A Melody of Shadows.
Solmere — A quiet, mist-covered kingdom known for its crystal towers and ancient star magic. Once bright, now fading.
The cart's wheels clattered over the bridge, leading into the city square. Solmere's execution grounds sprawled before them—a vast plaza of cobblestones and towering statues of past kings, draped in banners of black and silver. The crowd gathered in tight knots, a sea of curious faces and hostile murmurs, their voices rising as the prisoners were dragged toward the massive guillotine, its blade glinting under the sunlight like a promise of death.
Kaelira's gaze swept the plaza, calculating angles of escape. Guards were stationed everywhere by the gates, near the scaffold, and even in the balconies above. Every movement of the crowd and the soldiers had been anticipated. Escape would be impossible… At least, if time ran its ordinary course.
Edward: "You know, for people about to meet death, this city sure has a nice view."
Kaelira shot him a look sharp enough to cut through steel.
Kaelira: "Shut up and keep your head down, idiot. One wrong move…"
Edward grinning "Relax, I'll keep my head attached… mostly."
From across the plaza, atop the grand stage erected for the festival, a lone figure stepped into the torchlight. The audience barely noticed at first all eyes fixated on the impending execution.
Alan West.
He adjusted the collar of his black coat and lifted a violin, its polished wood catching the sun in a single, sharp gleam. A silver bow lay across the strings like a blade poised to strike. His mask hid half his face, but not the intensity in his eyes—the quiet weight of someone who had seen too much of the world yet still chose to act.
The first note struck—a single, piercing sound that carried through the plaza like a blade. The crowd's chatter faltered. A hush descended, the kind that carries fear and awe in equal measure.
Alan's bow moved with precision, each note swelling into a dramatic melody. The music was alive, twisting through the air, wrapping around the crowd, the soldiers, the prisoners. It was not merely sound but a tangible presence, almost a weapon.
Kaelira's eyes flicked toward the stage, her mind processing the impossible—the figure playing the violin with such intensity, such emotion, that even the guards paused for a fraction of a heartbeat.
Edward's gaze followed hers, wide-eyed.
Edward: "Is… is that…?"
Kaelira only frowned. Focus. Escape. Survival.
A trumpet's blare cut through the music as a horseman broke through the crowd. The crowd instinctively parted, murmuring. Black-and-silver armour glinted in the sun, and the figure atop the stallion radiated authority and menace.
General Louis.
He dismounted with an unnerving grace, the polished boots of his armour clicking against the stone. His eyes locked onto Kaelira and Edward. He smiled, slow, cruel, and confident.
Louis (loudly): "These are the wanted criminals of Solmere. Cursed magic users who have committed atrocities. Today… they will be punished."
The crowd erupted.
Crowd: "Kill them! Kill them!"
Kaelira's jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing at Louis. He met her gaze, unflinching, a predator relishing the hunt.
Ropes were fastened. The prisoners were dragged toward the guillotine, the massive blade hanging ominously above their heads.
Louis (whispering to Kaelira): "How pitiful."
Kaelira's lips pressed into a line. Edward glanced at her, worry crossing his face.
Edward: "This… doesn't look good, you know."
Kaelira gave a sharp look.
Kaelira: "Focus. Don't… talk."
Alan's music grew in intensity, each note a blade, each bow stroke a heartbeat that thundered in every chest. Tears glistened in the eyes of nobles and peasants alike, moved by the inexplicable power of the melody, though few understood why. Even the sun seemed to hesitate, casting long shadows that twisted unnaturally across the plaza.
The executioner's hand hovered over the release lever. The rope creaked.
Alan's melody twisted darker, faster, the rhythm beating like a war drum.
Then, a deafening explosion shattered the city's calm.
The clock tower erupted into fire and splinters, sending shockwaves through the streets. One by one, fires bloomed in distant districts. Panic rippled across the plaza.
Louis "What the…!"
The crowd surged in chaos, screams mixing with the ringing of bells and the roar of collapsing structures. The executioner flinched, and in that instant, the guillotine's rope slipped. The blade fell…
But a shadow intervened.
A girl in black assassin's attire leapt into the air, landing on the platform with a fluid motion. Her boot connected with the falling blade, halting its descent inches from Edward's neck.
Edward wide-eyed: "I knew it! I knew it!"
Kaelira exasperated: "You idiot, Edward!"
Edward asked "Eris! Why did it take so long?!"
Eris smirking "Dramatic entrances take time, you know… but right on schedule."
Louis roared, eyes burning with rage. Crimson veins of magic spread across his forearms as he raised his hands, and blood blades formed—knives of his own life essence hurled like deadly missiles.
Kaelira reacted instantly, summoning her dual blades. Each movement was precise. A block, a parry, a counterattack that sent a blood knife spinning into the air harmlessly. Edward's swordsmanship complemented hers, deflecting and slashing with fluid, practised motions. Eris struck from the shadows, forming dark, ethereal blades that shredded the air around Louis.
Louis laughing manically "Do you truly think three fools can defeat me?! Hahaha!"
