The air in the training arena of the Pit was cold and smelled of old paper. Drogo Payne stood in the center of the Abyssal Granite floor. He was ten feet of polished black stone, his silver-marbled skin glowing with a faint, steady violet light. In his massive, obsidian hand, he held a book.It was not a book of stories. It was not a book of poems. It was a heavy, leather-bound volume stolen from the Academy’s private library. On the cover, written in gold letters, were the words: THE RADIANT CORE: A MASTER’S GUIDE TO INTERNAL MANA FLOW.In front of him, the thirteen Shadow-Walkers sat on the floor. They were perfectly still. Their charcoal skin was hard, and their white hair floated in the air like smoke. Their silver eyes were fixed on the book. They were ready to learn."The Empire tells you that mages are chosen by the Gods," Drogo said. His voice was a deep, vibrating chime that made the pages of the book flutter."They tell you that the 'Spark' is a divine gift. They want you to

The Pit was a world of perfect, heavy silence. It was not the silence of an empty room. It was the silence of a deep forest before a storm. It was the silence of a predator waiting in the tall grass.Drogo Payne sat on his throne of compressed earth. He was ten feet of polished obsidian, his silver-marbled skin glowing with a very dim, steady violet light. He was not moving. He was not even breathing. He was simply existing as the center of a giant, invisible web.Inside his mind, the thirteen tethers were humming. He could feel the Shadow-Walkers. They were scattered throughout the fortress, practicing the lessons he had carved into their souls."The training is almost finished," Drogo whispered. His voice was a low vibration that didn't even disturb the dust on the floor. "Now, we must learn to move as one."Drogo stood up and walked out of the Inner Sanctum. He led the thirteen children to the "North Junction." This was a massive room where the new tunnels of the Pit met the ancie

The air in the Bone-Yard was usually cold, but tonight it felt electric. Vesper and Pip had returned from the sewers. They had killed a Master of the Academy. They had turned a man into dust and washed him away with the sludge. They were not sad. They were not shaking. They were glowing.In the Shadow-Barracks, the other eleven children gathered around Vesper and Pip. The room was lit by a single Abyssal Torch, casting long, flickering shadows against the iron walls.Vesper stood in the center. her white hair was floating wildly, as if there was a wind in the room that no one else could feel. Her silver eyes were not calm. They were pulsing with a bright, aggressive violet light."He was so slow," Vesper whispered. Her voice was high and fast. "He tried to use a fire-shield. I just walked through it. It felt like... like warm rain. And then I touched him."She looked at her hand. Small sparks of black electricity jumped between her fingers."When his magic entered me, I felt like I c

The Pit was no longer just a place to hide. It was a place to plan. The air in the main hall was cold and heavy. The violet light from the Abyssal Torches made the shadows look like they were dancing. Drogo Payne stood in the center of the training arena. He was ten feet of polished black stone. His silver-marbled skin glowed with a slow, steady light. He looked like a king, but he felt like a machine.Inside his mind, the thirteen tethers were strong. He could feel the hearts of the thirteen Shadow-Walkers. He could feel their hunger. He could feel their focus."The training of the body is done," Drogo said. His voice was a deep, vibrating chime that filled the cavern."The training of the mind is done. Now, we must learn to be a weapon."Drogo looked at the thirteen children. They stood in a perfect line, their charcoal skin reflecting the violet light. They were no longer just a group of orphans. They were his legion."A hand has five fingers," Drogo said, raising his massive blac

The Pit was no longer a silent tomb. It was a heart that was beating too fast. Deep beneath the Mid-Tier District, the air in the massive cistern was thick. It was not the thickness of smoke or steam. It was the thickness of "Essence." The "Dross-Filters" that Drogo had built into the sewer lines had been working for days. They had sucked the magical waste, the broken prayers, and the residual pain of the city into the walls of the fortress.Now, the Abyssal Granite was glowing. A deep, pulsing violet light radiated from the stone, making the shadows in the corners look like they were alive. The black water in the central pool was bubbling, releasing a cold mist that smelled like ozone and ancient metal.The Pit was overflowing. It was a battery of darkness, charged to the very limit, waiting for someone to pull the trigger.Drogo Payne stood at the highest point of the fortress, on the ledge of the Inner Sanctum. He was ten feet of polished obsidian, his silver-marbled skin glowing