A Harmony of Ages, page 6
“Pull them back,” she ordered, her voice tight. “Now.”
Reed nodded and lifted his hand to signal the others, but before he could finish the gesture, a low hum cut through the air. It started as a distant vibration, then rose quickly to a sharp pulse that made the ground tremble.
Cracks in the street widened as the frequency intensified. Dust and small debris danced across the broken stones. Blair raised her free hand, urgently motioning for her scattered team to regroup.
Figures emerged from both ends of the street, stepping out of the darkness between buildings like they’d been waiting there all along. Shadow mages. Eight of them. Maybe more. Their hoods obscured their faces, but Blair could see their hands raised, fingers splayed, magic already gathering in their palms. Dark energy crackled and writhed around their knuckles, coiling like smoke.
They moved in coordinated patterns, spreading out to cut off escape routes. These weren’t desperate survivors scraping for power. They’d done this before.
The first spell came without warning. It hit the cobblestones beside Denny and detonated. Stone exploded outward in jagged fragments. Denny threw himself sideways, hitting the ground hard as shards tore through the space where he’d been standing.
Reed fired back immediately. His magic slammed into two of the attackers, throwing them backward into collapsed walls.
Blair raised both hands and forced a barrier up between her team and the advancing mages. The shield flickered into existence, shimmering and translucent. Shadow magic hit it a heartbeat later and punched straight through. The barrier shattered, dissolving into nothing.
Her artificial Resonant power wasn’t strong enough. Not against eight mages working together. Not with her lack of training.
Barnes backed toward the intersection, sword raised. Sienna burst out of the building, registered the ambush in one glance, and sprinted for Blair. Denny scrambled across broken ground toward them.
The shadow mages pressed forward from both directions, herding them into the open where there was nothing but open space and shattered cobblestones.
No cover. No exits.
Reed fired again, dropping one of the mages. Another stepped forward immediately to take his place.
Blair drew her sword, raising the blade even though steel wouldn’t do a damn thing against shadow magic. They were outmatched, and the mages knew it.
The attack came from both sides at once. Spells tore through the air in bursts of crackling darkness. Blair grabbed Sienna’s arm and dragged her behind a fallen archway as a blast struck the ground where they’d been standing. Stone detonated, sending shards flying across the street like shrapnel.
The Praxis agents fired back in controlled bursts, trying to break their attackers’ rhythm. Reed’s magic slammed into one hooded figure, dropping him hard. Barnes charged forward with his sword raised, forcing two others to split their attention. Denny threw up a hasty shield that deflected another incoming spell.
For a moment, it worked. The ambush faltered.
Then the figures in black regrouped. They pressed their advantage, driving Blair’s team deeper into the wreckage with relentless volleys of shadow magic. Spells tore through the intersection in waves, forcing them back step by step toward the ruined buildings.
Blair ducked under a collapsed beam, her boots slipping on loose rubble. Dust choked the air. The acrid smell of burnt magic mixed with pulverised stone. There was no way they could hold this position. They wouldn’t last another minute pinned down like this.
“Pull back!” she shouted over the chaos. “Get to the square!” They had to get out of the kill zone.
Barnes started moving first, backing toward the side street that led to open ground. Sienna followed, keeping low behind what remained of a wall. Reed covered them, firing as he retreated.
Blair turned to follow and her stomach dropped.
Two more hooded figures stepped into view at the mouth of the side street, blocking the only clear path out. Their hands were already raised, magic gathering between their fingers.
They were cut off. Trapped in the centre of the intersection with nowhere left to run.
Blair braced herself for the inevitable assault, raising her hands to gather what power she had left. It wouldn’t be enough, but she’d take as many of them down as she could.
The shadow mages advanced from both directions, their hands raised, dark energy crackling and coiling between their fingers.
The nearest one raised his hand higher, his spell fully formed now. A sphere of writhing darkness hovered above his palm.
