Shadows of Alteria

I rose from my camp as dawn painted the sky in muted grays. The dew-soaked grass crunched beneath my boots as I gathered my few possessions. Seven days of watching, learning, memorizing every detail of Ravencross had honed my patience to a razor's edge.

"The guards change shifts at sunrise," I muttered, adjusting the dark fabric of my new clothes. "The merchant caravans won't arrive for another hour."

"You've studied them well," Zarthus's voice rippled through my shadow. "Like a wolf stalking its prey."

I brushed dirt from my sleeves. The material seemed to absorb the early morning light, making me appear as if carved from darkness itself. A far cry from the ragged boy who'd once begged on these streets.

My hidden camp had served its purpose - a vantage point to observe the village's rhythms. I'd watched the baker stumble to his shop before dawn, the blacksmith's hammer ring out until dusk, and the tavern owner sweep his porch each evening. Every detail cataloged, every weakness noted.

I stretched, feeling power course through my limbs. "Time to introduce myself."

The road to Ravencross curved through fields of wheat, golden stalks swaying in the morning breeze. Farmers paused in their work as I passed, their eyes drawn to my strange appearance before quickly looking away. Their fear was a tangible thing, sweet as honey on my tongue.

The village walls loomed ahead, weathered stone rising against the pale sky. Two guards stood at attention by the gate, their spears held with false confidence. The taller one shifted his weight as I approached, armor creaking with nervous energy.

"Halt!" His voice cracked on the word. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool morning air. "State your business in Ravencross."

I kept walking, my steps measured and silent. The shorter guard's hands trembled on his spear shaft. Their eyes widened as I drew closer, primitive instincts screaming danger. The smell of their fear grew stronger - sharp and metallic, like blood on steel.

"I said halt!" The first guard thrust his spear forward, its tip hovering inches from my chest. The weapon wavered in his grip, betraying his uncertainty.

I stopped, fixing him with an unblinking stare. The same gaze that had watched his fellow guards die in the forest clearing. Without breaking eye contact, I pushed the spear aside with one finger. The metal was cold against my skin.

The shorter guard stumbled backward, his armor rattling. "By the gods," he whispered.

I passed between them, their presence as significant as insects. The cobblestone street stretched before me, lined with shops just opening for the day. A woman sweeping her doorstep froze mid-motion, her broom clattering to the ground.

"The mighty guards of Ravencross," I muttered under my breath. "Pathetic."

"They sense what you are," Zarthus whispered from my shadow. "Even if they don't understand it."

Early morning sunlight caught the windows, throwing fractured reflections across the street. Shop owners preparing for the day's business stopped to stare. Conversations died mid-sentence. A child playing with a wooden sword saw me and ran inside, door slamming behind him.

The guards at the gate remained frozen, torn between duty and terror. Their inaction spoke volumes about the quality of Ravencross's defenses. This place had grown soft, comfortable in its perceived safety.

I walked down the main street, savoring the ripple of fear that spread before me. Mothers pulled their children inside. Men stepped back into doorways. Even the dogs fell silent, slinking away with tails between their legs.

The power within me pulsed with each step, a steady rhythm that matched my heartbeat. Zarthus's presence coiled through my shadow like smoke, invisible to others but undeniably there. Together, we were something this village had never seen - and would never forget.

"Remember how they treated you," Zarthus's voice slithered through my mind. "How they cast you out like garbage."

I did remember. Every cruel word, every door slammed in my face, every night spent hungry and cold. The memories fueled the darkness within me, sharpening my purpose to a lethal point.

The baker who'd once chased me away from his stale scraps now stood in his doorway, face pale as flour. The shopkeeper who'd accused me of stealing watched from behind his counter, hands shaking as he gripped the edge for support.

I caught my reflection in a shop window - a figure of shadow and power, darkness made flesh. My eyes gleamed with an otherworldly light, and dark veins traced patterns beneath my skin. I smiled, and the shopkeeper quickly looked away.

This was just the beginning. Soon, they would learn what true fear meant. The power thrumming through my veins demanded action, craved violence. But patience had served me well these past seven days. It would serve me still.

I strode toward the mayor's house, each step resonating with purpose. The cobblestones beneath my feet cracked and splintered, dark energy seeping into the ground like poison. Behind me, the sound of approaching guards grew louder - metal boots striking stone, weapons being drawn, orders barked in desperate voices.

"Surround him!" An Imperial captain's voice cut through the chaos. "Form ranks!"

