Theodore stepped through the swirling portal, and the air shifted instantly. It was heavy, oppressive, and carried an icy chill that seeped into his bones. He gasped slightly as the weight of the realm bore down on him. The gravity felt unnatural, almost as if the world itself was trying to pin him to the ground. A thin mist coated the air, making each breath feel like inhaling smoke.
The sky was unlike anything Theodore had ever seen. It wasn't just crimson—it pulsed like a beating heart, its eerie light bathing the landscape in a bloody hue. There was no sun, no stars, no clouds—only the two moons. One glowed a malevolent red, like an unblinking eye, while the other was a pitch-black void, radiating despair that gnawed at the edges of his sanity.
The land stretched endlessly before him, a nightmarish vision of jagged obsidian cliffs, molten rivers glowing faintly in the distance, and ancient ruins crumbling under their own weight. In the distance stood a colossal castle, a grotesque masterpiece of dread. Its towering spires jutted into the bleeding sky like skeletal fingers, its walls built from the bones of creatures too large to comprehend. Two massive skeletal heads flanked the gates, their hollow eyes weeping trails of black mist. The fortress seemed alive, its tendrils of purple and black mist shifting and writhing as if they were watching him.
Theodore's lips curled into a smirk, his crimson eyes glinting with excitement. "This is the realm of the shadows? Impressive." He exhaled deeply, steadying himself. "This place... it's alive. Malicious. Perfect."
He stepped forward, the jagged rocks beneath his boots crunching ominously. The air hummed faintly with energy, each step reverberating with a haunting echo. Soon, he approached the edge of a cliff. Below was a sea of mist so thick it seemed like an endless abyss. The whispers began faintly at first, indistinct murmurs in a language he couldn't understand.
"Jump," they hissed.
Theodore frowned, narrowing his eyes at the swirling abyss below. Without hesitation, he took a few steps back, then ran forward at full speed. He leaped off the cliff, his body slicing through the cold air. As the mist began to envelop him, he clapped his hands, channeling his mana. A shockwave erupted around him, dispersing the mist and revealing the jagged ground below. He landed with a thunderous crash, the force of his impact cracking the rocky surface beneath him.
Theodore rose to his feet, dusting himself off. "Not bad," he muttered, glancing around.
The whispers grew louder. He turned, his sharp gaze scanning the desolate landscape. Shadows shifted unnaturally among the jagged rocks, moving in the corners of his vision. The air grew colder, and the oppressive energy pressing down on him became heavier. He could feel it—eyes watching him, malice closing in from every direction.
"We're being watched," Theodore said to himself, his voice calm but low.
The whispers intensified, overlapping and growing more venomous. The words were indistinct but carried a chilling hatred that seeped into his skin. He clenched his fists, his aura sparking faintly. "Enough of this nonsense," he growled, his voice steady but filled with authority.
Theodore planted his feet firmly, his crimson eyes glowing with mana as he channeled his aura. Black lightning crackled around him, illuminating the desolate ground in flickering flashes. His voice thundered across the realm. "Enough games! Show yourselves and face me!"
For a moment, silence returned. The oppressive energy hung in the air like a storm about to break. Then, the whispers returned, louder now, like a chorus of hissing voices overlapping each other. The mist began to gather once more, swirling faster and faster until it obscured the entire area.
The temperature plummeted, and the malice in the air became almost unbearable. Theodore's heart pounded in his chest as he saw shapes emerge from the mist.
A horde of figures materialized, each one towering over six feet tall. Their forms were cloaked in black mist, their glowing eyes piercing through the darkness like malevolent stars. Sharp claws and jagged teeth gleamed faintly, their bodies flickering and shifting like unstable shadows. They didn't move like humans; their movements were erratic, almost glitch-like, as if reality itself rejected them.
Theodore stood his ground, his gaze locked on the army before him.
The voices came from all around him, overlapping in a cacophony of curses and laughter:
"Who dares disturb us?"