But a blast of magic struck from above before he could release it.
The magic came from one of the ruined buildings overlooking the street, a bolt of white light that hit the hooded figure directly in the chest. He staggered backward, his concentration broken. The dark sphere collapsed, and he crumpled to the cobblestones without a sound.
Another blast followed, this one striking the ground between three of the mages on the left, and stone exploded upward. They scrambled backward, their formation breaking apart as they tried to locate the source of the attack.
A third blast came from a different angle, catching another shadow mage in the shoulder. The impact spun him sideways, and he went down hard, his spell scattering into nothing.
The remaining mages tried to regroup, but a fourth blast struck the figure blocking the side street. He dropped instantly.
The rest broke. The remaining attackers retreated, dissolving back into the cracks and shadows between buildings like the cowards they were. Within seconds, the street was empty except for four bodies sprawled across the broken cobblestones.
Blair turned slowly, her sword still raised as she scanned the ruined buildings overhead. The others did the same, weapons trained on the upper floors.
A figure stepped out from the shadows of an archway across the intersection. He moved with an unhurried stride that seemed at odds with what he’d just done. His hands carried the fading glow of spellwork, pale light receding between his fingers as he approached.
Blair kept her sword angled down but ready, watching him cross the broken ground. He surveyed the scene with a barely a flicker of emotion as he took in Blair and her team, the fallen shadow mages, and the destruction around them.
“You’re exposed here,” he said. “More will come when these don’t report back.”
Reed shifted to Blair’s right, magic still crackling at his fingertips. “Who are you?”
The man stopped several paces away, keeping a respectful distance. His gaze met Blair’s, as if he recognised her as the leader.
“My name is Aldrick.”
Blair knew his name, but could it be the same man? Aldrick was Rafe’s guardian, the reclusive mage who had found him, raised him, trained him. The connection was too specific to be a coincidence.
She lowered her sword but didn’t sheathe it, studying him carefully. His clothes were travel-worn, covered in the same magical residue that coated everything in Nightreach now.
Aldrick’s gaze sharpened. “I’m looking for a mage named Rafe Thorne.”
The name confirmed everything.
“I’m Blair Calloway,” she said. “Leader of what remains of Praxis.” She gestured to the others with her free hand. “We know Rafe. He’s been working with us.”
Something shifted in Aldrick’s expression—relief, perhaps, or fresh worry. It was difficult to tell beneath the layers of exhaustion etched into his face.
“We’re scouting the northern quarter,” Blair continued, wiping dust from her face with the back of her hand. “Looking for somewhere defensible. Our position was compromised when the storm broke out.”
She deliberately kept the details vague, watching his reaction. Aldrick simply nodded.
“Is he with you?” he asked.
“No. He hasn’t been seen him in a few days.”
Aldrick nodded once when she finished, his gaze drifting toward the dark street beyond. His expression remained controlled, but Blair caught the subtle tightening of his jaw.
“I’ll help you,” he said. “But I want to know everything. What happened to Nightreach? What did the Echo do?” He paused, and something raw flickered across his features. “And what happened to Rafe and Vesper?”
Blair felt the hesitation ripple through her team. Reed shifted his weight, fingers still crackling with residual magic. Sienna’s hand hadn’t left her blade. Barnes and Denny exchanged a quick glance, their postures stiff with distrust.
They looked to her, waiting for the call.
Blair studied Aldrick carefully. The lines of exhaustion etched into his face matched their own. He also knew about the Echo and Vesper. More importantly, he’d taken down four shadow mages without breaking stride.
If this was truly Rafe’s guardian, he’d be a powerful ally. But if he wasn’t…
She searched his eyes for deception. There was worry there, and anger, but also a steadiness that spoke to experience. His concern about Rafe’s whereabouts seemed genuine.
They needed shelter. They needed allies. And if Aldrick had come looking for Rafe and Vesper, he deserved to know what they were facing.