The village square opened before me, morning sunlight casting long shadows across weathered stone. Market stalls stood abandoned, goods scattered in their owners' haste to flee. A chicken pecked at spilled grain, oblivious to the growing tension.

"I wouldn't come closer if I were you," I called out, not bothering to turn around. "Your friends in the forest learned that lesson too late."

The sound of marching feet faltered. I heard whispered conversations, the rustle of nervous movement. They'd found the bodies, then. Good.

"In the name of the Emperor, halt!" The captain's voice cracked on the final word.

I reached the mayor's door, its iron reinforcements gleaming dully in the morning light. A week ago, I'd watched from the shadows as this same door slammed in a beggar woman's face. The mayor had laughed, wine spilling from his cup as he mocked her pleas for help.

"Show them," Zarthus whispered from my shadow. "Show them what true power looks like."

I placed my hand against the door. Dark energy pulsed through my palm, spreading like cracks through ice. The iron groaned, warping and twisting as if trying to escape. With a sound like thunder, the door exploded inward, showering the entrance hall with splinters and twisted metal.

"Monster!" someone screamed behind me. "He's a monster!"

I stepped through the ruined doorway, darkness coiling around me like a cloak. The mayor's entrance hall stretched before me, all polished wood and expensive tapestries. Signs of wealth built on others' misery.

"My lord mayor!" I called out, my voice echoing off marble floors. "Come greet your guest!"

Footsteps pounded on the upper floor - panicked, scrambling. I heard a crash, followed by cursing. The mayor, no doubt searching for an escape route.

Outside, the Imperial guards had finally organized themselves. I counted their footsteps - twenty, maybe thirty men. They'd formed a half-circle around the house's entrance, weapons ready.

"This is your final warning!" The captain again, trying to sound authoritative despite his fear. "Surrender or we'll-"

I flicked my wrist, sending a wave of dark energy through the doorway. The nearest guards flew backward, their armor crumpling like paper. They crashed into their companions, dominos toppling in a cascade of metal and flesh.

"You'll what?" I asked, still focused on the house's interior. "Die? Yes, that seems likely."

A door slammed upstairs, followed by more running footsteps. The mayor's voice drifted down, high-pitched with panic: "The back door! Quick, before he-"

I clenched my fist. Shadows raced up the walls, spreading across the ceiling like spilled ink. The mayor's words cut off in a strangled gasp.

"Yesss," Zarthus hissed. "Feel their terror. Drink it in."

From outside came the sound of bowstrings being drawn. Arrows whistled through the air - one, two, a dozen. I didn't bother moving. The projectiles stopped inches from my back, caught in a web of darkness.

"Is that really the best you can do?" I turned slowly, facing the assembled guards. The arrows hung suspended behind me, their steel tips glinting. "After all, I'm just a beggar boy. Isn't that what you called me?"

Recognition dawned in several faces. The guard who'd kicked me out of the market. The sergeant who'd laughed while his men chased me through the streets. The captain himself, who'd ordered me flogged for stealing a crust of bread.

"You," the captain whispered, face pale beneath his helmet. "Impossible."

I smiled, feeling darkness leak from the corners of my mouth. "Nothing is impossible anymore."

With a gesture, I sent their own arrows screaming back at them. Metal struck metal, punctuated by screams of pain and surprise. Guards stumbled, fell, tried to retreat only to find shadows wrapping around their legs like chains.

"My lord mayor!" I called up the stairs, watching as more shadows crawled across the walls. "You can't hide from me. Not anymore."

A whimper echoed from above, followed by the sound of furniture being dragged. The fool was trying to barricade himself in his study. As if wood and metal could stop what I'd become.

Outside, the remaining guards rallied for another attack. Brave, but futile. I could smell their fear, taste their desperation. They knew, deep in their souls, that they faced something beyond their comprehension.

"Make them suffer," Zarthus urged. "Make them pay for every cruel word, every moment of pain."

I raised my hand, darkness gathering like storm clouds. The guards raised their shields, a pathetic wall of metal against the coming storm.

This was what I'd dreamed of during those cold nights on the streets. This was what I'd prayed for while nursing wounds from their batons and boots. Power. Control. The ability to make them understand what it felt like to be helpless.

The darkness pulsed, ready to be unleashed. Around me, shadows danced and twisted, eager for blood. Above, the mayor's futile attempts at escape continued. And outside, the guards waited, trapped between duty and terror.

Ravencross and the other villages had taught me what it meant to be powerless. Now, I would teach them.