As the group stepped through the towering gates of the academy, the lively hum of the city market faded behind them, replaced by the familiar stillness of Ebonspire's stone walls. The cool night air wrapped around them, a welcome reprieve from the chaotic energy they had just left behind. The weight of the strange encounter with the monstrous creature and the discovery of the coin still hung heavily in the air.
Cyrus glanced at Siera as they walked toward the center of the courtyard. She met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. They both knew what needed to be done next.
"We're going to see Magnus," Cyrus said, his voice cutting through the quiet, drawing the attention of Layla, Teef, Thalon, and Dale. "He needs to see this coin. It's too important to wait."
The group exchanged puzzled glances. Layla, still shaken from the market encounter, took a step forward. "Why just the two of you? Shouldn't we all go? This thing nearly tore apart the marketplace, and whatever's happening, it feels... big."
Siera spoke up before Cyrus could answer, her tone calm but firm. "We'll take care of it, Layla. Magnus needs to see this, and the fewer people involved right now, the better." She shot a quick look at Cyrus, her expression unreadable to the others. "Trust us."
There was a subtle tension in her voice, but it was enough to reassure Cyrus. Both of them had roles within The Silent Light, an elite group within the academy tasked with handling dangerous and secretive matters, but their involvement was something they couldn't reveal—not yet, and certainly not to the others.
Layla's eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion creeping into her expression. "You two seem awfully sure of what Magnus needs. What's going on?"
Cyrus met her gaze, trying to stay steady. "There's more to this than we understand right now. Magnus might be the only one who can help us make sense of it. We need to move quickly, and it's better if only a few of us go. You and the others should head back to your quarters."
Siera nodded in agreement, her eyes scanning the group briefly before landing back on Layla. "The academy's safe, and this coin—it might not be. We don't want to draw unnecessary attention."
Layla hesitated, her suspicion evident. She looked between Cyrus and Siera, searching their faces for answers she couldn't quite find. "Alright," she finally said, though her voice carried a hint of reluctance. "But be careful. If something's going on, we should all know about it."
Cyrus nodded, grateful that Layla wasn't pressing the issue further. "We will. Just trust us on this."
Layla stepped back, motioning for the others to follow her. As she turned, she cast one more glance at Cyrus and Siera, the uncertainty lingering in her eyes. But she said nothing more, and with a nod to Thalon, Teef, and Dale, she led them toward the dormitories.
As they approached the winding corridors that led back to the dormitories, Layla's thoughts remained restless, replaying the events at the market over and over. The way Cyrus had handled that creature... the blue flames. It was all so overwhelming, but something about Cyrus and Siera walking off together felt... off. She wasn't sure if it was the intensity of the situation, or something else entirely.
Thalon broke the silence first, his voice cutting through her thoughts. "So, Layla, what really happened back there with that creature? You didn't tell us much."
Teef, ever curious, chimed in. "Yeah, what was all that about? We saw people running like they'd seen a ghost."
Layla sighed, casting a quick glance over at Dale, who had been walking quietly beside her, his eyes filled with concern. She hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "It all happened so fast. That man... he wasn't just raving. He turned into something else—something monstrous. But before it could hurt anyone, Cyrus stopped it. He... I've never seen fire like that before. Blue flames, hotter than anything I've ever felt."
Teef's eyes widened, his playful tone replaced with genuine curiosity. "Blue flames? That's... not normal, right?"
Layla shook her head. "No. And Cyrus—he didn't even seem surprised. Like he knew it would happen."
Dale, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke, his voice soft but tinged with worry. "Are you sure you're alright, Layla? You didn't get hurt, did you?"
She turned to him, offering a small smile. "No, I'm fine. Cyrus was there. He didn't let anything happen to me." Her words were reassuring, but the tension in her chest remained. She hadn't been the one in danger—Cyrus had. And whatever power he had tapped into, it seemed dangerous, even to him.
Dale's brow furrowed, his concern deepening. "I just... I wish I'd been with him instead of you. You shouldn't have been put in danger like that."
Layla stopped, turning to face Dale fully. "It's not like that. I wasn't in danger because Cyrus made sure I wasn't. He had control. Whatever that thing was, he stopped it before it could hurt anyone."
Dale looked down, his jaw clenching slightly. "Still... I hate the thought of you being out there, facing something like that."
Layla's expression softened, touched by his concern. "I know, Dale. But we're all in this together. And Cyrus... he can handle more than we realize." She paused, the memory of the blue flames still vivid in her mind. "There's something happening with him, though. Something we don't fully understand yet."
Thalon, who had been listening quietly, nodded. "Whatever it is, it's beyond just normal magic. And it's tied to that coin somehow. We need to stay sharp."
