Chapter 50: Shadows at the Gate

The sound of the warning horns tore through the fortress like a wail from the underworld. Serena jolted upright where she stood near the battlement, the chill wind whipping strands of her hair loose from the braid she'd tied that morning.

Across the valley, black shapes emerged from the mist—moving fast, furious, and many.

“Shades,” Rylan muttered, squinting through the gloom. “But this... this is more than before.”

King Theron stood beside him, the tension in his jaw a silent drumbeat. His eyes, that stormy steel grey, remained fixed on the oncoming tide. “Too early. They weren't supposed to strike again for at least another week.”

“They changed tactics,” Serena said. “They’re adapting.”

And then she felt it.

That cold pulse.

The strange, familiar pull tugging at the back of her mind like a forgotten memory scratching at the surface. Her hand instinctively went to the mark etched into her shoulder—hidden beneath layers of fabric, but pulsing, alive.

“They’re here for me.”

Rylan turned to her. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I can feel them. Calling to me.”

Theron’s voice dropped, protective. “Then you stay with me. I won’t risk losing you.”

She met his gaze, heat rising unexpectedly between them. There were things they still hadn’t spoken about—moments when the air between them thickened with something more than duty. But now wasn't the time to open old doors. Not when new ones were burning down.

Below them, the first impact exploded.

A thundering crack as the outer barrier shattered like glass, sending tremors through the stone beneath their feet. Screams echoed from the western corridor. Firelight painted the walls orange.

Rylan drew his blade. “To the east wing. That’s the fallback point.”

“No,” Serena said, even as her legs tensed to run. “We need to buy the others time. The scholars, the healers—they're in the west hall.”

Theron looked at her. “Then we go.”

The three of them descended into chaos.

Smoke and flame twisted in the air like a dragon’s breath. Shadows—creatures that had once been men—poured through the breach. They were faster now. More coordinated. Their eyes glowed with eerie hunger.

Serena ducked as a shade lunged at her, its claws barely missing her shoulder. She spun, summoned the flicker of light inside her palms, and released it in a burst. The creature screeched, stumbling back.

They fought side by side—Theron’s sword gleaming, Rylan’s daggers whirling, Serena’s magic blazing like a second sun. But they were outnumbered. For every shadow that fell, two more slithered forward.

Then, a new presence stepped through the flames.

A towering figure in black armor—etched with runes Serena didn’t recognize. He carried no weapon, but shadows coiled around his body like loyal pets. And beside him...

Serena froze.

It was her. Or someone who looked exactly like her.

A woman cloaked in blood-red fabric, her face a perfect mirror—same high cheekbones, same gold-ringed eyes. But there was nothing human in her smile.

“What... what is this?” Serena whispered.

Rylan blinked. “That’s not possible.”

Theron stepped protectively in front of her. “An illusion. A trick.”

“No,” Serena said, shaking her head. “It’s real. I’ve seen her before. In the dreams. The visions. She’s what I could’ve become.”

The imposter lifted her hand—and the shadows surged forward.

Theron grabbed Serena’s arm. “We need to fall back. Now.”

But Serena stood her ground, magic building in her core. “She’s not just here to kill me. She wants something else. Power. Control. Maybe even the throne.”

The imposter spoke finally, her voice smooth as silk and cold as the grave. “You always ran, Serena. But I embraced what we were meant to be.”

Then the ground cracked beneath them.

From the center of the courtyard, ancient runes flared to life. The stone groaned. Serena gasped as the air thickened with energy—power neither light nor dark, but something older. Something primal.

“Get back!” Theron yelled.

But it was too late.

A burst of black lightning shot from the imposter’s fingertips, slamming into the courtyard fountain. Stone shattered. Water exploded. Screams echoed from the halls as debris rained down.

Serena coughed, her ears ringing, vision spinning. Hands grabbed her—Theron’s. He dragged her behind the remains of a pillar, shielding her with his body.

“You alright?” he asked, voice low and tight.

She nodded, struggling to breathe. “We have to fight back. Not run.”

“Then let’s end this together,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers for the briefest second. “For the realm. For us.”

Her breath hitched. That single touch anchored her.

And just like that, she let go of hesitation. The light inside her—wild and unrefined—burst forward. A beam shot into the sky, cracking the darkness. The shadows reeled.

The imposter shrieked, eyes narrowing. “So you do still have some of me left.”

“No,” Serena said, rising, fire in her voice. “I’m nothing like you.”

She stepped forward, joined by Theron and Rylan as the shadows began to recoil.

And far in the distance, bells rang—a call to arms.

The final war had begun.