Chapter 10: Shadows of the Past

The narrow alleyways of New Sun Quarter City's rougher district were no place for the faint-hearted. But Bari moved through the shadows like he owned them—alert, calculating. The years had carved him lean and sharp, his body a map of hardened muscles, his hands formed caluses and scars earned from eight years of relentless training. At seventeen, he was no longer the scrappy street kid who'd wandered in with nothing but a storm in his chest. He was something far more dangerous.

Black Hair with a front undercut of white — tousled, streaked with darker roots. Crimson eyes, narrow and clear, reflecting back a sharp awareness I hadn't always possessed. Staring at a nearby window, Bari reflected on his looks. "My face… It is leaner now. Less boyish. Still young, but etched with something older." He stoped admiring himself and kept on walking, passing by crowds crowds of people who parted the way for him to walk. Bari, standing at a whopping, six foot two, was a magnet for attention.

Ahead, a familiar figure waited beneath a flickering streetlamp—his mentor. The grizzled swordsman cracked a smirk and drew his blade. "Ready to prove yourself, kid?"

Bari smiled, steel in his eyes. "Always."

Their blades sang a brutal duet—precision, strength, and strategy locked in deadly balance. Bari's moves were sharp, refined, a product of sweat and stubborn will. He wasn't an awakened like his tutor—he had no supernatural powers—but every parry, every strike, carried the weight of hard-earned skill. His mentor grunted in approval, a rare smile breaking through the weathered lines of his face.

Later, at Stillbrew, the café was quiet except for the soft clink of cups and the hum of the city beyond its walls. Toma stood behind the counter, eyes reflecting the flicker of candlelight and concern. "The streets are getting worse," he said quietly. "More kids have been brought into the Nightmares than I've seen in years. People disappearing, dragged under by the Spell."

Toma spoke in a calm tone.

Bari nodded, the memory of the novel Shadow Slave flickering in his mind—the stories of power, sacrifice, and survival. His past life before the city felt like a distant dream, but the lessons it taught him burned sharper than ever. The Nightmare Spell wasn't just a sotry here—it was a looming storm, one that threatened to sweep them him away.

He looked out the window at the city's restless lights. This year, they said, the worst yet—the highest number of people pulled into the Nightmares on record.

Bari's jaw tightened. The battle ahead wasn't just about swords or strategy—it was a fight for survival, against forces that preyed on the mind and soul. But he was ready. Had to be.

Because sometimes, the darkest shadows were the ones you carried inside yourself.

He knew that if he got pulled into the nightmare, his trial would be something… devastating.