Cyrus had barely settled back into the comforting, familiar atmosphere of the Tenebrae dormitories when a soft knock echoed at the door. He had expected more questions from Teef and Dale or perhaps another sudden visit from Layla or Siera. Instead, the one who stood at the threshold was one of the academy's messengers, their dark blue robes a sign of importance.
"Master Magnus requests your presence immediately in the East Wing," the messenger announced softly. "It's urgent."
Cyrus, still catching his breath from the orc attack and the swirl of thoughts and emotions from the last few hours, nodded silently. He grabbed his wand, ensuring it was concealed as usual, and followed the messenger. His heart beat steadily, but a familiar tension coiled within him as he wondered why Magnus had summoned him yet again. Was it related to the orc attack? Did Magnus suspect more?
The corridors of the East Wing were dimly lit, with only the faint glow of magical lanterns guiding their way. Paintings of past wizards and silent statues stood sentinel along the hallway, their presence both ominous and watchful. But Cyrus's focus remained ahead. When they finally reached a door, ancient and etched with runes of protection and secrecy, the messenger gestured toward it.
"Inside," they said before departing quickly, leaving Cyrus alone before the heavy wooden door.
With a deep breath, Cyrus pushed it open.
The room inside felt like a forgotten relic, its walls lined with bookshelves that stretched up toward the shadowed ceiling. The air was thick, laced with the faint scent of old parchment and burning incense. The runes etched into the wooden table glowed faintly, casting an eerie, flickering light that gave the room an otherworldly quality. Every surface seemed to hum with hidden power, as though the very walls held secrets long buried by time.
At the head of the table stood Magnus, his eyes resting on Cyrus with a calm, knowing expression.
"Welcome, Cyrus," Magnus said, gesturing for him to enter. "It's time for you to meet The Silent Light."
Cyrus's gaze flicked to each of the figures in the room. There were four of them, all watching him intently. As he stepped forward, he recognized one of them almost instantly—Finn.
"Finn?" Cyrus blinked, surprised to see him here. Finn, who just a day ago had looked shaken after their matches, now stood confidently in the dark room, his posture and aura completely different from the carefree demeanor he usually showed.
Finn gave a small smile, but there was something different in his expression—something more serious, more calculating. "I didn't expect you to find out this way," he said softly. "But I recommended you for this."
Cyrus stared at him for a moment, processing the information. "You… recommended me?"
"Finn has been part of The Silent Light for over a year now," Magnus explained. "His skills with shadow magic, his ability to blend in and observe, made him a natural fit. And when he saw your potential, he brought you to my attention."
Finn stepped forward, his face softening as he spoke to Cyrus directly. "You've always had a knack for hiding, for suppressing who you really are. I saw that in you the moment we met, Cyrus. You're perfect for this."
The others around the table shifted slightly, and Magnus gestured toward them. "These are the other members of The Silent Light," he continued. "Each of them possesses unique abilities and skills that make them invaluable in protecting this academy from the unseen threats."
One of the figures, a tall woman with sharp green eyes and long black hair tied into a tight braid, stepped forward. "Lynara," she introduced herself, her voice smooth and composed. "I specialize in elemental illusion magic—specifically, the manipulation of perception and light." Her eyes gleamed as she regarded Cyrus. "You may find that what you see isn't always what's real."
Next to her, a stocky, broad-shouldered man with graying hair nodded. "Jarek," he said. His voice was gruff but not unkind. "I'm an expert in defensive wards and magical traps. If you need something fortified or… removed, I'm your guy."
Finally, the last figure, a slender young man with a shroud of mist around his feet, stepped forward. His eyes were a pale silver, almost ghostly. "Elias," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "I deal with spirits, the lost souls that roam between worlds."
Cyrus absorbed the introductions, his mind whirling as he took in the varied talents of each member. The Silent Light wasn't just a group of powerful wizards—it was a secretive, elite force, dedicated to uncovering the dark, hidden threats that most of the academy never even knew existed.
Magnus's voice broke the silence. "The orc attack was no random occurrence," he said gravely. "We've been tracking strange disturbances for weeks—unusual magical signatures, creatures appearing where they shouldn't, dark forces stirring in the deepest parts of the academy's dungeons. And now, with the appearance of the orcs, we know something far more dangerous is brewing."
He turned his gaze to Cyrus. "You've already encountered these threats firsthand. And from what I've observed… I believe you are key to uncovering what lies behind them."
