Flowers can't bloom in my shadow

The scene was clear Nightshade had been crushed under a whole structure. He couldn't have survived that. Even if he could phase through attacks, he shouldn't be able to do that with whole tunnels. Or so she had thought.

She turned to leave, her mission was completed, but then a deep voice spoke. Someone was casually reciting a poem, maybe not a poem, but the words were definitely poetic. "In the night, when the shade of darkness covers everything that claims to glitter. A lone flower, far from its habitat, tries to stretch roots in an unfamiliar place. Seeking sunlight and waiting to bloom. But not even the light of the moon shall shine where I cast my shadow."

Lisa clenched her weapon, turned around, and saw Nightshade. Sitting with his legs crossed comfortably on top of the rubble that should have crushed him.

(Aurafarming)

"What sorcery is this? She muttered.

She looked at him—not like a hunter.

Not like a soldier.

But like someone who understood what she was seeing, and still chose to face it.

Zac chuckled.

Low and slow.

Then he tilted his head slightly, like a gentleman offering a toast.

"What took you so long, Miss Lisa?" His voice echoed against the stone, amused. "I've been waiting for over three sunshifts."

Lisa didn't smile.

Didn't lower her sword.

Her eyes flicked to the injured knights behind him, then returned to meet his gaze.

"You killed too many this time."

Nightshade burst into laughter as if she were doing a stand-up comedy, before blending back into his vigilante persona.

"I didn't come for mercy, for I am the blade of justice. There was a time when I didn't strike down my enemies, Lisa, but the sound of metal is louder than the sound of wood." Zac said, sheathing his blade calmly.

"Don't turn tail and run!!"

Lisa lunched at him, like a missile in the air. He felt her power, a level he had never faced before. An Accended. Before she could reach Zac, however, he vanished from her sight, appearing behind her. He was about to strike when he noticed her body shift mind air, feet flaming with a back kick. He slashed. Her flaming leg and his sword collided, causing him to skid across the ground. Lisa landed safely and dropped into a stance. She looked like a sculpture of a warrior goddess.

Zac's hands vibrated from the impact. Finally a worthy challenge. But, "Not tonight," he muttered. It's past my bedtime. School is later. He thought

"I have somewhere to be."

"You think I'll let you leave?" she asked

"I think," he said, slowly approaching her, "you'll try."

They stood, eyes locked. The heat from her last strike still radiated from the crumpled debris. Between them was nothing but silence and stone.

Then Zac turned, "Adios," he said. Before Lisa could follow, he vanished, leaving the baffled Lisa behind. She held her chin, "What sort of spell was that? Teleportation?"

Moments later, back at the camp. The guards patrolled. As per Lisa's previous instructions, a guard patrolling the cells whistled as he reached the cell where the townsfolk were. He was tasked with checking the prisoners, if he saw any suspicious happenings, the alarm would surely be sounded. Nightshade might have been fast, but even he couldn't be in two places at once. The guard began, one, two, three.. eight he counted, his gaze lingered on where Zac was supposed to be. Zac, whom he didn't know had vanished and reappeared, sat with his eyes closed. He had made it back into his cell for a checkup and a little bit of sleep.

Lisa began checking the scene for any clues. Smoke still lingered in the deeper halls, curling under doorframes and clinging to the scorched stones, but the chaos was over. Bodies lay still in the upper courtyard, their blood already dried. Broken weapons littered the corridors. Most of the guards were still unconscious or too wounded to move.

Lisa stood alone in the lower cells, the air damp and stale around her. Her footsteps echoed quietly as she stepped through the final arch into the farthest room. This was where the two men had been held—the ones marked for execution at dawn.

The cells were open.

The chains lay empty on the floor.

She stared at them.

No damage. No forced locks. No magical residue.

Just absence.

Gone.

Lisa didn't speak. She didn't curse. She didn't call for reinforcements. She just stood there, her sword lowered at her side, the last traces of adrenaline still humming beneath her skin.

When?

She retraced the battle in her mind—the fight in the tunnels, the heat of the flames, the way he blurred and disappeared and reappeared like a shifting shadow. She had kept him occupied the entire time. She knew that. He hadn't left her sight for more than a breath.

And yet, here it was.

Two missing prisoners.

Lisa pressed her back against the cold wall, exhaled slowly, and let her gaze drop to the floor.

Just who was Nightshade?

His story didn't make sense. His techniques, his power—none of it fit into the records. A man who was capable of weaving illegal sorcery while matching a dozen knights in live combat would have been recognized from a young age. No mentor. No formal training. No lineage.

He was a freak. Little did she know Kyle was at a young age, so it was time for him to be recognized.

But still…

Her eyes narrowed as she remembered the moment. Mid-fight, her flaming leg had collided with his sword. For a split second, he'd lost footing. She'd seen it. That wasn't phasing. That wasn't an illusion.

That was an impact.

He was real. Tangible. Vulnerable.

She could feel the resistance in her leg when she swept him with fire. The sword hadn't vanished—it had caught. And that told her one thing.

He could be hit.

He wasn't some ghost of vengeance.

He was flesh and blood.

One just needed the right timing.

The realization sparked a quiet grin across her face. Not one of victory. But of certainty.