Elden lay pinned beneath Dusk's shadowy tendrils, his heart pounding as he felt his strength ebbing away. The spymaster loomed over him, victory gleaming in his otherworldly eyes. Hope seemed lost, the forest of Whispervale silent save for Elden's labored breathing.
Suddenly, a small voice pierced the tension. "Leave him alone, you big meanie!"
Both Elden and Dusk turned to see a young girl, no more than six years old, emerge from behind a gnarled oak tree. It was the same child they had rescued from the Silent Ears' cages. Her face was set in determination as she hefted a wooden bucket, clearly too heavy for her small frame.
Before either man could react, the girl hurled the bucket's contents at Dusk. Water arced through the air, droplets catching the moonlight like liquid stars. For a moment, Elden's heart leapt with hope—but the water passed harmlessly through Dusk's shadowy form, splashing against the forest floor.
Dusk turned to the girl, his expression unreadable. Elden tensed, fearing the worst, but to his surprise, Dusk's next actions were gentle. With a wave of his hand, tendrils of shadow wrapped around the child like a soft blanket. Her eyes drooped, and she yawned widely.
"Sleep, little one," Dusk murmured, his voice unexpectedly tender. "This is no place for you."
As the girl drifted into a peaceful slumber, Dusk carefully moved her to a safe spot beneath a nearby tree, well away from their conflict. The act of compassion, so at odds with the brutal battle moments before, gave Elden pause.
But it was the water, still glistening on the ground, that truly captured Elden's attention. As moonlight danced across its surface, an idea began to form in his mind—a desperate, perhaps impossible gambit.
Drawing on the last reserves of his strength, Elden reached deep into his Wellspring, grasping at the threads of memory magic and the pulsing core of his newfound chrono abilities. He focused on the puddle of water, seeing it not just as a liquid, but as a mirror—a reflection of possibility.
With a surge of will, Elden wove the two magics together in a way he'd never attempted before. Memory strands intertwined with shimmering temporal energy, creating a lattice of pure magical potential.
Elden felt a searing pain in his temples, the strain of the untested combination threatening to overwhelm him.
"What are you—" Dusk began, but his words were cut short as Elden's spell took shape.
He pushed through the pain, focusing on a singular purpose: to use the water as a conduit, to capture Dusk's own memory of himself—a time when he was whole, corporeal, vulnerable to the physical world.
A blinding flash of light erupted from the puddle, washing over Dusk in a wave of temporal energy infused with the essence of memory. The shadow mage's form flickered violently, his shadows dissipating like smoke in a strong wind. For the first time since their encounter began, Dusk looked truly solid—and truly vulnerable.
Elden scrambled to his feet, ready to press his advantage, but the sight before him gave him pause. Dusk stood rigid, his eyes wide with shock and something else—recognition?
"You," Dusk whispered, his voice trembling. "How did you..."
Before Elden could respond, the air around them shimmered. Both he and Dusk were swept into a cascade of fragmented memories, the forest of Whispervale dissolving around them like mist in the morning sun.
---
A grand city of gleaming spires and bustling streets materialized in its place. Nexus, in all its pre-Shattering glory, sprawled before them. The air thrummed with the energy of countless Wellsprings, a symphony of magical potential that made Elden's skin tingle. He watched, mesmerized, as a younger Dusk moved through the city with purpose, his steps silent and his eyes alert.
"I was Nexus's shadow," Dusk's voice echoed through the memory, a mixture of pride and sorrow coloring his words. "To protect from the darkness that others couldn't see."
Elden observed as memory-Dusk slipped through crowded marketplaces and ducked into hidden alleyways. He noted the warmth in Dusk's eyes when speaking with informants, the gentle reassurance he offered to those in need of protection.
The scene shifted, and Elden found himself in a dimly lit tavern. Memory-Dusk sat in a corner booth, his eyes fixed on a young man nervously fidgeting at the bar. With a subtle gesture, Dusk beckoned the youth over.
"Sylas, isn't it?" Memory-Dusk asked, his voice low and reassuring. "I've been watching you. You have potential."
The young man—Sylas—looked around nervously before sliding into the booth. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered.
Dusk's lips curved into a knowing smile. "You're quick, observant. You see things others miss. That's a valuable skill in my line of work."
"And what line of work is that?" Sylas asked, curiosity overcoming his caution.
"Protection," Dusk replied simply. "Keeping Nexus safe from threats most people never even know exist. It's not an easy life, but it's a worthy one. Are you interested?"
Elden watched as young Sylas's eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and determination. He could see the moment the boy made his decision that set him on the path that would eventually lead to their confrontation in Whispervale.
"I'll do it," Sylas said firmly. "I want to help protect Nexus."
Memory-Dusk nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Welcome to the Faded Ones, kid. We've got a lot of work to do."
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
The scene dissolved, reforming into a series of rapid-fire images: Dusk training Sylas in the art of stealth and subterfuge, the two of them foiling plots against Nexus, saving lives in the nick of time. With each memory, Elden could see the bond between them growing stronger, a mentor and protégé united in their mission to safeguard their city.
But then the memories took a darker turn. Elden watched as Sylas grew more ruthless in his methods, his actions becoming tinged with a hunger for power that made Memory-Dusk frown with concern.
"Power is a means to an end, Sylas," Memory-Dusk cautioned during a tense conversation. "Not the end itself. We serve Nexus, not our own ambitions."