Cyrus remained silent, the weight of Magnus's words sinking in. He had suspected for some time that there were darker forces at play, but hearing it from Magnus only confirmed his fears.
"We need your help, Cyrus," Finn said, stepping closer. "The Silent Light operates in the shadows, investigating and eliminating threats before they become too dangerous. We don't work in the public eye, and most students and staff don't even know we exist. But we've been watching, waiting, and preparing."
Lynara's voice cut in, sharp and pointed. "Your abilities make you a perfect candidate. And from what Finn has told us… you may be exactly what we need."
Jarek nodded. "You're strong. Stronger than you let on. We've seen that."
Cyrus hesitated, his mind racing. Joining The Silent Light meant stepping deeper into the secrets of the academy—into the very heart of the mysteries he had been trying to unravel since arriving. But it also meant stepping into Magnus's inner circle, a place filled with hidden agendas and ancient power struggles. Could he trust Magnus? There was a part of him that wondered if he was being drawn into something far more dangerous than even the Crow's End. Was Magnus testing him, or worse—manipulating him? The thought unsettled him.
Finn's presence only added to his unease. Cyrus could still feel Finn's eyes on him, calculating, watching his every move. Could he truly trust any of them? They spoke of hidden threats, but it felt as if the real danger lay right here, in this very room.
"I'll do it," Cyrus finally said, his voice steady but his mind still awash with doubt. "I'll join."
Magnus smiled, though there was something behind that smile—something too calm, too assured. It was as if Magnus already knew what Cyrus's answer would be. "Good," Magnus said, his voice smooth, "Then let's begin."
As the words hung in the air, Cyrus couldn't shake the feeling that he was being pulled into a game he didn't fully understand. One where the stakes were far higher than he had imagined.
Magnus's smile faded as the gravity of the situation settled into the room. The other members of The Silent Light grew quiet, their attention now fully focused on the wizard. His fingers traced the edge of the scroll on his desk as he spoke, his voice calm but laced with an undeniable tension.
"The orc attack we witnessed during the tournament," he began, his eyes narrowing as he recalled the events, "is no mere random occurrence. There are forces in the dark at play, and I believe we've only seen the beginning."
Magnus paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "Orcs, by their very nature, do not simply appear at a place like Ebonspire. They are summoned, controlled by ancient and dark magic that has long been forbidden. To summon orcs, one would need knowledge of the darkest of arcane practices—magic that is not just forbidden but nearly lost to time. Very few individuals or groups are capable of such a thing."
Cyrus's mind raced as Magnus spoke. The orc leader had specifically mentioned him, the boy with fire and lightning. But what dark magic could be powerful enough to summon such creatures? Cyrus thought back to the orc's glowing red eyes and the strange symbols that had adorned its armor.
Magnus continued, "I know that Crow's End and Monarch Abyss are both shadow guilds that many suspect to be involved in the darker sides of magic. But even they—despite their histories—are not responsible for what happened. In fact…" Magnus paused, his gaze intense, "neither of those guilds would dare meddle with the orcs. Not anymore."
Cyrus raised an eyebrow at that. He had been trained within the shadowy halls of Crow's End, learning the delicate balance between darkness and control. Orcs were never mentioned, not once in his time with them. But there were always whispers. Rumors of a time when the guilds' power was unchecked, when they played with magics that even the most skilled wizards feared.
Magnus met Cyrus's gaze, as though sensing his thoughts. "You see, long ago, Crow's End and Monarch Abyss were not two separate entities. They were one, a singular guild that operated in the shadows. Their knowledge of dark and light magic was unparalleled, and their influence spread across many lands. But power corrupts, as it always does."
Magnus's voice dropped lower, taking on a more ominous tone. "The Rift Wars, they called it. An ancient conflict born out of ambition and greed. The guild sought to control magics that were forbidden even by the oldest laws of the arcane. They tampered with powers beyond their comprehension, trying to summon and bind creatures from realms that should never have been disturbed."
Cyrus felt a chill creep down his spine. The Rift Wars. It was a term he had only heard in fragments, mentioned in passing by his masters at Crow's End, as if even the memory of that conflict was too dangerous to invoke.
