Hidden under a slumbering volcano, far away, an ancient being stirred at the re-ignition of the Shadow's bloodline. Magma frothed and bubbled. Steaming cracks ran up the rocky sides of the mountain. Molten rock oozed from the growing fissures. A caustic smoke blew out of the volcanoes gaping maw as the hidden entity shifted its massive bulk. The being let loose a grating sigh that echoed over the ambient noise and caused an avalanche.
“How… Unexpected…” A deep, timeless voice rumbled across the agitated lava. “That bloodline... Quickens again….”
Disturbed and angry at the return of its greatest foe, the being thrashed around under the earth. The volcano erupted violently. Within the smoke, fiery discharges, and flying rock, dark twisted shapes flowed out with the magma and flew through the skies. They sped off to the far corners of the continent.
“Go forth… My servants… The timeline will change… because of this… Kill this creature… Must think… The other children are waking too...”
This being’s plans, patiently waiting out the centuries, were threatened at the return of the Shadow's royal bloodline. Sending forth minions to hunt this child, and agents to sway the mind of lords and kings, the entities’ great mind began to grind, searching out ways to speed up its malignant designs.
………...
Spread across the world of Enoch, many others felt the awakening of the Shadow’s bloodline.
The fractured peoples of shadow, alone, or in small groups littered across the lands, stopped and were amazed as their own blood answered the quickening. They felt their magical abilities go through a qualitative change, deepening, darkening, flowing through their veins in amounts they had never utilized before.
The largest group dwelt under a mountain, in a hidden series of caves, where they had built permanent structures; homes, forges, crafting rooms, training halls, and a library. They were the last remnants of the Shadow Clan. Passing down their knowledge since the fall of Kavgrim, they became assassins. Known throughout the land as the best, they took many contracts and always fulfilled them.
Though it was widely believed among their clients that this assassin clan was descended from the Shadow, no one knew for certain. Even if anyone wanted to do anything about it, no one knew where the clan lived.
From the outside, the nameless mountain was surrounded by a vast wood and appeared to be completely natural. No evidence of human interference broke the uncultivated landscape of the mountain range.
Deep inside the mountain, their dwellings were utilitarian. There was almost no embellishment to be found among their architecture. It was clear that the clan favored function exclusively over form. Bare tunnels burrowed into a spacious cavern. Wooden beams and naturally formed stone supports held the high ceiling up. Individual dwellings were uniformly spartan. The people’s clothing was equally functional. They walked with purpose, set on their individual tasks. Even their training was uniform, intent on teaching them the varied and intricate skills of assassination.
Kavgrithe was the young but effective clan leader of these assassins. He showed an intelligence and maturity that kept the clan free from internal strife and external threat.
His stern face held no humor and his thick eyebrows were pushed down by the weight of his duties. His hair was as black as Kavgrim’s but he was too young for a matching beard to hide his chin. Kavgrithe’s skin was pale and it along with the rest of him combined to grant him an easily forgettable appearance. His clothing was identical to the rest of the assassins, being completely practical in form and defensive qualities. Two short swords were strapped to either side of his waist and several braces of small, sharp knives were hidden under his clothing.
Kavgrithe stood attentively to the side of a salle. Serious young trainees were being put through their paces by a stern-faced instructor. The students were fighting against golems. These golems were made of clay and had colored tattoos showing where vital spots would be on a living opponent. “You need to be faster! You think a real opponent will just sit still while you stab them?” the instructor admonished them.
“Yes, Instructor Fathom!” the trainees replied. They redoubled their efforts at sneaking around the slow golems to strike at their unguarded weak spots.
The instructor lectured his pupils while they exercised. “The world hates and fears us. Even if we were not assassins, we would be living on a knife’s edge. Until our task is done, none of our lives are our own. Be ready, for our day of judgement is coming. Remember the pledge of our clan. ‘Through the shadows, we defend the light.’ Ours is a difficult path, but we will walk it proudly.” He changed tacks instantly. “You! That lunge wasn’t deep enough. You couldn’t pierce paper with that weak thrust. Try harder!”
Seeing that the training was going well, Kavgrithe let his mind wander. He was proud of all he had accomplished for his clan, and that even at seventeen he was doing a fine job of leading them.
He was forced to become the leader of his clan after his parents died during a mission. He had watched them die.
