Chapter 13 – Shadows in the Market of Light
Morning filtered through the crystalline towers of Revenak, scattering prisms of gold across the Citadel's white marble paths.
For the first time in weeks, John wasn't bleeding, burning, or collapsing
They walked beneath the archways that led to Revenak's upper tier, where the streets opened into a glowing market.
The air was warm, perfumed with spiced petals and ozone from the crystal torches overhead.
Merchants shouted from tiered balconies; luminous banners rippled in the breeze. Every stall seemed alive—offering threads that shimmered like captured starlight, fruits that glowed faintly in the shade, and bottled orbs that contained drifting clouds of color.
Children surrounded Ember instantly, squealing with delight when the little cub sneezed sparks of gold. John laughed. Tamara tried not to—but her lips betrayed her.
"Guess Ember's the real celebrity," John said.
Tamara smiled faintly. "Can't compete with that face."
Ember chirped and pressed his tiny paw against her shin as if agreeing.
The Potion Shop
The scent of herbs drew them toward a shop nestled beneath a hanging garden. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, filled with potions that shimmered like captured sunsets.
A merchant with six monocles perched across his face looked up as they entered. "Ah! Outsiders! Welcome to Varin's Elixirs and Enlightenments. Ingredients or ready-brewed?"
John placed a crate on the counter and began unloading bottles—thick red liquid swirling faintly with Light. "Neither. I'm selling."
The merchant blinked. Adjusted a monocle. Blinked again.
"You… brewed these?"
"Yeah," John said. "Healing potions. Stable Light infusion. I figured they'd sell better than they'd sit."
The merchant pulled one closer, holding it to the glow. The light refracted across his lenses until his whole face sparkled like a chandelier.
"These are refined—crystalline quality! Who taught you infusion like this?"
"Trial and error," John said. "Mostly error."
Tamara folded her arms, smirking. "Don't let him fool you. Half the Citadel thought his room exploded last week."
"That was one time," John muttered.
The merchant barked out a laugh. "Explosions make the best alchemists! I'll take them all. Every bottle."
When they left, John's coin pouch was heavy with Light shards, and Tamara was shaking her head in disbelief.
"You just made more selling potions than I've seen a knight earn in a month."
"Guess I'm in the wrong business," he said. "Maybe I should retire early."
"Not before the Trial," she reminded him.
He sighed. "Right. Six months."
As they walked, he glanced down at Ember. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know anything about Lumibear growth potions, would you?"
Tamara arched a brow. "Why—"
Before she could finish, the merchant ran out after them, holding a small vial of soft green glow.
"Almost forgot! Infant Lumibear Elixir—helps develop their Light core. Very rare."
John handed over several shards without hesitation.
Tamara smirked. "Spoiling your kid already?"
"Gotta invest in the future."
The Relic Shop
The next shop loomed like a shrine—built into the ribs of a fallen crystal giant. The walls pulsed faintly, as if the ancient guardian's heart still beat beneath the stone.
Weapons hung on floating chains of Light. Some shimmered like rivers; others burned with living fire. Tamara's gaze swept the racks until one blade caught her breath.
It was slender and silver-blue, etched with frost runes that glowed faintly even in the light. Cold air coiled from it like breath in winter.
John felt it too—the faint hum of resonance, as if the sword itself was alive.
The shopkeeper noticed their focus and approached with reverence. "The Frostvein Edge. Forged by the last Frostsmith of the North Tower before the barrier sealed. She poured her entire Light core into its creation."
Tamara's voice was quiet. "It's beautiful."
"Expensive, too," the merchant added, almost apologetically.
John didn't hesitate. He tossed a pouch of shards onto the counter.
Tamara blinked. "John, I can't—"
He held out the sword. "Your old one's dull. This one looks like it belongs in your hand."
For a heartbeat, she didn't move. Then she reached for it, fingers brushing the hilt. The runes flared with a burst of icy brilliance, snow crystals dancing around her palm.
