I stepped into my apartment, the dim light barely cutting through the thick shadows that clung to the walls. It felt different tonight—darker, heavier. I let the door close behind me, the sound echoing in the empty room. The Codex Umbra weighed heavily in my hands, more than just its physical weight. It was as if the book itself had a presence, something I could feel pressing against my mind.
I placed it gently on the table in front of me, staring down at the worn, leather-bound cover. There were no visible markings, no indication of the power hidden within its pages, but I knew better. The old man wouldn’t have given this away so easily if it weren’t something more than it appeared.
Sitting down, I let my fingers trace the edges of the book, a small part of me hesitating to open it. I wasn’t an arcanist. I’d never been trained in magic. My abilities were… different. Unwanted. But something about this felt familiar, like the book had been waiting for me.
With a deep breath, I opened the Codex.
The pages were thick, aged parchment, filled with symbols and runes that seemed to shift and shimmer in the low light. I didn’t recognize any of them, not fully. But there was something… intuitive about the way they were laid out. I couldn’t read them exactly, but I could feel their meaning, like whispers at the back of my mind, nudging me to understand.
I leaned closer, squinting at a particular rune that seemed to glow faintly. It was intricate, swirling like a coiled shadow, but as I stared at it, a sharp pulse of energy shot through me. My breath hitched as the room seemed to dim even further, the shadows stretching toward me, eager and alive.
“Damn…” I muttered, pulling back, my heart pounding in my chest. This was more than just ink on paper.
I took a moment to gather myself, shaking off the strange feeling. The old man had said this book would help me control my powers, to understand what I was becoming. But it wasn’t going to be as simple as turning a page and finding the answers I needed.
The symbols on the page seemed to move, rearranging themselves subtly. I blinked, unsure if it was a trick of the light or something more. Was the Codex reacting to me? Or was I reacting to it?
Leaning forward again, I focused on the next rune. My pulse steadied, and I could feel the pull of the shadows around me, an almost magnetic force. Slowly, I raised my hand over the page, not touching it, but close enough to feel the energy vibrating beneath my skin.
The air thickened, and the shadows in the room seemed to gather, swirling around me like a dark fog. I concentrated, willing them to move, to follow my command. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft whisper, the shadows shifted, responding to the pull of the rune.
A grin tugged at the corner of my lips. There it is.
But just as quickly as the shadows moved, they recoiled, snapping back into place as if rebelling against me. The air in the room grew colder, and a low hum resonated from the Codex, vibrating through my fingertips.
I exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the growing tension in my chest. It was like being given a puzzle with half the pieces missing. The power was there, just beyond my reach, but I had no idea how to fully grasp it.
Still, I couldn’t stop now. I needed to understand this. The presence, the whispers in my mind—they were growing louder every day. And this book… it held answers. I was sure of it.
The rune on the page flickered again, its energy pulsing in time with the shadows that coiled at the edges of the room. I clenched my fist, determined to push further this time, to control it.
But as I reached for the energy once more, the shadows exploded outward, filling the room with a sudden, violent force. My chair toppled backward, and I hit the floor hard, the air knocked from my lungs. Darkness pressed in on all sides, suffocating, alive.
I gasped, struggling to regain control. The shadows swirled around me, thick and suffocating, and for a moment, I thought I’d lost. But then, just as quickly as they’d attacked, they receded, slipping back into the corners of the room as if nothing had happened.
I lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, my heart hammering in my chest. My breath came in ragged gasps, and my hands trembled from the sheer intensity of it all.
“Alright,” I whispered to the empty room. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way.”
I dragged myself up from the floor, wiping the sweat from my forehead. The shadows had settled again, quiet and still, but the room felt different—charged. The Codex sat on the table, seemingly innocent, as if it hadn’t just tried to suffocate me.
“Fine,” I muttered under my breath, glancing at the book. “You’ve got my attention.”
I couldn’t afford to stop now. Whatever this power was, it was tied to me—woven into the fabric of who I’d become. The shadows were reacting to me, and I needed to learn how to make them obey. I couldn’t let the book, or whatever force it was connected to, win.
I picked up the chair and sat back down, my body tense as I stared at the Codex. The runes on the page flickered softly, almost as if they were watching me. I took a deep breath and leaned forward, this time taking a slower, more measured approach.
The runes danced in front of me, their meaning still out of reach. But the more I stared at them, the more they seemed to make sense—not in the way words do, but in some deeper, primal way. It was like the knowledge was embedded in the symbols themselves, waiting to be unlocked.
As I concentrated, I felt a faint stirring in my chest, like a thread pulling taut. The energy of the shadows wasn’t just around me—it was within me. I closed my eyes, focusing inward, trying to follow the thread of power that connected me to the shadows.
