The Duskblade Chronicles: Solace of a Shadow

Introduction

Somewhere, in another place, in another time, is a world not so different from what our own world once was. Bellakalare is governed by the High Lord, and below that High Lord are the seven Lords who are the caretakers of the 364 guilds that each practices a trade at the master level. On the world of Bellakalare, the fates decide all, and the gods are their pawns. But Lilith is arising; she is the queen of all of the devilish creatures called daemons.

Not so long ago, there was a boy, a child of the royal house who was fathered by one of the beasts. When he reached his eighth birthday, the essence was mature. The daemon within him had awoken. For days and weeks, the daemon struggled to make him a conduit of its evil energies but the child was the stronger. He, like no other, could control the magics of the essence that possessed him. He was one of the few who could take the fiery plane by storm.

Her village was massacred; one by one, he took their lives. Now she’s out to take his. She escaped by what might be called a miracle, freeing another in her flight. In gratitude, he gave her a dagger that may be her only hope for survival when surreal matters take over her life.

Another, younger than the others, was lost on the day that marked her first year. She was found and made into a powerful sorceress by a man of legend. She may have the answer to his life’s dream, but it seems she must find her own answers.

Her family ended in her tenth year. But the next day a new family began. The High Lord became her surrogate father. With his guidance, she has become more powerful than she could ever imagine. She has become master of the Duskblade, a warrior’s guild, promoting the virtues of the blade. Kill or be killed. Hunt or be hunted. Sometimes a knife is the only way out. Rivals aren’t meant to survive. And vengeance is always sweet. But now he’s dead, so the one who killed him will have to learn the blade’s values, the hard way.

In the east of Bellakalare, where life depends on your skill with the blade is a guild called the Duskblade and the young woman who is master must see that her beloved nation is not throne into chaos by one single swipe of a knife. Three leagues away is a man, Lance he is called, a man with a secret. Lance is the master of a guild of the weapon, rival to even the renowned Duskblade. When the rivals meet in desperate measures secrets are revealed, conflicts resolved, and new problems develop in the midst of so many others.

Prologue

I am Shadow of Ashport; I am a warrior. Many things have happened since I became the guildmaster of the Duskblade, so many. Sometimes I wonder what would happened if I would not have taken that path. What would have happed if I were never part of the Duskblade? Where would I be right now? I don’t care for those answers, for it was fate that chose my path, not I. Thomas was caught up in the skein fate has woven, but through his death, so many others have found life. Eve smiles when I tell her of her uncle; her laughter makes the war seem worthwhile.

High Lord Thomas was my dear friend; he helped me through so much in these last years. If it were not for him I would never have gotten this far, without the lessons he taught me I would never have found love, friendship, or my strength in arms. He was my salvation, for without him I would be dead. I would be nothing more than a skeleton picked clean of flesh by blackbirds in the forest near my childhood home’s ashes. So I thank you Thomas, my surrogate father. You were there when no one else was, you still are. I know you are watching.

You have taught me all that I know; you make my happiness possible. Without you, I am nothing but a child, but with you, I am a mother. Please, Thomas, hear me, as you heard the cries of a child when no one else could. You saved that child and made her more than she ever believed she could become.

The Sagittarius line and your own have become one, now, Thomas, my father, may you know that I am the end of my line. Eve is of your line. Now, as I become High Lady of Bellakalare I thank you for all that you taught me. I thank also Macy, Marina, Breanna, Cassie, and most of all Lance; they were the people who won this war, not I. As I receive the scepter that will be in my grasp as I help to rule our nation, I thank the patriots to our dear country, Bellakalare, for patriots are those who win wars.

Part I: Red Cowls

Her hands spoke of many battles. A round scar echoed of an arrow, and thin scars covered her arms like cobwebs in recollection of five years of training and many battles in the four years afterward.

The oak door creaked open, her hand automatically dropped to the emerald encrusted hilt of the sword at her hip. “It’s me, Diana,” a woman called, using Shadow’s nickname, her voice fluctuated like the sea, for she was of the sea.

“Why did you not say so, Marina, my friend?” Diana replied, by her accent it was apparent that she was not naturally of this part of the world.

The woman with light hair and eyes completed her entrance, ‘I ’ave not seen ye since the combat academy, Shadow,” blinked Marina Valar, Scourge of the Daniqua Sea.

Shadow smiled “I wondered when again I’d see you,” she said embracing her friend.

“Shadow, friend, I am ’ere on business,” Marina said grimly, the happiness Shadow had once known her to hold no longer reflected in her eyes. “High Lord Thomas ’as been murdered.”

The smile left Shadow’s face “Murdered! High Lord Thomas was a mentor and a friend,” Shadow said forcing a silhouette of stoicism upon herself.

“A lover?” Marina asked sensing Diana’s grief, for not often was emotions betrayed by Shadow’s crimson orbs.

“Never, I am incapable of a preposterous thing such as love,” she spat each word out as if each was more disgusting than the prior, but there was no lie in her eyes.

“I know only one thing ’o the murderer, his name is Lance. I suspect ye know of ’im?” Marina said with a smirk, this guildmaster usually knew any outlaw you could name.

Shadow nearly snorted “Lance, named for one of the most direct of weapons, he is named wrongly. He specializes in stealth, and is employing a score-and-a-half of assassins at any given moment. He is dangerous, but so am I,” she said. In one elegant movement, so fast the unknowing would have sworn nothing had happened; she plucked a dagger from an unseen place and was coolly twirling it between her fingers. “Sweet revenge,” she muttered, leaving the room taking no notice whatsoever of Marina.