"Foolish child, prepare to be devoured!"
"Become one of us!"
"Your flesh will rot, and your soul will be ours!"
Theodore clicked his tongue, the corner of his lips tugging upward. "A trap? How cute."
Theodore's hands began gathering pure mana, the blue-white energy crackling in his palms like a barely contained storm. "I can deal with you if that's what you want," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around him. His crimson eyes narrowed, calculating. "You're shadows—beings of pure darkness. Light should be your weakness... but since I can't use light magic yet, fire will have to do."
Fire magic was one of the four primary elements he had studied, a volatile and destructive force, yet also difficult to master. Fire magic required a delicate balance of mana control: too little mana, and the flames would fizzle out; too much, and the caster risked losing control, the fire consuming everything indiscriminately—including the caster themselves. For someone like Theodore, who was only ten years old and still learning the intricacies, it was a gamble.
"Fireball!" Theodore yelled, launching a condensed sphere of fire at the nearest shadow. The blazing orb roared through the air and struck one of the shadows square in the chest, exploding on impact. But as the smoke cleared, Theodore's expression darkened. The shadow's form twisted, reforming instantly, the flames leaving no lasting effect.
"What?" he growled, his frustration growing. He clenched his fists, summoning more mana. This time, he combined two fireballs into one, forming a larger, denser sphere of flames. The heat radiated off it in waves, distorting the air around him. Fireball magic grew exponentially stronger when combined, but the drawback was its instability—the increased mana density made it volatile and harder to control.
Theodore hurled the massive fireball into the group of shadows. It exploded with a deafening roar, the ground shaking under his feet. Smoke and flames erupted everywhere, but when the dust settled, the shadows were still standing.
"Tsk. It's not enough," Theodore muttered under his breath, his crimson eyes darting around. Shadows were creatures of darkness magic, immune to most elemental spells unless they were imbued with divine or light mana—qualities Theodore's fire magic currently lacked. The shadows began closing in, their hollow, glowing eyes locking onto him like predators stalking prey.
They moved with terrifying speed, and despite his small frame, Theodore reacted on instinct. He imbued his legs with fire mana, a basic reinforcement spell that enhanced physical strength by channeling elemental energy through the body. However, fire mana wasn't ideal for long-term reinforcement. It burned through his reserves quickly and caused strain on his muscles, a dangerous trade-off for temporary speed and strength.
Theodore leapt into the air, flipping backward as one of the shadows swiped at him with razor-sharp claws. The tip of its claw grazed his shoulder, and pain shot through his body. Blood began to seep through his shirt, staining the fabric. "Damn it," he hissed, landing awkwardly. "There are too many of them, and they're regenerating too fast."
The shadows advanced again, their movements almost serpentine as they struck from multiple directions. Theodore ducked under one swipe, then twisted to avoid another, but he wasn't fast enough to evade them all. Deep scratches marred his arms and legs as their claws found their mark.
"Am I really going to die here?" he thought, a wave of doubt washing over him. The realization that his small, ten-year-old body lacked the stamina and resilience needed to endure such an onslaught gnawed at him. He clenched his teeth, shaking the thoughts away.
"I can't back down," he muttered, his voice trembling with determination. "I've lived a life of fear before. Never again."
A surge of dark mana began to leak from his body, unbidden. It was raw, chaotic, and terrifying—a stark contrast to the refined mana used for elemental magic. Dark mana, the essence of the shadows themselves, was a power Theodore had barely tapped into. Unlike normal mana, it didn't flow smoothly through his veins. It clawed its way out, tearing at his very soul as it answered his call.
"Priestess Shadow," Theodore whispered through gritted teeth. A shadowy figure emerged beside him, her form delicate yet commanding. The Priestess, one of the many shadows bound to him, bowed gracefully.
"Your command, my prince," she said, her voice soothing yet laced with an eerie echo.
Theodore gestured toward himself. "Heal me."