Even at nine Kavgrithe was a grim individual. He followed stealthily behind his parents. “Now young master, even though your training has progressed enough for you to come along, you must remember that you won’t be participating in the actual action. Just watch how Master Leone and Mistress Leeta work,” his attendant Sopha reminded him. Sopha was the definition of a shadow. His pale skin was dusted with charcoal, helping him to both blend in to the night and to disguise his scent. He wore what all four of them were wearing, mottled black and grey tight-fitting clothing with a hood and mask to hide their features.
Kavgrithe nodded silently. Sticking to the shadows, the small band snuck past several patrolling guards on their way through the city.
They stopped next to a large manor house. Through the iron fence they carefully observed the elegant grounds and armed guards that purposefully strode across them. Waiting for a gap in the guards patrols, they slipped through the thin fence spokes and across the gardens.
Sidling up to the sturdy wall of the house, they started climbing. Kavgrithe’s mother went up first and using small tools, she unlocked a window and crept inside. She finished checking that the room was empty and stuck her head back out the window, motioning them inside.
They found themselves in a spare bedroom. It was obvious that it was currently unused as everything was covered in thick sheets. Lifting up a sheet, Kavgrithe found that the room was beautifully furnished. Carved wooden bed posts matched two dressers and a large desk set.
“Kav,” his father said, his gravelly voice quiet. “Do you remember the house’s layout? Which way to our target?”
“We should be in the third bedroom on the second floor. Our target is the lord of this manor, and he should be drunk in his study by now. Third floor, fifth door on the right,” Kavgrithe responded confidently.
“Very good, Kav. Now listen closely. We know the schedules of the guards and we’ve timed our entrance to correlate with their movements. There is a secret passage up to the third floor from this room. Sopha, help me move this dresser.” Leone beckoned.
The two men silently drew the dresser away from the wall. Leeta pressed a hidden trigger in the revealed walls’ moulding. A hidden door opened, revealing a thin set of steps leading up towards the third story.
Ascending the staircase, they snuck their way through the third floor and past the door to the study. They expertly broke into the room next to it. Leeta used a tiny drill to make a hole that allowed them to see into the study.
“He’s in there alone. His breathing is regular and he is snoring. Every indication shows that he is asleep. Let’s go.” Leeta motioned for her husband to sneak in through the windows, while she snuck back into the hallway. They planned on a pincer attack in case of any unforeseen circumstances. Sopha held the young boy up to the eye hole.
The pair of assassins were perfectly in sync, as the door and window glided open at the same time. They stole into the room and with lethal efficiency silenced their target. Their victim never even knew that they were there.
After the deed was done, they turned towards the hall. Suddenly, Leeta stopped. Her eyes appeared to look past the walls, then they widened in shock. She signed a message to her son through the hole in the wall. “We’ve been found out. Run.” With a last look at each other, the married couple simultaneously vanished.
“Mom says to run, Sopha. Something’s coming,” Kavgrithe urgently whispered to his guardian. Then he shuddered as a vast and terrifying aura descended, choking the air from his lungs.
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“Quick, young lord. Back to the hidden staircase!” Sopha replied quickly. They bolted as one, silently racing through the house towards their escape route.
Shouts echoed through the house, “Let us past, Councillor Enyu said someone was coming to kill the magistrate. Go men, up to the third floor!” Pounding footsteps ran up the main stairs and past the room where Kavgrithe and Sopha were hiding. The footsteps rushed past without stopping. After they had gone, Sopha closed the hidden door and pushed the dresser back. Looking for an opening, they crept out of the window they used to enter, closing it behind themselves and snuck through the gardens.
“How could they have known we were coming?” Kavgrithe wondered.
Clenching his fists, Sopha replied, “Our client must have sold us out, no one could have known our plans.”
A booming voice rang out in the night. “Stop, shadow spawn! You won’t be able to escape.” Fire exploded out at the words, exposing the forms of Kavgrithe’s parents.
Leone straightened from his hiding spot. “King Raitan. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“If you know who I am, you know you don’t stand a chance against me, monster. Don’t resist.” The king’s golden scales glimmered in the poor light. “By Xertonos’ will, I command light to reveal my surroundings. Radiant Sun!” A bright light burst into existence overhead. King Raitan pointed a glowing sword at the male assassin.
