Wings of Silver

Chapter 2

Each measured step echoes through the dimly lit corridor, my passage marked by the flickering dance of sconces lining the walls. In their discontent, the disgruntled guards stiffen at the mere whisper of my presence. In their guarded glances, I can't help but speculate if they harbour more fear for me than for my own father. Unperturbed, I press forward, the shadows parting reluctantly to allow my passage. Among them, I sense Edgar lurking, watching my every move. Yet I pay him no heed. He doesn't know the shadows like I do that they are my friends, my only friends. Nothing can hide from me, not even darkness itself, because, like my father, and whether I like it or not, I am the darkness.

I mask the burning pain I feel across my back and left thigh. To reveal pain is to expose weakness, a lesson my father instilled in me. He's already furious at me for killing his commander yesterday. Showing pain will only make things worse. I approach my father's back. His hooded cloak is a masterpiece of design. Soft, dark material flows to his ankles, with a shorter layer resting above his elbows, combining the rich allure of black leather with gold detailing. His hood is down, revealing his dark black hair with deep grey sides. Veins of shadow twist and coil around his neck.

Positioned with an air of authority, he stands with his hands behind his back, mirroring the posture he expects me to adopt unfailingly. Yet, my scrutiny discerns a scroll cradled in his grasp. His gaze fixates on two shadow-cursed men engaged in aerial combat astride nagawyrms. The clash of weaponry—a menacing axe and a lethal longbow—unfolds.

My father doesn't turn, but he can sense I'm behind him. "Why didn't you shadow-step? Do you think I enjoy waiting impatiently for you, Riniera?" His tone is a chilling breeze, and I maintain my composure despite the tendrils of fear snaking through me.

"I figured the anticipation would be thrilling for you, Father," I respond in jest, my words a feeble attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

He turns and stares at me sternly. His swirling black veins spread across his face in anger. Soulless, black eyes burn into my dark blue ones.

The shadow-cursed man, wielding the axe, is hit straight in the chest with an arrow. He falls from his nagawyrm and falls to his death with a splat.

General Kellan's disapproval rings out, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Terrible skills! Next!" he shouts with displeasure.

Staring towards the training yard, I muse with raised eyebrows, "Oh, it's good to see General Kellen in the training yard."

"Commander Kellan now, since you killed Commander Mildridge yesterday," my father interjects, arms crossed in stern disapproval.

I look back at my father. "You know, locking my door and stationing four shadow-cursed guards couldn't keep me in my room. I could have broken that door and easily dispatched those men," I assert.

"I'm well aware of that, Riniera. I knew you would stay in your room to avoid my wrath after what you did yesterday," he retorts, his anger simmering beneath a composed exterior.

Disappointment washes over me as I prepare to confess a truth I had hoped to conceal. "The pain was too much. It was the worst he has made me endure," I confess, my gaze averted. "By the fifth lashing, I begged Mildridge to stop, but instead, he smiled and continued. He could see it was triggering my shadow-cursed form, but he told me to focus and control it. But then the sixth and seventh lashes were across my thigh. I became angry and made the shadows wrap around his neck and strangle him. I did warn him to stop," I offer in my defence.

My father narrows his eyes, the shadow of disappointment lingering. "Putting up with pain is part of your training, Riniera," he scowls. "It always has been, and the pain is supposed to worsen to keep you in control of your shadow magic and stop your shadow-curse symptoms from appearing. If it was too much, then it means you are too weak!" His angry proclamation reverberates across the training grounds.