Teef, his usual carefree demeanor returning slightly, grinned. "Well, at least we've got a front-row seat to whatever madness is about to unfold. But seriously, we should keep an eye on Cyrus—and Siera. This is only going to get more complicated."
Layla nodded, her thoughts still lingering on the strange bond forming between Cyrus and Siera. She trusted Cyrus—she had to. But something told her this was just the beginning of a far darker path, one that none of them were fully prepared for.
"Let's head back," she said finally, pushing her unease aside for now. "We'll talk to them when they return. Maybe we'll get some answers then."
With a shared glance, the group continued toward the dormitories, their steps filled with a quiet tension that mirrored the uncertainty of the night ahead.
As Cyrus and Siera made their way through the winding corridors of the academy, the flickering light from the sconces cast long shadows across the stone walls. The quiet of the night was broken only by the soft echo of their footsteps. The weight of the coin in Cyrus's pocket felt heavier with each step, and his thoughts raced with the events that had transpired at the market. But it wasn't just the coin that troubled him—it was the blue flames, the raw power that had surged through him.
Siera walked beside him, her movements fluid and graceful, as if she were gliding through the darkness rather than walking. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her lips curving into a subtle, knowing smile. "So," she said, her voice smooth and low, "are you going to tell me what really happened back there, or are you planning on keeping it all to yourself?"
Cyrus kept his gaze forward, his jaw tightening. "I already told you. There was a man… or at least something that used to be a man. It transformed into a monster. We fought it, and I destroyed it."
Siera chuckled softly, the sound almost like a purr, sending a ripple of tension through the air between them. "Mmm, yes. That's what you said. But you're leaving out the interesting part, aren't you?"
Cyrus frowned, not turning to face her. "What are you talking about?"
She moved a little closer, her shoulder brushing his, the warmth of her presence almost distracting. "You know exactly what I mean, Cyrus. The air was thick back there, heavy... and hot." Her voice dipped slightly, her tone almost teasing. "Too hot for ordinary flames, wouldn't you say?"
Cyrus's heart skipped a beat, his fingers curling slightly at his sides. She couldn't know. He hadn't told anyone about the blue flames—not Layla, not Dale, and certainly not Siera. But the way she spoke, the way her words danced around the truth, it was as if she had been there, watching him, even when she wasn't.
"I don't know what you're implying," he said carefully, trying to keep his voice steady.
Siera let out a soft laugh, a sound that was both amused and... something else. Something dangerous. "Cyrus," she said, her voice a whisper now, "you forget—I notice things. And I'm not the type to be fooled easily. You may hide behind your lightning, but there's more to you, isn't there? Something deeper. Something... hotter."
She stopped walking, her silver eyes locking onto his with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. There was no denying the undercurrent in her words—flirtatious, yes, but also sharp, like she was peeling away the layers of his defenses, one by one.
Cyrus turned to face her, his expression hard. "I did what I had to do. That's all you need to know."
Siera's smile widened, her lips curving into something almost predatory. "For now," she said, stepping closer, her voice a low murmur, "but secrets have a way of burning through the walls we build, don't they? Just like those flames of yours."
For a brief moment, her gaze lingered on him, filled with both curiosity and something darker, something that hinted at a game she was playing—a game he hadn't realized he was a part of.
Before he could respond, they reached Magnus's chambers. The large oak doors loomed ahead, etched with runes of protection and secrecy. Cyrus inhaled deeply, steeling himself for what came next.
Siera turned away, her usual calm and cool demeanor slipping back into place as if the moment between them had never happened. She glanced at the doors and then back at him, her smile now more reserved, but her eyes still gleaming with the knowledge she carried.
"Well," she said lightly, "let's see what Magnus makes of all this, shall we?"
Cyrus nodded, but the tension from their conversation still hummed in the back of his mind. He knew Siera was playing a dangerous game, and whether she was friend or foe, he couldn't afford to let his guard down around her—not for a second.
As Cyrus and Siera entered Magnus's chambers, the atmosphere was thick with an unspoken tension. The room, dimly lit by flickering torches, was lined with ancient books and relics of forgotten times. Magnus Solis sat behind his desk, his eyes already fixed on them as if he had sensed the gravity of their visit. Thaddeous stood nearby, his arms crossed, watching with his ever-cautious gaze. Though not a member of the Silent Light, Thaddeous's connections to the academy's shadowy affairs ran deep, and his presence here was not surprising.
Cyrus and Siera approached the desk, and Siera, with her usual cool demeanor, gestured for Cyrus to present the object they'd found. Taking a deep breath, Cyrus reached into his pocket and pulled out the ancient coin. It glinted faintly under the torchlight, the intricate runes and spiraling symbol at its center seeming to shimmer with a strange, otherworldly energy.
