Derek stepped into the large empty space that was the town hall. There were no receptionists or businessmen strolling around acting important behind these walls anymore. It was only an eerie quiet that festered inside. It was a stench here now, Derek thought. The stench of fear that always made his back turn rigid when he walked inside. The fear emanated from the governor. The once great Edward Perrole had become nothing more than a weak infant hiding from his father.

Derek took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door into Perrole’s office before he opened. He didn’t wait for the governor’s permission. There were enough guards around here that anyone other than Derek would be stopped from entering.

Behind the large wooden desk, the small man sat. He had a green west over a gray shirt and a golden pocket watch peeked out from the breast pocket. His clothes were impeccable, but his expression was far from it. Edward had dark circles drooping underneath his eyelids. They told the tale of nights spent awake to the sounds of fighting. His hair was thinning at the top and gray streaks shot out from behind his ears. He was no longer the gentleman he’d once been. Now he was reduced to a whimpering fool.

Derek smiled. “I see you’ve been well, Sir.”

Edward gave him a weak smile. “What news do you have? I need good news.”

Derek strolled into the room and took a seat opposite his old friend. “I have good news. My brother and the girl he came here with have been detained. They will no longer bother you with their lies and deceit.”

Edward wrung his hands back and forth over the desk. “Good… good. I have been worried they’d cause trouble. I thought perhaps he’d bring the dragon cult girl with him. But she’s not here, right?”

Derek shook his head. “It was a noble from Stoneheart. A friend of hers. She’s locked inside the dungeon with Austin. They won’t cause any trouble.”

“Did they say anything to you?”

Derek’s hand stopped on its journey to his chin and hovered for a moment between them. He was surprised by the question, but decided he should tell the governor something about what Austin had claimed. “He rambled about more shadows coming before I locked him up.”

“More shadows? What does that mean?”

Derek shook his head. “I think it was just a way to make us scared. I think we shouldn’t take anything they’re saying seriously. They’re, after all, working with the void. They destroyed the dragon stones and made us weak.”

Edward sucked in his bottom lip and stared off into the distance for a moment. “I think we should send another message to the king.”

“I’m sure there’s no need for that,” Derek said. “The king is not to be trusted. He’s working with the dragon cult and we know-”

Edward held up his hand. “I know what you think about the dragon cult and the king. I’m well aware. But I’m in charge here and I say we need more help. If whatever Austin said is true. We need more magical weapons and more elemental warriors. We need the king's help.”

Derek dragged in a deep breath, trying to calm his raging feelings. “I’ll send another message then.”

“Good.” Edward sat up a little taller and ran a hand through his messy hair, combing it down in some places. “Perhaps it’s time we let Aldrion fall.”

Derek shook his head. “What? No.”

Edward held up his hand once more, silencing any protests from Derek. “Not yet. We’ll see if the king sends us some help this time and if we can hold the city for a while longer. But Derek, if we don’t figure out how to fix the dragon stones, Aldrion will fall, whether you like it or not. The city cannot hold against shadows without magic. It’s just not possible.”

Derek gritted his teeth and felt his jaw flex painfully. “I know. So why aren’t we fixing the dragon stones, then?”

Edward’s eyes returned to him, seeming a little brighter this time. “I’ve put my best scholars on it. Headmaster Lorken is running a tight shift in Falden, but we don’t know how to fix it. They were never handmade. According to the legends, it was the dragons who made the stones, and it’s not like we have a dragon around to make a new one.”

All this talk about dragons made the blood pump inside Derek’s veins. He didn’t know what those damn dragons had done all those centuries ago. But he sure knew that the cult who still worshiped them was brainwashing everyone with the void’s agenda. If they waited on a dragon to fix their problems, they’d all be dead. The last dragon anyone had seen had tried to kill them all. So he wasn’t so sure they’d just give them a new dragon stone if they reappeared.

“I’ll send another message to the king then,” Derek said, standing up and taking a step toward the door.

“Make sure this one doesn't get lost now,” Edward said.

Derek spun around, facing the governor. His eyes showed nothing and his expression was open. He didn’t look like he suspected Derek for anything. But those words, did he know? “I’ll put my best messenger on it.”

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Derek walked back through the streets of Aldrion toward his mansion. The sun had set hours ago, but there were no sounds of a struggle in the air. The void didn’t attack every night now as it had when the dragon was still alive. At least they’d been spared having to fight as often. But it wasn’t much when one considered the impending doom on the Last Stance.

This place, his home, was supposed to stand against evil. It couldn’t fall. He couldn’t let it fall. He didn’t want the king to come and swoop in and save the day. But he knew that this time he didn’t have any choice in sending the message to Stoneheart. He would ask for more weapons, but he wouldn’t ask for elemental warriors. The ones he trained were enough.

