Vessel of shadows

Chapter 1 Descent into Darkness Part 1

Lukander spurred his mount forward as the fields gave way to the manicured grounds of his family's estate. The silhouette of the mansion grew sharper, its stone walls looming against the evening sky. The dying sun cast long, haunting shadows over the landscape. Grass swayed beneath Windsor's powerful stride, the stormdrake's iridescent scales flashing deep purples, blues, and greens-like the sky at dusk. His wings, usually folded, rustled slightly, sensing the rising tension in the air.

Dust kicked up behind them as Windsor's muscular legs blurred with motion. A low growl rumbled in his throat, echoing Lukander's own unease. He pushed the stormdrake harder, guilt gnawing at him, but there was no time to waste. The wind carried the scent of copper and the distant crackle of flames. A plume of smoke twisted higher in the distance-faint, but unmistakable.

Lyra. The thought of her tightened his chest, the ache deepening with each passing mile. He could see her clearly-fox-like ears twitching endearingly, red hair glowing in the light, her laughter bubbling like music. It had been days since he'd last seen her, and with each step, he drew closer to being reunited. He could still feel the lingering warmth of their last embrace, the way she'd whispered, "Be safe," as if she knew something he did not.

Inside Lukander's pouch, two pendants lay-one for Lyra, and one for her mother, Luna. Though Luna had never openly opposed their relationship, her disapproval simmered beneath the surface-a quiet, reluctant concession. Lukander hoped the gift might ease the tension between them. Then again, compared to his family's fierce condemnation, Luna's resistance felt almost merciful.

But he understood the danger. If the truth came out, his family's reputation would be ruined.

Lukander shook off the troublesome thoughts and sighed, frustration bubbling beneath his skin. His father's unexpected and seemingly pointless errand resurfaced in his mind. Fire core crystals from the capital? Brambleshade had perfectly good ones. Yet his father had sent him on this tedious, time-wasting task, as though Lukander's time meant nothing.

He wasn't blind to their disregard. Among their three children, he alone bore the shame of being a one-circle mage. Leopold and Lea-both two-circle mages-fit perfectly into the family's ambitions.

A shiver crept up his spine. Why had his father really sent him away? Leopold's smug expression when he left gnawed at him. He'd been so eager to get back to Lyra that he hadn't questioned it. But now, the doubt that had been lingering at the edges of his mind began to solidify into something darker. A slow, growing dread.

Was there trouble brewing?

"Hurry," Lukander urged, his voice tight with anxiety. Windsor quickened his pace as the estate's eastern gate came into view. A suspicious sight greeted him-an eerie silence. There were no guards. The usually manned gate stood closed, unmoving.

His pulse spiked. "Open the gate!" he shouted, but the silence only deepened his fear. He leaped from Windsor's saddle, his boots hitting the ground with a thud that echoed in the unnatural stillness. He approached the gate, fingers brushing against the cold iron as if expecting it to spring open. His legs trembled-not just from exhaustion, but from dread. Something was wrong.

Thinking quickly, he put the magic his own family deemed insignificant to use. He pressed a hand against the stone wall adjacent to the iron gate, his affinity for earth vibrating faintly in his chest as he focused on the natural mana around him. With intent, he pulled the earth's energy toward him.

"Lapis Mutare," he chanted hurriedly.

the wall responded with a low rumble, the stone shifting and cracking. Jagged ridges formed beneath his hand, rough and uneven, but sturdy enough to hold his weight.