Shallow Blood ™ Chapter 2: Daybreak
Morning sunlight slipped through the curtains of my room, casting golden stripes across the wooden floor. But the warmth couldn't touch the weight in my chest—a tangle of shadows from the vision of Lord Jitara, his cryptic offer, Dylan's unanswered question, and the strange black spade card that haunted my thoughts.
I moved to the small desk by the window, my hand trembling as I scrawled a note for Dylan, Hakari, and John: I need to find myself. Don't worry. I'll return. The words felt fragile, a promise I wasn't sure I could keep. I folded the paper and left it on my bed, then turned toward Murphy's weapon room.
Kinslayer hung on the rack, its blackened hilt glinting faintly in the morning light, as if it knew the path I was about to take. My fingers brushed the doorframe, and a faint tingle sparked through me—something ancient, powerful, and unfamiliar. As I reached for the sword, my eyes caught a single black card on a shelf, marked with a sign: Positively Do Not Open. I hesitated, my gut twisting, then turned to leave. But somehow, unnoticed, the card slipped into my pocket, as if drawn to me by some unseen force.
I need space… time… to see who I really am, I thought. Not the magicless boy everyone overlooks, but me.
I strapped Kinslayer to my back, its weight grounding me, and slid the sheath across my side. Grabbing a travel bag, I checked it twice before slipping out of the house. The streets of the Infernals were quiet, save for the occasional merchant or messenger stirring in the early dawn. The city hummed softly, but to me, the air felt taut, like the world was holding its breath.
At the massive gates separating the Infernals from the forbidden land of Espada, two guards blocked my path, their armor clinking as they stepped forward. The morning sun glinted off their swords, sharp and unyielding.
"Where do you think you're going, boy?" the first guard demanded.
"The land of Espada is forbidden," the second added, eyes narrowing. "You know that."
My chest tightened, but I squared my shoulders, meeting their gazes. "I have business in Espada. It's… personal."
They exchanged a glance, their skepticism almost tangible.
"Personal business?" the first guard mocked. "With what? Your fists? Your… nothing? You're magicless. You won't survive there."
I took a slow breath, letting their words slide off me like water over stone. "I'm not asking for your permission. I'm going whether you like it or not."
The second guard's lips twitched, a flicker of respect in his eyes. "You've got guts, kid. I'll give you that. But step through that gate… there's no turning back."
I held his gaze, feeling the weight of my choice settle over me like a mantle. Beneath it burned something fiercer—determination I hadn't fully embraced until now. "I'm aware. But I have to do this. I need to find out who I am."
Time stretched, the morning wind whistling against the gates as if urging me forward. Then, slowly, the guards stepped aside.
My boots clanged softly against the stone as I crossed the threshold. The land of Espada greeted me with a stark, unforgiving contrast to the Infernals' towering spires. Jagged cliffs loomed where smooth towers once stood, and a cold wind carried the scent of ash and distant smoke. The ground was cracked and uneven, forcing me to tread carefully. Nature here was sharp, merciless.
Every sense sharpened. The wind whispered strange, almost vocal sounds, and the sky hung pale and gray, as if mourning the desolation below. High above, birds circled, their cries distant and haunting. My eyes scanned the horizon, alert for any sign of life—or danger.
"Good luck, kid," the first guard called after me. "You're going to need it."
I didn't look back. The words barely registered over the pounding of my heart. Each step into Espada was a step away from my past and toward something uncertain but necessary. Kinslayer's weight against my back felt heavy yet reassuring, a silent companion for the trials ahead.
I paused, glancing down at the black spade card now in my pocket. It pulsed faintly, almost alive, as if it knew this crossing was only the beginning. A shiver ran through me, but I clenched my fist around it and pressed on.
The landscape stretched endlessly before me: jagged mountains, mist-shrouded valleys, and ruins half-swallowed by wild growth. Shadows danced across the rocks as the morning sun struggled to pierce the dense clouds. Every step carried risk, every movement felt watched, every sound held a warning.
And yet, for the first time in my life, I felt alive. Not because of power or recognition, but because this was my path.
The land of Espada awaited, indifferent to who I was—or who I would become.
To Be Continued…