An ironed poster, black ink on crumpled white, was nailed to the market post: 'By Imperial Decree: All Eclipse-marked persons are subject to tithe. Report harboring of traitors—reward assured.' Sentinels stood by it without expression.
The city blurred past Raine in streaks of shadow and flame as he ran, his breath sharp and uneven, his muscles screaming in protest. The wound on his shoulder still burned, the dark tendrils writhing beneath his skin like a living brand. He didn't dare look at it—didn't dare acknowledge the truth clawing at the edge of his mind.
He had always been fast. Always been light on his feet, quicker than the enforcers, the thieves, the gang lords that prowled the underbelly of Elarion. But tonight, no matter how fast he ran, the darkness kept pace.
The Seeker's voice still echoed in his skull.
"The blood of the Eclipse has awakened."
He had no idea what it meant, but the words had sunk into his bones like a curse, burrowing deep, whispering in a voice not his own.
His foot hit the next rooftop, sending a spray of loose shingles tumbling into the abyss below. He barely caught his balance, his fingers grasping the rotting edge of a wooden beam before vaulting forward.
Behind him, the city howled.
The Sentinels would not stop.
The Seeker would never stop.
Somewhere, deep in the labyrinth of the Forgotten Quarter, the alarms had begun to sound. The watchtowers cast their sickly orange glow across the city, their bells tolling like a death knell. The kind of alarm that meant only one thing—
Something unnatural had been seen.
Hunted.
Raine clenched his teeth, the weight of it pressing against his ribs like a vice. It didn't matter what was true or what wasn't—what mattered was that he needed to disappear.
Now.
The rooftops finally gave way to a lower section of the city, where half-sunken buildings leaned into each other like weary ghosts. The stench of damp wood and rot filled the air as Raine dropped down into a narrow alley, his landing rough, his boots splashing in stagnant water.
Here, the city was forgotten.
No guards patrolled these streets. No merchants dared to linger. The people who remained were the ones who had been swallowed whole—left to fade in the crumbling skeleton of Elarion's past.
Raine pressed himself against the cold brick, forcing his breath to steady.
He listened.
The Sentinels had not followed him down. They preferred the high ground, the rooftops, where they could move like wraiths, unseen and untouchable. If they had lost sight of him, it would take them time to find his trail again.
Time he desperately needed.
The wound on his shoulder pulsed.
Raine bit down a hiss, his fingers trembling as he reached beneath his cloak. The fabric was torn where the Sentinel's blade had cut deep, but it was not the injury that made his stomach twist.
It was what lay beneath.
The darkness pulsed from within the wound, veins of inky blackness spiderwebbing across his skin, spreading. The tendrils writhed at his touch, almost…alive.
He jerked his hand away.
No.
This wasn't real. This wasn't happening.
He had spent his entire life running from things like this. From the unnatural. From the cursed. He wasn't one of them. He wasn't—
A voice slithered through the alleyway.
"It is waking, little shadow."
Raine's breath caught.
The air shifted, thickened, coiled around him. A cold unlike any earthly chill seeped into his bones, curling its fingers around his spine.
He wasn't alone.
Slowly, he turned.
A figure emerged from the darkness, stepping from the thin veil of fog that clung to the alley's entrance.
A woman.
Tall, draped in layered robes of deep midnight, her hood pulled low over her face. Her hands—pale as bone, thin as knives—rested lightly at her sides, adorned with silver rings shaped like crescent moons.
But it was not her presence that unsettled Raine.
It was the absence of it.
She did not make a sound. No footsteps. No breath. As if she were not entirely real.
Not entirely here.
Raine's heart slammed against his ribs.
He should run. He needed to run.
But his feet refused to move.
The woman tilted her head, and though her hood obscured her face, Raine felt the weight of her gaze pressing against his skin.
"You feel it, don't you?" she murmured. Her voice was smoke and whispers, curling into the corners of his mind. "The blood. The call."
Raine didn't answer. He couldn't.
She stepped closer.
The shadows behind her moved with her, stretching unnaturally, curling like ink spilling into water.
She extended a single hand.
"Come, child of the Eclipse. You cannot outrun what you are."
Raine's breath came in ragged gasps.
He didn't know who she was. Didn't know what she was. But every instinct screamed at him that she was not of this world.
Not of the Empire.
Not of anything that should exist.
And yet.
His wound pulsed.
The darkness inside him stirred.
Raine clenched his fists, swallowing the fear threatening to choke him.
"Stay the hell away from me," he spat, forcing himself to take a step back.
The woman did not move.
But the alley around him shifted.
The walls stretched taller. The shadows grew deeper. The world around him folded inward, pressing against his senses. The city was gone—replaced by something else. Something vast.
Something waiting.
Raine's pulse pounded in his ears.
This is a dream.
It had to be.
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to breathe, to focus.
Then,
A hand gripped his wrist.
Ice.
A wave of cold fire shot through his veins, his breath hitching in his throat. His eyes snapped open, and—
The alley was normal again.
The woman was gone.
The shadows had stilled.
But her voice remained, a ghost in his mind.
"You cannot run forever."
Raine staggered back, clutching his wrist as his pulse thundered. His entire body felt like it had been submerged in ice, his lungs struggling to draw breath.
Then—
A sound.
A low, distant hum, rising from deep beneath the city.
Not bells. Not alarms.
Something older.
Something waking up.
Raine forced himself to move.
He didn't know where he was going. Didn't care.
He just knew one thing.
He wasn't running from something anymore.
He was running toward it.