Althara's gaze remained steady, her voice calm but commanding. "My name," she began, pausing for effect. Carter, Charles, and Ethan, who had been dying to know her full name since they first met her, unconsciously leaned in, their anticipation palpable.
"Althara Shadowbane," she declared, her tone ringing with quiet authority.
The words hung in the air, and everyone's eyes widened in disbelief. The name carried a weight that seemed to silence the world around them.
Roman’s eyes widened in disbelief. “S-she’s bluffing! Merlin Shadowbane only had one son, and he’s locked away, rotting in Caldara Bastille in the Ironclad Isles! There’s no record of an Althara Shadowbane!” he spat, trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.
The goon she had been holding grunted, rubbing his sore wrist. “Bluff or not, boss, she’s strong as hell!” he admitted before flipping backward to free himself from her grip.
Roman scowled and snapped at another goon. “Get her! If we bring her to the big boss, we’ll be swimming in rewards!”
Goon #2 stepped forward, his hand crackling with fiery energy. “Dragon’s Flare!” he shouted, sending a blazing shot of fire hurtling toward Althara.
Althara leaped effortlessly over the flames, her movements precise and fluid. As the fire twisted to follow her, she raised her hand, and a shimmering barrier of clouds materialized, absorbing the blast entirely.
“T-that’s…!” Roman stammered, his face pale. “People said Merlin could manipulate clouds like that! This bitch is a wizard!”
Althara landed gracefully in front of Goon #2, dodging his flurry of attacks with ease. Spotting a stick on the ground, she picked it up and spun it with deadly precision. The goon’s eyes widened as she parried his attacks with the skill of a seasoned fighter. Her movements were unnervingly reminiscent of the legendary techniques only Merlin Shadowbane and his son, Melanthius, were known to wield.
At one point, the goon recoiled, clutching his chest as if he had been struck by a blade. He frantically checked for wounds, but there was none. The stick had cut through the air with such deadly precision that it left him feeling as though he had been sliced—proof of the weapon’s lethality in her hands.
Roman’s frustration boiled over. “Stop standing there! Just get her!” he bellowed.
Goon #2 charged again, only to be struck in the face by the stick with a sharp crack. He staggered back but rushed in once more, and again, Althara struck him with unrelenting precision.
Again and again, he lunged, and again and again, the stick met its mark until his face was a mask of red welts and bruises. Each strike seemed faster, sharper, and more humiliating than the last.
Althara pointed the stick at Goon #2 and commanded, “Dupleos!” A brilliant purple glow erupted from the stick, sending a wave of energy that knocked the goon unconscious in an instant.
Roman’s rage boiled over, and he charged at her with a furious yell. But as he closed the distance, his steps faltered. Behind Althara, he swore he saw a ghostly figure—a shadowy image of Merlin Shadowbane himself, hovering as if to protect her. The sight sent a chill down his spine, and he froze in place for a moment too long.
Seizing the opportunity, Althara dashed forward with lightning speed and clotheslined Roman, flipping him upside down in midair. He crashed to the ground with a thud, but Althara wasn’t finished. With a fluid motion, she spun and struck him across the face with the stick, the sound of the impact echoing in the air.
Her grip on the stick tightened as she imbued it with cloud magic. The weapon shimmered with an ethereal glow, and she unleashed a barrage of strikes with blinding speed. Each blow landed with precision and force, a rapid onslaught that left Roman stunned and unable to retaliate.
The strikes were relentless, her movements a symphony of power and control, and Roman could only stumble back, overwhelmed by the sheer ferocity of her attack.
The three boys scrambled to their feet, their bravado shattered as they bolted, practically tripping over themselves in their desperation to escape. Roman clutched his face, muttering curses, while Goon #2 stumbled after him, still dazed from the beating. The trio disappeared into the distance, their tails metaphorically tucked between their legs.
Althara turned around to face Charles, Carter, and Ethan, her expression calm despite the chaos that had just unfolded. Her gaze lingered on them as she wiped a smear of blood onto her already tattered skirt. “What?” she asked nonchalantly, as though what she’d just done was the most natural thing in the world.
The three boys stood frozen, their jaws slack and their eyes wide with disbelief.
Carter was the first to speak, albeit in a stammer. “Y-you just… that was insane! You didn’t even flinch!”
Ethan blinked a few times, shaking his head as if to clear it. “You took them all down like they were nothing! And Roman saw... Merlin?! What the hell was that?”
Charles raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked her over. “Forget the fight—how did you know how to use that kind of magic? And with a stick, no less?”
Althara glanced down at the stick in her hand and shrugged. “It’s just clouds and a little technique,” she said casually, tossing the stick aside like it was a toy. “They started it.”