"And when the Rift was torn open," Magnus continued, his eyes gleaming with something Cyrus couldn't quite place—fear or perhaps a warning, "the guild itself was nearly consumed. Orcs, demons, and worse spilled through, their very essence corrupting those who had summoned them. It was chaos. Blood. Destruction on a scale we can scarcely imagine today."
Finn shifted slightly beside him, the tension in the room thickening as Magnus's words echoed. "The guild splintered under the weight of their own hubris, dividing into Crow's End and Monarch Abyss. But neither side could control what they had unleashed. The creatures that had come through the Rift were bound to no one. They were...free. And that is why no one has dared to invoke that power since. The orcs are not merely a weapon. They are a reminder of that time—of the terrible price of arrogance."
Cyrus's heart pounded as he absorbed the weight of this revelation. The Rift Wars. A forgotten battle for power that had nearly consumed the world—and now, after all these years, someone was playing with that same fire.
"Whoever summoned the orcs now," Magnus said, his voice grave, "they are meddling with forces tied to that dark past. If they succeed, we may face more than just an attack. We may see the return of something far worse—something even the Silent Light may not be able to stop."
Magnus leaned forward slightly, his expression grave. "But despite their differences, one thing has remained constant—neither guild has ever dabbled in orc magic. It is considered too dangerous, even for them."
Cyrus felt a flicker of relief at that. Crow's End wasn't involved. That much was clear. But if not them… then who?
"The orc attack means that there's someone—or something—out there that has access to ancient, forbidden magic. Magic powerful enough to summon these creatures and control them." Magnus's fingers drummed against the table. "We must find out who is responsible for this before they strike again."
Lynara, the illusionist, spoke up, her voice soft but firm. "Do you think it's an outside force? Someone from beyond the academy's reach?"
Magnus's eyes flickered with uncertainty. "I can't be sure. But what I do know is that this attack was targeted. It wasn't a random act of violence. They came for a reason."
He looked at Cyrus once more, his gaze heavy with meaning. "And they came for you, Cyrus."
Cyrus clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of the moment. He had known for some time that there were forces after him, but to hear Magnus say it outright only solidified his fears. The orcs were no accident. Someone wanted him.
"Why me?" Cyrus asked, his voice steady, but inside, his mind was racing. "Why would they come for me?"
Magnus regarded him carefully. "You possess abilities that are… rare. Fire, lightning, and shadow. Such a combination is not something the world has seen often. There are those who seek to control such power. Or to destroy it."
The room fell into a tense silence, everyone processing the weight of Magnus's words. Finn's face was unreadable, but Cyrus could feel his presence beside him, like a shadow watching and waiting.
"But there's more to this than just raw power," Magnus continued. "I believe the attack on Ebonspire is part of a much larger scheme. Something is brewing in the shadows, something dangerous. And whoever is behind it may have ties to ancient forces long forgotten."
Jarek, the defensive expert, grunted. "You're saying someone's out there playing with old, forbidden magic—magic that even the most reckless of us wouldn't touch?"
Magnus nodded grimly. "Exactly. And that is why we need to act quickly. The Silent Light's mission is clear: we must uncover the source of this threat, and we must do so without drawing unnecessary attention."
Lynara exchanged glances with Elias, the spirit-talker. "And where do we start?" she asked. "If neither Crow's End nor Monarch Abyss is involved, then who could possibly have this kind of knowledge?"
"That," Magnus said quietly, "is what we must find out."
"You've been blessed by the shadows, the flame goddess and lightening lords of the skies Cyrus. Your abilities puts you in the forefront of this battle. You are the perfect candidate to help us in this investigation."
Cyrus nodded slowly, the weight of the mission settling on his shoulders, but the words hung in his mind. Perfect candidate. He had always been told that power was his burden to bear, something to wield carefully and hide. But now, standing here in the shadows, there was a flicker of something else—a pull to use his strength openly, to let go of the restraint he had been taught. It was both intoxicating and terrifying.
Magnus straightened, his voice firm. "We will need to investigate the origins of the orcs' summoning and determine who holds the knowledge of this ancient magic. Our search begins now."
The members of The Silent Light exchanged looks, their determination palpable. The task ahead was dangerous, but they all knew the stakes. Whoever had summoned the orcs was powerful, and if they weren't stopped, Ebonspire—and the world—could face a threat unlike any they had seen before.
The room was filled with a tense, palpable energy as the members of The Silent Light stood quietly, processing the gravity of their mission. The air itself seemed thick with anticipation, each of them knowing that whatever dark forces were stirring would require everything they had. Cyrus could feel the weight of the coming storm in the pit of his stomach, the same sense of unease that had been following him since the orc attack.
