Shadow Born Legacy

Chapter 3: The Blood Pact

Kael's body crashed onto the cold, rain-slicked cobblestones. Ragged gasps came with every breath as he lay there weak and his limbs trembling in fatigue and agony, but the fire within his mind burned hotter than ever. Blood smells thick in the air: the sickly perfume of death clinging to his skin. Around him, the city had become a mass grave, bodies twisted in grotesque final poses, the streets painted in a viscous red sheen that shimmered beneath the pale glow of lantern light.

Darius stood over him, the black steel of his sword glistening with the lifeblood of the innocent. His expression was one of disappointment, his golden eyes filled with something worse than hatred: amusement. The elder brother, the perfect assassin, the embodiment of everything the Shadowborne were meant to be. Kael had long feared Darius, but now, as he lay on the brink of death, that fear mutated into something else: a murderous resolve.

"You always were the weakest," Darius murmured, wiping a splatter of blood from his cheek. "Soft-hearted. Foolish. Look at you now, drowning in your own failure."

Kael coughed and filled his mouth with the bitter taste of iron. His fingers flailed blindly about, desperate for the lost dagger. Vision faded; his view still was distinguishable from his blurred senses, the silent men of Darius; his vision blurred out at the scene that unfolded, waiting in darkness and silence for this night that killed the entire city. End.

Something had distracted Kael's attention: a survivor, a man half dragging his way through the carnage, his breaths short and very hard. He couldn't have been older than twenty, his apprentice's garb soaked with blood, his arm twisted unnaturally at the elbow. He wasn't a threat. He wasn't even a fighter. And yet Darius saw him.

With a graceful flick of his wrist, Darius threw a throwing knife. It lodged in the man's throat, instantly silencing him. Kael's stomach tightened.

"No witnesses," Darius said simply, as if discussing the weather. "Loose ends are liabilities."

Kael’s breathing grew unsteady. He had spent his entire life suffocating under the weight of the Shadowborne legacy, drowning in a sea of blood he never wanted to spill. But now, as he watched the light fade from that man’s eyes, something inside him snapped.

A predator’s instinct took hold.

With a swiftness that could summon none but the most unimaginable surprise, Kael lunged forward, fingers curling around a discarded blade. Darius barely had time to react before steel met flesh, the edge of the dagger carving a jagged line across his forearm. The elder assassin hissed in pain, his mask of amusement shattering into something far darker.

"You dare?"

Kael didn’t let him finish. He pivoted, slicing another of Darius’s men across the throat before he had even drawn his weapon. Blood sprayed hot against Kael’s face, but he didn’t flinch. He moved like a ghost, like death incarnate, striking fast and without mercy. He didn’t think he only acted.

The others leapt at him, but Kael was already gone, wending through them as a shadow takes shape. He ripped through the first with a gutting to the belly, twisting it viciously before ripping it free. Another tried to grab him; he caught the man's wrist and snapped it with a sickening crunch before jabbing the dagger under his chin, feeling the warm gush of blood as it coated his hand.

Darius was on him in seconds, his sword a blur of silver. Kael barely managed to duck in time, feeling the blade slice through the air inches from his scalp. He rolled, snatched a fallen guard's weapon, and met his brother's next strike head-on. The impact rattled through his bones, but he held firm.

"You've lost your mind," Darius snarled, pushing him back. "Do you really think you can fight your way out of this?"

Kael smiled, his lips split and bleeding. "I don't need to fight my way out. I just need to make sure you never walk away from this."

Darius laughed, a hollow sound. "You always were pathetic."

They clashed again, swords ringing out in the night, their movements a blur of steel and blood. Kael fought with everything he had, but he knew the truth: Darius was stronger. Faster. More precise. Every blow Kael landed, his brother returned tenfold, pushing him further and further back. The pain in his body screamed for relief, but his rage burned hotter, driving him forward.

Then, a moment of hesitation.

A single misstep.

Darius's sword plunged deep into Kael's side. White-hot agony exploded through his body, and his vision swam with black spots. He staggered, barely able to hold onto his blade. Darius sneered, twisting the sword cruelly before yanking it free.

Kael collapsed to his knees, blood pooling beneath him.

Darius bent before him, grasping his chin roughly. "You never had a chance, little brother," he whispered, voice almost gentle. "You were born a Shadowborne. And you will die as one."

Kael's vision darkened, his body growing cold. He could hear the distant shouts of approaching guards, but they felt a world away. His heartbeat slowed.

And then, in the depths of his fading consciousness, he heard another voice.

A whisper.

Do you want to live?"

The voice was old, moving through his veins like liquid shadow. It was neither male nor female, neither kind nor cruel. It simply was. And it was offering him something beyond death.

His fingers twitched. His breath hitched. The darkness coiled around him, seeping into his wounds, flooding his body with a terrible, unnatural strength. Darius must have sensed it; his grip tightened, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Kael lifted his head.

And he smiled.

His body writhed as the shadows grasped hold, coiling around his limbs like living tendrils. His wounds sealed, his pain disappeared, and his heart throbbed with something unholy. He could feel them—the voices, the power, the hunger.

Darius took a step back, his confidence wavering for the first time.

Kael stood up, his shadow stretching unnaturally across the blood-soaked ground. His eyes glowed with an eerie light, something ancient and monstrous stirring behind them.

Darius raised his sword. "What?"

Kael moved faster than thought, faster than should have been possible. One moment, he stood before his brother. Next, his hand was wrapped around Darius's throat, lifting him effortlessly into the air.

The eldest Shadowborne gasped, his fingers clawing at Kael's grip. "What have you done?"

Kael tilted his head, his smile growing wider. "I have become something far worse than you."

With a sickening crunch, he crushed Darius's throat in his grip and let his brother's lifeless body fall to the ground.

As the guards stormed the city gates, Kael turned to face them, the whispers of the abyss calling him forward.

The slaughter was only just beginning.