The Priestess obeyed, her hands glowing with dark, restorative energy as she touched his wounds. Unlike traditional healing magic, which relied on light mana to mend wounds, shadow-based healing worked by consuming pain and replacing damaged tissue with a substance akin to darkness itself. It was effective but came with a cost—it numbed the area, leaving a faint, unsettling coldness in its wake.
As the healing took effect, Theodore felt his strength return, but he knew it wouldn't last. "Thank you," he said as the Priestess vanished back into the mist.
The shadows hissed, enraged by the display of power. They surged forward again, more aggressive than before. Theodore cursed under his breath and turned, bolting in the opposite direction. "Damn it, I can't keep this up," he muttered, his legs burning as he pushed himself to run faster.
His eyes locked onto the distant fortress, its massive gates looming like the maw of a beast. A strange instinct pulled him toward it, as though something within the castle was calling to him.
The shadows were relentless, their numbers endless. Theodore leapt over jagged rocks and broken ground, using wind magic to propel himself forward. Wind magic, though not inherently powerful, was incredibly versatile. It allowed him to glide short distances, boosting his speed and agility.
Just as the shadows were about to close in, Theodore saw an opportunity. He poured his remaining mana into his legs and leapt, soaring toward a shattered window high on the fortress wall. He crashed through the glass, landing hard on the stone floor below. Pain shot through his body, but he forced himself to stand.
Theodore's heart pounded in his chest as he looked around the massive throne room. It was a place straight out of a nightmare. The throne, crafted from interwoven bones, stood as the centerpiece, emanating a sinister aura. Large windows framed with heavy, tattered black curtains let in no light. Purple flames flickered on torches mounted at each corner, casting eerie shadows that danced across the stone walls. The oppressive silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of fire, was deafening.
Theodore's gaze flicked to the massive black suits of armor stationed in each corner of the room. They stood motionless, each holding a cursed blade that glowed faintly with mana. The room itself was enormous, as if designed to house a ruler far beyond human proportions.
At first, Theodore noticed the open door, revealing the shadowy corridor outside. The horde of shadows that had chased him here was gone, not daring to step foot inside the castle.
"What... they left?" he muttered, his voice shaky. Relief threatened to flood him, but a deeper instinct screamed that something was wrong. His body tensed as dread crept up his spine.
Slowly, he turned back toward the throne, and his breath caught in his throat. A towering figure clad in pitch-black armor stood before him, its presence suffocating. The figure was massive—easily 7 feet tall—with broad shoulders that made it seem like a walking fortress. Its armor was jagged, pulsating with cursed mana, and its helm glowed faintly with two burning red eyes. In its hands rested a colossal sword, nearly the size of Theodore himself, its edge shimmering with violet energy.
(How?! I didn't sense him... Where did he even come from?!) Theodore's mind raced. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs felt rooted to the ground.
The figure's deep voice boomed, carrying the weight of centuries. "A child dares to enter this place? What is a whelp like you doing in my castle?"
Theodore flinched, his fingers trembling at his sides. "D-Damn it," he muttered under his breath, trying to steady his breathing. (This is bad. I'm not ready for this. My body isn't even fully developed. What was I thinking coming here?!)
The figure's burning gaze locked onto Theodore. "No answer? Too scared to speak?" it mocked, stepping forward. The ground trembled beneath its heavy boots, each step carrying an intimidating weight.
Theodore forced himself to hold his ground, though his legs felt like jelly. He clenched his fists, sweat dripping down his face. "If you think I'm scared of you," he spat, "you're dead wrong."
The figure chuckled darkly, its laughter echoing ominously through the chamber. "Brave words for a child trembling in fear."
Before Theodore could react, the figure raised its massive blade and swung it downward. The movement was faster than anything Theodore expected. He barely leapt out of the way in time, the blade smashing into the ground with an earth-shattering impact. The force of the swing sent a gust of wind rippling through the room, knocking Theodore off balance.