Sopha pulled his squirming young charge behind a row of bushes far enough away that they went unnoticed. “Be silent, there’s nothing you can do right now. Your parents will definitely win this.”
A voice called from the direction of the house, “King Raitan, the magistrate, we were too late, he’s been killed.”
The king's countenance darkened and contorted with rage. “I condemn you to die, assassin. Being of the Shadow’s blood alone is an offense punishable by death. To commit murder on top of that.” He lunged towards the apparently unarmed man, “Accept your fate, scum.”
“Sorry, your highness, it’s against our policy to lay down and die.” Leone disappeared from sight and the king’s sword struck through empty air.
A form rushed silently towards the king’s back. Leeta viciously stabbed at Raitan, but he spun around and blocked the strike. The king slashed upwards, catching the woman and flinging her back. In the air, she threw a blade at the Raitan’s face.
As she was sent flying, Leone materialized to the king’s unguarded side and struck with a wicked-looking serrated blade.
Growling, the golden king unleashed a flaming aura. It threw off the dagger’s accuracy and pushed Leone back violently.
The black-clothed man leapt backwards to avoid the fire. “Ouch, no need to be so serious, King.” He threw three black, bladed rings at the burning king. As the rings neared their target, they grew in size, encompassing and restraining King Raitan. “Take a nap.”
The king was knocked to his knees by the binding tools. But before he fell further, he shouted angrily and forcefully spread his wings. The rings shattered. “Wicked beast! Your kind murdered my father while I watched, too young to do anything. I will not suffer you in my kingdom.”
As the broken pieces tumbled down, Leone and Leeta simultaneously rushed at the recovering king. “The poor child.” Leone grinned at his wife, “Still, throwing a tantrum like this isn’t becoming.”
His wife smiled fetchingly at him as they closed in on Raitan. “Yes, my love. Time for a spanking. Oh, hidden one, lend me your strength. Shadow movement.”
The couple became blurred shades as their speed increased noticeably. King Raitan roared as he furiously dodged and blocked them. Bloody cuts appeared across his body as he became unable to keep up.
“I'll kill you both!” Raitan shouted wrathfully. “Xertonos, burn away my enemies. Sundering Burst!” An ethereal force radiated out from the king, smashing down into the ground and leaving a smouldering crater around him. His shoulders heaved with his heavy breathing.
The assassin couple had successfully dodged out of the way. Leeta crouched in a nearby tree and Leone stood relaxed at the edge of the crater, picking his nails with a knife. “What a rude kid. Leeta, my dear, let's put him in timeout.”
“Indeed, Leone. Our son is ever so much better behaved than this punk.” Leeta replied. “I hear you have a young child, King. I pity him if this is how you act all the time.” She snickered dismissively.
Raitan’s face reddened at the continuous jabs against him. “At least my son will grow up with his parents. You're both going to die here.”
“My King!”
Protect the King!”
A troop of guards burst out from the manor and charged at the raging melee.
Leeta turned to her husband, and said, “I’ve got this royal brat. Honey, take them out.” She jumped from the branch and threw herself at the scornful king.
“Alright, love. Let’s end this,” Leone replied while smirking. He disappeared, only to pop up in the middle of the guard’s formation. His motions were beautiful to behold, but viciously deadly. Several guards screamed in pain as he tore through their ranks gleefully. He danced across the field, dodging and striking indiscriminately. Flipping over a rushing spearman, he laughed at their inability to fight back against his onslaught.
The assassin and the king danced across the battlefield. It looked as though Leeta had the upper hand, until a snarling grin plastered itself across Raitan’s face. He snapped his fingers and an outpouring of light blinded the woman.
She hopped backwards while covering her eyes, but Raitan landed a savage kick on her stomach. Leeta was thrown back and crashed into the earth. Though she quickly recovered, it altered the flow of their fight, and King Raitan scored a long gash along her abdomen and arm.
She screamed in pain and anger. The sound rushed forth in an ear-splitting wave of pressure. It swept the king back, throwing him several feet away.
As he rose, the king raised his sword towards Leeta. She knelt on the ground, holding her bleeding arm as she attempted to rise and get back into the fight. The king rasped an incantation. “Xertonos, send forth your purifying flames. Immolate.” A ray of blinding light shot from the tip of the sword.
As the ray travelled through the air, Kavgrithe jumped out of his hiding spot, shrieking, “No! Mom!” Sopha grabbed him and put a hand over his mouth, pulling the struggling boy back into hiding.
