The morning brought rain—rare in Grimwald, where fog was the usual currency of weather. It drummed against the tenement's roof tiles with insistent rhythm, washing soot from the air and turning the streets below into rivers of black runoff.
Elias stood at his window, watching water cascade down the glass. His shadows had grown restless overnight. Shade rippled across the floor in agitated patterns. Crimson's geometric formations had become jagged, angular. Whisperfang's chains scraped continuously against floorboards. Even Ember, usually the most stable since the Fifth's integration, flickered with unusual intensity.
"You feel it too," he murmured.
The Codex lay open on his table, its pages damp despite being indoors. New words had appeared, written in what looked like rust-red ink:
When fire comes, shadows must choose: retreat into darkness, or burn bright enough to match the flame.
A presence had entered Grimwald. Something hot and hostile, like a coal pressed against the city's skin. Caius, the Flamebearer Corvan had warned about.
Elias could feel him—a distant pressure, like heat shimmer on the horizon. The Fifth Shadow resonated with it, responding to the Solneran fire-magic with recognition and... was that anticipation?
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
Mira's Warning
She was soaked through, her factory smock clinging to her thin frame, dark hair plastered to her skull. But her mismatched eyes were bright with urgency.
"He's here," she said without preamble. "The Flamebearer. Caius Avernus. He arrived at the Embassy Quarter yesterday with an entire retinue—soldiers, mages, bureaucrats. They're not even pretending it's a diplomatic mission."
Elias pulled her inside, and Shade immediately began wicking moisture from her clothes with careful tendrils. She flinched but didn't pull away.
"What have you learned?"
Mira pulled a soggy notebook from inside her smock—she'd wrapped it in oilcloth, keeping it dry. "I got close to their compound. They're establishing a headquarters in the old Meridian Hotel. Guards at every entrance, wards on the windows. I counted at least twenty operatives, maybe more inside."
She flipped through pages covered in cramped handwriting and sketches. "But here's what's interesting: they're not moving against you immediately. Caius has been meeting with guild representatives. The Crimson Guild, the Merchant Collective, even representatives from the Silent Choir."
"He's building alliances."
"Or testing loyalties. Seeing who can be bought, who can be threatened, who needs to be eliminated." She looked up at him. "He's asking questions about you. Very specific questions. How many shadows you control, how you command them, whether you've shown any weaknesses."
Elias felt the Fifth Shadow pulse. The Codex whispered: Know your enemy before engaging. Information is its own kind of power.
"Did you get close enough to see him?"
"Once. Briefly." Mira's voice dropped. "He's not what I expected. Young, maybe thirty. Handsome in that Solneran way—sharp features, dark eyes. But when he walked past me, the air got hot. Not warm, hot. Like standing too close to a forge. And his shadow..."
"What about his shadow?"
"It didn't move right. It was too dark, too solid. And sometimes, I swear I saw flames flickering in it."
Elias nodded slowly. A Flamebearer who had learned to infuse his own shadow with fire—that was rare, and dangerous. It meant Caius understood shadow-work well enough to corrupt it, to turn it into something hybrid and wrong.
"You've done well," he told Mira. "But you can't go back to the Embassy Quarter. If Caius is asking about me, he'll eventually trace connections. Anyone who's been seen with me becomes a target."
"Then what do I do?"
"Stay here. My wards will hold against anything short of a direct assault." He hesitated, then added: "And if you're going to work as my eyes and ears, you need protection beyond just walls."
He called Shade forward. The shadow hesitated, then flowed toward Mira. She went very still as it circled her once, twice, three times.
"What are you doing?" she whispered.
"Shade, mark her. Let the other shadows know she's under my protection."
The shadow pulsed, then touched Mira's wrist with a single tendril. She gasped as a thin line of darkness appeared on her skin—not a tattoo, exactly, but a shadow that rested just below the surface. It wouldn't be visible to most people, but any shadow-binder would recognize it instantly.
"That will warn off most threats," Elias said. "And if you're in immediate danger, press on it. Shade will feel it, and I'll know."
Mira stared at the mark with a mixture of fear and wonder. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. You're part of this now, for better or worse."
The Crimson Guild's Gambit
An hour later, another visitor arrived—this time, a formal messenger in Crimson Guild colors. The young man handed Elias a sealed letter, then departed quickly, clearly unnerved by the shadows watching from every corner.
The letter was brief:
Voidsinger Elias Veyrin,
Circumstances have evolved. The Flamebearer Caius has made certain... proposals regarding your status in Grimwald. We believe you should hear them directly before decisions are made.
Meet us at the Brass Foundry tonight, two hours past sunset. Come alone, or with your shadows—but bring no other allies.
What happens next depends on your response.
—Magistrate Verne
Elias read it twice, then handed it to Mira.
"It's a trap," she said immediately.
