Caldera Docks was thick with the stench of blood. Magnus Caldryn sat on a splintered crate, ragged breaths ripping from him, every muscle screaming in pain. His twin shadow sabers lay across his lap, their dark aura dimmed — mirroring his nearly empty dantian. The shadow qi that had fueled his Shadow Dance was spent; because his dantian was almost void, his body trembled with exhaustion. A crossbow bolt lodged in Magnus's thigh sent searing pain through his leg.
"Shit — it hurts," he growled, his voice hoarse.
His crimson eyes still held a predatory aura that could make any non-aura user tremble. Despite his fatigue he scanned the bloody massacre. The Gilded Ledger mercenaries lay scattered, their bodies broken by his shadow sabers. The woman with the quill ring, their courier, had slipped away, as had the robed figure clutching Torren's stolen ledger. In the chaos, though, Magnus and Rhea had secured a sealed scroll stamped with the Valisar Kingdom insignia — a beacon in the dark: a conspiracy threatening House Caldryn.
Gritting his teeth, Magnus gripped the bolt in his thigh. "Argh, fu—" he snarled as he ripped it free. Blood fountained; he shoved his hand into the wound and pressed hard to staunch it. Pain buckled him. From his back pocket he withdrew a small vial of shimmering green liquid — a healing elixir he had purchased before the attack, because he'd known he might get hurt. He poured it into the wound; it hissed and burned, sealing torn flesh with a faint sizzle.
"Ah… it's working. Thanks to the elixir," he breathed as he swallowed more to mend the bruising from the battle. The elixir's warmth spread through his body. "Feeling better now," he said, though he knew he'd need days to recover fully.
Rhea Varyn emerged from the shadows, raven hair disheveled, a shallow cut on her arm bandaged with a strip of cloth. Her gray eyes flicked to the pool of blood at Magnus's feet. "Looks like that crossbow bolt got you good."
"Yeah. My awareness blanked for a few seconds and this happened. It'll heal. I poured healing elixir, so it's alright. What did you find?" he asked.
"Found this on one of the mercenaries," she said, tossing the scroll to him. He opened and read it. "It's from Valisar points to the undercity, a criminal hub. Not just Gilded Ledger lackeys: smugglers, gangs, assassins."
In his mind: did old Magnus gamble, or what?
With the signed scroll in his trembling fingers, Magnus listened as Rhea added, "Valisar's undercity is a labyrinth of tunnels and black markets." His mind flashed back to a past life Alex Laurus, contracted to kill a corrupt noble in Valisar's depths. The job had gone smoothly until someone saw Alex on the roof; the alarm rang and the city's criminal goons chased him for days. Back to today, Magnus said, "Valisar's going to be tough."
"The capital is a hornet's nest," Rhea replied. "If you poke the whole horde, they'll come to decimate you. If we go, be careful."
Magnus only smiled, lips curling into something sinister despite the pain. "Fun or not, we're going. The Gilded Ledger's master and that woman are there, pulling strings from their dens. We find them, we kill that bastard of a master, and we catch that woman." In his head he vowed, what Old Magnus started in Valisar, he would finish. "We end this for good."
"And burn the bodies we should clear the traces," Rhea said. She dragged the mercenaries' corpses into a heap, threw kerosene over them, and struck a torch. Fire erupted. "Rest in hell, you bastards."
With that, Magnus and Rhea slipped away toward the castle. "Rhea, we'll leave for Valisar in a few days. Train your body it's going to be bloody," he told her.
By the time he reached his chamber, the city's nightlife had quieted; Caldera's revelry faded into the soft hum of night. Rhea melted into the shadows as he opened his door. He placed his twin shadow sabers near the table and collapsed onto his bed. Hera Skaling appeared, doe-eyed; she widened at his bloodied state.
"My lord! You're hurt—" she began.
Magnus put a hand over her mouth. "Quiet, Hera," he said, softer than usual. "Prepare the bath for me, and don't tell Mother about this, okay? I'll wash and then throw the clothes in the laundry."
Hera hesitated, then nodded and scurried to comply. The hot water eased his aches, but the crossbow wound still throbbed. "Ahmm… shit," he murmured a reminder of his limits. Hera laid out fresh clothes; he dressed in night garb. "It was a bizarre night," he thought as he closed his eyes to recover his dantian.
At dawn, in the Caldryn garden, someone was exercising. Magnus Caldryn was doing push-ups to build his arms and crunches for his abdomen; he avoided leg exercises because of the injury. "Shit can't do leg work." Back in his chamber he called for Hera. "Prepare the bath."
"It's already ready for you, my lord," she replied. He bathed, dressed in a clean royal tunic, and steeled himself for the confrontation ahead.
He needed to inform his father about the raid and the scroll to prepare House Caldryn for the storm he intended to unleash on Valisar. His silver-streaked hair caught the candlelight as he entered his father's chamber; his obsidian eyes flicked upward.
Everard's gaze sharpened at the sight of Magnus limping. "Why are you limping like that, boy?" his father demanded, voice sharp with suspicion. "What in the hells did you do now? Hit someone in a fight again?"
Magnus smiled, shaking his head. "First don't tell Mother about this, please. I took a crossbow bolt in the leg during a raid on the Gilded Ledger's deal at the docks. It'll heal in a few days. Forget about it." He placed the Valisar scroll on the table, the insignia stark against the parchment. "This is what matters. It's from the capital points to a criminal den in the undercity. The Gilded Ledger's strings lead to Valisar. I'm going to find them."
Everard's eyes widened and his hand gripped the table. "Valisar? A crossbow bolt? Magnus, you're not a soldier you barely recovered from whatever madness changed you! And now you're chasing conspiracies into the capital's underbelly? This isn't a tavern brawl you can shrug off it can kill you."
Magnus stood taller, ignoring the pain. "I know what I did, Father. I raided their dockside deal, killed their mercenaries, and got this scroll. The woman with the quill ring escaped she's their courier. The Gilded Ledger hired the Black Veil to poison me, to frame me for Mr. Torren's murder and weaken our house. Wait a few days for me to heal, then when I arrive in Valisar they'll see my wrath."
Everard studied him, stern features wrestling with disbelief and, reluctantly, a flicker of pride. A slight smile softened him. "You're either a fool or something else entirely," he said finally. "In a few days, go to Valisar but don't die like a fool. And your mother will kill me for letting you. House Caldryn needs you more than I thought possible."
Magnus nodded and began to turn, but Everard's voice stopped him. "And Magnus? If you limp into my hall again, you'd better have that bastard's head in your hands."
A grim smile crossed Magnus's lips. "Count on it, Father."
After he left his father's chamber, stretching his body, Magnus settled into his meditation. It was time for the Second Awakening of his shadow qi. He sat cross-legged, breathing slow and deep.
Magnus Caldryn had set his target: Valisar. The storm he would bring was about to rise and shake the entire city.
To be continued in Chapter 9…