Blair gave a small, deliberate nod.
“We’ll tell you what we know,” she said. “But not here. These streets are crawling with Tenebrae’s followers.”
Aldrick’s expression darkened at the name, but he didn’t interrupt.
Reed stepped forward. “Blair, are you—”
“Yes.” She cut him off with a sharp glance. “He just saved our lives…and this is the mage that taught Rafe everything he knows.” She lowered her sword and slipped it back into its sheath. “Allegedly.”
Aldrick raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. They were taking a risk trusting him, but he was risking even more. He didn’t know her or Praxis. But if he thought for a second that they were lying, he’d cut every single one of them down before they could blink. That’s the kind of mage Aldrick Thorne was.
Blair gestured toward a narrow side street that curved away from the main thoroughfare. The quiet path offered at least some cover from whatever eyes might be watching—human or otherwise.
“This way,” she said.
Aldrick fell into step beside her without question. His attention remained split between their surroundings and the dark edges of the storm in the sky. He definitely had a battle mage’s vigilance.
Ahead lay a city still falling apart, ley lines unravelling beneath their feet, and Arcana walking the streets. Behind them, the bodies of the shadow mages were likely to be the first of many to come.
This was the world now. Exhausted survivors moving through the darkness, hoping to find somewhere to catch their breath before the next fight found them.
The last gasp of humanity’s resistance before the end of the world…unless they could find the Echo and free her from Tenebrae.
Their last hope.
Chapter 7
The liminal space breathed with him.
Tenebrae stood in the pocket of shadow he had folded into the Spirefields, watching the walls contract and expand like living lungs. Darkness condensed around him, so thick it should have weight, should have texture, but carried nothing. No temperature. No scent. Just the void he had shaped between worlds.
Fragments of crystal cities flickered across the emptiness. Spires that once pierced golden skies now reduced to dying stars, their architecture twisted and half-formed. Memories of what Threnody had destroyed, preserved in shadow.
Black cats prowled the boundaries. Dozens of them, extensions of his soul given form and purpose. They circled and paced, their movements fluid and wrong, their eyes glowing silver with his consciousness. One leapt onto a ripple in the darkness, its paws disturbing the surface. Another hissed, back arching as it sensed the power bleeding from the centre of the space.
Threnody hung suspended in chains of shadow magic.
The bindings wrapped around her wrists, ankles and throat, woven directly into her divine essence. Each chain pulsed with corrupted magic, anchoring her between worlds where she could not escape. When she struggled, opalescent light bled through the shadows, her power flaring and collapsing in weak, erratic bursts.
Tenebrae watched her breathing shift, watched her head jerk as visions tore through her mind. He had been doing this for days. Forcing her to relive the cataclysm, showing her the cities crumbling and the Arcana dying, making her witness Threnos’ suffering over and over until her defences cracked.
The mortal consciousness inside her was breaking too. He could feel the Resonant fracturing, struggling to hold on to herself whilst the divine overwhelmed it. Division made Threnody easier to break. If the human and the divine could not align, neither would have the strength to resist him.
One of the shadow cats brushed against his leg before prowling beneath Threnody, its silver eyes fixed upward.
Tenebrae stepped closer, his form shifting between solid obsidian and flowing darkness.
It was time to begin again.
He raised his hand, and the space responded.
The rhythm of her breathing had changed since the last session. Shallower now, more erratic, each inhale catching like something broken. Her head hung forward, chin nearly touching her chest. When her eyes opened, they didn’t focus. Just stared at nothing, pupils dilated and glassy.
The chains tightened incrementally, feeding on her exhaustion. The opalescent light that bled through the shadows had dimmed considerably. What had once flared bright and defiant now barely flickered.
Tenebrae studied the tremor in her limbs, the way her fingers twitched without purpose. Each session left her more exposed, more vulnerable to the next. The process was methodical. Inevitable.
