Mist blanketed the ancient stones of Noctareth as dawn broke over the obsidian spires. The city, capital of the southern dominion, rested beneath a sky so dark it seemed to drink the morning light. Within its highest district, beyond walls carved from shadowsteel, stood the ancestral stronghold of House Valemir.
Inside its halls, a boy knelt alone.
Fifteen-year-old Kaelen Valemir stood at the edge of ceremony, his heart hammering like a war drum. Cloaked in dark robes stitched with thread soaked in moonlight, he knelt upon a blackstone floor within the Temple of Shade. Braziers flickered with pale fire, casting strange shapes across the carved statues of past Valemir lords—silent judges watching his soul.
Today was his Awakening.
Around him, murmurs echoed from the gathered nobles. Representatives from the four great families—Roseria, Gravemarch, Byle, and even the reclusive Vortigan—stood in solemn silence, each waiting to witness the birth of another heir.
Kaelen kept his eyes down. A voice echoed through the dark:
"Kaelen Valemir, of the Shadow Lineage," intoned the robed attendant. "Son of Aerion, bearer of the Void Aspect. Stand and face your fate."
He rose. Slowly. Purposefully.
In the center of the chamber, the Shadow Pillar stood—an ancient monolith veined with runes of darkness. It pulsed with living shadow. Kaelen stepped forward, and the moment his fingers touched the stone—
—the world fell away.
A storm of darkness wrapped around him, swallowing him whole. He stood not in the temple, but in a void of ink and breath. Shadow moved like water here, whispering across his skin, tasting him.
Then it spoke.
Not in words—but in weight.
It was acknowledgment.
The shadow receded. Kaelen opened his eyes—eyes now lined with thin black marks stretching toward his temples. The rune on his backhand glowed faintly.
The Aspect had chosen him.
The ceremony ended with formal silence. Whispers followed as nobles stepped back, some murmuring approval, others fear. But none questioned what they saw.
Kaelen had awakened the Aspect of Shadow.
In the shadows above, his father, Duke Aerion Valemir, watched in silence, a rare smile forming at the edge of his lips. Beside him, Lady Lysara exhaled slowly—her worry giving way to pride.
The boy was no longer a child.
He was an heir.