The world seemed to freeze around Kael, his pulse hammering in his ears as the shadow creature loomed before him, its form flickering like a dying ember. His hand tightened around the dagger hilt, but it felt almost laughably inadequate against the monster before him. This was no ordinary assassin's game—this was a warning.
Kael's eyes never left the figure standing across from him, the man who claimed to be his father. His mind raced, desperately trying to make sense of the impossible. His memories were fragmented at best, and he had never known a father, let alone one who wielded power such as this. He was an orphan, brought up in the underbelly of Drathos, trained to be an assassin, and raised to trust no one. But this man—this being—was something else entirely.
"Father?" Kael's voice felt foreign to his own ears, as if he were merely mouthing the word that had been thrust upon him. "How can that be? I… I never knew you."
The man's cold eyes narrowed, flickers of ancient power swirling in his gaze. His lips parted slightly, a thin, cruel smile playing across his face.
"I suppose I never gave you the chance to remember, did I?" The man's voice was like ice, each syllable tinged with centuries of bitterness. "But all that changes now. You've awakened, Kael. The shadows have finally claimed you."
Kael's fingers twitched, his grip tightening on the dagger, though his feet remained frozen in place. The air around him grew heavy, thick with an unnatural pressure, as though the very weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders.
The shadow creature at his feet seemed to breathe, its gaseous form swirling and writhing with growing intensity. The creature's glowing eyes fixed on Kael, and for a moment, he felt as if the darkness itself had entered his very soul.
"You're the one who did this to me," Kael said, the words coming out as a low growl. "What am I? What is this power I feel coursing through my veins?"
The figure—his father—let out a low, echoing laugh, a sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the alley.
"You are the heir of the shadows," he said with reverence. "A bloodline older than time itself. The son of an ancient darkness. You were never meant to be an orphan, Kael. You were always meant to rise. And now, the time has come for you to embrace your true nature."
Kael's mind reeled as the man's words sank in. He had never believed in such things—gods, demons, ancient bloodlines—but now, standing in the presence of this being, a cold realization gnawed at his thoughts. The shadows he had always been able to control, the power that had often felt so unnatural, were not just skills honed through years of training. They were something far more. They were a part of him—his inheritance, his legacy.
"You're telling me I'm some sort of… shadow king?" Kael spat, his voice laced with disbelief. "I'm just a killer. A tool for hire."
"A tool?" The man's voice became like thunder, and the shadows shifted violently at his command. "You are the heir of the Shadow Realm. The son of the Night King, ruler of beasts, death, and darkness itself. This is no mere coincidence, Kael. You were born for a purpose."
The man stepped closer, and for the first time, Kael could feel the weight of his presence. It was like standing before a towering monolith, a being whose very existence seemed to warp the reality around them. He reached out a gloved hand, palm upward, and the shadows obeyed, forming a swirling orb of black energy above his hand.
"You will learn to control them, to bend them to your will. And you will find your place in the world, Kael. The shadow realm will be yours to command. But first, you must survive what comes next."
Kael's eyes flicked to the shadow creature, which was now circling him, its inky tendrils probing the air. The creature's glowing red eyes seemed to mock him, as though daring him to challenge it.
"Survive?" Kael muttered, his heart racing. "Survive what?"
The man's smile deepened. "The Infernal Citadel."
Kael's blood ran cold. The Citadel. A name whispered in fear and reverence across the land. It was the most dangerous academy in the world, where the most powerful and brutal assassins were trained. Only the strongest, the most ruthless, emerged from its trials alive. And those who failed were either broken or killed.
"Why would I go there?" Kael asked, his voice trembling with anger and confusion. "What could I possibly learn there?"
"You will learn to master your powers," his father replied, the shadows swirling in sync with his every movement. "You will learn what it truly means to rule, Kael. To command the beasts that follow in your wake. To make your enemies tremble before your strength."
The man stepped back, his hand closing into a fist, and the shadow creature recoiled, returning to its master's command. He looked down at Kael, his expression unreadable.
"And when you are ready," the man continued, "you will come to me. I will be waiting."
Kael stared at the man for a long moment, struggling to make sense of everything. The shadows were no longer merely a power he wielded—they were a part of him, and he could feel them calling to him, like an extension of his very soul. It terrified him. But beneath the terror, there was something else—a deep, primal hunger.
"Who are you?" Kael whispered, his voice barely audible. "What do you want from me?"
The man's eyes glittered darkly, and for a moment, Kael saw something in them that he couldn't quite comprehend—a mixture of pride and something darker. Something much older.
"I am your father, Kael," the man said, his voice low and final. "And I will be the one to shape you into the ruler you were always meant to be."
With a flick of his wrist, the shadow creature dissolved into the air, vanishing without a trace. The man's form began to shift, fading into the darkness of the night, his presence lingering like a cold wind.
Kael stood alone in the alley, the weight of his newfound heritage pressing down on him. The darkness had found him. And now, there would be no escape.
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End of Chapter 2