My father had, more than likely, sacrificed my sister to appease the goddess. Which meant his powers wouldn’t have weakened. I, on the other hand? I refused to do such a thing. And if that meant losing my powers, then so fucking be it.
What about Vivian, though? I had to protect her from my father. And if I couldn’t protect myself from him, how the hell could I keep him from discovering I’d married a human?
My only choice was to find the object my father had tied himself to and destroy it. And soon.
I drained the last of the coffee, then tossed a generous tip on the table and left.
Whatever was happening with Vivian, whatever mess of emotions she stirred in me, I couldn’t let it distract me from the task at hand. My path was set, and there was no turning back.
I ascendedthe polished obsidian staircase of the magistrate fortress in Tenebris, my shadows curling restlessly at my heels. The air here was heavy, thick with authority and judgment, a constant reminder that no one truly wielded power without consequence. Tenebris was a place where deals were struck, territories divided, and power decided—not by brute strength, but by cold calculation.
The magistrates were no fools. They understood leverage, and they held enough of it to make even someone like me tread carefully. I didn’t like being here. But my people needed protection, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, my magic’s faltering grip over my territory left me no choice.
Two Veil Guards, clad in black armor enchanted with shimmering runes, flanked the entrance to the chamber. One stepped forward, his halberd blocking my path.
“The magistrates are not in the habit of entertaining surprises, Shadow,” the guard said.
“I’m not in the habit of being denied entry,” I snapped. “Tell them The Shadow is here with urgent business.”
The guard hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping aside.
The magistrates’ council chamber was an imposing room, lined with tiered seats that climbed into shadowed heights. At its center was a long table, the surface an intricate mosaic ofenchanted glass that shimmered like trapped starlight. Three magistrates sat at the table, their faces obscured by masks of black iron, their auras crackling with controlled power.
“Shadow,” Magistrate Eldric greeted. “What brings you here unannounced?”
I inclined my head in a gesture of respect that didn’t come easily. “I come with a proposal. One that benefits not just my territory, but the stability of The Below as a whole.”
Magistrate Caladorn, seated on the left, leaned forward, his mask tilting slightly. “And what does The Shadow have to offer that we haven’t heard before? Your reputation precedes you, and not always favorably.”
I let the words slide off me like water. “I’ve been working to clean up my territory, as requested. The Below thrives when its territories are strong, stable, and prosperous. Mine will be no exception.”
“Bold words,” Magistrate Vaelen, seated on the right said, his tone skeptical. “But cleaning up a territory as deeply entrenched in shadows as yours is no small task. Why should we trust that you’ll hold up your end of the agreement?”
I stepped closer to the table, my shadows swirling at my feet. “Because I know the stakes. When my work is done, my territory will be one of the most appealing and well-protected in The Below. But the very qualities that make it a beacon will also make it a target.”
The magistrates exchanged a glance. They didn’t trust me to deliver on my promises—and why would they? My reputation was one of ruthlessness and manipulation, not of order and altruism.
“What is it you’re asking of us, Gallanti?” the Magistrate Eldric asked.
“Reinforcements. Veil Guards stationed along my borders to ensure that the peace I establish isn’t undone by opportunisticrivals. My people deserve protection, and it’s your duty to ensure that territories under your oversight are secure.”
Magistrate Caladorn scoffed. “Your people deserve protection? Since when has The Shadow concerned himself with the plight of his people?”
I stiffened. “Let’s say I’ve turned over a new leaf. But don’t think this is all about them. Your assistance benefits me, too. If you provide what you do for other territories, my resources can be allocated elsewhere.”
The words burned in my throat. I couldn’t tell them that my magic, the foundation of my rule, was crumbling beneath me. If they sensed weakness, they’d pounce. Nor could I tell them that I’d always cared deeply about the people in my territory. They’d see it as a sign of weakness that they could use against me. But I couldn’t ignore the truth, either. My illusions no longer held as they once did, and the cracks were beginning to show.
Magistrate Eldric steepled his fingers. “You ask for Veil Guards, but you offer only promises in return. Promises from a man who has built his empire on fear, illusions, and shadows.”
“Then consider this my contract. If I fail to deliver on my end, I will relinquish my claim to the Veil Guards. But if I succeed, you will uphold your part of the agreement.”
The magistrates whispered among themselves, their voices too low for me to discern.
Finally, Magistrate Eldric spoke. “Very well, Shadow. If you hold up your end of the agreement—if your territory is truly stabilized and prosperous—we will provide the reinforcements you seek. But know this: failure is not an option. There will be consequences if you do.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I replied coolly, though the tension in my chest eased slightly. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was enough for now.
The magistrates stood, signaling the end of the discussion. I inclined my head once more before turning on my heel and walking out of the chamber, my shadows pooling behind me.