They had plenty of elemental warriors in the city that had seen a real war and weren't weak cowards who’d run back to their noble lives after the first sign of struggle. He didn’t need those people to come back here. It was enough they’d had to suffer through teaching them magic in the first place at Falden. But now, with the war, all those nobles had deserted the city. Gone back to Stoneheart to fatten their bellies.

He didn’t need them. He didn’t need the king. He needed no one. Not even his father, who’d ran as soon as the dragon stones flickered out. He was a coward, just like the rest of them. Derek slammed the door open at the mansion and felt the dusty air hit his nostrils. Somehow, no matter how much the servants cleaned, the house didn’t smell the same after everyone had left.

He trailed down the corridor to his father’s study, his study, and opened the door. It was closed. He noted that as he swung it open and his eyes immediately scanned the room. Derek never left his door closed unless he was in it and neither did his servants. Not even Austin would have dared close this door.

Derek took in a deep breath and cleared his mind. He connected to the ornamental paperweight on the table, shaped like a water drop, and it glowed in a bright blue color, filling up the room with light. In the corner of the room, a dark figure appeared. Someone had been hiding inside. Derek observed the silhouette of a person with a thick beard and tattered clothing, then he let out a relaxing breath.

“You’re not paid to startle me. You’re my informant, Oliver. Act like it.”

Derek strolled inside the study and traced a hand along the bookshelf, his finger brushing the spines of ancient tomes no one ever seemed to read. He suspected his father had put them in here for posture more than for information. Derek didn’t even know what half of the titles were.

“I have a new mission for you,” Derek said. “You need to go to Stoneheart. You can use the path through the mountain. Just let the guards know I sent you and show them the sigil. I can’t send anyone else. I don’t trust anyone else to deliver the right message.”

Oliver said nothing, and an uneasy feeling washed over Derek again. He took another look at the figure still semi-shrouded in darkness. He had the beard and the clothes. It must be Oliver. But, wait, where were the gray streaks in his hair? Derek stopped, taking his hand off the bookshelf.

“Show yourself.”

The figure stepped out from the corner, and the blue light shone on his face. The features were all wrong. These weren’t his informant’s features. This man was younger, and Derek couldn’t place him.

“Who are you?” he asked.

The man didn’t respond. Instead, he closed his eyes.

Derek grabbed the letter opener from his desk and held it out toward the man. But his eyes were still sealed shut, and Derek contemplated his options. Was he going to kill this intruder? Or send for guards to come and take this madman away? The guards wouldn’t be close by this time. The closest ones were in Falden probably, and that would take a while. Perhaps it was simpler just to kill him.

The man opened his eyes then, the brown irises shrinking and making way for a fat dark pupil. There was something ominous about them, and Derek couldn’t quite place it. But he’d seen something like it before, he thought. Then the man’s pupils opened, and the darkness made way for something white and shiny. Something Derek recognized instantly.

Derek connected to the letter opener, and it glowed bright blue. It wasn’t his normal sword that held enough water magic to create a flood. But it was something, at least. He wasn’t defenseless against this shadow.

The man reached out a hand that soon became smoke and whipped toward Derek. With his small weapon, Derek shot out a splash of water that quickly turned to ice, grounding the smoke down. The man’s face scrunched up into a frown and then his features became obscured by the shadow form taking over.

Derek had seen this once before. A man becoming a shadow, but it had been years ago now. Out there in the wasteland. He never thought this could happen here. Not in Aldrion. This man was a horror from the waste that belonged only in the wasteland.

Here in Aldrion behind the walls. People were people and shadows were shadows. They didn't mix.

Another smokey limb reached for Derek, and he spun out from its reach. He moved toward the door, knowing he had stronger magical imbues on the other side of it. The shadow moved with him, its white eyes piercing, making his skin prickle.

Derek locked down the next tendril of smoke with another ice blast and soon the monster was under his control. This was fine. Derek was used to fighting these things, and this shadow had another thing coming if it thought Derek would be so easily defeated. A smile brushed over his lips and he stepped through the doorway out of the study.

For a moment, Derek thought he just needed to make it into the back of the hallway to the ornamental hammer hanging on the wall. But then something strange happened. The shadow moved out from the ice. This had never happened before.

But before Derek’s eyes, the shadow flickered back into the shape of a man and smashed the ice around its form. Then, a moment later, it was back to shadow and snaking its tendrils around Derek’s throat.

Derek iced over the letter opener and jammed it into the shadow’s chest. It screeched in pain, but kept holding a firm grip around his windpipe. Derek chipped for air, dropping the letter opener and clawing at the smoke, but couldn’t grab anything.

“Who…who are you?” Derek croaked out.

The light in the shadow’s eyes flickered and then went out and the form of the man took place before him. His eyes returned to a dark brown and fixated on Derek’s. His hands were wrapped around his neck and squeezed hard. But now Derek found his grip and clawed at his flesh. The man didn't seem to mind too much.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t respond to Derek’s question and didn’t even open his mouth. This man seemed like something inhuman, something unnatural. Perhaps a dragon come to life.