Inside, the Resonant was fragmenting faster than the divine. The mortal consciousness recoiled from memories that weren’t hers, trying desperately to wall herself off from Threnody’s grief. But walls didn’t work when two souls shared one space. The girl couldn’t process millennia of destruction. Her mind wasn’t built for it.
The shadow cats sensed the shift in their prisoner. They moved faster now, circling with purpose. One hissed, low and continuous. Another leapt from the floor to the chains, its weight making the bindings constrict further.
Tenebrae calculated how much more pressure to apply. She was close to breaking completely. Very close. But he needed her to choose submission, not shatter into uselessness.
Shadow magic gathered around his fingers, ready.
Tenebrae sent a pulse of shadow magic into Threnody’s mind. The vision unfolded, pulled from her own memories and amplified by his will. Crystal cities crumbling. The sky splitting apart in fire. Spires collapsing into dust as the ground shattered beneath them.
He watched her body convulse against the chains, her head snapping back, her fingers clawing uselessly at nothing. The shadow cats pressed closer, drawn to the divine power bleeding from her struggle. Their forms flickered and darkened, feeding on the magic that leaked through the bindings.
The vision played out in excruciating detail. Arcana screaming as reality tore itself apart around them. Buildings reduced to rubble in seconds. The foundations of their world cracking and splintering, magic gone wild and consuming everything it touched. Tenebrae crafted each moment carefully, ensuring she felt every loss and witnessed every death.
Threnody’s resistance flared once, a burst of opalescent light that pushed against the shadow magic wrapping her consciousness. Then it collapsed, dimming to almost nothing as the weight of the vision crushed her defences. The chains tightened in response, pulling at her divine essence until she gasped.
He noted the rhythm of it. The way her power surged and fell, weaker with each cycle. The way her body trembled, muscles straining against bindings that wouldn’t break. She was wearing down under the relentless assault.
The shadow cats circled faster, their silver eyes brightening as they sensed her weakening. One leapt onto the chain binding her right wrist, its weight causing the shadow to constrict further.
Tenebrae let the vision fade, giving her a moment to feel the absence of it. A breath. A heartbeat.
But she was still resisting. Threnody was clinging to whatever justification she had made for her choice. The cataclysm alone wasn’t enough to break her. She had made peace with destroying their world long ago.
He needed something she hadn’t forgiven herself for.
Tenebrae reached for a different thread.
He pulled memories of Threnos from deep within Threnody’s consciousness. He had known them both before the cataclysm, witnessed their bond, understood exactly what it meant to her. This weapon was more precise than showing her cities falling. More personal.
The vision he crafted now was cruel, but he did not care. It was designed to break her open so he could claim her power. That was all.
Threnos’ body lay broken in the aftermath of the cataclysm, his physical form dying as the world collapsed around him. Dark hair matted with blood and dust. Features that had once been sharp and elegant now twisted in agony. His eyes, which had always burned gold with divine light, were fading to dull grey. Rubble covered his legs. Blood pooled beneath him, dark against shattered crystal. The light faded from his soul, whilst his hand reached for something that was no longer there. For someone who had already destroyed everything.
Tenebrae forced Threnody to watch. He made her feel the cold spreading through Threnos’ limbs, the weight of stone crushing his chest, the desperate hope that she would come back. That she would undo what she had done.
She never came.
The vision shifted. Threnos’ soul ripped from his body, torn into fragments and scattered across reality. Tenebrae showed her the moment of separation, the scream that had no voice, the consciousness splitting apart. Pieces of Threnos flung into the void, each one carrying memory and pain and awareness.
Then the thousands of years that followed.
Consciousness trapped in pieces. Unable to reform. Unable to die. Each fragment aware of its isolation, aware of what it had lost, aware that it would never be whole again. Threnos existing in agony across time, his identity crumbling with each passing century, his memories dissolving into fragments of fragments until nothing remained but suffering.
