Thorne's presence in the cave was like a storm cloud, darkening the space and pressing in on Aelric's senses. The air seemed to thicken as the shadows around him stirred uneasily, reacting to the man's unnatural aura.
Aelric stepped back, instinctively shifting into a defensive stance. The power inside him surged, the shadows responding to his unease, but he kept his focus. Thorne was no ordinary mage—there was something about him that felt ancient, as if he had walked in the same darkness that Aelric now sought to control.
Elara didn't seem surprised by his appearance, but Aelric could feel the tension in her posture. She was ready to fight, though she didn't draw her weapon.
"You've grown bold, Elara," Thorne said, his voice a smooth, almost seductive purr. "Training this boy to wield power that belongs to me."
"I owe you nothing, Thorne," Elara replied coldly. "Aelric is under my protection now. If you want him, you'll have to go through me."
Thorne's smile widened, but there was no humor in it. "I would never harm you, Elara. But the boy…" He turned his gaze toward Aelric, his eyes glowing with an unsettling light. "He's a problem. You should have never allowed him to tap into the shadows."
Aelric felt his heart race as Thorne's gaze locked onto his. The shadows around him pulsed in response, as if sensing the danger the man represented.
"Why?" Aelric demanded, his voice tight. "What do you want with me?"
Thorne's smile faded into a more calculating expression. "You are a child of the shadows. That relic you carry… It is mine by right. You were never meant to have it. But now, I suppose, we must come to an understanding."
Elara stepped forward, blocking Aelric with her body. "You'll have to take it from him, then. Aelric is no one's pawn. And neither am I."
Thorne's eyes narrowed, the intensity of his gaze growing. "I do not wish for conflict, Elara. But I will not let a relic of such power slip from my grasp so easily."
---
A Test of Power
The air between them crackled with tension, and Aelric could feel the pressure building. This wasn't just a confrontation of words—it was a battle of wills, of power. He could sense the shadows beginning to stir, reacting to the rise in hostility. His heart thudded in his chest, and he found himself instinctively reaching for the darkness.
Thorne seemed to sense it as well. He raised a hand, and the shadows around him writhed, forming into tendrils that lashed out toward Elara. She moved swiftly, her dagger flashing in the dim light as she cut through the shadows, but Thorne was relentless.
Aelric felt the power within him surge, his anger mixing with the shadows as the voice inside his mind stirred. "Embrace it," it whispered. "Use the shadows."
He hesitated for only a moment before he stepped forward, his arms outstretched. The shadows around him responded immediately, swirling around him like a cloak. He felt the weight of them, the coldness, and the hunger—but he didn't flinch.
Thorne turned his gaze toward Aelric, his lips curling into a smile. "So, you've learned to wield the darkness. But you're still weak. Let's see if you can control it."
With a flick of his wrist, Thorne unleashed a wave of shadow that slammed into Aelric, sending him sprawling backward. The force of the attack rattled his bones, but the shadows around him caught him, cushioning his fall.
Aelric's eyes flashed with determination. The power inside him surged again, the relic's mark on his chest pulsing with heat. He had learned much from Elara, but this was different. This wasn't just training—it was a fight for survival.
He rose to his feet, his hands crackling with dark energy. "I won't let you take this from me," he growled, his voice a mixture of fear and defiance.
Thorne's eyes gleamed with amusement. "You think you can stop me?"
The shadows around Aelric began to shift, responding to his will. He extended his hands, and dark tendrils erupted from the ground, wrapping around Thorne's legs. The older mage barely flinched, his own shadows slicing through the tendrils like a knife through silk.
Aelric pressed forward, his mind focused. He summoned more shadows, shaping them into weapons—a spear, a sword—his control over the darkness growing stronger with each passing second. The relic's power, now fully awakened, surged through him. He could feel it—he could feel the ancient strength of the Shadow Emperor flowing through him, lending him power.
But Thorne was no novice. He moved with practiced ease, blocking Aelric's attacks and sending waves of shadows in retaliation. The cave shook with the intensity of their clash, the air thick with the scent of magic and raw power.
---
A Deadly Proposition
For what felt like hours, the two battled in a storm of shadows, neither willing to give an inch. But Aelric's body began to tire, his control over the darkness starting to waver. He had never fought anyone like Thorne—someone who was as at home in the shadows as he was.
Thorne's shadow tendrils wrapped around Aelric's arms, pulling him forward. The older mage's face was inches from his, the dark glow in his eyes burning with intensity.
"You're strong, boy," Thorne said, his voice low and menacing. "But not strong enough. You cannot control this power. It will consume you."
Aelric struggled against the shadows, but the more he fought, the tighter they gripped him. The relic's power, once a source of strength, now felt like a weight on his chest. He could feel the darkness clawing at him, trying to break free.
"You have a choice," Thorne continued, his voice barely a whisper. "Join me. Together, we can rule the shadows. I can teach you to control it. Or… you can die here, alone."
Aelric's heart hammered in his chest. Thorne's words tempted him, but deep down, he knew he couldn't trust him. This was a game—a test of Aelric's will. The shadows wanted control, and Thorne was offering him the power to dominate them.
But at what cost?