The training session left Sam's muscles aching and mind racing. He sat on the stone steps outside the sanctuary, watching the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon. The city's lights flickered to life in the distance, their glow distorted by the soft mist rolling in. The cool air wrapped around him, a sharp contrast to the heat that still radiated from his skin after hours of combat practice.
His hand hovered over the sword, now resting beside him, its blade reflecting the faint light. Each swing during the session replayed in his mind, moments when he could almost feel time itself bending under his will. The potential it held thrilled him, but the weight of it pressed just as heavily on his conscience.
"Deep in thought?" Elias's voice broke through the silence, pulling Sam back to the present. He turned to see the older man standing a few steps away, arms crossed and eyes keen as always.
"I didn't hear you come up," Sam said, shifting to make space for Elias on the step.
"That's the point," Elias replied with a smirk before sitting down. His gaze moved to the sword, and a shadow passed over his expression. "You're pushing yourself harder than before."
Sam nodded, fingers brushing the hilt. "I have to. If I don't, I won't be ready for what's coming."
Elias studied him for a moment, the silence between them growing heavy. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "When I first found you, I didn't think you'd be at this point so soon. Your past life carried burdens that nearly shattered you, and I feared they might again."
Sam felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. The shadows of memories he couldn't quite reach stirred at the edges of his mind. "You've never told me about my past life," he said, more accusation in his voice than he intended. "Not in any real detail."
Elias exhaled slowly, the weight of years showing in his eyes. "Because the past can consume you if you let it. And what you're trying to do now requires your full focus. But you're right—it's time you knew more."
The older man reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small, tattered journal bound with fraying leather. He handed it to Sam, who took it with cautious hands. The journal was worn, its pages yellowed and fragile, the cover marked with a sigil he didn't recognize but felt oddly familiar.
"This belonged to you," Elias said. "The person you were before you became… this version of yourself. Inside, you might find fragments of who you were, what you stood for, and why so many forces are converging on you now."
Sam's heart hammered in his chest as he opened the journal to the first page. The handwriting was angular, hurried, each stroke filled with urgency. The words were blurred in places, water stains smudging the ink, as if tears had once marred the page.
"To preserve time is to fight against fate itself. Only the strongest can wield it without being broken."
The phrase echoed in Sam's mind, resonating with a power that made his breath catch. He flipped further through the journal, eyes skimming over sketches of complex sigils, notes on the flow of temporal energy, and cryptic observations.
Before he could read further, the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted him. Mara appeared at the base of the steps, eyes wide and face flushed.
"Sam, Elder wants to see you," she said, glancing between him and Elias. "It's urgent."
---
The Elder's study was dimly lit when Sam entered, Mara and Elias at his heels. The old man stood by the window, silhouetted against the moon's glow. He turned, his expression unreadable but stern.
"We have received a message," the Elder said, holding up a piece of parchment sealed with dark red wax. The symbol on the seal was one Sam had seen in the journal—an intricate loop that seemed to twist in on itself infinitely.
"It's from the Concord of Shadows," the Elder continued, breaking the seal with a flick of his wrist. "A group known for wielding time's darkest secrets, and they've taken notice of you."
The words sent a shiver down Sam's spine. The Concord of Shadows. Elias's stories had mentioned them in hushed tones, a faction said to manipulate the threads of fate for their own gain, unbound by any moral code.
The Elder read the letter aloud, the words as sharp as blades:
"The balance tilts, and in the hands of one who wields time's edge lies our future. Join us, or face the eclipse of all you hold dear."
Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. Sam met the Elder's eyes, determination flaring within him. "What do they want?"
"To test you, to sway you," Elias said, stepping closer. "They'll either try to control you or break you."
Mara placed a hand on Sam's arm, her touch grounding him. "Then we can't let them get that chance. We need to make the first move."
The Elder nodded, the lines on his face deepening. "Sam, you must master not just your sword, but the deeper reaches of your power. The Concord won't wait, and neither should we."
Sam felt the weight of the journal in his pocket, its presence a reminder of the person he once was and the strength he needed to find again. He took a deep breath, eyes hardening with resolve.
"Then let's begin."