The Weight of the Dead

The air was thick with the scent of blood.

I stood among the bodies, my breath coming in uneven bursts, my chest rising and falling as though the weight of what just happened pressed down on me like an iron chain. The battlefield was silent now. No cries of pain. No clash of steel. No struggle. Only the eerie stillness of death.

The silence should've been comforting, but it wasn't. It was suffocating. The bodies sprawled at my feet weren't just corpses—they were proof of something far more disturbing.

I did this.

My hands trembled at my sides. Not from fear. Not even from exhaustion. But from the lingering sensation of power still coiling within me, slithering beneath my skin, begging to be released again. The shadows that had once obeyed my sister, that had once risen at her command, had now answered me.

And yet… it wasn't enough.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breathing, but the hollow ache in my chest only grew deeper. The power had surged through me like a flood, overwhelming and unstoppable, and for a fleeting moment, it had felt right. Selene's shadow had risen. Her presence had been there. I had felt her.

But it had vanished just as quickly.

Gone, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. I wasn't strong enough to hold onto it. Not yet.

A bitter taste filled my mouth. Rage. Frustration. Failure.

I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. The world thought Selene had died taking these men down. They thought her sacrifice had been enough to stop them.

They didn't know the truth.

She hadn't been alone that night.

And neither had I.

I exhaled sharply and forced my body to move. My legs were heavy, aching with the weight of fatigue, but I couldn't stay here. If I could sense them, then others could sense me.

The bodies at my feet had barely begun to cool, but already, I could feel new presences approaching. Stronger than the ones I had just killed. Their energy crackled in the air, distant but closing in. I didn't need to see them to know what they were.

Faction soldiers. The kind that didn't hesitate to eliminate threats.

And I had just become the biggest threat in the ruins.

I forced myself to move, stepping over the fallen bodies, my boots leaving faint imprints in the dirt where blood had begun to seep into the cracked stone. Every muscle in my body screamed, demanding rest, but rest was a luxury I couldn't afford.

Not now.

Not when they were coming.

A flicker of heat pulsed through the air behind me, faint but growing. A moment later, I heard them.

"Where's the squad?" a voice demanded, sharp and clipped. A leader. His energy flared—hot and oppressive. A fire-user.

A second voice answered, shaken. "They—" A pause. A ragged breath. "They're gone. Completely gone."

Silence. A long, dangerous silence.

Then, the first voice spoke again, lower this time, calculating. "No. There's something here. You feel that?"

I could feel them now. They weren't just soldiers. They were elites.

One of them carried a stillness about them, unnatural, like the very air around them refused to move. Gravity manipulation?

Another had a rhythmic pulse to their energy, a low hum that vibrated through the air with an eerie consistency. Sound-based ability.

And the leader? His aura crackled like embers barely restrained, his very presence radiating heat. I didn't need to see him to know what he was. A fire-wielder. A dangerous one.

I was outmatched. Not just in numbers, but in experience. The ones I had killed earlier were nothing compared to this team.

A slow, creeping realization settled in my bones.

I shouldn't have survived the last fight. I should be lying in the dirt alongside the dead. But my power had acted on its own, rising in defiance of that fate.

Now, I had to make a choice. Fight—or disappear.

I gritted my teeth and forced my breathing to steady. I wasn't ready for this. Not yet. My control was too unstable. My shadows listened, but they didn't obey. Not completely.

If I wanted to live, I had to be smart.

Careful.

I pressed myself deeper into the ruins, stepping into the darker recesses where the light of the moon couldn't reach. The shadows stirred around me, restless but silent. I moved like a ghost, each step measured, calculated.

A flicker of movement caught my eye—a sliver of flame in the distance, illuminating the wreckage of the battlefield. The soldiers were advancing, scanning the area, looking for signs of life.

Looking for me.

I crouched behind a crumbling wall, pressing my back against the cold stone. My heartbeat was steady now, controlled. If I did this right, I could slip away before they ever realized I was here.

But if I made a mistake…

"Footprints," one of them muttered. Too close.

A scuff of boots against dirt. Another soldier spoke, voice edged with tension. "They lead into the ruins."

The fire-user exhaled slowly. "Good."

A rush of heat flared, and I felt the air shift, dry and scorching. He was preparing something.

No more running. They weren't going to let me leave.

I closed my eyes. My shadow pulsed beneath me, writhing, hungry. I had spent my whole life being powerless. But not anymore.

I exhaled. Focus.

The moment the first flame erupted, I moved.

My shadow snapped outward, swallowing the light before it could reach me. A curse rang through the air—one of the soldiers stumbling back, momentarily blinded. I didn't give them a chance to recover.

The second soldier turned towards the disturbance, energy crackling as they prepared to strike. But they were too slow. My shadows lashed forward, coiling around their limbs, pulling them into the darkness.

A strangled gasp. A sickening crack.

Two down.

The fire-user reacted instantly. A wall of flames roared to life, cutting off my path of escape. Heat seared against my skin, but the pain barely registered. My shadows recoiled from the blaze, hissing like a living thing.

The leader stepped forward, eyes locking onto me through the fire. "You should be dead."

I didn't answer. My focus was on the shadows beneath me, shifting, whispering, waiting.

"You're not normal," he continued. "What are you?"

A slow smile curled at my lips, humorless and dark. I wasn't sure I even knew the answer to that myself.

But one thing was certain.

I was alive.

And soon… they would all know my name.