Magnus leaned forward slowly, his eyes narrowing to slits as he examined the coin, the room seeming to darken as the weight of recognition fell upon him. Thaddeous, usually a pillar of composure, visibly tensed the moment the coin came into view. His breath caught in his throat, and for a brief moment, the confident professor looked as though he'd seen a ghost.
"Where did you...?" Magnus's voice faltered, but he quickly steadied himself, though his eyes remained fixed on the object in Cyrus's hand. The tension was thick enough to cut, and for the first time, Cyrus saw real unease flash across the older wizard's face.
"In the marketplace," Cyrus managed, his voice uneasy as he handed over the coin. "After... an attack."
Magnus's fingers hovered over the coin, as though hesitant to touch it. Thaddeous took a step back, his brow furrowed, fear seeping into the lines of his face. "That symbol... it can't be..." he stammered, his voice shaking, the words slipping out before he could contain them. He exchanged a quick, sharp glance with Magnus, who remained frozen, his composure unraveling.
Magnus finally forced himself to grip the coin. His fingers trembled for a split second before tightening around the ancient metal. He whispered something—low, barely audible, as if saying the words aloud might summon something darker.
Then, without warning, the coin ignited in purple flames.
The temperature in the room plummeted, but the fire's heat was searing, unnatural. Siera instinctively flinched, her calm demeanor cracking as she and Cyrus stepped back in unison. The shadows in the room writhed as the purple flames flickered, casting eerie, grotesque shapes across the walls.
Thaddeous recoiled, his face pale, beads of sweat forming on his brow. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came—just a shuddering breath, as though he couldn't bring himself to voice the fear clawing at his chest. He stumbled back further, his hand gripping the edge of a nearby chair for support. "Magnus..." he whispered, barely audible. "It's... it's him, isn't it?"
Magnus, for his part, struggled to keep his composure. His usually steady hands shook as the flames consumed the coin, his jaw clenched tight. "It is what I feared," he muttered, though the words seemed directed more to himself than to anyone else. His face twisted with grim realization as the coin crumbled to ash in his palm, the purple flames extinguishing in an instant, leaving only a fine, dark dust.
"What's going on?" Cyrus demanded, his voice cutting through the thick silence. His heart raced—he had never seen Magnus, the unwavering leader of Ebonspire, shaken like this.
Magnus didn't immediately respond. His fingers curled around the ashes, his expression hollow as he finally lifted his gaze to meet Cyrus's eyes. Thaddeous, still frozen in place, looked like he wanted to bolt from the room.
Magnus swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke again. "It's worse than we imagined."
The ripple of fear that had overtaken the two older wizards seemed to settle over Cyrus and Siera as well. Whatever the coin symbolized, it was something far darker than either of them had anticipated.
Magnus didn't immediately respond. He stared at the coin, watching as the purple flames consumed it, the metal crumbling into ashes in his palm. His fingers closed around the remnants, and the coin was gone, leaving behind nothing but dark dust. Slowly, Magnus sat down, as if the weight of what he had just witnessed was too much to bear.
Siera, her usual confidence somewhat shaken, asked quietly, "Magnus, what did we just see?"
Magnus exhaled slowly, his gaze heavy as he looked up at them. "That coin... it bore the emblem of Grevious Darkstar."
Cyrus felt his heart skip a beat at the name, though he kept his face still, trying to mask his surprise. Grevious Darkstar. He had never heard the name before, but the way Magnus spoke of him... there was a palpable fear in his voice.
"Grevious Darkstar was one of the most dangerous wizards of the ancient world," Magnus continued, his voice low and steady. "He sought to rid the world of magic, believing that it was a curse that would destroy us all. His plan was to cast the world into darkness, an endless void where no magic could survive, and he nearly succeeded."
Magnus paused, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the desk, as though weighing the gravity of the words he was about to speak.
"He was stopped," Magnus said, his voice tinged with both reverence and sorrow. "By a coalition of the most powerful wizards of the time. But it wasn't enough to defeat him. He was too powerful. Instead, they imprisoned him in a magical prison—sealed with chains that could only be bound by a willing sacrifice."
Siera leaned in, her voice almost a whisper. "A sacrifice?"
Magnus nodded, his tone grave. "Leon Nightshade. One of the greatest wizards of that era, and one of the leaders of the coalition. He gave his life—his very soul—to bind the chains that locked Grevious away for eternity."
The name hit Cyrus like a bolt of lightning. Nightshade. He had heard his last name spoken many times before, but only as a formality, never with meaning attached to it. A chill crawled up his spine, his breath catching in his throat. His last name—Nightshade—was tied to someone so powerful, so legendary, yet he had no idea what it meant, no connection to it that he knew of.