“Just clouds?” Carter repeated, his voice incredulous. “That’s not just anything! You fought like a warrior and a wizard combined!”
Ethan gestured toward the blood on her skirt. “And you’re just gonna... wipe blood off like this happens every day?”
Althara gave them a small, lazy smirk. “It kind of does,” she said, her tone as unbothered as ever.
Althara tossed the stick into the rushing water, watching it drift away. “I can’t stay here anymore,” she said firmly, her gaze distant. “Those guys will come back, and next time, they’ll bring reinforcements. I won’t let that happen.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and began climbing up the cliff, the others following close behind.
A little while later, Althara sat cross-legged at a kitchen table, her posture more relaxed but still alert. She was flanked by Charles, Carter, and Ethan, who were busy digging into plates of steaming spaghetti. Carter’s older sister, Stephanie, set down another plate in front of Althara, flashing a warm smile.
“I had no idea my little brother had so many friends,” Stephanie teased, crossing her arms. “I guess they call him the Boy Scout for a reason.”
Carter groaned, rolling his eyes. “Oh my god, shut up, Stephanie!”
Stephanie smirked, clearly enjoying his irritation, and leaned against the counter. “So, Althara,” she said, turning her attention to their mysterious guest, “did you enjoy the shower? And the clothes? I’m glad I had something in your size.” She gestured to Althara, who now looked much cleaner. She wore pajama shorts, a button-up shirt, and Ethan’s oversized sweater, her freshly washed hair falling loosely over her shoulders.
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Althara nodded, pausing her meal to glance up at Stephanie. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice quiet but sincere, before returning to her plate.
Stephanie smiled, clearly pleased. “You’re welcome,” she said, her tone warm. “It’s nice to see someone appreciating my cooking for once.”
Carter muttered something under his breath, but his mouth was too full of spaghetti for anyone to understand. Charles and Ethan chuckled, while Althara silently focused on her food, looking more at ease than she had since they’d met her.
Once Stephanie disappeared into her room, Ethan leaned in closer to Althara, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “So, are you related to Merlin? Like, his secret love child? Or maybe he, uh… preferred kids or something? His long-lost daughter?”
Althara stared at him blankly for a moment, then shook her head. “I have a dad… or had one,” she said softly. Her next words came out bluntly, almost casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “I’m Melanthius Shadowbane’s wife.”
The room fell into a stunned silence. Charles, Carter, and Ethan froze, their jaws practically hitting the table in unison.
“W-wife?” Carter finally managed to sputter, his voice cracking.
“Wait, wait, hold on,” Charles interjected, holding up a hand like he was trying to physically stop the conversation. “As in Melanthius Shadowbane, the prisoner of Caldara Bastille?! Merlin Shadowbane’s son?! The one who hasn’t left prison ever? Who is raised there?!”
Althara nodded. “Yes,” she said and Ethan slurped the spaghetti. “I call bullshit.”
Flashback
The guard chuckled, setting her down gently. With a skip and a hop, the girl approached Mel, who sat at the cafeteria table, staring at her as if she were an alien from another world.
“Uh, hello?” she said, tilting her head, her wide purple eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Mel nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. “Are you… the moon?” he asked, his voice small and uncertain.
Her cheeks flushed, heat rising for reasons she couldn’t fully comprehend. Puffing her chest out, she yelled, “I’m not the moon!” Her voice was loud enough to make Mel flinch.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, staring back down at his bowl of soup. “You remind me of it. You’re so shiny.”
Her breath hitched, clutching her chest as if her heart couldn’t handle the weight of the compliment. “I… I’m Althara,” she managed to stammer. “My father’s here looking for a job. We’re, um… lower class.”
Mel’s brow furrowed, his young mind working through the information. “I’m Melanthius. Call me Mel. My father was Merlin Shadowbane.”
Her expression froze, eyes widening in shock. “A-as in the overlord who conquered multiple kingdoms?!”
Mel nodded, unbothered, and resumed slurping his soup.
“Melanthius Shadowbane…” she repeated, tasting the heaviness of his name. Then, without hesitation, she climbed onto the table, her movements bold and unapologetic. She plopped herself down in front of him, completely ignoring the shocked stares of the guards. “From today on, me and you are together!”
Mel tilted his head, his face blank with confusion. “Together?”
“Yes!” she declared, her voice filled with childish conviction. “My father says the best relationships are long-distance! Well… I think that’s what he meant.”
Mel nodded hesitantly, still not entirely sure what she was talking about. “Okay.”
Grinning ear to ear, Althara pulled a rubber band from the floor and stretched it around her fingers like a makeshift ring. “From now on, I’m Althara Shadowbane! You may now kiss the bride!”
