There had been rumors around the manor for years – as far back as I remembered – about a reclusive group in one of the vales a short distance out of town. Supposedly they reviled the sun’s light. Supposedly they took the coldness of areas that had never seen it into themselves instead of eating. Supposedly some of them had gone far enough as to have rejected their humanity entirely.

We’d always laughed at the idea, the other house servants and I. This wasn’t some kid’s tale. There was no cult of evil monsters lurking around the edges of civilized society.

Except this time there was. And here I was, perched in a tree that grew right up against the walls of their compound. Spying on them. Planning to break in and see if they had anything to do with the incoming destruction. I just had to hope that they'd go away instead of staying in the courtyard the whole day. Who just stood around in a shaded courtyard all morning, not even doing anything?

These guys, apparently. They were in eerily precise lines and every single one of them was wearing the same black robe with silver trim. And swords. Why did they all have swords? Some of them couldn't have been any older than I was, and what sane person would start training someone only barely into double digits in how to push lengths of metal through other people? Again, apparently these people.

Without warning, there was another person standing in front of the first line. I nearly fell out of the tree out of pure surprise. Then I almost fell out of the tree a second time when something started pressing on me from above. I flailed, that time, panicking with the thought that I may have been caught. If these people had turned their backs on sunlight itself, what would they do to someone caught peeking in from a tree?

But I was able to flip onto my back easily enough. There was no one there. No source for the pressure that I could still feel.

The man at the head of the courtyard's voice rang out, clear despite the hundred or so yards of distance between us. It seemed to come from the walls more than it did the man himself. "Guests and adherents to the Devotions of the Shadesoul, I thank you for your attendance here today. You have honored all of us with your presence, and we seek to honor you in turn by displaying to you only our best." The man gestured to the lines of black-robed figures standing in front of him. "To that end, my students will demonstrate their proficiency in our teaching to each other by trading single blows. He who wins will earn personal instruction from me in the same form.As will one of our guests, who will be chosen by me at the end of this traditional ceremony."

The massed ranks of people - apparently students of some kind - moved to pair off in what looked like a practiced routine. A few people were left behind in the newly vacated space, but none of them wore the black-and-silver of the learners. They scrambled to get out of the way as the first pairs stepped forward, eventually lining up against the walls. The learners began trading hits, and I couldn't tell what would make one a winning blow above another, but they never seemed to have any doubt which of them had won an exchange.

Was it something with the force of the blow that could only be experienced by those actually fighting? Was it scripted? Were they just that experienced? I didn't know, but it was fascinating to watch. People dropped out in droves, moving to the back of the courtyard and kneeling. I couldn't see the first few dozen because the wall obscured my view of them, but eventually that crowd grew so large even I couldn't avoid seeing the backs of their heads.

Then there were two left. One was visibly sturdy and clearly older than the other, with wide shoulders and the beginnings of a beard tracing along his jawline. The other was thin and lanky, though his height looked as though it might lend him an advantage. His reach definitely looked longer than the wide-shouldered one. I'd never been much of one for getting into fights with the other servant children, but that seemed like it would make a difference.

The older man - who still hadn't mentioned his name - stepped up to speak again before they began. "Tarol Zende. Karan Zeskar. You two have been the pride and joy of Shadesoul Monastery for your time here. I think I speak for all of us when I say that there's no surprise that it has come down to only you two. To allow this to be the truest demonstration of your skills, I will allow you to select each one technique to use from those that you have learned here. Choose wisely and demonstrate for all of the guests who are watching what you are capable of."

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For a brief second there, when he mentioned all of the guests, it almost looked like his eyes flicked up to me in the tree. But there was no way he saw me. No one else had. He had to have just been scanning the disqualified students, right?

The wider of the two students - I thought that one was Tarol Zende, based on which direction the old man had looked when talking - drew his sword. The sensation of pressure, having lightened as the sparring continued, pushed back in slightly as darkness spiraled up the blade until it formed an extra inch or two on the end of the sword that looked somehow just as sharp as the actual metal. He set himself, the new point of the blade facing his opponent.

The opponent in question, Karan Zeskar, didn't seem like he did anything. He just set himself, fists raised as if drawing his own sword wasn't worth the time. I watched two of the front line of disqualified competitors elbow each other as he did. Tarol tilted his head. Karan nodded.

They began and ended before I had seen a thing happen. As if it had all happened while I blinked, Tarol was suddenly against a wall, two of the non-uniformed members of the crowd clearly having dodged out of the way, and Karan had only a single fist extended into the space that his opponent had occupied.

"A good application of your chosen technique, Master Zeskar." The younger man looked like he was going to protest but was shushed. "You've earned the title. More than, honestly. I probably should have made it official a year ago. Having two masters in the monastery will make things much easier for all of us.

"Now. I believe there is one thing left to demonstrate for our esteemed guests. I will show one of them the best of this house of learning's practices. Let he who I point at come forward." The old man closed his eyes and thrust an arm into the air, one finger extended. He let it drift above the heads of all of the outsiders, not pointing at any of them before jabbing it at one person definitively as he opened his eyes.

The pressure returned in full force, squeezing my body from every direction until I thought I'd lose inches off my height. He was pointing up. Over the back wall. In the gap between the courtyard's cover and the open air that I'd been using to spy. He was pointing at me.

"Yes, I do mean you in the tree out there. Come on. I have something to show you."

I shook my head. What could I possibly do in a situation like that? Whatever training they'd had, whatever a technique was, I had nothing to match up.

"Oh don't be like that. Wait, can you even get down from there?" The pressure intensified and then his voice was coming not from the walls but from right behind me on the branch I was clinging to. "Here. I'll help." The world went dark and cold for a second, then I was laying on the ground in full view of everyone in the monastery's shaded courtyard.

A courtyard that looked vastly different from the inside than from the outside. My previous perspective had hidden the vein-like purple lines tracing the walls, the deep blue fruit hanging from the tree that sat in the one corner that wasn't covered in stone tiles, and somehow it all felt far, fair larger now that I was inside. I pushed myself off the ground and into a kneeling position in front of the man who had apparently taught all of the people who lived here.

My voice was shaky as I tried to protest. "I don't have anything to learn from. I have never studied whatever the things are that you and your students have done."

"Ah, that's okay. Even a giant can learn from a mouse depending on what he's trying to get out of it!" He pulled me to my feet. "Now. We're each going to hit each other once. You will learn from this. And I will learn from this. We will learn together."

He drew back a fist and waited for me to do the same. He matched my pathetic attempt at throwing a punch in both speed and effort. We made contact at the same time.

And I felt the power of Shadow enter my body for the first time. Cold and misty, never quite where you expected it to be, it flooded into my body through veins I hadn't even known I had.

*

In my second life, I felt the anima flood in. My second soulroot filled rapidly and I luxuriated in the sensation. There without a complete ternion, there was an emptiness inside that nothing quite compared to. Now I was one step closer to lacking it.

I didn't get to enjoy it for long as the System tugged at my attention. I may have set it to an absolute minimum amount of notifications, but when I saw what it was, I knew why the thing had decided this went beyond those denials.

[Attention. Attention. This is a message from your continental ruler. Disregard this at your own peril.]

[A criminal unlike any other walks among us again. You who bring him to me for execution will be rewarded.]