Shadow Slave: Foreign shadow

The cold metal was a heartbeat away from severing the Champion’s head. Thene’s blade—the shapeshifting Soul Serpent—descended in a lethal horizontal arc toward his exposed throat, its dark edge shimmering with a predatory light.

​But at the final inch... the blade stopped.

​The Priestess of Shadows stared at her enemy, finding Goliath wearing the same expression of bewildered confusion, his severed arm still bleeding copiously. Her obsidian eyes searched the air in front of her, searching for the source of the sudden, sharp agony blooming in her chest.

***

​Sunny was on the verge of crying out in pure, unadulterated joy. The chains of terror that had shackled him for weeks had finally shattered.

​Thene had won.

She had survived the duel.

​Beyond these walls, the guardians of the Temple had fallen—every last one of them. The invaders had claimed their victory, putting to the chain anyone who hadn’t escaped or died. But the two of them were alive, and more importantly, they were far from the front lines.

​Once Thene finished the Champion of War, they could run.

What would they do then? Where would they go?

​Sunny didn’t care.

He was even starting to consider the unthinkable: staying.

​It was a selfish, desperate thought, but he couldn’t push it away. It wouldn’t be so bad. As long as he didn’t have to part from Thene—his shadow—everything else was secondary.

’​Yes. I’m fine with this,’ he thought, a feverish logic taking hold. ’The future inside this Nightmare might not be any brighter than the one waiting for me outside, but at least here, I’m not living in a world already halfway to its grave. I know I’m not meant to stay. But... I don’t want to leave. Not while she’s still here.’

​Sunny knew his reasoning was borderline of insanity, yet he couldn’t stop the spiral.

He wondered if the [Shadow Bond] was warping his mind, but since that link had snapped into place, the thought of separation was more harrowing than death itself. He was willing to sacrifice everything else only to stay with her.

​A sudden, sharp whistle near his right ear jolted him back to the present. Something had just streaked past him.

​Sunny looked up, only to watch his world collapse for the second time that day.

***

​Thene looked down at her chest. The serrated tip of an arrow, having pierced her from behind and driven straight through her heart, now poked through the silk of her robes.

​

A dark, blossoming stain appeared on her black dress, spreading with agonizing slowness. She tried to speak, to utter a final word, but only a crimson tide of blood spilled from her lips.

​The strength vanished from her grip. Her black sword clattered to the stone. The Soul Serpent instantly reverted to its natural form—a snake with scales as dark as the void and eyes like windows into the abyss. The creature fell to the ground, its body contorting in a final, frantic convulsion. Amidst its tremors, it raised its triangular head toward its mistress, offering a silent, respectful salute before dissolving forever into the shadows.

​It wasn’t a goodbye; it was a promise. They would meet again where all shadows eventually find their rest.

​Goliath watched the scene unfold. His eyes held no relief at being spared. Instead, they burned with a mixture of profound disappointment, the shame of a dishonored duel, and a cold, mounting fury toward the one responsible for this insult.

​A true child of War fought until the end; the pursuit of glory was his only purpose. But this... this was the opposite of glory. There was nothing more loathsome to a warrior than the desecration of a sacred, one-on-one trial of blades.

***

​Sunny slowly turned his head toward the atrium, tracing the path of the arrow.

​Standing in the doorway was a man draped in a tattered crimson mantle, leaning heavily against the stone wall. He held a heavy crossbow in his hands. One of his arms was a mangled mess, and a missing eye leaked fresh blood down his face.

​Sunny recognized him.

He was one of the ”corpses” they had passed while running for their lives.

​The bastard had feigned death, waiting in the silence for the perfect moment to strike.

Disregarding his own safety, Sunny finally emerged from the cocoon of shadows the Priestess had erected to shield him.

​He caught Thene in his arms just before she could collapse onto the cold stone. Around them, the structures and floating blades of dark iron dissolved like melting snow, bleeding into pools of black water. The shadows returned to their natural state—silent, grieving observers. Together, they seemed to weep in chorus for the fall of their Master.

​Sunny held her tight, his hands trembling against the spreading warmth of her blood. Through the [Shadow Bond] that linked their souls, he could feel her fading. The sensation of his shadow drifting toward the gates of death was more agonizing than any physical scar, more hollow than any pain he had ever known.

