They had told him about the shadow magic, but they failed to realize that it had its beginnings somewhere, that the man in the mirror had created it from something else, a magic older than anything he would have known about. No one wanted to realize that Soleki would have known other spells, other forms that rivaled any of Viscryn’s mage friends.

It felt stupid, now, to think that the creator of the serus would know nothing else. 

It began in the streets of Kanalion - the city they were supposed to protect. Soleki had returned, though the Academy had not believed it. For a week, they had been swarmed with reports of a black, opaque cloud emerging from the horizon, killing every tree it covered and leaving nothing but withered stumps. Fishermen in the sea were reported missing the moment the cloud crossed over to the border of Spotho, their boats empty as if the men had jumped ship. Or were devoured by a hunger that was ageless.

And all week, Kylantha refused to act. She read the reports and was not nearly worried enough, instead treating them like a tedious assignment. She sighed about having to assign Guardians to the dismal, lifeless areas, and nearly refused when Jasper insisted on going. She claimed that his duties were in the classroom, and when he had told Viscryn the night before he left anyways, he almost couldn’t believe it.

Kylantha had been at her desk when Viscryn rushed in, not bothering to close the door behind him. He didn’t give a damn if a student overheard, not when people were dying. 

“You seem angry,” his former crush said, looking up at him only briefly. “I hope this isn’t about what Mr. Ariza and I discussed earlier.”

“When the fuck did paperwork become more important to you than the literal serus cloud hovering over the world?” He snarled. “Or are the Guardians just your secretaries now?”

She sighed, closing her laptop to address him. “It is nothing but fear-mongering from our rivals. I would have expected you to perhaps think a bit more critically than this. From Jasper, I can understand, but you’re smarter than that-“

“That’s bullshit,” he interrupted, unsure if he was more pissed about the lies or about her insults to Jasper - one of the most experienced members in the Academy. “Is that why people are going missing? Why there are mass extinctions of wildlife in our areas, all circling closer to the city? You know this is more fucked up than anything we’ve ever seen. Are you going to act, or are you going to have us sit on our ass to death?”

“I have yet to detect a single serus amidst the city, nor have I even seen the supposed ‘cloud’ that you and Jasper and everyone else are obsessing over.” Kylantha paused, looking at the open door before lowering her voice. “I only allowed Jasper’s absence in hopes that leaving would help him. Perhaps … we overestimated his mental recovery when he lost his-“

His fist connected with the wall in his anger, punctuating the words that erupted from him. “You are fucked if you’re gonna blame this on that goddamned accident, and when I come back, once this city is fucked over, I’m taking your job by force.”

“And how will you remove me?” She asked, her eyes narrowing as she eyed the crack in the wall, one she would have to pay for. And yet she did not fire him.

Viscryn turned back to her only briefly. “You’ll be fucking dead.”

—

“You don’t have to accompany me,” Jasper said, sharpening his sword on the absurdly large stone he kept in his apartment. Viscryn wondered how Eldrin had ever agreed to an entire goddamned sharpening stone in the middle of the kitchen, though he supposed he probably just didn’t have the energy to give a shit. “I can do this alone.”

“That’s fuckin’ stupid,” Viscryn said. “You don’t know the Guardians that are there - or if they’re still alive. You need an ally.”

“Or a friend,” he said quietly, so much so that Viscryn thought he had imagined it. In the silence of the apartment, he remembered a time when they were teenagers, when they fought in the hallways and shouted vile things - or rather, Viscryn did all of it. He could not have imagined them now, willing to risk their lives for each other.

After a moment, Viscryn noticed the overwhelming quiet and how nearly every light was off in the apartment. “Is Eldrin not coming with you? I didn’t expect him to be willing to let you go alone, knowing it could be bad.”

Jasper paused, his face dropping a little. “He’s … he’s not been feeling himself, lately. I think it’s because of the cloud. I wish I could tell you more, but he’s locked himself in the guest bedroom.”

Viscryn thought of how weak a door could be compared to the fury of what he had seen Eldrin do as a serus, and fought back a shudder. He couldn’t smell sulfur in the air, but maybe it had already happened.

Maybe Eldrin was just waiting to come out. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jasper said with a dismissive wave of his hand, grabbing his bag. “The door’s locked with silver. He practically made it into a prison before I had moved in. I just - I just leave him dinner in the fridge and hope that he finds it. That he’s human enough to find it.”

“Kylantha will-“ Viscryn paused. She wouldn’t handle it. She hadn’t handled anything in months. Instead, he said, “He told me it’s been easier lately. Maybe he’s in control and he just doesn’t want you to see.” 

It felt like an obvious lie, but Jasper willingly or not believed it, smiling fondly at him. “Thanks, Viscryn.”

—

Cithrel and Astra surprised both of them upon arriving at the closest town to the cloud, and Viscryn felt a pit of dread when he spotted their blonde hair in the midst of the few Guardians left standing. They were at a campfire, curling around their knees in the first expression of fear that he had ever seen. 

Jasper exclaimed loudly in surprise, running to Astra and pulling her into an overwhelmingly tight hug, though it was not one that she disliked. “What are you doing here? It was hard enough convincing Kylantha to let just one of us go!”