And then, I felt it—an answer. The first step wasn’t about control. It was about understanding.
I opened my eyes, the room still dim, the shadows lurking at the edges of my vision. I placed my hand over the rune again, but this time, I didn’t force it. I let the energy flow, letting the shadows respond naturally to my presence.
The air around me shifted, a soft rustling sound filling the room as the shadows began to move again, slower this time, more controlled. I could feel the energy pulsing beneath my skin, a rhythm I hadn’t noticed before. The shadows coiled around my hand, not fighting me, but reacting to my intent.
I grinned slightly, the rush of discovery thrilling me. That’s more like it.
But just as I thought I was making progress, the room grew colder. The shadows that had once obeyed me suddenly twisted, moving on their own accord. The familiar pulse of energy from the Codex intensified, and I realized with a jolt that I had triggered something deeper—something more dangerous.
Before I could react, the shadows lashed out, coiling around me like chains. The grip was tight, suffocating, and for a moment, I thought I might lose consciousness again. But then, something inside me stirred—an instinct, primal and fierce. I pushed back, reaching for the power within me, forcing it to the surface.
The shadows faltered, their grip loosening for just a second. And in that second, I seized control.
The darkness recoiled, retreating to the edges of the room once more. I gasped for air, my heart racing as I collapsed against the table, barely keeping myself upright.
“Damn it…” I muttered, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in. This wasn’t just some ancient artifact. The Codex was more alive than I had thought.
And it was testing me.
I leaned back in the chair, running a hand through my hair. My mind raced with possibilities. If the Codex reacted like this when I tapped into its power, what else was hidden within its pages? I could feel it now—the potential, the connection between me and the shadows. It was raw, unstable, but it was there. The question was: How far could I take it before it pushed back again?
Just as that thought settled, there was a knock at the door—a sudden, sharp rap that shattered the quiet.
I stiffened, every instinct telling me to stay silent. Whoever it was, they weren’t here for a friendly chat.
The knock came again, louder this time. My hand instinctively reached for the blade strapped to my side, but before I could rise from the chair, a voice slipped through the crack in the door.
“I know you’re in there, Kaelen. Open up.”
My grip tightened around the hilt of the blade as I stood, silently moving toward the door. Where had I heard that voice before? Could it be…?
The last time I’d seen him was during that confrontation with Taron. We’d crossed paths just twice, and both times, he’d left me on edge, hinting at games I didn’t even know I was playing. He wasn’t someone I could trust, and now he was here, outside my door, without Aria.
But now, here he was again, at my doorstep. And this time, he wasn’t just passing through.
I froze, my hand still on the door, trying to make sense of his presence. Why now? What game was he playing?If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
His voice came again, smooth and casual. “Kaelen, don’t make this difficult. Let me in, or I’ll start knocking louder.”
I opened the door cautiously, just enough to get a good look at him. He stood there, dressed in his usual dark cloak, his expression somewhere between smug and amused. His eyes gleamed with that familiar glint, the one that said he knew far more than he let on.
“Thorian,” I said, voice flat, still unsure how he fit into any of this. “What the hell are you doing here?”
His smirk widened slightly, as if he enjoyed the unease in my tone. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?” he asked, stepping past me and into the room without waiting for an invitation.
I shut the door behind him, every muscle in my body tense. I wasn’t used to being blindsided, especially not by someone like him.
“Friend?” I echoed, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Last I checked, you weren’t on anyone’s list of trustworthy companions. Or did I miss the part where we became best friends?”
Thorian chuckled, making himself comfortable. “Oh, come now, Kaelen. We both know that trust is a rare commodity these days. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work together.”
“Work together?” I crossed my arms, my eyes narrowing. “You seem to be forgetting something. I don’t trust you, and I don’t need whatever game you’re playing. So unless you’ve got something useful to say, you can leave the same way you came.”
Thorian’s expression didn’t waver. “You may not trust me,” he said calmly, “but you’re smart enough to know that our paths are crossing for a reason. Whether you like it or not, Kaelen, we’re connected now. Whatever power you’re starting to tap into, you’re going to need more than just your instincts to control it.”
I narrowed my eyes, crossing the room slowly, my instincts on high alert. “Why are you really here, Thorian? And why now? No Aria, no Council? How the hell did you even find me? More importantly, what’s an arcanist doing in Velithor, the city of technomancers?”
Thorian’s expression shifted, his usual smirk replaced by something colder, more calculating. “Oh, I have my ways. Velithor may be a city of technomancers, but it''s still a part of this world, and I tend to know my way around… wherever I need to be.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Aria’s not involved in this.”