Before the moment could continue, the cafeteria door slammed open. The towering man from earlier stormed in, his face a mask of fury. His eyes locked on Melanthius, and without a word, he grabbed the boy by the back of his head, slamming his face into the table.
“You criminal bastard!” the man snarled, kicking Mel in the stomach with all his strength.
Mel gagged and coughed, but he stayed silent, his small frame shaking from the impact. The guards didn’t move, their faces grim and detached, as if this was a scene they had witnessed before.
“You dare talk to my daughter?!” the man spat, delivering another brutal kick. “Your father destroyed half my kingdom, and now you think you can speak to her?!”
Mel’s body crumpled under the weight of the blows, his vision darkening as his eyes began to roll back. Outside, the sky shifted ominously, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Suddenly, a jagged bolt of black lightning struck the towering walls of Caldara Bastille, briefly lighting up the grim cafeteria.
“Stop, Daddy!” Althara screamed, throwing herself between her father and Mel.
The man shoved her aside with a sneer. “Move, Althara! Nobody’s going to save this damned kid—not the guards, not anyone! Nobody here likes him!” He raised his foot to deliver another strike when a deafening crack of thunder shook the room.
Mel’s eyes shot open, glowing faintly with a purple hue. His trembling voice broke through the chaos. “Please… stop.”
At that moment, the prison warden and a younger Caldric appeared in the doorway. The warden’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. “That’s enough. We don’t have a job for you.”
The man’s face twisted in anger, but he gave a stiff bow. “Yes, sir.” He grabbed Althara roughly by the arm, dragging her toward the exit.
Althara bit her lip, her heart aching as she glanced back at Mel’s small, battered form lying motionless on the cold floor. Tears welled in her eyes as she clutched the rubber band tightly in her palm. “Is he always like this? He’s just a kid,” she whispered before disappearing with her father.
Present
Ethan groaned, ruffling Althara’s hair with playful annoyance. “That doesn’t make him your real husband! You were just kids, saying dumb kid stuff. What we really want to know is…” He leaned in closer, his tone lowering. “Where did you get Merlin Shadowbane’s power and skills? And where the hell did you come from?”
"Well, my father is Andhraka Liu—the King of the Napia Empire," Althara said, her tone calm but carrying a weight of importance. The boy’s eyes widened in shock.
“You’re a princess?!” Charles exclaimed. Then, leaning in, he added, “Wait—Andhraka beat up Melanthius?”
Althara tugged at the sleeves of her sweater, pulling them down as if to shield herself from the weight of the conversation. “Kind of,” she said, her voice quieter now. “My father was from the lowest class. But a few months after we visited Caldara Bastille, he took over an abandoned kingdom—one that used to belong to King Merlin. He flipped it into what is now the Napia Empire.”
The boys exchanged glances, intrigued, but Althara wasn’t done. “I have two siblings. My older sister ran away when I was younger, and my younger sister is Anita Liu,” she said, her voice softening slightly at the mention of her siblings.
Taking a steadying breath, she reached for the collar of Ethan’s sweater and tugged it down to reveal the skin around her collarbone. The boys instinctively turned their heads slightly, their hands shielding their eyes from seeing too much. What they did see, though, made them freeze in astonishment.
On her skin was a medallion—no, not just a medallion but an engraving that seemed impossibly fused into her flesh. It shimmered faintly, its intricate design unmistakable.
“This,” Althara said, gesturing to the engraving, “is the Shadowbane Medallion. Well, it was a regular medallion, but it used to belong to Merlin.”
She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing. “When I was younger, I wandered into the new kingdom and found it. I thought it was just an ordinary medallion, but when I put it on…” Her voice wavered for a moment. “It embedded itself into my skin. It’s like… his spirit is inside me. Not a ghost,” she clarified quickly, seeing their alarmed expressions. “But his skills and powers. They’re part of me now.”
Her explanation left the boys speechless, the weight of her story settling in the air around them like a tangible force.
Carter took a deep breath, steadying himself before speaking. “Well, if you don’t have any family, we’ll be your friends,” he said with quiet determination.
Ethan smirked as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Careful, though. Charles doesn’t even see me as a friend, so you might want to watch your back with him.”
Charles rolled his eyes and took a slow sip of his drink. “It was in the moment, okay? Chill out,” he muttered, clearly annoyed but not denying the accusation.
Ethan shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. Althara watched their playful banter unfold, a small smile tugging at her lips. She nodded, her voice soft but genuine. “Friends… That’s nice,” she said, almost as if testing the word on her tongue, a rare warmth in her tone.