Cyrus had never been told about his heritage, not by the Crow's End, who had taken him as a baby. They'd never spoken of his family, his lineage, or where he had come from. The name "Nightshade" had always just been a name, something that belonged to him but held no real significance in his mind. Until now.
His heart raced, his thoughts spiraling. Could Leon Nightshade be a relative? An ancestor? Was there something more to his bloodline that the Crow's End had kept hidden from him all this time? The revelation sent a surge of confusion and unease through him, but he struggled to keep his face composed, even as his mind whirled with questions.
Siera stood beside him, her focus still on Magnus, oblivious to the storm brewing inside Cyrus. He forced himself to stay calm, though the weight of the unknown pressed on his chest like a vice. His past, something he had never given much thought to, was now staring him in the face, wrapped in mystery and power far beyond anything he had imagined.
"Nightshade?" Cyrus's voice was quieter than he intended, but steady enough. He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the rising tide of emotion. "What... what happened to him?"
Magnus's gaze softened slightly as he explained. "Leon Nightshade sacrificed everything—his power, his life, his soul—to ensure that Grevious could never escape. His sacrifice bound the chains that hold Grevious in his prison. Without him, the world as we know it would have been consumed by darkness."
Cyrus's pulse quickened, his thoughts racing even faster now. What did this mean for him? If his last name was tied to Leon Nightshade, did that mean he was part of this ancient legacy? Was there a reason he had been taken by the Crow's End and trained the way he had? His fists clenched as he struggled to piece together fragments of a story he'd never known existed. There was so much hidden from him, and it was starting to feel like his entire life had been a part of something bigger—something far more dangerous than he could have imagined.
The silence that followed Magnus's words was heavy, but Cyrus couldn't bring himself to speak. His mind churned with unanswered questions. Why had no one ever told him about his heritage? Had the Crow's End known all along? And if they had, what else were they hiding?
Siera, still watching Magnus, hadn't noticed Cyrus's internal struggle. But as Magnus's explanation sank in, the mystery of Cyrus's lineage deepened, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed walls of his life. He had never known his family, never questioned his past—until now. The weight of the Nightshade name felt different, heavier, more dangerous.
Whatever the truth was, Cyrus knew one thing: his life, his very identity, had just become far more complicated.
"But this coin," Magnus said, his voice dark and foreboding, "bears the emblem of Grevious's cult. A group of fanatics who believed in his vision of a world without magic, a world ruled by darkness. They were thought to be wiped out after his imprisonment, but this..."
Magnus gestured to the ashes that remained of the coin. "This tells me that they may have survived. Worse, it tells me that someone is trying to release Grevious from his prison."
Thaddeous stepped forward, his face still pale from the shock of the flames. "Grevious was one of the only wizards capable of using the forbidden dark magics. If his followers are trying to break the seal, they could be responsible for the orc attacks, and who knows what other horrors they might unleash."
Cyrus clenched his fists, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The connection to the Nightshade name gnawed at him, but now was not the time to dwell on it. "But Grevious was sealed, wasn't he? How could they break the chains?"
Magnus shook his head, his voice grim. "The chains are ancient and powerful, but nothing lasts forever. Over time, even the strongest seals can weaken, especially with the right... persuasion. If Grevious's cult has found a way to weaken the seal, they could be preparing to free him—and if that happens, the world as we know it will be at risk."
Siera folded her arms, her face unreadable. "So what do we do?"
Magnus looked at her, then at Cyrus, his eyes full of the weight of his decision. "We investigate. Quietly. We cannot risk causing a panic. The Silent Light will need to act swiftly, and you two will be at the center of this mission."
Cyrus nodded, his mind racing. The blue flames, the strange transformation of the man in the market, and now this—Grevious Darkstar and his ancient cult. Everything was converging, and it was clear that the danger was far greater than any of them had realized.
As Magnus dismissed them, Cyrus couldn't shake the name Leon Nightshade from his mind. Was it just a coincidence? Or was there a deeper connection between him and this ancient history, a connection that had been hidden for far too long?
As they left Magnus's chambers, Siera glanced at Cyrus, her eyes sharp with curiosity. "You seemed pretty quiet back there. Something on your mind?"
Cyrus shook his head, though inside, his thoughts churned. "Just... taking it all in."
Siera smirked, but there was something knowing in her eyes. "Well, whatever it is, you'd better figure it out fast. Something tells me we're just getting started."
Cyrus said nothing, his mind still racing as they walked down the dimly lit hall. He wasn't just dealing with an ancient evil now. He was dealing with secrets—secrets that might be far closer to him than he had ever imagined.