Chapter 4
The chamber slowly brightened as the oppressive shadows dissolved into thin air, their haunting presence erased by the light of Solaria. The eerie silence that followed Tharos' defeat was deafening, broken only by the faint sound of something shifting, almost like… breathing?
Caelan, still clutching his sword, turned around, his heart pounding. "Uh… guys? Did you hear that?"
Zaimond, his eyes narrowing in concentration, spun his staff once more, dispelling the last remnants of Tharos' magic. "Yeah, I hear it. But... it doesn't feel hostile." He tilted his head. "It's like..."
Before he could finish, one of the shadow beasts—one they had thought disintegrated—began to shift. Its dark, twisted form shimmered, and before their eyes, the creature's grotesque limbs softened, melting away into something entirely different. Flesh and bone replaced shadow and darkness, and standing in its place was… a person. A human.
Caelan blinked in disbelief. "What the—?"
Elden, sword still in hand, stepped closer, his warrior instincts still on high alert. "Careful, Caelan."
But the figure before them wasn't attacking. In fact, it looked just as confused as they were. The man's eyes, wide with fear and disbelief, were sunken as if he hadn't seen daylight in years. He stumbled forward, his body trembling.
"I—I'm alive…" the man whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm… me again."
Caelan took a cautious step forward. "Hey, take it easy. You're safe now."
As if in response to his words, more shadow creatures began to transform. All around them, the twisted beasts that once filled the chamber were shedding their monstrous forms, becoming men, women, and children. Their eyes blinked against the sudden light, as if waking from a long nightmare.
Zaimond's eyes widened, realization dawning on him. "They were never just shadows. They were people. Tharos twisted them into those things… he enslaved them in darkness."
The enormity of it hit Caelan like a punch to the gut. "You mean… all these creatures we fought… they were humans?"
Zaimond nodded gravely. "Yeah. They were the last residents of this city. The fall of Solaria… it wasn't just a battle. It was a curse. Tharos didn't just take the city—he took its people. Turned them into his army of shadows."
The weight of Zaimond's words sank into Caelan's chest, his heart heavy with the thought of what these people had endured. Years—possibly decades—spent as mindless monsters, cut off from their humanity, trapped in darkness.
Elden looked out over the group of survivors now emerging from the shadows, each of them looking confused, scared, but also relieved. "We've done more than defeat Tharos," he said quietly. "We've freed them."
The realization struck all three of them simultaneously: This wasn't just some random battle. They had just saved the entire city—the first city—from the clutches of darkness. And not just the city, but the people. Caelan, for all his joking and recklessness, felt the weight of the responsibility pressing down on him.
But the moment wasn't purely somber. There was something else—something rising in Caelan's chest that he hadn't felt in a long time. Hope. Maybe this was what they were meant to do all along. Not just fight shadows, but bring back the light, piece by piece.
He turned to Zaimond, eyes bright with determination. "Looks like we've got our first win."
Zaimond grinned, twirling his staff. "Yeah, I guess we do. One city down… a few hundred more to go."
Suddenly, Zaimond's smile faltered. His gaze flickered toward the entrance of the chamber, his usually lighthearted expression darkening with concern. "Wait… do you feel that?"
Caelan's brow furrowed. "Feel what?"
Elden's hand instinctively gripped his sword. "Something's coming."
And then they heard it—a distant, rhythmic sound. Footsteps. Not just one set, but many. Dozens. Maybe even hundreds. The ground beneath them seemed to tremble as the noise grew louder, echoing through the corridors like the march of an army.
From the shadows, a group of figures emerged. But these weren't like the twisted creatures they had just fought. These were humans—alive, breathing, and walking with purpose.
Caelan tensed, readying his sword. "Friends or foes?"
Zaimond's eyes were wide, his mind racing. "I'm not sure… but they're not like the others."
The figures came closer, their faces becoming clearer in the light. They were men and women, clad in ragged clothes, many of them carrying makeshift weapons or tools. Their expressions were a mix of exhaustion and hope—like people who had been on the run for far too long but were finally seeing a glimmer of safety.
One man stepped forward, his grizzled beard and tired eyes betraying the years of hardship he'd endured. "We… we saw the light," he said, his voice hoarse. "We've been hiding, waiting for something—anything—since the darkness took everything. And then we saw it. The light… it led us here."
Caelan glanced at Zaimond, who was still scanning the newcomers with sharp eyes. "Looks like we've got company."
Zaimond's expression softened, and he let out a breath. "They're survivors. They're like the people we just freed. They've been holding on, waiting for a chance to fight back."
The man stepped closer, his eyes locking onto Caelan's. "You… you're the ones who did this, aren't you? The ones who brought the light?"
Caelan hesitated, unsure of what to say. It felt strange to take credit for something so monumental. But then he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. I guess we are."
The man's eyes filled with tears, and he dropped to one knee, followed by the others behind him. "Thank you… thank you for saving us. For giving us hope again."
Caelan's heart swelled, the weight of what they had just accomplished finally sinking in. This was bigger than him, bigger than all of them. This was what Seraphis had meant. This was the journey they were on—to bring the light back, one city at a time.
Elden, standing beside him, sheathed his sword. "This is just the beginning," he said quietly.
Caelan nodded. "Yeah… but it's a good start."
Zaimond, however, was still frowning, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "It's not over yet," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Caelan turned to him. "What's up, Zai? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Zaimond didn't answer right away. He seemed to be listening to something far away, something only he could hear. "There's more coming. We've freed one city, but the darkness is far from done. And… there's someone else out there. Someone powerful. I can feel it."
Caelan raised an eyebrow. "Powerful like Tharos?"
Zaimond shook his head slowly. "No. Worse. Much worse."
And just like that, the weight of their task came crashing back down on them. They had won the battle, but the war was far from over.
Caelan sighed, a grin spreading across his face despite the tension. "Well, guess we'll just have to kick their ass too."
Elden chuckled softly. "We'll be ready."
Zaimond finally smiled, though there was still a glint of worry in his eyes. "Yeah… we will. But we better be careful. The real monsters are still out there."
As they looked out over the newly freed city, its citizens slowly returning to their true forms, Caelan couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement. The journey ahead was going to be tough, no doubt. But with his friends by his side, and the light guiding their way, he knew they had a fighting chance.
To be continued…