As I was talking to the shadows, they suddenly disappeared.
A moment later the humanoid shadow appeared.
Again infront of me
"Well, you need to act fast. So—interested in learning mythical magic I can teach you?" a voice that sounded like rusted iron grinding against itself came impossibly from the thing's mouth. It asked with a silly smile.
"What—why did you suddenly disappeared ? What are you…" I stammered.
I was interrupted.
"Behind you. Fast," it said in an instant, but it lacked emotion, like a voice played on a recorder at maximum speed.
That thing—emotionless—sent an alarm bell through my mind.
I turned to see him behind me.
He moved like someone who had practiced stillness until it became a weapon—calm on the surface, every small motion measured. Pale hair fell over one eye; the other, a single burning red, watched the target with cold, clinical interest. A tiny black star marked his cheek like punctuation at the end of a sentence that finishes in violence. Around his throat, a red scarf (or ribbon) whispered with each breath, and thin red strands of light—whether actual ribbons or the last of his nerves made visible—coiled and uncoiled, framing him like a halo of danger.
He brought his hand up and the air answered like a blade. There was no metal flash—just a clean, hungry line of nothing that moved with the precision of a ledgered debt. My eyes caught the tiny warping of light at the edge of my vision and froze for the length of a heartbeat. He swung. The invisible dagger cleaved the space between us with a soft, sibilant hiss that sounded almost like a breath. A sleeve parted, fabric tore, and I staggered back—shock painted on my face—because the world now contained a wound with no visible weapon to explain it.
Just as my life flashed before my eyes, the humanoid shadow entered my body. My surroundings took on a black tint; everything felt clearer, and I thought I was stronger—though I wasn't sure. My body slowly moved on its own; I was too stunned to stop it.
As my body barely avoided another attack I could not see, it moved again with speed and skill I shouldn't have had. Back home I barely saw the sun.
My hand closed on the assassin's, the one holding the invisible weapon.
My eyes went dark; all light shut out for a moment. My mouth began to speak words I didn't even know a human mouth could make.
It only stopped when something unseen pierced my mouth. The pain was surprisingly tame ,but burning it was not unbearable—and I was more frightened than hurt.
I don't even know how he did it. He had barely moved. I staggered back as his other arm broke free and he tried to swing—but the armory's cramped space forced the hooded individual to risk the attempt and come closer. He missed; the attack sent a dagger clattering to the floor.
I looked around and realized the only reason I was alive was that the armory had been cramped. It forced the attacker to risk the attempt and close the distance.
But he reacted , he stopped chant too late. The shadows around the room moved, and I noticed that only now he was aware of them—he hadn't been able to see them before.
The shadows crossed into reality, morphing into inhuman geometric shapes that flew around him and restrained his limbs like shackles, pinning him to shelves with restraints that defied sense. Needles grew from parts of them and pierced him. He became paler and paler; he screamed as his body was drained.
As he was being drained, I suddenly felt reinvigorated—like a sensation I honestly had no comparison for, but it was addictive. Suddenly my body, which had felt looked like a corpse, regenerated. Looking ,as if it was never hurt only blood remains
The assassin's face showed emotion for the first time: absolute horror. He tried to break free with more vigor than before, but his attempts carried less power; even his will grew weaker. Despair, followed by a resolve I hadn't seen before, washed over him.
As the shadows dug deeper into his body like hungry syringes, his face filled with despair. His pale hand glowed blue; a powerful shockwave from his arm followed.
That probably saved me. The shockwave cleared the area around him, tearing his hand and shadow manifestations alongside it; he was thrown back, losing an arm. I was thrown and landed on my back.
I barely managed to stand. I no longer felt like an observer in my own body; I had to act deliberately again. I looked around frantically and saw the humanoid shadow smiling at me.
As he met my eyes he pointed at something, holding an obsidian sheet with words written on it.
"Say this is real and the rest will help—well, magical aid will arrive," the words formed mockingly in front of me.
I looked at the assassin; he had somehow managed to stand. He looked at me like a terrifying monster, but seeing my panicked, fearful face he gripped the dagger and moved toward me fast.
This isn't real, I thought again and again, but as he got closer I gave in.
"Fine—it's real. You psycho, do whatever you did again, fast!" I screamed to myself.
The assassin stopped for a moment, caught off guard.
Suddenly my face smiled on its own, as enjoying the unexpected turn of events—my mouth opened, about to start chanting something. Unexpectedly, the moment assassin saw the change in my face and heard footsteps outside, he turned around and ran.
The only thing left from the encounter was the torn red scarf.
My smile turned into an extreme coughing fit as something left me: a shroud of smoke. It formed a humanoid shadow; it turned and looked at me, kneeling on the floor and dealing with the backlash of whatever it had done, frowning in disappointment.
Then it looked toward where the assassin had fled, with mild amusement.
I stood, wiping some of blood myself; I felt surprisingly much better.
Footsteps sounded behind me. The shadow figure smiled, pleased with what it had done; it stared as if waiting for my thanks.
Instead I asked, "Who is he, and how did he reach this place? Isn't this supposed to be the duke's residence?" I let my frustration out, covered in sweat and with dulled eyes.
I couldn't stay here whatever it was. I needed to go home. I might not have much to return to, but at least it would be safe—that thought looped in my head for the rest of the day.
I turned and saw the petrified guards. I gestured, asking what had happened; they nearly took a step back, breathless.
"We are sorry. We hope you forgive us—our failure—it won't happen again," one stuttered.
"An attempt on His Excellency was made. Search every nook," another said, still trembling.
"Tell them to stop the celebration and initiate a lockdown," the humanoid shadow formed an obsidian sheet of words in front of me.
I did ,as it ask I don't care about celebration,and I need it to answer my questions later
"As you wish, Your Excellency…" the guard replied shakily.
"And leave me alone for moment,I need time to gather my thoughts,I would appreciate if no one interprets me "
"I can't leave you alone—your Excellency. You being alone in the first place was unnatural and…special. After all that I just can't," the guard panicked.
I stared at him like I'd stared at the humanoid shadow.
He did not argue again and left
I turned and looked at human shadow
"No more interpretations. I am not leaving this place without a clear understanding of what the f— is going on," I snarled, letting anger take control of me for first time in a long while. I felt like I was burning from the inside. I was in pain and confused. "This stops now. No more games."