Inside the Guild Hall, Master Theron was seated in his chamber, his chair turned slightly toward the open window. Sunlight shone across scattered maps and ink-stained cups of long-forgotten tea.
A small sparrow perched boldly on the windowsill.
The old Guildmaster broke a crust of bread between his fingers and flicked crumbs toward it with lazy precision.
The bird chirped.
“Don’t get greedy,” he muttered. “I’m not running a charity.”
Samuel knocked before stepping inside.
Theron did not turn immediately. He had recognized the footstep before the knock ever came.
“Well,” he took a bite from his bread, “my headache’s gone. Those raiders troubled me for weeks. You dealt with them in a single day.”
Only then did he look at Samuel, his posture still relaxed to the point of insolence.
“You came back at the perfect time, Samuel. I can finally breathe a little easier in Heliosa.”
“I needed coins. Nothing more. You had a job. I took it.” Samuel replied. He noticed the bird, didn't mind it much. Theron had always been a man of odd habits.
“Still humble, an annoying trait of yours.” The Guildmaster chuckled. "Heliosa hasn't forgotten you," he continued and flicked a single crumb toward his little visitor, watching it snatch the morsel from the air. "People will be proud to see you return. And the poor souls foolish enough to stand against you will soon learn what it means to face Samuel Holloway. You've not lost your edge. Not like before, perhaps, but the steel's still there".
He offered the last piece of bread from his palm, and the sparrow hopped closer, taking it directly from his fingers before fluttering up to land squarely on top of his head. The bird settled into the white hair of his braid as if it had claimed a throne.
The sight was so ridiculous and both of them broke into a hearty laugh.
"I think the bird's finally found its nest. You ought to watch out. With the way you rarely move from that desk, it might just decide to lay an egg up there later." Samuel jested.
Theron sat perfectly still not to dislodge his guest. “She better not, ‘cause I’ll have it for second breakfast.”
The bird chirped loudly in protest.
“Aye, aye, only teasing.”
Their laughter slowly subsided.
The old man reached for a thick folder on his desk, his expression turning somber. “Now, before I put another task in your hands, there’s something else I wish to speak with you about. About your daughter.”
“Lily?”
"Aye. Her assessment was remarkable. She excelled in all. That is from what you’re doing, Samuel. You raised her well."
For a second, Samuel’s face lit with pride.
“And yet, there are things no training can teach. The way she slowed her breathing… even her heartbeat. Mira noticed it. So did I. Most people can’t master themselves like that. It was… unusual. And then there was the brazier. We all saw it. Shaelira’s fire burns orange for every oath. It always has. But when Lily touched it, the flame changed. That has happened only once before in our records. That person possessed a powerful, dangerous gift. One the Guild has never forgotten. The orange fire signifies balance and violet means something else. A warning, perhaps.”
He studied him in silence for a moment. “And from yesterday’s drill, I saw her eyes. Just for an instant… they flickered red. Not from exhaustion, not from strain, but from her temper. She was provoked, her anger stoked, and something inside her answered. That wasn’t ordinary.”
He leaned back deeper into the chair, the wood creaking under his weight. “I knew you and your wife before the war, Samuel. Neither of you bore such traits. You told me they both died. And now you return with a daughter whose strength and strangeness cannot be explained. So I will ask plainly. What truth have you kept from me?”
Samuel's lips pressed into a hard line. For years, he had carried the truth alone, guarding it for Lily. To speak it aloud felt like betrayal, yet his respect for Theron ran deep. He knew his old friend’s reputation was as solid as his. Trusting that bond, Samuel decided it was time to share the burden.
At last, he exhaled, the sound rough with resignation. “I didn’t expect you’d notice it so quickly.” He paused and then forced the words out. “Lily is not mine by blood. I found her years ago, when I was still working at the Sunkeep Castle. She was just a child, bold, wild, and too stubborn to leave the drill grounds. Yet, I saw something in her. I took her in. Raised her as best I could.”
He braced himself against the weight of the memory. “But there is something else. Something I’ve never understood. When she grows truly angry… her eyes change. And when they turn fully red, she grows stronger, faster, and cannot control herself.”
“So that’s what it was… the red-eyed rage.” Theron leaned forward, elbows on the desk and fingers steeped and peered over his joined fingertips. The sparrow remained perched on his hair, listening like a silent witness to Samuel’s confession. “Hmm… Interesting… Tell me more, all of it.”
Samuel hesitated, but eventually, he explained. “The first time it happened, she was ten. I pushed her too hard during training. I didn’t see how close she was to breaking. When it came, it wasn’t just her eyes that changed. Her body followed, bones shifted, her shape twisted. She became something else. Feral. Like a demon slipping into her skin.”
Theron’s eyes went wide with interest, but he stayed silent.
“She attacked me,” Samuel continued. “Her strength wasn’t humanlike. I barely held her down. If she’d been older, I wouldn’t be here today.”