I raised an eyebrow, my fingers drumming impatiently against the hilt of my blade. “I don’t buy it. You don’t seem the type to show up without an agenda.”
His eyes flicked around the room, lingering a moment longer on the clutter of notes and books scattered across the table. And then, his gaze landed on the Codex. The playful banter dropped from his expression entirely, replaced by an unsettling seriousness I hadn’t seen before.
He stepped forward, his hand slowly reaching toward the Codex, but I blocked his path, shifting to stand between him and the tome. His eyes flickered up to meet mine, sharp and dangerous.
“Where did you get that?” His voice was colder now, almost… distant.
I hesitated, unsure whether to answer, but his tone was different now. Not the casual, smug arrogance he wore like armor. This was something else—something that made the air in the room feel suddenly heavier.
“That’s none of your business,” I said, standing firm.
“Oh, but it is,” he replied, eyes narrowing. “Do you even realize what you have in your possession, Kaelen? That book... it’s not some common arcane text. It belongs to my people. To the Shadow Celestials.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Shadow Celestials? What does that even mean?”
Thorian’s eyes darkened, and he took a step closer. “It means that you’re holding a relic of immense power—one that’s been lost to the world for centuries. That Codex wasn’t meant for you, or anyone like you. It was created by the Shadow Celestials to unlock their knowledge, their abilities. If you keep tampering with it, you’ll draw attention from forces far more dangerous than anything you’ve faced.”
I stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “You’re saying this thing... belongs to your people? Why haven’t you tried to take it back?”
Thorian chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Because it’s no longer about who holds it. The moment you opened that Codex, it marked you. Whether you like it or not, you’re involved now. And trust me when I say, the path you’re on is far from safe.”
I clenched my jaw. “And what? You’re here to help? To save me from myself?”
He tilted his head slightly, a hint of his usual arrogance returning. “No. I’m here to make sure you don’t destroy everything in the process. There’s more at stake than just you, Kaelen. That Codex is dangerous, and if you continue down this path without understanding what you''re dealing with, you’ll make enemies far worse than me.”
I glanced back at the Codex, feeling its presence more keenly now, its weight on the room as if it had become something alive. “So what do you suggest, then? I’m not just handing it over to you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Thorian smirked again, but this time there was no humor in his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect you to. But you need to understand what you’re dealing with before it’s too late. The Shadow Celestials won’t ignore this forever. If they find out what you have, they’ll come for it, and for you. And they won’t ask nicely.”
I folded my arms, watching him carefully. “And what exactly do you get out of this, Thorian? Why do you care if I end up on their bad side?”
He stared at me for a long moment, and I saw a flicker of something else in his gaze. Something he was hiding.
“Let’s just say,” he said quietly, “that our interests align. For now.”
The silence between us was thick with tension, and I could feel the weight of the Codex pressing against the air, as if it was listening, waiting for something.
I frowned, not entirely convinced by his cryptic responses. “Shadow Celestials, huh? What exactly are they? Or better yet, what are you?”
Thorian’s gaze flickered, a brief hesitation before he responded. “The Shadow Celestials are... a part of Aether’s forgotten past. We existed in harmony with the Arcanists and the world of Aether long ago, until the day we were exiled by the very same Grand Council that still rules Aether today. Our connection to the darkness was seen as dangerous, unnatural. They feared what they couldn’t understand."
I narrowed my eyes, my voice edged with skepticism. "And what exactly didn’t they understand? Dark magic is dangerous. How could it ever have a place in Aether?"
Thorian let out a sharp breath, clearly exasperated. "Dark magic? Is that what you think this is?" His tone was biting, eyes flashing with frustration. "That''s just what they called it to justify their fear. It''s not dark, Kaelen—it''s different. It goes beyond the limits of shadow and darkness, yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s inherently evil."
My jaw tightened. "Different doesn’t mean safe. You expect me to believe this power isn’t dangerous?"
Thorian''s lips twisted into a sardonic smile. "Dangerous? Maybe. But so is every form of magic, and let’s not forget—you have the same kind of power coursing through your veins. Or are you so blinded by Aether’s self-righteousness that you can’t see it?"
My fists clenched, but before I could respond, Thorian’s voice dripped with sarcasm. "Tell me, what would Aria think? Or the almighty Council? Do you really believe they’d welcome a Veilborne into their precious, enlightened world once they knew what you really are?"
I felt the tension in my chest, but I kept my voice low, controlled. “I’m not them, Thorian. I don’t see things in black and white like the Council does. But if you think I’m going to trust you just because we share a connection to the shadows, you’re delusional.”
Thorian chuckled darkly, leaning back slightly as if enjoying the tension. “Oh, I never expected you to trust me. But you’re more like them than you think, Kaelen. Pretend all you want, but when the time comes, the Council will decide whether or not you''re a threat.”
