I woke to the soft light of the rising sun, creeping through the half-closed curtains of Rhea’s apartment. My eyes adjusted slowly, taking in the scattered mess of last night—clothes discarded on the floor, the faint smell of smoke and something else lingering in the air.


    Rhea was still asleep beside me, her dark hair sprawled across the pillow, breathing steady and deep. I shifted slightly, careful not to wake her. The quiet was unsettling after the chaos of the night before, but it was familiar too. This is how things always ended with us.


    I sat up slowly, letting the sheets slide off, and ran a hand through my hair. The events of the previous night replayed in my mind—how quickly things had escalated, the edge of danger that clung to every word between us. I’d let her get under my skin, as I had so many times before. Maybe it was the tension, maybe it was the exhaustion. Either way, it was done.


    The room was still, except for the faint hum of the city outside. I glanced down at Rhea again, her face peaceful in sleep. I wasn’t fooled by the calm. It never lasted with her, with us. We were too similar, too tangled in our own webs of survival to let anything stay simple.


    I stood, careful not to disturb the quiet, and began picking up my clothes from the floor. This wasn’t the first time we’d ended up like this, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. That thought alone left a bitter taste in my mouth.


    Behind me, I heard Rhea stir.


    “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. I didn’t turn around, just kept adjusting my jacket as she sat up, pushing the sheets aside. “You’re up early.”


    I glanced over my shoulder, meeting her half-lidded gaze. “Didn’t plan on staying long.”


    Rhea smirked, leaning back against the headboard, her hair falling messily over her shoulders. “You never do.”


    There was a strange comfort in the routine of it all. We knew what this was—no expectations, no illusions. Just two people who found solace in each other’s company when the world became too loud. Nothing more.


    “I’ve known you for too long, Kaelen.” Rhea stretched, her body languid, and her voice took on that familiar teasing tone. “You’ve always been like this. In and out. Never sticking around.”


    I grabbed my boots and sat on the edge of the bed to put them on, avoiding her gaze. “You know why. We both do.”


    Her smile faded, just for a moment, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. I guess I do.”


    We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just... real. There was no point in pretending we were more than we were, but at the same time, there was an understanding between us. One that went beyond the surface.


    “I didn’t ask for protection,” she said suddenly, her voice quieter now. “From them, from anyone. I don’t need it.”


    I paused, pulling on the second boot. “Maybe not,” I said, standing and adjusting the strap. “But if they come for you again, I’ll handle it.”


    Rhea looked up at me, her dark eyes sharp, but something softer lingered behind them. “You’re not doing this for me.”


    “No,” I admitted, meeting her gaze directly. “But if you’re in danger, I’ll protect you. You know that.”


    Her smirk returned, though there was an edge to it now. “So gallant, Kaelen. I almost believe you.”


    I moved toward the door, the heaviness of the night still clinging to me. As I reached for the handle, I stopped, my back still to her.


    “One more thing.” My voice was cold, cutting through the morning light like a blade. “If you betray me again, don’t expect me to save you a second time. You’d better hope those mercenaries keep their word and protect you.”


    There was a brief silence before Rhea responded, her tone flat but with the faintest hint of a smile. “Noted.”


    I turned the handle and left, the door clicking shut behind me.


    As I stepped out into the streets of Shadefall, the early morning air hit me, cold and biting, a reminder that the world was as unforgiving as ever. The streets were quieter here, on the edge of the city, where the chaos of the inner districts didn''t quite reach. But even so, the city’s pulse was still there, thrumming beneath everything like a dull ache.


    I stuffed my hands into my pockets, walking with no real direction, but with one thought that gnawed at the back of my mind. Well, two, if I’m being honest. I could still feel the weight of the night with Rhea lingering, like an itch that refused to go away. But that was just one more thing. There was always something. Always.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The real issue? The presence inside me. The thing that had been slithering just beneath the surface ever since... the incident. And now it was more than just a feeling. It was growing, testing its limits—and mine. Problem was, I still had no clue what the hell I was doing with it.


    In a world going to hell, you either keep up with the shifting tide or get drowned. And lately, it felt like I was barely keeping my head above water.


    I took a left turn, heading down a narrow alley that snaked toward the outskirts of Shadefall. It wasn’t exactly the safest place to be, but that was half the point. The further you got from the heart of the city, the more forgotten things became. The perfect place for me to try to figure out whatever this was without any unwanted eyes.


    The alley opened up into a small clearing, an overgrown lot that no one cared enough to clean up. Crumbling brick walls loomed on three sides, with weeds pushing through the cracks in the stone. The whole area was quiet—too quiet. Exactly what I needed.


    I stood there for a moment, scanning the surroundings, hands still in my pockets. This was it. Time to see if I could get a grip on this... thing. Or at least figure out if I was going insane. Either way, it beat sitting in Rhea’s apartment, pretending I knew what I was doing.