Right before the attack landed, Leone burst forth in a discharge of shadows. He pushed his wife out the way and the magical bolt hit him in the back, piercing through his body and bursting forth in a spray of blood and gore.
Leeta’s face was one of shock as she landed, her husband’s blood splattered across her. She was jarred into awareness at the muffled cries of her son. “Sopha, take him and run. Now!” She lunged towards Raitan, looking like a murderous banshee. She shrieked as she flew through the air and a magical force burst forth, knocking Raitan off balance.
Trying to regain his footing, the King was unable to completely dodge her rush, and a giant gash gushed blood across his face. But she seemed to have lost her reason, wildly slashing around. More cuts appeared across the king's arms and torso. The king barely managed to center himself and with a brutal backhanded swing, he knocked the wild woman away.
Sopha grabbed Kavgrithe and threw the sobbing boy over his shoulder. As the older assassin turned to run away, Kavgrith got one last view of his mother. The remaining guards had surrounded Leeta, and then her blood splashed across the night as they stabbed her repeatedly with their spears.
…………………….
When Valorous broke the seal that locked away his shadowed birthright, Kavgrithe was filing paperwork while sitting in his office. A few of his men stood at attention near the door. The young clan head felt something inside of him suddenly give. His heart skipped a beat as he clutched at his desk. A spark flared in his chest and quickly became a flame, darkly burning through his auric veins.
Kavgrithe’s carefully honed magical talent burst forth. The startled young man watched as flickering shadows enveloped and fused into his powers. Full of wonder, Kavgrithe stood up and laughed joyously.
His skin cracked and split, the pain it caused ignored because of his delight at this unexpected gift. As dark scales broke through his tearing flesh, he heard the sounds of his shocked, excited, or scared clans mates as they experienced a similar rebirth.
He calmly touched his forehead as several little horns ripped through. Small streams of blood dripped down his face and the areas where his scales had grown in were ragged and bloody as well. But despite his training, even he bent over and grasped his desk desperately as wings grew and tore through the flesh of his back. Gasping for breath, Kavgrithe grasped at the edge of his frayed skin and ripped it off like a shedding reptile.
Though very few members of the clan were going through changes as vast as Kavgrithe’s, all of them experienced a qualitative change in the strength of their magic. The clan members fell to their knees as the agony tore through them in the middle of their daily tasks. Scales tore through their skin, leaving bloody patterns across their bodies. Their hands contorted as talons grew out of their fingers, restructuring the bones and muscles in their appendages. Little horns shredded their foreheads as they cried from the unexpected evolution. Shrieks echoed throughout the chambers as they questioned what was happening to them.
As he stubbornly continued to stand, a vast chuckle echoed in Kavgrithe’s mind. “How wonderful that so many of my brood have survived these long years. Do you know your mother, little one?”
A shock like lightning tore down his spine, but he answered dutifully, if shakily, “Our Patron? Korovix?”
The presence faded away as it relied. “Good boy.”
Lightning tore through his mind as information burned its way into his head. Knowledge of improved spells structured themselves across his brain. These spells were vastly superior to what they had access to before the seal broke.
Still grasping his desk, he looked to the men at his door. They had fallen to their knees, and were scratching at the bloody scales that had ruptured through their flesh. Though none of them had grown wings, It was still a painful process. “Men, are you alright?”
One of them groaned softly and turned to his leader. “Sir, I think we’ll be fine in just a moment. What on Enoch happened? I hurt, but I also feel better than ever?”
Composing himself, the young leader asked himself wonderingly, “Could it be that someone from the main branch survived? How is this possible after all this time?” He clenched his fists while circulating his newly evolved aura. Kavgrithe turned to two of his men and commanded, “We must find this heir of our blood, find them and teach them the truth. Marak and Jonaeh, clean yourselves up and go. Lona, check on our clan. I want a full report. Now. ”
They stood and shakily and bowed from the doorway. Then, rushing away, they left to find this wayward heir.
Sitting back down, Kavgrithe steepled his fingers. Ever the realist, he immediately started contemplating the effects this would have on his plans. “Our enemies must have felt this too. They’ll be making a move soon.” As he considered his new options, he twirled his fingers in spiralling patterns as he commanded the shadows to flicker and dance across the room.