"Possibly. Or it's exactly what it claims to be—the guild positioning themselves between me and Solnera, trying to broker some kind of arrangement."
"You can't seriously be considering going."
"I have to. If I refuse, the Crimson Guild will interpret it as weakness or fear. And right now, I need them uncertain about which side I'll eventually choose."
Mira's expression was skeptical, but she didn't argue further. "Then at least let me scout the area first. If there's an ambush waiting, you should know about it."
"No. If Caius is there, and if he's any good at sensing shadow-marks, he'll detect you immediately." Elias stood, beginning to pace. His shadows moved with him, orbiting like moons around a planet. "I go alone. But I go prepared."
Preparation
Elias spent the afternoon in meditation, synchronizing his connection with each shadow. He'd learned that the more time he spent in conscious communion with them, the faster they responded in crisis.
Shade coiled around his legs, its touch cool and reassuring. He could feel its nature—protective, loyal, cautious. It had been with him longest, and the bond ran deepest.
Crimson hovered before him, and he studied its ever-shifting geometric patterns. Intelligence, precision, calculation. It saw the world as angles and vectors, always seeking the most efficient solution.
Whisperfang was harder. The chains rattled as he approached, and he could feel its wariness. Born from betrayal, it still didn't fully trust—but it obeyed. That would have to be enough.
Ember... Ember was the mystery. Since integrating the Fifth Shadow's resonance, it had become something unprecedented. Part shadow, part fire, something entirely new. When he reached out to it mentally, he felt heat and darkness intertwined so thoroughly that they couldn't be separated.
"Show me what you've become," he whispered.
Ember flared, and suddenly he could see through it—not physical sight, but something deeper. He sensed heat signatures throughout the tenement building: Mira in the corner, still studying her shadow-mark; rats in the walls; the banked coals in neighboring fireplaces. And beyond, much further out, a blazing presence in the Embassy Quarter that could only be Caius.
The Flamebearer burned like a beacon, impossible to miss.
The Codex pulsed: Fire calls to fire. The Fifth recognizes its counterpart. Use this connection, but carefully—observation flows both ways.
Elias severed the connection immediately. If he could sense Caius through Ember, the Flamebearer might be able to sense him in return.
"We need to be smarter than him," Elias said aloud. "Stronger isn't enough. Not against someone trained in Solnera's academies."
His shadows pulsed in agreement.
The Brass Foundry
Night fell with unusual darkness—the rain had passed, but heavy clouds obscured even Grimwald's pale moon. Elias walked through streets transformed into rivers of shadow, his own darkness blending seamlessly with the city's.
The Brass Foundry loomed ahead, its windows glowing with lamplight. He could see silhouettes moving inside—more people than a simple meeting required.
Shade spread out ahead, scouting. Crimson ascended to rooftop level, scanning for hidden watchers. Whisperfang's chains dragged along the ground, testing for magical tripwires or wards. Ember stayed close, its heat a comfort against the night's chill.
The foundry's main door stood open. An invitation, or a trap? Perhaps both.
Elias entered.
The interior had been transformed since his last visit. The machinery had been pushed to the walls, creating an open space. At the center stood Magistrate Verne and two other Crimson Guild officers. But they weren't alone.
On the opposite side of the space stood Caius Avernus.
The Flamebearer was indeed young, as Mira had described—perhaps thirty, with the sharp features and olive skin common to Solneran nobility. He wore formal robes of deep crimson and gold, and flames danced along the hem without consuming the fabric. His eyes, when they met Elias's, were the color of molten bronze.
And his shadow... his shadow was wrong. It flickered with internal fire, orange and red licking through the darkness like veins of lava.
"Voidsinger Elias Veyrin," Caius said. His voice was smooth, cultured, with only a trace of Solneran accent. "I've heard so much about you. Grimwald's newest prodigy. Five shadows in mere weeks—quite impressive for someone with no formal training."
Elias said nothing. Shade coiled defensively. Crimson positioned itself for quick strikes. Whisperfang's chains rattled a low warning. Ember... Ember moved forward, placing itself between Elias and Caius, and for the first time, Elias felt his shadow acting on pure instinct rather than command.
Caius noticed. His expression shifted—surprise, then calculation, then something that might have been respect.
"Fascinating. Your fire-shadow recognizes kinship. Tell me, how did you manage to bind flame and shadow? That technique was lost centuries ago, even in Solnera."
"I don't answer questions from people who are hunting me," Elias replied.
"Hunting? Such an ugly word." Caius gestured gracefully. "I prefer to think of it as... evaluation. The Dominion has certain concerns about unregulated power. Surely you understand."
Magistrate Verne stepped forward, her scarred throat catching lamplight. "The Flamebearer has presented us with a proposition. One that concerns you directly, Voidsinger. We thought you should hear it before the guild makes any decisions."