    With a sigh, I pulled my hands out of my pockets and flexed my fingers. The presence, the shadows, whatever it was, had been tugging at me. Maybe it was time I stopped resisting. Maybe I needed to let it in, just a little.


    "Alright," I muttered to myself, "let’s see what you’ve got."


    I stood still, focusing on the shadows that clung to the edges of the lot, where the sun hadn’t fully reached yet. I didn’t exactly have a game plan, just... an instinct. The presence had always felt like it was waiting for me to call on it, and maybe that’s what this was.


    "Come on, then," I grumbled, narrowing my eyes. "Show me something."


    Nothing. Not even a twitch.


    I sighed, rolling my shoulders. This was ridiculous. I was trying to control something I barely understood, and I felt like an idiot standing in the middle of an abandoned lot, glaring at shadows like they owed me money.


    "Okay," I muttered, pacing in a small circle, "maybe focus. Or... ask nicely?"


    I stopped, turned back toward the shadow of the nearest wall, and took a deep breath. I reached out—not physically, but with something deeper, like I was stretching a part of myself that wasn’t supposed to stretch. And for a second... just a second... I thought I saw it move. The shadow. Just a ripple, but it was there.


    Or maybe I was imagining things. I wasn’t sure.


    "Alright, alright," I said, raising my hands, half in mock surrender. "Let’s not all jump at once."


    I tried again, reaching deeper this time, feeling for that presence, for whatever part of me was connected to it. I focused on the shadow, narrowing my thoughts, my frustration starting to bubble up. Move.


    The shadow flickered. I blinked. Did I...? No, I couldn’t have.


    I tried again. This time, there was no doubt. The shadow shifted, just a hair. I grinned, despite myself.


    "Ha. Take that, physics," I muttered. But before I could get too smug about it, the shadow snapped back into place, as if mocking me.


    "Figures," I said, rolling my eyes. "Tease me with just enough, then yank it away. Story of my life."


    I glanced around, feeling slightly ridiculous. But there was a strange satisfaction in knowing I’d made something happen, even if it was barely noticeable. And the truth was, this was the first real progress I’d made with... whatever this was.


    I stepped closer to the wall, the shadow darkening as I neared it. "Alright," I said quietly, "let’s try that again."


    This time, I focused harder, reaching into the part of me where I knew the presence lurked. It wasn’t just me anymore. I could feel it, like it was waiting. I focused on the shadow, and then—there. It moved. It twisted, stretching toward me like it was alive.


    And then I laughed, more out of disbelief than anything. "Well, I’ll be damned."


    But just as quickly as the shadow had responded, it flickered out again, leaving me standing there, unsure if I was actually in control or just getting lucky. Either way, I had made progress. Small, sure, but it was something.


    I stepped back, wiping a hand across my face. "So... is this what losing it feels like? Because I’ve gotta say, it’s got a certain charm."


    I couldn’t shake the grin off my face, even as the confusion settled in. This was going to take time, more time than I had. But for now, at least, I wasn’t starting from zero.


    "You know," I said, casting a glance at the shadows, "this might actually get fun. Assuming I don’t accidentally implode or whatever."


    I took a step forward, eyeing the shadows again, wondering if I could control them, bend them to my will, rather than just coaxing them along like a stubborn animal. My hand hovered just over the edge of the darkness, close enough to feel the temperature shift where the light faded.


    A thought struck me—a ridiculous, impossible idea. But I figured, why not?


    "What if it’s not about moving them?" I mused aloud. "What if it’s about becoming them?"


    I closed my eyes for a moment, steadying my breath, focusing on the feeling of the shadows around me. Not just their presence, but how they interacted with the space—silent, unnoticed, yet everywhere. I let that sensation sink in, the stillness of it, the cold. Then, in one fluid motion, I stepped into the shadow.


    For a split second, I felt... lighter. Less solid. Like I was part of the darkness itself. My body didn’t dissolve or anything dramatic like that, but it was like the shadows hugged closer, like they accepted me in their space rather than pushed me out. It was subtle—almost imperceptible—but there.


    I opened my eyes, half-expecting nothing to have changed. But my fingers... they were blurred at the edges, just barely, as if the light couldn’t quite grasp them fully.


    I couldn’t help the smirk that spread across my face.


    "Now that," I muttered, "is interesting."


    The effect faded as soon as I blinked, but the potential of it lingered. If I could push further into that, really let go, there might be more to this than I realized.


    I took another step back, giving the shadows one last, thoughtful look. "Alright. Maybe you’re not just a party trick after all."


    I shoved my hands back in my pockets and started to walk away, already plotting my next move. If I could figure this out, I could turn it into something useful. I just had to keep pushing, testing the limits.


    But in the back of my mind, a single thought kept lingering.


    What if I wasn’t the one in control?