My gaze hardened. "How is it that a Shadow Celestial, exiled and scorned by Aether, is now running errands for the Council? What are you really up to?"
Thorian smirked, tilting his head slightly as if amused by my curiosity. “You can thank Taron and Maelor for that. Seems they saw something in me. Potential, maybe. Or they were just desperate enough to use me. Either way, I’m here.”
I crossed my arms, feeling the skepticism settle deeper. "And you''re just… content, doing their dirty work? Doesn’t seem like your style."
Thorian’s eyes flickered with a hint of amusement, though his expression remained sharp. “Content? Let’s just say I understand the value of being useful to the right people. Taron vouched for me, and Maelor trusts me enough to give me important tasks. I’ve earned my place in Aether, Kaelen. Not everything is about personal gain; sometimes it’s about proving yourself.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re telling me that running errands for the Council suits you?”
Thorian chuckled softly, though his tone was more serious now. “It’s called doing what’s necessary. Aether needs strength, and I’m offering them mine. The Council sees my abilities as an asset, and that works for me. You think they let just anyone into their inner circle?”
I studied him, my skepticism not fading. “And you don’t feel like they’re keeping you on a leash?”
Thorian’s smile grew faint, almost contemplative. “We all serve a purpose, Kaelen. The Council’s tasks may not always align with what I’d choose, but I serve Aether. That’s what matters. The world isn’t as simple as good and bad, light and shadow. There’s a balance to maintain, and I’m part of that balance.”
I couldn’t shake the doubt, though curiosity crept in. “You’ve never been one to follow orders without a plan of your own.”
Thorian’s eyes darkened slightly, though his voice remained measured. “I don’t have the luxury of questioning everything. I do what’s necessary to keep Aether strong, to protect what we still have. You may not understand it, but loyalty to Aether isn’t a choice for me—it’s survival.”
My frown deepened, his words pulling at something inside me. “And what about me? If you’re so dedicated to Aether, why keep secrets about what I am?”
Thorian’s smile returned, colder this time. “Because they wouldn’t understand. To them, anything that strays from their neatly defined boundaries is a threat. You, with your connection to the Veil... let’s just say they’d be cautious. Aria might trust you, but the Council? They’re not as forgiving.”
I clenched my jaw, frustration welling up. “So what are you saying? That I should hide what I am?”
Thorian leaned in slightly, his tone dropping to something almost like a warning. “I’m saying that in this world, power comes with consequences. You’re walking a fine line, Kaelen. The Council’s watching, always. And if they knew the full extent of your abilities... well, let’s just say things could get complicated. You’re valuable to them, but only as long as they can control you.”
I felt the fire in my voice. “And you think I’m going to let them control me?”
Thorian’s smile didn’t falter. “Not if you’re smart. But remember, Kaelen, loyalty goes both ways. You’ve got a place in Aether as long as they think they can trust you. Betray that, and you’ll find out how quickly they’ll turn.”
I met his gaze, the tension thick between us. “I’m not hiding anything. I’ll face them if I have to.”
Thorian’s eyes glittered with something unreadable. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Despite myself, I couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to his story. “You’ve danced around a lot of things. But why did you abandon your clan? The Shadow Celestials were your people.”
His expression darkened immediately, something raw flashing across his face. I thought I had struck a nerve too deep, but he recovered quickly, his smile returning—though this time, it held no humor.
“You’re asking too many questions, Kaelen,” Thorian replied, his voice colder now. “We’re not friends. You made that clear yourself.”
I stood firm as he turned toward the door, clearly preparing to leave. The air between us hung heavy with unsaid things.
Just before stepping through the threshold, Thorian glanced back with a wry, half-smirk. “But since I’m in a generous mood today, I’ll give you something. Consider yourself lucky.”
I raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for whatever he was about to reveal.
“You want to know why I’m here, why I showed up at your doorstep?” Thorian’s voice lowered, almost conspiratorial. “You unlocked something—something powerful when you meddled with that book of yours. I felt it. Like a flare in the darkness.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”
His gaze sharpened, the weight of his words pressing down. “Your little experiment? It resonated. Strongly. It’s a beacon to someone like me—a Shadow Celestial. You might not fully understand what you’ve got there, but trust me... it was like a lighthouse shining in the darkest night.”
Realization hit me like a punch. I had unknowingly sent a signal out into the world, a signal that Thorian, and maybe others like him, could sense.
Thorian’s smirk deepened as he turned fully toward the door. “Keep playing with that book, Kaelen. You might find more than you bargained for.”
And with that, he was gone, leaving me alone with the uneasy knowledge that my actions had drawn far more attention than I had ever intended.