CHAPTER 28: THE EDGE OF DOMINION
Kael’s boots pounded against the broken ground as he charged, the Mark’s power coursing hot and relentless through his veins. Adrenaline sang in his ears, and for a fleeting moment, he felt weightless—untouchable. The knight in dark plate stood braced for impact, sword angled to receive Kael’s lunge, while the silver-tattooed woman hovered to one side, eyes flashing with raw magical energy. The swirling dust cast strange patterns across her skin, turning her into a phantom of shifting shadows.
Everything happened in a breath.
Kael swung his blade with startling force, aiming to pierce the knight’s guard before the sorceress could intervene. Sparks erupted as steel collided with steel. A tremor ran up Kael’s arms, nearly dislodging the sword from his grasp. The knight grunted, twisting to brace himself against the overwhelming momentum. Yet despite his skill, he couldn’t entirely blunt the attack’s impact; Kael’s blade grazed the knight’s shoulder pauldron, leaving a deep gouge in the metal.
The Mark seethed in Kael’s mind, urging him to push further, harder. Before he could capitalize on the opening, a razor-thin tendril of shadow whipped across his peripheral vision. He ducked just in time, feeling the cold brush of air as it sliced past his neck. The silver-tattooed woman stepped forward, both hands raised, conjuring more dark filaments that lashed out like serpents. Kael leapt back, using a burst of the Mark’s power to propel himself clear.
They’re coordinating, Kael realized, chest heaving. The knight pressed him from the front, while the woman tried to flank him with conjured shadows. He’d have to break their formation somehow.
He spun, feinting a charge at the sorceress. The knight pivoted to protect her flank, sword at the ready. That brief shift in stance was all Kael needed. He channeled a wave of energy into his left arm, releasing it in an invisible pulse that tore a deep gash in the temple floor. The crack raced beneath the knight’s feet, causing him to stumble as the ground pitched. Kael lunged, driving his shoulder into the knight’s torso, sending him crashing into a half-broken column.
A shout—sharp, female—warned Kael too late. Darkness flared at the corner of his vision, and a coil of living shadow clamped around his ankle. A yank, sudden and jarring, swept him off his feet. Kael hit the ground on his back, the impact jarring every bone in his body. Gritting his teeth, he twisted to slash at the tether binding his leg. The Mark’s energy crackled along his blade, allowing him to sever the shadow with a sizzling hiss. Freed, he scrambled to his feet, pain lancing through his bruised ribs.
Across the temple, the nameless man fought like a wraith against the silent assassin. Both darted in and out of the swirling dust, steel flashing in lethal arcs. Kael glimpsed the hooded woman at the far end of the chamber, eyes closed and hands pressed against the crumbling wall. A faint glow enveloped her fingertips—some kind of intricate magic at work. Kael had no idea what she intended, but he clung to the hope that it might tip the scales.
When his gaze snapped forward again, the knight and the sorceress stood side by side, battered but unbroken. The knight’s helmet had been knocked off in the chaos, revealing a stern, cold-eyed veteran. The sorceress’s tattoos pulsed erratically, her hair matted against her forehead. Yet neither looked ready to yield. If anything, their resolve seemed stronger, fueled by the same conviction that had driven countless Imperium conquests.
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With a feral snarl, the sorceress darted in, lashing out with both physical strikes and conjured shadows. Kael met her, sword ringing out in a flurry of parries, each impact sending jarring vibrations through his arms. He tried not to dwell on how his legs shook with fatigue or how each breath came ragged. He focused on the Mark, letting it sharpen his reflexes. But with every surge of that forbidden power, his vision flickered. A part of him reeled from the sense of otherness creeping into his consciousness, as if a second presence now inhabited his body.
Just a little more, he told himself. Then I’ll pull back.
But pulling back was the one thing the Mark seemed unwilling to do.
He managed a deft sidestep, drawing the sorceress off-balance. Spinning, he aimed a killing blow at her exposed side—only to be forced away by the knight’s charging form. The knight slammed his gauntlet into Kael’s midsection, the blow hammering the breath from his lungs. Kael stumbled, doubling over in pain, even as he tried to keep his sword between him and the knight.
“She was right,” the knight growled, towering over Kael. “You’re alone.”
Kael braced for a finishing thrust, but just then, a deafening crack echoed through the temple. In a blur, the hooded woman dashed forward from her corner of the chamber, her voice raised in a single, resonant incantation. The cracks in the walls and ceiling she had worked on earlier widened in a violent chain reaction. Chunks of debris began to rain down, forcing the knight to retreat or be crushed under the falling stones.
Seeing her opening, the sorceress flung a final lash of shadows at Kael, but he mustered what remained of his strength, batting it aside with an arcing slash. The piece of ceiling crashed between them, sending dust and rubble flying. In the sudden maelstrom, Kael coughed, stumbling away from the crash site. The temple shuddered ominously, as if it might fully collapse at any moment.
The hooded woman met Kael’s gaze through the swirling debris. “Get ready to leave!” she shouted, her voice echoing over the din of falling stone. “We can’t hold this place forever!”
Kael’s heart pounded, the Mark thrumming in volatile agreement. The Sovereign’s Chosen were still alive—somewhere in the chaos—but the collapsing temple wouldn’t differentiate friend from foe. If he lingered, he risked being buried along with them.
He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the nameless man disengaging from the assassin, both narrowly avoiding another cascade of rubble. Then Kael looked forward, where the knight and the sorceress struggled to maintain their footing amid the crumbling architecture. Dust and darkness swallowed them from view.
An inescapable truth echoed in his mind: This battle was far from settled. Yet survival demanded retreat. He spat a curse, his anger at being forced away warring with relief at the sudden reprieve. The Mark pulsed angrily, as though mocking his choice.
With a last, reluctant look at the swirling dust where his enemies stood, Kael turned and sprinted toward the hooded woman. The temple groaned in protest, stones collapsing from above as if the ancient structure had finally reached its breaking point.
He wasn’t fleeing out of cowardice—he told himself that again and again. This was strategy. Live to fight another day, and unravel more of the Imperium’s secrets. Survive to learn the Mark’s true nature. Breathe, even if it hurt, so he could come back stronger.
But as Kael fled the wreckage, the Mark still burning in his veins, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that he was abandoning not just the fight, but a part of himself in those ruins.