I don't know

An old yet new face

Lysander stood in the middle of the battle field and desperately tried to catch his breath. All around him men were dying and parting ways with their last breath but he simply wasn't able to help them all. The only thing he could do was to concentrate on the group of around 20 soldiers which had gathered around him and try his best to make sure that as many of them as possible survived. Meanwhile the soldiers main priority was to keep the prince himself alive - which was rather difficult considering that he seemed to disregard any caution for his own life to save others. After a while all of them had gathered injuries - some which were no more than scratches, others which were life threatening. Normally they would have stopped fighting under those conditions and retreated but at the moment there simply was no way out since the battle went on all around them. There no longer were clear defence lines but instead small groups fought each other and enemies as well as friends were in front, beside and behind them. For a while it seemed like the humans were actually gaining ground - at least in their direct surroundings.

But then they saw whole groups of human soldiers desperately running away from a group of Donahue. Unlike the other groups this one didn't seem to consist of normal soldiers who at the maximum used their powers to trick the vision of the humans a bit. No, in this group there were Donahue who - judging by those soldiers who remained standing in front of them with glassy eyes until they were killed off - were well able to manipulate human minds. Additionally a few of them had mastered the art of using solidified shadows to fight - they shot shadows like arrows and small missiles.

However even in that group most fighters faded in comparison to the fighter amidst them. As Lysander looked at the men he realised that it could only be the person his uncle had told him about - the mysterious warrior whose origin was a complete enigma. He watched in distant awe as the warrior created a shadow arm and used it to pierce soldiers like he was preparing food for a barbecue. Then the warrior used shadows to lift himself up into the air and gain an overview over the battle and then apparently noticed that his new position had quite a few other advantages. He lifted his arm and balled his hand into a fist in a tense movement. As he did so the air next to him darkened and shreds of shadow appeared next to him and compressed themselves until they formed small blades which he then used to shoot soldiers all around the place. However unlike his companions he didn't just shoot one or two of these blades but instead at least 20 at once and almost all hit their target.

Lysander, who had stood still in shock, teared himself out of his trance and gave himself a jerk. Before any of his soldiers could react he had lifted his sword and was storming towards the warrior while I tried to follow him without accidentally running in one of the many blades which were swung around me. When he reached the base of the shadow formation he overpowered one of the Donahue fighters - most of them had already moved on and concentrated their energy on other human groups while their leader did his thing. Then he took the Donahues dagger and threw it at the warrior aiming at his head. In the blink of an eye the warrior's head snapped around and as he noticed the dagger flying towards him he immediately let his shadow base dissolve which caused him to drop to the ground and therefore be missed by the dagger. Unlike what I had expected he didn't stumble at all after falling down at least 5 metres but instead landed gracefully on his toes and only went a bit into his knees to catch his fall a bit. Then he faced the prince.

Lysander got the chance to inspect the warrior a bit more closely this time. He was tall, even taller than the prince and wore a sort of shadowy mask over his face which completely hid it from view. The shadow mass seemed to be connected to some kind of object hanging around his neck and not even the eyes were left out - apparently he could see through the darkness - but I still felt like I could feel a steely, sharp gaze. His armour was made of an unusually dark metall - the armour that was there at least because it was not much more than a harnish. The rest, like his arms and legs, were only protected by braces and greaves made from light leather. Apparently he valued his ability to move fast and unhindered more than the safety of his limbs.