​”Thene,” he whispered, his voice cracking as it fought against the rising tide of tears. ”Please... don’t leave me. Stay with me, Thene.”

​Thene, her life spilling out in crimson flowers, turned her beautiful, obsidian eyes toward him. With a strength that was rapidly deserting her, she reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, lovingly tracing the line of his jaw and stroking his hair with a feather-light touch.

​Behind them, the Champion of War found the strength to rise. Goliath’s severed arm wouldn’t stop bleeding, but the wound to his pride burned with a far greater intensity. He moved slowly across the wreckage of the hall, retrieving his massive greatsword with his remaining left arm.

​Then, he turned toward the man who had defiled his duel.

​The archer looked at his general with a prideful grin. ”See, Boss! I did it! I killed that bitch!”

​Goliath did not share his enthusiasm. Instead, a mask of dark, thunderous loathing settled over his features.

​”Tell me,” he growled, the sound vibrating from deep within his chest. ”Who gave a mongrel like you the authority to intervene?”

​The soldier’s proud smile faltered, replaced by a stuttering confusion. His mouth hung open.

​Goliath didn’t wait for an answer. He hoisted his greatsword and, with a single, clean vertical cleave, split the man in two. The Champion stood over the bisected remains and spat—a mixture of saliva and blood that landed squarely in the hollow socket of the dead man’s missing eye.

​Then, staying where he was, Goliath turned his gaze back to his fallen foe.

***

Sunny looked at Thene, their eyes two different shades of darkness peering into the unfathomable depths of one another.

’​This is a dream. It has to be,’ he thought, clinging to the hope that he would wake up at any moment.

Sunny imagined opening his eyes in his private quarters within the Shadow Temple, greeted by the precious, familiar presence of Eva and Ava. He’d go to his lessons with Gaston-stern, but a fine teacher. He’d train with Thene again, and she wouldn’t miss a single chance to tease him with her wicked jokes. He wanted to live just one more day in that illusory world where time never passed and the days were as sweet as the morning sun caressing his face.

​Yet, Sunny could not wake up.

Not yet, at least.

​He couldn’t stop the tears. In his mind, the ”Jiminy Cricket” that had before urged him to act now turned into a prosecutor, screaming at him for his paralysis.

>

​The voice felt like a heavy hand pressing his head down, forcing him to witness the penance of watching his Thene dying slowly in his arms.

​Sunny looked at her. Her hair, black as a starless sky and smooth as silk, fell in a cascade of ink, soaking into the pool of her own blood. Yet, upon her lips, there was a smile.

​Sunny’s lips trembled. Between choked sobs and fresh tears, he managed to force out the words: ”Forgive me... this is all my fault. I... I should have helped you, Thene.

I’m... I’m so sorry.”

​Silence followed his confession.

​Then, she answered him, her hand still tenderly caressing his cheek. In her eyes, the flame of life was flickering out, but before the light vanished entirely, she whispered: ”It’s not your fault, silly! How it could ever be?

You are safe. I’m glad. Thank you... for not leaving me, Thamriel. Now, don’t cry! I’ll keep my promise, you’ll see!

Until then, thank you!”

The words came out bittersweet and thin, nearly swallowed by the blood and the fading air in her lungs.

Then... Thene died. She was gone.

​Sunny pressed his forehead against her cooling skin. ​The sound of his weeping echoed bitterly through the hall—a room that had survived two Master-level battles in a single day, only to succumb to this hollow silence. ​Sunny pulled her body against his chest, clutching her with everything he had, drowning in the vain hope that she was merely sleeping.

Yes, she’s just sleeping.

She’ll wake up soon.

He drugged his reality with the lie, refusing to let go.

​Then, a towering figure cast a long shadow over him. A palpable, suffocating pressure flooded the ruined hall. Sunny felt the blood turn to ice in his veins; the hair on his arms stood up as a primal chill numbed his skin.

​Sunny looked up.

Goliath, the Master of War, was staring down at him with pure, glass-like indifference. ​”So, what do you intend to do?” The giant asked.

​The question held a hidden edge: Do you wish to avenge her?

​Sunny couldn’t answer. He sat there, frozen, paralyzed by a crushing terror. He was incapable of action, incapable of thought.

​Goliath let out a heavy, disappointed sigh.

​Then, the Champion of War raised a massive fist and struck.

The world went black.