“The safety of the people are more important than her,” Astra said, practically glowering at the mention of her. “I didn’t think it was smart to only have the short-ranges leave. And maybe Cithrel is sick of pretending to enjoy being a teacher.”

Cithrel snorted, passing her something roasted that looked… burnt. Everyone grimaced at it, but no one was brave enough to deny Cithrel’s gesture, and so Astra took it reluctantly. Viscryn sat down beside them once Jasper had distracted Astra, feeling nervous for the first time in years around them. 

They were friends. They had been since they were students, and reasonably, there was no need to be nervous. Hell, Cithrel had even accidentally seen his dick once. There was nothing left to hide, and yet- “You shouldn’t have come,” he blurted out. They merely raised a pierced brow at them. “I mean - fuck - this is worse than anything we’ve fought. And we don’t know what we’re fighting. You could get hurt.”

Cithrel shrugged. It was something the Guardians were well aware of, but Viscryn wanted to shake them for their reaction. Cithrel couldn’t die - not them, not ever. It was a recurring nightmare he had, imagining them falling lifelessly to the ground, attacked by that one serus they couldn’t hold off. At first, the nightmares were of Eldrin, but the closer he and Cithrel got, the more often the nightmares were just of anything. Anything that could take them from him.

“Will you at least be careful when we’re out there? If something gets me, I want you to leave if it means you survive.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Cithrel signed, looking as though they were tempted to beat him with the stick they had been holding. They looked a little confused at the gravity of his words, but they did not dare ask more. Perhaps both of them wanted to deny what their relationship could be. 

A singular laugh interrupted the peace of the crackling fire, hollow and melodic - a noble’s laugh. And then chaos broke loose when they realized it was coming from above. 

The Guardians left erupted into action when they realized that the stars had long since disappeared along with the moon, for the cloud had arrived - shrieking, shrill screams of demons with leathery wings that should have never existed. And in the front of it, a man. He floated along, engulfed in shadowy magic that seemed to flow from him, through him, as if it were merely a part of his essence. 

Astra gasped, staring up at his mess of black hair, his cruel smile that split his features maddeningly. He would have perhaps been pretty if he had not been the one controlling the cloud, and Viscryn thought a little guiltily that he almost resembled Eldrin - except somehow older, somehow ageless. They all knew the myth of the Shadowmaker, but no one had considered that it was true - as true as the Lightbringer. 

He was alive, somehow, and he was angry, unhinged, descending upon them so quickly that no one had time to act before soldiers were being devoured by seruses, ripped apart limb from limb without any mercy. Viscryn did not shudder, thinking back to his school days when Jasper had been injured before his very eyes. 

Jasper was frozen in place for a moment, looking on in horror before the agonizing screams of a soldier snapped him into action, and then he and Viscryn were rushing for the cloud aimlessly. They both were thinking of battle, of the short bursts of action that would determine life or death, but Viscryn was certain that only one of them were thinking of protecting someone only a few feet away - someone who was smart enough to already be ascending into a tree for cover. 

“How willingly you all run into the grave,” the man said, his words strangely warped around the syllables, almost as if he had been used to a different, older dialect. Jasper kept the seruses away from the mages, but Viscryn rushed for the source of the problem - straight towards the Shadowmaker.

He swung, though he only came into contact with wisps of shadow where the man had once been, laughter filling his ears as he reappeared with ease. Viscryn must have looked confused, for he said, “I am not surprised that the one who fights like an animal would have the intelligence of one. Did you truly expect to survive without a weapon at all?”

“Don’t fuckin’ need one,” Viscryn said, glaring as he ripped the jaw off of one of the seruses, its body crumbling into black dust, and then into nothingness. “One hit to the gut and your skinny ass would be on the ground.”

The man’s brow raised, studying him as if he were a specimen. Viscryn tried to keep fighting under the scrutiny of that gaze, though it unnerved him. “You are strong as a man. But I think you could be stronger.”

“What do you-?” Viscryn’s words choked into a painful sound as the man rushed for him, grabbing him by the throat with bony hands. He felt the searing cold of the magic hit him like a wave of ice, as if tearing him from the inside out without ever being cut. He thought he screamed, but he could barely hear anything over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. 

“Someone is afraid,” the Shadowmaker said, staring sharply into the trees behind Viscryn. “I can feel their anger and their pain all at once. A grief of sorts. Tell me, boy, is this someone you love, for them to feel so strongly?”

It was a cruel joke, for Viscryn opened his mouth but could not speak. Only blackened blood rolled out from his gums. He weakly tried to grab the man’s hand on his throat, only for his limbs to feel impossibly heavy.

“It is no matter of importance, then. I have always hated archers.” The Shadowmaker dropped him to the ground roughly. “If there is someone you love, I order you to kill them. After you have no one left, you will join us in our conquest.”

He tried to protest, feeling a different sort of magic begin to engulf his mind. There was nothing he could do, nothing to fight the way his eyes blurred. His last thought before he lost himself was of Eldrin, of how he could possibly win something like this.