“And after?”
Samuel’s gaze dropped with guilt. “I locked her in an iron-wood cage. She thrashed for hours, a wild thing with no recognition in her eyes. But the cage didn't hold. She tore through the latch and vanished into the woods before dawn.”
“You let her go?”
“I had no choice. I trailed her, fearing the worst,” Samuel admitted. “I found her a mile out. She had cornered a massive, foul-tempered mountain cat that had been snatching cattle from the village for months. She didn't just kill it, she hunted it with a cold, predatory precision that no ten-year-old should possess. Only after the beast lay dead by her hand did the red fade from her eyes. She collapsed right there, and when she finally woke in my arms, she remembered nothing. Not the cage, not the hunt. Nothing.”
He pulled open the front of his tunic, baring a long scar slashing diagonally across his chest. Tapped it. “She gave me this, with her claws. She cried when she saw it. It terrified her. Terrified me more.”
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Theron studied the scar. He took a thick, brass-rimmed magnifying lens from his messy desk. “Not a blade. Claw marks… jagged… curved,” he traced the path of the strike through the lens. “To tear through armor… she became something else indeed. Does it happen only when she’s upset?”
“Mostly. But only when she’s shattered, betrayed, cornered… when something in her finally snaps. Never over small things. Only when she’s driven past her breaking point.”
Theron’s fingers tapped the desk in thought. “And now? How often does it happen?”
“She’s lost control five times in her life. Each time, I feared she wouldn’t survive or that someone else wouldn’t. But I learned the hard way that once the shift starts, it has to be finished. If she doesn’t take a life, her body starts to fail her. She gets tremors, she can’t sleep, and the aggression just... destroys her from the inside until she snaps. I’ve seen her skin flush hot enough to steam in the winter air, her muscles corded so tight they threatened to snap her own bones,” Samuel added but strained. “It isn't just a mood… it’s a physical rot.”
Theron’s tapping stopped. “A cycle that must be completed.”
“Exactly. That’s why I’ve spent years training her to hunt. It isn't just for food… it’s a necessity. She has to kill something with enough vitality such as a wolf, a boar, a monster… to settle the blood. The most dangerous part is that she feels relief afterward. It calms her nerves and lets her be herself again. I thought that was the only way to bring her back.”
He paused, his expression shifted from grim to bewilder. “But the most recent incident... was strange.”
“Strange? How? ”
“It was over an apple.” Samuel let out a parched huff. “I ate half of it. I didn’t think much, but it had been given to her by that young lad fruit vendor at the market. The one she’d known as a kid.”
“A fruit vendor?”
Samuel nodded, still looking amazed. “She was furious. Truly. I saw all the signs… the red flicker, the edge of the shift. She was seconds from turning, and I was already preparing to lead her into the woods to hunt. But when I spoke his name... just his name... she calmed down. Almost instantly. No blood, no hunt. It was like a switch flipped her mood back to normal. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“An apple… and a boy. Hmm, she is a young woman. Such intensity, that sudden calm at the mention of a name. It could be love. Those feelings might have grounded her for some reason.”
Samuel looked at him with a hint of doubt. “She had a lover once. She almost killed him in a rage.”
“Then perhaps this one is different. Observe her. Closely. Watch every change. Especially with this boy you mentioned, he seems to influence Lily’s emotions.”
“I’m already on to that.”
“Good. And how about her parents? Are they still around or…”
“I only knew her mother, a kind woman. Served in the castle kitchens. Sweet, soft-spoken. Nothing unusual about her. She passed only a week before we returned to here.”
“And her father?”
Samuel’s expression darkened. “Never met him. Her mother said he was just a traveler. A merchant passing through. She never told me much about him, always seemed to avoid the subject whenever I pushed for answers."
Something sparked on Theron’s mind like a puzzle piece finally sliding into place. “That worries me… Seems like she was hiding something.”
“I thought so, too.”
Theron sat in silence, his fingers drumming a slow, rhythmic beat against the weathered parchment. His eyes drifted to the sparrow on his head, which had gone uncharacteristically still.
“The physical rot, the need to settle the blood, and that… specific relief,” Theron murmured dropping an octave sound. “It isn't a curse, Samuel. It’s a signature.”
“A signature of what?”
Without moving from his seat, Theron reached for his walking stick and extended it toward the tall wooden cabinet behind him. He tapped a specific, dust-laden scroll tucked into a dark corner, signaling for Samuel to retrieve it.
“I’ve spent a lifetime digging through the corners of old guild halls, reading fragments of things the world has tried to forget,” he said as Samuel unfurled the parchment. “They speak of ancient unions. Things older than beasts or demons. They speak of the Shadowborn.”
Samuel’s posture stiffened.