"I'm listening."
Caius smiled. "It's quite simple. The Dominion recognizes your talents. With proper training and... shall we say, guidance... you could become quite formidable. We're prepared to offer you a position within Solnera's Shadow Academy. Full rank, generous stipend, access to resources that Grimwald cannot provide."
"In exchange for?"
"Loyalty. Obedience. The understanding that power must be channeled appropriately." Caius's smile didn't waver. "And of course, you would need to surrender the Codex. Such artifacts are too dangerous for unsupervised use."
There it was. The real demand, buried beneath diplomatic language.
Elias felt his shadows respond to his anger—Shade darkening, Crimson's edges sharpening, Whisperfang's chains beginning to glow faintly red. Ember flared hot enough that Caius took a half-step back.
"And if I refuse?"
"Then the Dominion will be forced to classify you as a rogue element. One that requires... containment." Caius's bronze eyes hardened. "I've contained many rogue shadow-binders, Voidsinger. Some came quietly. Others..." He gestured at his fire-corrupted shadow. "Well. Fire is remarkably effective at purifying darkness."
The threat hung in the air between them.
Magistrate Verne cleared her throat. "The Crimson Guild remains neutral in this matter. But we would prefer a solution that doesn't result in open conflict within Grimwald's borders. Violence is bad for business."
"How pragmatic," Elias said dryly. He turned his full attention to Caius. "I'll give you the same answer I gave the Silent Choir: no. I don't serve the Dominion. I don't surrender my Codex. And I don't bow to threats."
Caius's smile finally faded. "I was hoping you'd say that. It makes what comes next so much more... educational."
He raised one hand, and flames erupted from his palm—not wild fire, but controlled, shaped into a blade of pure heat. His corrupted shadow surged forward, fire and darkness intertwined.
Elias's shadows responded instantly. Shade formed a barrier. Crimson struck at angles designed to deflect rather than engage directly. Whisperfang's chains lashed out, trying to bind the fire-shadow's movement. Ember met Caius's flames directly, molten light against radiant fire.
The foundry exploded into chaos.
But then Magistrate Verne's voice cut through: "Enough!"
Both combatants froze. The Crimson Guild officers had surrounded them, weapons drawn—not pointed at either side, but ready.
"This foundry is neutral ground," Verne said coldly. "You both agreed to meet peacefully. Any who break that agreement will face the guild's full wrath, regardless of power or politics."
Caius dismissed his flames with visible reluctance. "Of course, Magistrate. My apologies. I merely wanted to... demonstrate certain realities to our young friend."
He turned back to Elias. "You have one week, Voidsinger. Seven days to reconsider my offer. After that, I will assume your answer is final, and act accordingly. I suggest you use that time to contemplate whether your pride is worth burning for."
Without waiting for response, Caius strode from the foundry, his corrupted shadow trailing behind like a cloak of living embers.
The moment he left, Elias felt the tension drain from his body. His shadows settled, though they remained alert.
Magistrate Verne approached carefully. "You've made a dangerous enemy."
"I've made several."
"This one is different. The Choir will watch and measure. The guilds will maneuver and negotiate. But Solnera's Flamebearers..." She shook her head. "They don't negotiate. They eliminate threats with extreme prejudice. You have seven days before Grimwald becomes a battlefield."
"Then I'd better use them well."
Aftermath
Elias returned to his tenement to find Mira waiting anxiously. She'd felt the moment of combat through her shadow-mark, the distant echo of violence.
"What happened?"
He told her everything while his shadows settled into their positions around the room. When he finished, Mira was pale.
"Seven days isn't enough time."
"It has to be." Elias opened the Codex, studying its pages. New words had appeared:
Fire has been kindled. Shadow must deepen. The Sixth awaits, but the price grows steeper. Are you prepared to pay what darkness demands?
Elias traced the words with one finger. "The Codex says the Sixth Shadow is near. If I can bind it before Caius moves..."
"That's not enough time to find it, let alone bind it safely."
"Then I'll have to move faster." He looked at his five shadows—Shade, Crimson, Whisperfang, Ember, and the nascent Fifth pulsing beneath them all. "We've come this far. One more shadow won't break us."
But even as he said it, Elias felt the weight of exhaustion in his bones. Each binding took something from him—energy, memory, pieces of himself he couldn't quite name. How much more could he give before there was nothing left?
The Codex whispered: Every shadow strengthens and hollows. Every binding builds and diminishes. This is the paradox you must master.
Outside, rain began falling again, washing Grimwald clean of ash and blood. Somewhere in the Embassy Quarter, Caius was planning his next move. Somewhere in the city's depths, the Sixth Shadow waited.
And Elias, Voidsinger and shadow-binder, sat in his small room and wondered whether pride was indeed worth burning for.
Seven days.
The clock had started.