A World Unseen

The slums of Vorthas were alive with the sounds of desperation. Cries of vendors hawking meager wares, the scuffle of hungry children chasing rats through narrow alleys, and the distant clang of metal—threats made manifest in the hands of gang enforcers. It was a cacophony Kael knew too well, a soundtrack to survival.

He moved through the labyrinth of crumbling shacks and sagging rooftops, his cloak pulled tightly around him. The faint, dark marks now spreading across his hands were hidden beneath the fabric. Shadows clung to him more than ever, shifting unnaturally with his movements.

"They're watching you."

The thought clawed at him, persistent and unshakable. Every corner seemed to harbor eyes. Every shadow stretched too far, lingered too long.

Kael exhaled sharply, forcing his nerves to settle. He could already see his destination—a shanty pieced together with rusted scrap metal and rotting wood. Its roof sagged under the weight of rainwater that had long since soaked into the walls, and the faint glow of candlelight flickered through the cracks.

"Lira," he muttered, quickening his pace.

Inside, the air was stale but familiar, carrying the faint scent of dried herbs and the unmistakable coppery tang of blood. Lira Draven sat cross-legged on a threadbare blanket, her pale hands working deftly to wrap bandages around the arm of a young boy no older than ten.

"Keep it still, Jin," she said gently, her voice soft but firm. The boy whimpered, biting his lip to suppress a cry as Lira tied off the bandage. "There. That'll stop the bleeding for now, but you need to keep it clean, all right?"

The boy nodded quickly, his wide eyes glancing at Kael as he stepped into the room.

"You're safe now," Lira reassured him, tousling the boy's matted hair. "Go find your mother. She'll be worried."

Jin scrambled to his feet, murmured a quick thanks, and darted out the door.

Lira turned to Kael, her warm smile faltering the moment she saw him. "You're hurt."

Kael looked down at his side. Blood had seeped through his tunic, staining the fabric. The wound from the Netherbeast had closed, but the skin around it was darkened, as if scorched.

"It's nothing," he said quickly, shrugging off her concern. "Just ran into a bit of trouble out there."

"You always do," she muttered, moving toward him with practiced efficiency. "Sit."

Kael hesitated but relented, lowering himself onto the floor. Lira knelt beside him, her fingers brushing his shirt aside to inspect the wound. Her brow furrowed.

"This… this doesn't look right." She glanced up at him, worry etched into her features. "What happened?"

Kael hesitated. The memory of the figure—the Shadowmancer, or whatever it was—still lingered in his mind. The voice, the shadows, the whispers that had burrowed into his soul. How could he explain it to her?

"I ran into something," he said finally. "Something… strange."

Lira's hands paused. She looked at him, her expression unreadable. "What do you mean, strange?"

"I don't know how to describe it. A man, or… something like one. He did this." Kael gestured vaguely to his wound. "And then he vanished."

The lie tasted bitter in his mouth, but the truth felt like too much—too dangerous to share, even with her.

Lira studied him for a moment longer before sighing. "You need to be more careful, Kael. I can't keep patching you up if you don't come back in one piece."

Kael smirked, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You've been saying that for years. I'm still here, aren't I?"

Lira shook her head, her worry softening into exasperation. "Barely." She sat back, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Did you find anything useful this time?"

Kael reached into his satchel and pulled out the pendant, its tarnished surface glinting faintly in the candlelight. He held it out to her, watching as her eyes widened.

"It's not much," he said, "but it should fetch enough to keep the gangs off our backs for a while."

Lira took the pendant carefully, turning it over in her hands. "It's beautiful," she murmured, a rare smile breaking through her exhaustion.

For a moment, the weight on Kael's shoulders lifted.

But the moment didn't last.

The air in the room grew heavy, the shadows deepening unnaturally. Kael stiffened, his hand instinctively going to his dagger.

"Did you feel that?" he asked, his voice low.

Lira frowned. "Feel what?"

Before he could answer, the flickering candlelight guttered, casting the room into near-darkness. Kael was on his feet in an instant, his eyes scanning the corners of the shanty.

"Kael?" Lira's voice was tight with fear.

"Stay behind me," he said sharply.

The shadows shifted, pulling together in the far corner of the room. Kael's heart raced as a figure began to take shape, its outline indistinct and flickering like smoke.

"You…" the voice rasped, low and guttural.

Kael's blood ran cold. It was the same voice he had heard in the ruins.

"Kael, what is that?" Lira whispered, clutching his arm.

"I don't know," he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

The figure stepped forward, the shadows clinging to it like a second skin. Its face was still obscured, but its presence was unmistakable—the Shadowmancer.

"You are marked," the figure said, its gaze fixed on Kael. "The Codex has chosen you."

Kael tightened his grip on his dagger, though he knew it would be useless. "What do you want?"

"To warn you," the figure replied. "The path ahead is not one of safety. The power you bear will draw others to you—beasts, men, and worse. They will seek to take it. To take you."

Kael's jaw clenched. "Then why give it to me? Why not keep it yourself?"

The figure's voice was almost amused. "Because you are... necessary."

The shadows around it began to unravel, fading back into the darkness.

"Wait!" Kael shouted, stepping forward. "What am I supposed to do with this? What is the Codex?"

The figure paused, its form flickering. "Survive," it said simply.

And then it was gone.

The silence that followed was deafening. Kael stood motionless, his chest heaving, as Lira clutched his arm.

"What just happened?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kael didn't answer. His gaze fell to his shadow, which twisted and writhed unnaturally beneath him.

The Eclipse Codex was no longer just a burden. It was a target.

And now, so was he.