The Kingdom of Turgida was eerily silent this close to the border wall, as civilisation gave the outside wilds breathing room. The only sound was the occasional movement of guards checking for any monsters that dared to get too close. The familiar routine kept their emotions in check to prevent any dark feelings from attracting the monsters to them.

A squelching and cracking noise broke the silence.

Somehow, inside the walls, bones and flesh were impossibly created from the darkness; like rotting wood caving under its own weight, they grew like cancer in the heart of a nearby forest.

A dark creature formed from the night; its flesh black like the shadows from which it had emerged. This Shade, by which these creatures of shadows were known, was highlighted by its off-white bone armour that covered parts of its inky black body.

The monster let out an ear-piercing scream and awoke a young boy in an orphanage.

Mathew knew what the sound meant. Everyone in their right mind knew it meant to run or suffer near certain death, but for Mathew, it meant an opportunity. His eyes shoot open, his heart filled with childish confidence, overpowering the more rational fear.

He shivered with excitement at the chance to test out his newly discovered skills and weapons, just like he had seen his favourite Mythics on TV.

The beast moved towards civilisation, attracted to the spike in the more rational citizens’ emotions, emerging out of the forest only a field away from the orphanage. Inside of which, the boy sneaked through to prevent anyone from stopping him, stole his weapon, and stealthily escaped through the front entrance. He looked up and froze.

The beast now stood a few metres away from him, its shadow blocking out what little light the moon illuminated, covering the boy in shadows as it towered over him. A chill crept down his neck, which had nothing to do with the cold night air; he had never seen a Shade in person before.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Although he had read, watched, and rewatched videos of famous battles of Mythics and Shades, it had in no way prepared him for reality.

Terror gripped him for a few vital seconds as his brain finally comprehended the situation, the emotion pinpointing him like a beacon in a cave. The TV had not done it justice.

Despite his confidence forgoing him, he knew what he needed to do.

Luminescent runes appeared in the air in response to the boy’s aura, his hands and eyes glowing at the power of the symbols. They resonated in the air, almost like an instrument playing backwards, familiar but alien. Though he had only recently learnt this ‘‘spell’’, it was spoken with confidence, like he had said it a thousand times before.

He hadn’t.

The spell rocketed the boy back with so much unexpected power that he cratered next to the orphanage’s door, knocking him out in an instant. The power caused a blast of superheated plasma to appear, engraved around the edge with the symbols, which glowed white against the purple. It hit the Shade directly; the impact caused a tremor in the ground as it went through the Shade.

The Shade collapsed. The spell blasted the newly born Shade’s head clean off, filling the air with the smell of roasted flesh. Despite this decapitation, it didn’t seem too fazed. Black matter exploded from a singular point on its severed neck, replacing the remaining stump with two heads covered by more developed bone armour.

The air nearby seemed to glisten like it was warping from heat. Without a sound to announce their arrival, a team of Mythics appeared.

The leader spoke into a com on his wrist, “A Beta Hydra, starting extraction and containment protocol.”

With the two short swords in his hands, he cut a gateway into the air in front of them, causing the same glisten as before, and disappeared just as quickly as they appeared, taking the Shade with them. Only the carnage of the Shade’s path and the smell of ozone remained from the losing battle. That, and an unconscious boy left in a blackened crater.

The only other person to have witnessed the event was a well-dressed man with hazelnut eyes sitting at a desk far from where the skirmish had taken place. The man only smiled to himself, turning the recording off, noting the possible future of this boy with the correct training. He sighed. The damages meant more paperwork for him—so much more paperwork.

He could probably delegate.