Sylas's face hardened, a spark of defiance in his eyes. "And what good is service if we're always hiding in the shadows? We could do so much more if people knew what we did for them."
Before Memory-Dusk could respond, the air crackled with an otherworldly energy. The Shattering had begun.
Elden watched in horror as reality itself seemed to fracture. The sky split open, raining down shards of magic that tore through the fabric of existence. People ran screaming through the streets as buildings crumbled in chaotic bursts of power.
A wave of energy unlike anything he'd ever felt before washed over him. Dusk's form began to waver, merging with the very shadows he had used for concealment. His eyes widened in panic as he felt himself dissolving, unable to maintain his corporeal form.
As Dusk's form wavered, becoming increasingly insubstantial, Elden saw Sylas frantically searching the chaotic streets. The young protégé's eyes darted back and forth, panic etched across his face.
"Dusk!" Sylas shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of The Shattering. "Where are you? Don't leave me!" Dusk tried to call out, to reach for his apprentice, but his voice couldn't penetrate the veil of shadow that now enshrouded him.
---
The memory faded, and Elden found himself back in the present, the forests of Whispervale surrounding them once more. Dusk fell to his knees, his form flickering between solid and shadow, the aftermath of Elden's spell still affecting him.
"I've been fading away ever since," Dusk whispered, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Losing my humanity bit by bit, day by day. At first, I thought it was a blessing—the ultimate form of stealth. But as time passed, I realized the true cost."
Elden's mind raced, piecing together the fragments of information. "So the Cabal promised to help you regain your physical form," he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But... what if they never intended to? What if this was all part of their plan?"
Dusk's eyes met Elden's, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in their depths. "I... I don't know anymore," he whispered, his form flickering violently. "I've served them for so long, believing... hoping..."
"The Shattering, the time-touched individuals, your transformation—they might all be connected," Elden continued, his words coming faster as he worked through his theory. "But why? What could the Cabal gain from all this suffering?"
The weight of realization seemed to crush Dusk, his form wavering as if he might dissolve into the shadows at any moment. "Power," he said bitterly. "It's always about power with them. But I never wanted that. I just wanted..."
"To protect people," Elden finished softly. "Like you did before."
Dusk nodded, a flicker of his old self shining through. "Nexus was my home, my purpose. I watched over it for years, kept it safe from threats both within and without. And now..." He gestured at his flickering form. "Now I'm barely more than a ghost, clinging to the memory of who I once was."
For a moment, Dusk seemed to struggle with himself, as if deciding whether to trust Elden with his past. Then, with a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his being, he began to speak.
"Nexus was... magnificent," Dusk said, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "A beacon of knowledge and progress in a world often mired in darkness. But with great power comes great temptation. My job was to root out those who would abuse that power, who would twist Nexus's gifts to their own ends."
As Dusk spoke, his form seemed to stabilize slightly, as if the act of remembering was anchoring him to reality. Elden listened intently, recognizing the importance of this moment.
"I built a network of informants, trained operatives like Sylas to be my eyes and ears throughout the city," Dusk continued. "We thwarted assassination attempts, and uncovered smuggling rings dealing in forbidden artifacts"
"And Sylas?" Elden prompted. "How did he go from your protégé to... what he became?"
A shadow of pain crossed Dusk's face. "Sylas was dedicated. But he always wanted more. More recognition, more power. I tried to teach him the value of of serving a cause greater than oneself. But in the end..."
Dusk's voice trailed off, and for a moment, Elden thought he might retreat back into silence. But then the shadow mage seemed to steel himself, continuing with renewed determination.
"After The Shattering, everything changed. The world was in chaos, and Nexus... Nexus was gone. I was lost, trapped between shadow and substance, watching as everything I had fought to protect crumbled around me."
Elden felt a pang of sympathy. He knew all too well the pain of losing one's home, one's purpose. "And that's when the Cabal found you?"
Dusk nodded. "They offered me hope—a chance to regain my physical form, to have purpose again. I was desperate, and I... I didn't ask enough questions."
"What did they have you do?" Elden asked, dreading the answer.
"At first, it was simple tasks. Gathering information, tracking down artifacts that had been scattered during The Shattering. But as time went on, their demands grew darker. They wanted me to hunt down time-touched individuals, to... harvest them."
Elden's blood ran cold. "Harvest them? You mean..."
"Extract their temporal energy," Dusk confirmed, his voice hollow. "I told myself it was necessary, that it was for the greater good. But deep down, I knew... I knew I had become the very thing I once fought against."
The forest around them seemed to grow quieter, as if nature itself was holding its breath in the face of this revelation. Elden's mind whirled with the implications of what he had learned.
"Dusk," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I think I might be able to help you. My chrono magic, combined with memory weaving—it seemed to stabilize your form, at least temporarily. If we work together, maybe we can find a way to reverse what The Shattering did to you."
Dusk looked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes quickly replaced by suspicion. "Why would you help me?"
Elden took a deep breath. "We need someone like you."
For a long moment, Dusk was silent, his form flickering as he wrestled with internal conflict. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Alright," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll help you. But know this—if I sense any deception, any attempt to use me as the Cabal did, I won't hesitate to return you to the shadows. Permanently."
Elden extended his hand, a gesture of trust in a world where such things had become rare.
As Dusk reached out to clasp Elden's hand, a spark of magic passed between them. For a brief moment, Dusk's form solidified completely, his eyes shining with a glimmer of his old self.