The mask sat on Elias's table like an accusation, its pale surface catching the candlelight. The jagged runes etched across it pulsed faintly, echoing the silence that had nearly suffocated him in the alleys. Shade curled protectively at his feet, tendrils twitching, while the second shadow leaned against the wall, crimson edges restless.
Sleep had not come. Even when he closed his eyes, Elias felt the fog pressing in, the synchronized footsteps of the Silent Choir echoing in memory.
The Codex, sprawled open, whispered. You have crossed the threshold. The Choir has marked you, and others will take notice. In Grimwald, shadows are not merely feared—they are measured.
Elias leaned forward. "Measured?"
The factions of this city keep a ledger, Elias. They categorize every wielder of forbidden power. Strength, obedience, danger. You are no longer unseen. You are entered into the Ledger of Shadows.
---
The Ledger
By midday, Elias forced himself into the city again. Fog hung low, heavy as the previous night, though the streets bustled regardless. The Iron Canal smelled of oil and damp stone. Merchants shouted from their carts, though their words faltered when their eyes lingered on him. Whispers followed, sharper now.
"Two shadows, they say."
"Marked by the Choir."
"Ledger will list him high."
Elias clenched his jaw. Ledger. More than rumor.
He headed toward the Broken Lantern tavern, a haunt of informants. Inside, smoke curled from cheap torches. Dice clattered across tables. At the bar, a woman with copper hair and mismatched eyes—one gray, one green—caught his approach.
"You've stirred the Choir," she said without preamble, her tone both amused and sharp. "Not many walk away with one of their masks intact."
Elias set the mask on the counter. "Tell me about the Ledger."
The woman's mismatched eyes flicked to the mask, then back to him. She leaned closer, voice low. "Every faction contributes. The Ledger is not written on paper. It's passed through whispers, marks, runes. It categorizes shadow-bearers like you."
"Categories?" Elias pressed.
She ticked them off with her fingers. "Echoes—those who've touched a shadow but never bound it. Rarely survive. Wraiths—those with a single binding. Dangerous, but manageable. Choir-fodder."
Her lips quirked as her eyes dropped to the mask. "Then there are Duskbinders—two or more bound, enough to draw faction attention. That's you. From here, the path only narrows."
Elias frowned. "What comes after Duskbinder?"
Her smile thinned. "Names whispered, never spoken aloud. Ledger speaks of Voidsingers, Umbra Lords, and at the end… Shadow Sovereigns. Legends. Some say no one has truly reached that tier."
The Codex purred darkly. Shadow Sovereign. The title awaits you, Elias. A throne made of silence and darkness.
---
Factional Reactions
Elias left the tavern with more than the taste of smoke in his mouth. The Ledger was not rumor—it was law, unwritten but binding. Already, he felt eyes on him.
At the crossroads, a trio of robed figures from the Alchemists' Guild paused to stare. One traced a rune in the air as though measuring him. In the markets, mercenaries whispered and drew symbols on their palms. The mask of the Choir at his side might as well have been a beacon.
By evening, Corvan appeared once again, stepping from the mouth of a narrow alley like a shadow himself.
"They've ranked you," Corvan said simply.
Elias narrowed his eyes. "Duskbinder."
Corvan inclined his head. "The Choir announced it. The Ledger accepted it. You are no longer anonymous. Every faction in Grimwald will now test you—probe your strength, weigh your will. Some will recruit, others will hunt."
Elias's hand brushed the Codex. "And you?"
Corvan's pale eyes gleamed faintly. "I watch. The Ledger is not perfect. But I suspect you won't stay a Duskbinder for long."
---
Mark of the Choir
That night, Elias returned home only to find the mask gone. Shade hissed, tendrils slashing across the room. The second shadow pulsed crimson, restless. But on the table where the mask had rested, a new mark had been left.
A circle of ash, jagged lines carved into wood. The Choir's symbol.
The Codex whispered with dark amusement. They have not abandoned you. They are reminding you. Once marked, you are never free.
Elias's fists tightened. "They want me to fear them."
Fear is a chain, the Codex purred. But chains are meant to be broken.
---
Testing the Boundaries
Over the following days, the tests began.
A duel in the marketplace against a guild enforcer who demanded Elias "prove his binding."
A priest of the Sunlit Order declaring him cursed and attempting exorcism by fire.
An assassin slipping through his window with poisoned daggers, only to vanish beneath Shade's tendrils.
Each time, Elias survived. Each time, whispers grew louder. "The Duskbinder endures."
But each fight cost him. Shadows strained. His body ached. The Codex's whispers grew sharper, hungrier.
"You must bind more," it urged. "Each shadow strengthens the chain. Each chain strengthens you."
Elias stared into the fog outside his window. Ninety-eight shadows remained. Ninety-eight battles between survival and silence.
---
The Codex's Warning
On the fifth night after the Choir's attack, Elias opened the Codex. The pages shifted, forming new words.
The Ledger watches. But beware, Elias. Once a name is inked in whispers, it cannot be erased. To climb is to burn brighter. To burn brighter is to draw every moth, every flame, every knife in the city. Do you accept this path?
Elias touched the page, shadows pulsing at his command. Shade curled close. The second shadow loomed, crimson sharp and loyal.
"I don't accept it," he whispered. "I claim it. If the Ledger wants my name, let them write it deeper. I'll climb their ranks until no one dares erase me."
The Codex pulsed, pages fluttering like wings. Then prepare. The next shadow waits. And with it, your name will spread beyond Grimwald.
Outside, the fog shifted, carrying whispers through the city:
"The Duskbinder rises."
---