Her eyes widened. "It's… bonded to me."
"Then it was meant to," John said simply.
Her gaze softened. "Thank you."
He shrugged, trying not to smile. "Call it a team investment."
Their peace shattered with a shout echoing down the next street.
"Double or nothing!"
They turned the corner to find Blake surrounded by laughing Revenakians. Cards flicked between his fingers; coins piled high in front of him. Rin, the old poison master, leaned against the wall behind him, watching with mild disapproval.
"Blake," Tamara said flatly.
John folded his arms. "Really?"
Before Blake could reply, Rin lazily raised a finger. A puff of faint purple mist spread over the table. The cards dissolved.
"Lesson three," Rin said, eyes half-lidded. "Greed dulls instinct."
The crowd groaned and scattered. Blake coughed through the haze. "You trying to kill the fun, old man?"
"Just the stupidity," Rin replied. "Consider yourself purified."
John grabbed Blake by the collar. "Come on, high roller. We've got enough trouble."
"I was gathering intel," Blake grumbled.
"Sure," Tamara said. "Right out of someone's wallet."
Before their bickering could continue, light flared above them—the sigil of Leto burning across the sky like a second sun.
"All of you," his voice boomed, "report to the outer court."
Moments later, they stood at the Citadel's open gate. Beyond it shimmered the great barrier, vast and rippling, separating Revenak's glowing lands from the shadowed wilderness outside.
Leto, Ser Alina, and Rin stood before them, framed by dawnlight.
"The time has come," Leto began. "Tomorrow, the Great Hunt begins."
Blake frowned. "The what-now?"
Tamara's eyes narrowed. "You're sending us outside the barrier?"
Leto nodded. "The Light can no longer stay sheltered. The darkness grows bolder with every passing moon. The Hunt exists to keep it at bay—to reclaim fragments of lost Light before the shadow devours them."
Rin folded his arms. "Each year, the strongest of Revenak walk into the dark. Few return."
"Sounds inspiring," Blake muttered.
Leto ignored him. His gaze turned to John. "You've heard whispers of Dark Light, haven't you?"
John hesitated. "Some. Enough to know it's dangerous."
"More than dangerous," Leto said. "It's Light that has been corrupted—twisted by the will of the Dark Master himself. When absorbed, its power surpasses that of pure Light by tenfold. But every drop stains the soul."
Tamara frowned. "You mean… it changes you?"
Leto nodded gravely. "Body, mind, and core. The more you take, the more it feeds on what you are. Eventually, there is no difference between you and the things you hunt."
A heavy silence settled. Even Blake's usual smirk faltered.
"So why risk it?" John asked. "Why not destroy it?"
"Because we can't," Alina said quietly. "Light and Dark are the same origin—opposing halves of creation. The darkness must be fought with its own reflection."
Leto's eyes locked with John's. "You'll learn that soon enough. The Great Hunt isn't just survival—it's revelation."
John exhaled, gaze fixed on the horizon where the barrier shimmered like molten glass.
He could feel it even from here—the pressure beyond, the pull of something ancient waiting in the dark.
The Eve of the Hunt
The courtyard emptied slowly, leaving only the trio beneath the flickering barrier's glow.
Tamara's fingers traced the hilt of her new sword. "You think we're ready for this?"
John didn't answer right away. He looked at Ember, who was staring through the barrier, fur bristling faintly.
"I don't think anyone ever is," he said finally. "But we'll learn."
Blake gave a weak laugh. "Great. Learning on the job. My favorite."
Tamara's smile returned, faint but real. "Just don't lose your head, Blake."
"No promises."
Leto's voice carried from the stairs. "Rest while you can. When dawn breaks, the Light will face its shadow."
As he vanished into the Citadel's glow, the air grew still. The barrier shimmered like water on fire. Beyond it, unseen eyes opened in the dark, watching, waiting