Just as Magnus opened his mouth to continue, the heavy wooden door at the back of the room creaked open. All eyes turned toward the figure that stepped inside, their entrance shrouded in shadow. A hooded cloak concealed their face, but there was something about the way they moved—graceful, confident—that felt familiar.
Cyrus's heart skipped a beat, his crimson eyes narrowing. He recognized that presence—he'd felt it during countless interactions with Siera—but now, it took on a new, unsettling light. He had always known there was more to her than met the eye, but seeing her here, among The Silent Light, made him question every word they had exchanged before. Had she been hiding this all along? Was she more dangerous than he had realized?
"Well, I guess the party's already started," Siera said with a teasing tone, her voice smooth and unbothered by the heavy atmosphere in the room. She glanced around at the group of seasoned wizards before turning her gaze to Magnus, her expression playful but respectful. "Hope I'm not too late."
Cyrus's mind raced. Siera? He hadn't expected her to be involved in something like this, though the pieces started to fall into place. Her mysterious nature, her prowess in combat, and the way she always seemed to be one step ahead… it all made sense now. She wasn't just another student—she was a member of The Silent Light. But why hadn't she mentioned it before?
Magnus smiled at her, though the tension in the room remained. "Right on time, Siera," he said calmly, as if he had been expecting her all along. "I trust your mission has yielded some results?"
Siera's smirk faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "Not as much as I'd hoped," she admitted, crossing her arms as she took her place among the group. "I've been digging around in the dungeons for weeks, trying to find any trace of who might have set up that enchantment that empowered the ogre. But so far, I've found nothing. No magical residue, no sigils… it's as if whoever did it wiped their tracks clean."
Cyrus's eyes flickered with recognition. The emblem from the Monarch Abyss—the one he had found after his encounter with the three-headed beast. Could that have something to do with it? He hadn't shared the discovery with anyone, not yet. He wasn't sure if revealing it now would help or make things more complicated. For the time being, he kept the emblem in the back of his mind, choosing to remain silent and listen to Siera's report.
"No evidence at all?" Lynara, the illusionist, asked, frowning. "That's unusual. Even with skilled magic, some residue should have been left behind."
Siera nodded, frustration evident in her voice. "That's what I thought. I've been over every inch of the area where the ogre was empowered, but it's like someone scrubbed it clean. There was one thing, though…"
Her eyes flicked toward Cyrus for a split second, and he felt the weight of her gaze as if she knew something about what he had found. But she didn't say anything.
Magnus tilted his head slightly, his gaze curious. "Go on."
Siera's brow furrowed. "It wasn't much, but I could sense… a faint presence. Something dark, something old. But it was so faint that I couldn't trace it. Whoever did this, they're not just powerful—they're careful. They don't want to be found."
Magnus considered her words, his expression thoughtful. "That aligns with what we've suspected. Whoever is responsible for this attack, they are skilled in manipulating ancient and forbidden magics. The fact that they've covered their tracks so well suggests that this is only the beginning."
The room fell into silence once more, everyone processing the implications of Siera's report. Cyrus kept his eyes on her, wondering if she had sensed more than she was letting on. She was always hard to read, her carefree attitude masking whatever deeper thoughts she kept hidden. But there was no denying her skill—or her importance in this mission.
Magnus broke the silence, his voice steady but filled with urgency. "We must act quickly. If the orc attack was only the first strike, we cannot allow whoever is behind this to continue operating in the shadows."
He turned his attention to Cyrus, his gaze intense. "Cyrus, your role in this mission will be crucial. You have a unique connection to both fire and lightning, and we may need that power before this is over. I trust you understand the stakes."
Cyrus nodded, though his mind was still racing with thoughts of the emblem he had found. He knew there was more to this than Magnus was revealing, more than Siera was saying. But for now, he would play along—he had to. The threat looming over Ebonspire was too great to ignore.
As the meeting continued, Cyrus found himself thinking back to the cryptic words of the three-headed beast in the dungeon, the mysterious connection between Crow's End and Monarch Abyss, and now this new revelation about the orc attack. It all felt like pieces of a puzzle, one that he was slowly beginning to understand.
But one thing was clear: the shadows were moving, and soon, there would be no hiding from the darkness.