(What the hell?! That strike didn't just shake the ground—it almost split the room in half!) Theodore's mind screamed. His body was smaller and weaker than he wanted to admit, and he knew he was no match for the sheer strength this shadow possessed.
The soldier didn't relent. It swung again, faster this time, its sword carving arcs of purple light in the air. Theodore ducked, rolled, and scrambled out of the way, his smaller frame barely allowing him to evade the strikes. A strand of his hair was sliced clean off by one of the blows, fluttering to the ground.
"Damn it! He's adapting to my movements!" Theodore cursed as the figure adjusted its attacks to counter his speed.
The soldier sneered, raising the blade for a horizontal slash. "You can't run forever, boy!" The blade tore through the air, and Theodore felt a sudden, sharp impact as the hilt of the weapon slammed into his chest, sending him flying backward. He crashed into the base of the bone throne, coughing violently as the wind was knocked out of him.
"Ugh..." Theodore groaned, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His entire body felt like it was on fire. (I can't win this. Not like this. I'm completely outmatched!)
The shadow soldier strode forward, its heavy footsteps echoing ominously. "I expected more from someone foolish enough to enter this castle," it said. "But you're just another pathetic whelp, aren't you?"
Theodore pushed himself to his knees, his hands trembling as he tried to summon mana. "I... won't die here," he muttered. Summoning all his will, he formed a ball of fire in his palm. "Fireball!" he shouted, launching the searing orb at the soldier.
The fireball exploded against the soldier's armor, engulfing it in flames. For a moment, Theodore allowed himself to hope. But as the smoke cleared, the figure stood unscathed. Its massive gauntlet reached out, grabbing the fireball's remnants in its hand and crushing it into nothingness.
"WHAT?!" Theodore's voice cracked in disbelief.
The soldier laughed, the sound booming through the chamber. "Is that all? You call that magic? You're not even worth the effort."
It surged forward with terrifying speed, swinging its blade with brutal force. Theodore dodged, barely, but the blade's sheer power created a shockwave that sent him crashing into the wall. His small frame hit the stone hard, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.
"Damn it... I can't..." Theodore's vision blurred, his body refusing to respond. Tears pricked his eyes as fear clawed at his chest. (I'm going to die here. I was stupid to come. I should've listened to Belial and Mimi.)
The soldier raised its sword, its red eyes glowing menacingly. "Farewell, boy. I'll send your remains to the shadow ."
Time seemed to slow as the blade descended toward Theodore's broken body. In that moment, his mind drifted to the dark, endless library within the Shadow Book. (No... I can't die here. I refuse to die here!)
"I see... this is how I die," Theodore muttered, his voice low and tinged with resignation as he slowly pulled himself up, blood dripping from his split lip. His small body trembled under the weight of exhaustion and the oppressive mana of the shadow soldier before him.
(But no... I won't die here. I must do something to survive!)
Closing his eyes tightly, he found himself once again in the dark, familiar expanse of his mind where the Book of Shadows stood towering before him. Its sinister aura pulsed as the pages flipped on their own, guiding Theodore's desperate gaze.
Suddenly, the book stopped at a page marked with glowing, ancient runes:
> Parity Jinx <
A forbidden spell that allows the caster to temporarily match their enemy's strength. Warning: Usage will restrict the caster's dark magic for four months.
Theodore's heart sank at the price. "Four months without dark magic?! Are they serious?" he growled, his frustration echoing through the void.
But as he glanced at the menacing shadow soldier in reality, who was preparing another devastating strike, Theodore knew he had no choice. The purple, cursed mana radiating from its massive blade sent shivers down his spine. (If I don't use this now, I'll never see tomorrow.)
He hesitated for only a moment before slamming his hand down on the glowing page. Instantly, the ancient text dissolved into black mist and surged into his body. The pain was immediate—like molten lava coursing through his veins—but so was the power.
