Greg_Harris_4507

In the gritty streets of Kallzara, a small wayside town where light barely touches the alleys, Revan Sorna survives by his wits—and by magic long forbidden. With the help of a shadowy tome found in forgotten ruins beneath the city, Revan can summon shadows to deceive and distract, but such power comes with a price: shadows cannot be created from nothing, and his own is lazy and stubborn, testing his patience at every turn.

Revan’s partner in crime, Cassie, is a clever con artist with a talent for ice magic and a convincing lost-girl act. Together, they make a perfect team, surviving by picking pockets, pulling cons, and running from those who would see their kind dead or worse.

Tonight’s target is an easy mark: a drunken sailor leaving The Golden Pig tavern. But when Revan’s swift theft is interrupted by a brutal punch, the simple job spirals into something far more dangerous—and far more personal.

As dark secrets from the ruins threaten to surface and enemies close in, Revan and Cassie must rely on their skills, their magic, and each other to survive. But in a town where shadow magic is heresy and trust is a currency rarer than gold, survival might just mean losing everything.

Where Shadows Walk

A post-Crown short storyCharacter Focus: Revan

The village of Duskmere didn't ask questions.

It lay nestled against the forest's edge, where the ley no longer pulsed or sang — only whispered, low and uncertain. The people there lived by crops, river tides, and stories they didn't believe in anymore.

He'd built the cabin himself, with rough edges and creaking stairs. It tilted slightly, like it had never expected to last long. Just like him.

Each morning, he rose before the sun, boiled tea made of bitterthorn leaves, and trained — not for war, but for rhythm. The sword he used now was wooden. Dull. Intentional.

His shadow no longer followed him, not like it used to. Now it sat quietly in the corners, patient, like a friend who'd decided to let him lead for once.

The Children Came First

First just one — a girl with a split lip and a stubborn eye. Then two more. Then a pack of them, half-feral, always asking questions:

"Is it true shadows can talk?""Were you a Ghostblade?""Did you really kill a man just by standing behind him?"

But he taught them how to stand still.How to breathe through fear.How to move without being seen — not for killing, but for protecting.

Then the Letter Came

Nine years.He hadn't seen any of them since.

So when the letter from Cassie arrived — sealed in blue wax, frost-cracked around the edges — he stared at it for a long time before opening it.

That name hit like a blade pressed to the sternum — not cutting, but reminding him he could still bleed.

They'd thought Kael had died holding the leyline ritual with the scholar. A flash. A scream. Silence.

If Kael lived, it meant the ley still owed them both something.

He Burned the Letter

Because Revan knew what the others didn't:

The Crown was gone.But something older than it still moved beneath the roots.And if Kael had returned… the world might be waking again.

So He Stood One Last Time

He packed only what he needed — his blade, his memories, and a bundle of bitterthorn leaves.

Before leaving, he turned to the children gathered in the trees.

"If anyone comes here asking who taught you," he said,"Tell them it was no one. Just the wind."

One of them — the girl with the split lip — looked up at him.

And then, for the first time in years, Revan smiled.

"Only if there's still a shadow to hide in."

He vanished into the forest.

But to begin again.

But as a witness.

The Weight of Quiet Things