He raised his arms, consuming the panic and blood of the fleeing crowd. From it, hundreds of blood weapons erupted—spears, swords, and daggers - all pointed at the trio.
Kaelira shouted: "Block!"
Shields clanged, swords met blood knives, and shadows twisted around Eris' attacks. Steel and magic collided with explosive force. Dust and debris filled the air.
Then, a chilling darkness began to seep from the surrounding fires. Shadows grew, twisting into tangible forms. The city itself seemed to recoil, as if recognising a greater power had arrived.
The city's chaos seemed to pause, as if the flames themselves were holding their breath. Louis' eyes darted around, trying to find the source of the dread that suddenly gripped him. And then he saw him
From the heart of the flames and shadows, Alan appeared. Alone. Violin in his hand. His music carried through the chaos, slicing through Louis' blood magic with precision.
Every note that Alan drew from his violin was not music. It was a blade. A storm. A force that twisted reality around it. Shadows coiled and danced, slicing through the air like vipers. The blood knives that Louis had conjured froze mid-flight, their edges flickering as if afraid to strike.
Louis froze. Fear, raw and unfiltered, shone in his eyes.
Louis: "Who… are you?!"
Alan's bow danced, and every note struck with inhuman speed and strength. Every attack Louis launched was countered or dodged with impossible reflexes. Shadows became extensions of Alan's body, forming knives, whips, and spears of pure darkness that stabbed through Louis' blood armour.
Louis' confident smirk faltered. A tremor ran through his body, and for the first time, the black-and-silver armour that had always made him appear invincible felt like a cage of glass.
Alan stepped forward with unnerving calm, the shadows moving as extensions of his will. They coiled around Louis' weapons, bending them, absorbing them, ripping them away with a whisper of smoke, and a scream of metal. The general staggered back, his eyes wide, body trembling.
Louis panic rising "N-n-no… this isn't… I'm… I'm invincible!"
But he wasn't.
A shadow knife pierced Louis' chest, and he fell to his knees, trembling.
Louis: "Please… I… I didn't… don't… I beg you!
Please… I… I'm sorry! I'll do anything! Spare me! I beg you!"
Alan stepped forward, and the mask was finally removed. His eyes were calm, cold.
Alan: "Why should I ?"
Louis' voice cracked, terror overtaking him.
"I… I'm sorry! Please! Give me a chance!"
Alan: "Why not? Sure."
Alan drew his silver dagger. The dagger moved faster than the eye could follow. Shadows guided its path, ensuring a clean strike. In a single, fluid motion, Louis' throat was cut. Blood sprayed across Alan's face, crimson against the darkness, but his expression remained unreadable, a monolith of calm amidst chaos.
Alan coldly " A chance to die."
Alan softly wiped the blood on his dagger, the faint metallic smear reflecting in his calm, unreadable eyes. "Louis… I warned you once. I don't repeat myself. You stepped into my path, and I opened your throat.
What a quiet end for you… dying without even the strength to scream."
Louis's breath faded, but his eyes kept shaking… unable to escape from the cold emptiness in Alan's stare.
The crowd was frozen, whispers of fear spreading like wildfire. Soldiers and citizens alike could not comprehend what they had just witnessed. One man General Louis, feared and invincible—destroyed not by brutal force, but by a presence so terrifying that even his blood magic could not stand.
Kaelira and Edward stared, panting, wide-eyed, hearts racing. Eris landed silently beside them.
The shadows recoiled, leaving Alan standing, silent, and terrifyingly calm.
Eris "That's Alan."
Kaelira's jaw clenched.
Kaelira's heart lurched, her breath catching as if the world had stopped. She pushed forward through the crowd, her voice breaking in a whisper.
"Alan…"
Alan stood in the square, violin still trembling in his hands, the final note fading like a ghost. His eyes—distant, shadowed—lifted just enough to meet hers. For a heartbeat, the noise of Solmere seemed to vanish.
Kaelira leaned closer, desperate, her voice low but with pain.
"Why are you here? Why did you leave us?"
Edward stepped forward, urgency in his tone.
"Alan, listen—we've been searching everywhere for you. Whatever reason you had, you don't have to carry it alone!"
Alan's grip on the violin tightened. His lips parted as if to speak, but before he could—
A shout tore through the streets.
"Soldiers! Seal the square!"
Armoured boots thundered. The crowd erupted in panic. Soldiers poured in from every corner, shields gleaming, blades drawn.
Kaelira reached toward Alan, her eyes burning.
"Alan, come with us!"
The soldiers surged closer. Edward grabbed Kaelira's arm.
"We have to move—now!"
"No!" she snapped, pulling free, still reaching for Alan.
Edward gritted his teeth, dragging her away as soldiers closed in.
"We'll lose everything if we stay! Kaelira, move!"
With no choice, the trio broke into a desperate sprint through the twisting alleys of Solmere, chased by steel and flame.
The trio turned, while the echoes of Alan's violin still hung in the air—dramatic, haunting, eternal.
Alan disappears into the shadows...