Back in the throne room, Theodore's eyes snapped open, glowing with an intense crimson light. The ground beneath him cracked as an eruption of dark energy burst from his small frame, shaking the entire castle. The cursed torches lining the room flickered violently in response.
The shadow soldier stopped mid-charge, covering itself with its massive blade as the surge of energy rattled the room. "Dark magic?!" it roared, its hollow voice laced with disbelief. "What kind of power is this?! Don't tell me... you're the chosen one of the book!"
Theodore clenched his fists, flexing his arms as the newfound power coursed through him. He felt as though his muscles, his mana, and even his very soul were burning, but the strength that flooded his body was undeniable. The trembling boy of a moment ago had transformed into someone who could finally stand against the overwhelming foe before him.
"I guess I am," Theodore said, his voice calm but laced with a chilling undertone. He took a step forward, and the ground cracked beneath him. "I feel strong now. Looks like I'm on your level, big guy."
The shadow soldier, its crimson eyes narrowing behind its helm, didn't laugh. For the first time, it hesitated. "So... you're the chosen one. But even the power of the book won't make a child like you worthy of leading us! I've seen countless weaklings fall. You will be no different!"
The soldier's cursed blade radiated dark mana as it swung toward Theodore, the sheer force of the strike splitting the air.
Theodore, his body now enhanced by the Parity Jinx, sidestepped the attack with blinding speed, his movements creating a shockwave that sent loose debris flying across the room. Before the soldier could recover, Theodore closed the gap and delivered a devastating punch to the center of its armor.
BANG!
The impact echoed like thunder as the massive shadow soldier staggered back, the force of the blow leaving a visible dent in its cursed armor.
"Not so tough when we're on equal ground, huh?" Theodore smirked, but inside, he was struggling. (This power... it's eating through my mana faster than I thought. I have to end this quickly.)
The shadow soldier straightened, the dent in its armor slowly repairing itself with swirling dark energy. It grinned, revealing rows of jagged teeth beneath its helm. "Impressive, but this is nothing! Let me show you what true power feels like, boy!"
With a guttural roar, the soldier plunged its massive sword into the ground. Instantly, cursed mana erupted around it, forming spikes of black energy that shot toward Theodore like spears.
Theodore leapt high into the air, narrowly avoiding the deadly spikes. "Tch, that was close!" he muttered, flipping midair and summoning fire magic. He gathered his mana quickly, forming an orb of swirling flames in his hands.
"Let's see how you handle this! Exploding Inferno!" he shouted, hurling the fiery attack toward the soldier.
The massive orb of fire hurtled toward the soldier, engulfing it in a blinding explosion that lit up the throne room. The cursed torches flickered wildly as the heat scorched the air, and Theodore landed on the ground, panting as he tried to recover.
For a moment, all was silent. The throne room was filled with smoke and the faint crackle of flames.
But then, a deep, mocking laugh echoed through the room. The smoke cleared to reveal the shadow soldier, its armor glowing faintly red from the heat but otherwise unharmed.
"Fire magic?" it sneered, its voice filled with disdain. "Child, your flames are nothing against the cursed mana of this realm. You'll have to do better than that."
Theodore clenched his fists. (This isn't working... I need another plan!) His mind raced as the shadow soldier raised its massive blade once more, preparing to strike.
"Do you see now?" the soldier boomed, stepping closer. "You may have borrowed power from the book, but you're still weak. You don't deserve to stand in this castle, let alone rule over the shadows!"
Theodore's breathing was labored, and his legs felt like lead. The Parity Jinx had granted him immense power, but it was draining his mana reserves at an alarming rate. His young body, though enhanced, was struggling to keep up with the demands of the fight.
(Think, Theodore, think! You've faced worse odds before. There's always a way out. I just need to...)
His crimson eyes darted to the cursed blade, then to the throne behind the soldier. An idea formed in his mind—a desperate gamble, but it was his only shot.