“Everything you’ve described fits the old records,” Theron continued, pointing a gnarled finger at the fading ink. “The biological demand for the hunt, the ‘red-eyed rage,’ and the way her body threatens to tear itself apart if the cycle isn't completed. Most importantly… that relief. It’s the blood-stabilization unique to their kind. They don't just kill because they are angry, they kill because their nature demands the vitality of others to remain anchored to this world.”
He loomed closer while his face set in grim curiosity. “Tell me, my friend. When it happens, when she changes… does it seem as though her shadow takes her first? As if it crawls up her body until it becomes her?”
“Aye, exactly that.” Samuel confirmed.
“Then it is a hypothesis no longer,” Theron said with a weight of certainty. “Lily isn't just a girl with a temper. She is a half-blood of the Shadowborn, the first seen in generations.”
He turned slowly towards the window, his focus fixed on the distant horizon as if he could still see the dark shores of his memory. “Let me tell you about one of these creatures I encountered in my younger years. I was on an overseas mission, far beyond the borders of Heliosa. We were sailing when a violent storm tore through our rigging and drove us onto the coast of an unknown island. The hull survived, barely, but we were stranded for days making repairs. One night, a few of us went deep into the forest to hunt. That’s where we saw it.”
He turned fully to Samuel with serious look. "I saw it with my own eyes. The shadows moved with it, bending like reeds around its form. Horns black and curved as if forged from iron. Long claws, red eyes glowing in the dark. It didn't breathe, didn't speak, it was just silent. And before we could even draw our blades, it tore through two of my men in heartbeats."
“That fits her. She slips into darkness as if it obeys her. There are nights I’ve lost her trail entirely, even under a full moon.”
Theron gave a nod, then continued, “I don’t think it came to kill us outright. It stood there, protecting maybe its land, its territory. I’ll never forget that look in its eyes when I backed away. It didn’t chase us when the rest of us got out of its den.” He tapped the next page of the parchment. “One of the oldest records we have. Some say they were cursed fighters, eaten up by their own anger. No one truly knows.”
Samuel read the page. “Shadow Stalkers...”
“Most believe they vanished long ago, lost to time, just myths. But I’ve never believed that. They are real, still alive, still walking among us. I know. I saw one with my own eyes from that incident.” He looked back at him, “And Lily… she might be one of them.”
Samuel went speechless.
“She may not yet understand what she is. That ignorance makes her dangerous. Their kind is rare, thought by many to be long gone. She could be the first in generations. Perhaps the strongest we have ever known.”
“So what shall we do?”
Theron didn’t answer right away. Then he asked, “Does anyone else know about this?”
“A few.”
“Who?”
“Her ex-lover, he saw one of her outbursts. Sneaky sort, but… honorable in his way. Never told a soul. The others who saw her… well, most didn’t survive. And the ones who did were too rattled to talk.” He swallowed hard before he continued. “But there is one more I’m worried about.”
“Who?”
Samuel leaned in and whispered the name.
Theron expression changed, but not with anger but with unease. “Gods above! Of all people… this is the one who must never know. He cannot. If he does—” He stunned for a second. “This is worse than I feared.”
“I know. We crossed paths years ago. He gave us hell, nearly ended us both. But Lily and I escaped.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s forgotten. He is not the kind to let go easily. If he ever suspected what she is, what she might be, he would move heaven and earth to claim her.”
“Help me protect her. She needs our help.”
“You have my word. I’ll see to her safety. But this truth must stay buried, between us, and no one else. Not even Lily. Not yet. She must be watched, guided, and kept. If the wrong eyes catch even a glimpse of what she carries… Many will have an interest in her power.”
“That’s why I came back to the guild. Not only for coins or for work. I cannot save her alone. But here, with your guild, I thought I might keep her safe.”
“And you will not have to bear it alone. We’ll guard her together. But until the time is right, this secret does not leave this room.”
“Thank you.”
“You know you can always rely on me. I’m glad you shared this. Now, at least, we have some idea how to handle her, for her sake, and for everyone’s.
Silence settled over the room.
Suddenly, the sparrow atop Theron's head let out a frantic chirp, its tiny talons digging into his braid as it fluttered its wings in alarm. Theron somehow understood what it wanted and his head snapped towards the entrance. He had caught it, a slight movement of a shadow slipping beneath the door.
Theron seized the arms of his chair and forced himself up. The old wood protested with a harsh creak, the legs grinding against the floor. The sound was too loud that the shadow withdrew at once, melting into the corridor before he could reach the door.
Samuel noticed him instantly. “What is it?”
"Ugh... Curse these rusted joints of mine," Theron groaned, his face contorting in a brief grimace as the sudden movement triggered a flare of pain. He eased himself back into the seat with a heavy sigh, the sparrow fluttering its wings to maintain its balance on his head.
"Someone was listening."
Samuel felt a chill of uneasiness settle over him. The room, once a sanctuary for their shared confession, now felt exposed.
“We move carefully from here on,” Theron cautioned. “Someone might suspect.”
🕯? After this reveal, do you trust Lily?