Marina spun on her heel, grabbed Shadows wrists, and pulled her back in to the study. “Guildmaster Diana, ye know as well as I, business such as this doesn’t go about pleasantly, left unplanned! Where ’as your attitude of stolidity gone?” Marina demanded.

Shadow replaced her dagger to her left boot, her dignified manner quickly returning to her. “You are correct, my friend, Thomas has been a mentor and friend since my tenth year. He was a skilled man, more skilled than even I; he died young, he was but five years to my elder,” she forced indifference into her voice.

The brass knocker sent an echo like that of a woodpecker searching for burrowing grubs. “At dusk find me at the Prowling Panther Inn,” Marina said slipping down one of the many secret exits of the Duskblade guild headquarters.

“Enter,” Shadow called to the one who knocked.

Daniel walked in, hesitantly. With a cautious glance at Shadow he said “A recruit, guildmaster, Macy DeLain,” he pushed a young girl from the doorway.

“Get your filthy hands away from me, you stupid slave!” the girl said pulling a long, curved dagger from her belt, the dagger was a fine weapon, probably of Elven smith, the hilt was ruby-colored, though it could not be ruby for it spiraled amazingly, something a normal jewel was to brittle to do. In the child’s dark eyes was a profound hate.

Macy surprised Shadow, usually recruits weren’t this young. Four years ago she had been the youngest recruit in half a century, now she was the youngest guildmaster- in the history of the guild. “There’ll be none of that, girl. Daniel is no slave, he does in fact currently rank higher than yourself,” Shadow threw the girl a devious smile. “Sit.”

“Guildmaster,” Macy said simply, imparting a leer upon Shadow that would have cowed a wolf. Shadow studied the girl’s face, great emotions starred back at her. There were lines near her lips reflecting past smiles, but now it was as though, as though no happiness was permitted in those eyes, eyes that were like those of a wolf, eyes that acidly hunted for their next prey.

“Tell me, child, what might your age be?” asked Shadow, the young girl’s nerve and hate had piqued her interest.

“I left behind the world of a child long ago. I am thirteen, six years younger than yourself,” said Macy, coldly. Her dark hair made her look truly menacing, like a personification of chaos.

Shadow let an amused smile settle on her lips; “Are you trained in arms?” she inquired.

Macy glanced at her dagger. “Nay, necessity has shown me the way of weapons. Before they allowed me to enter your sentries took my bow, staff, and broadsword.”

“Explain,” Shadow said, picking a broadsword from a shelf on the wall and handing it to Macy. “Daniel, we duel on your word.” The way girl handled herself, Shadow had a feeling she did, in fact, know the way of the weapon.

Shadow drew her rapier; the emeralds glinted gaily in the candlelight, as Daniel reentered “Swords at the ready. Begin!” he shouted.

From Daniel’s viewpoint the duel looked like a harmonized dance. Macy spun to evade a blow and Shadow came in pursuit only to have her next blow parried. As elegant and as powerful as a tornado it went on, neither succeeding to come closer to the other until it was apparent that neither could or would prevail over the other. Daniel declared it a draw.

Shadow did nothing to conceal her smile. “Grim necessity has trained you well. Accepted you are, to the renowned Duskblade guild.”

Macy’s grin seemed to light up her face; in the blink of an eye the young girl had gone from a dark, violent child to an intelligent and purely beautiful warrior. “My rank?”

“Apprentice to the guildmaster,” Shadow replied. “Retrieve your weapons from the anteroom; we have an appointment at dusk.”

Macy slipped out of the room and into the torch lit hall. Her pace quickened as she made for the antechamber; the hall was empty, but she had the peculiar sensation that she was being watched. In the anteroom three guards greeted her.

“Name and rank, Miss?” the youngest asked, he appeared to be about seventeen.

“Yours first,” Macy spat picking up her broadsword, cloak, staff, bow, and quiver. She pulled her cloak around her. She flicked her ebon hair over her shoulders.

“Samuel, armory attendant and master of archery, though I believe I asked you first,” he said with an aura of stateliness about him.

Macy replied, “I am Macy DeLain, guildmaster’s apprentice.” She smiled with pride in her new title; her smile did not reach her eyes, for hidden within her there was a deep sorrow.

“You speak with deceit; never has the guild master ever favored anyone enough to take an apprentice,” another of the guards spat skeptically, he was a small man, his silvered hair and deeply wrinkled features gave him the appearance of one with a weak character.

“Nemesis, she speaks the truth,” Shadow spoke evenly, appearing as if from nowhere. The guard bowed his head in silent apology. Shadow pretended not to notice. “Come, child, we depart for the Prowling Panther Inn. Samuel, I want a score of archers around the inn. If Marina, Macy, or I are in danger you know what to do.”

Samuel nodded and made for a set of doors, as he opened the heavy oaken doors, candlelight reflected merrily from the blades of thousands of weapons.

† † † † † †

Starbane vaulted out of the window. It was her, he was positive. She carried the dagger that was the last defense from the daemons of the dark. He could feel the mystic powers of it. It made his head pulse. He could feel it blocking his mind-sight.

That was the dagger. That was Draco Op; the eye of the dragon. It was sought for by daemons for it was the only mortal-smithed weapon that could bring forth their downfall. It had disappeared years ago when a westerner had won it in a daemons wager. When the westerner had fallen the daemons had once again resumed their search for the weapon.

He didn’t want the dagger; no, he sought the youth who carried it, for she was the only one who could end the war that was quick beginning.

The plane of dreams was being overtaken by the daemons of the dark. Lilith’s legions were unifying. They where leaving the plane of fire, and looking for a new place to take residence. Now, instead of the few rogue daemons on the other planes, on all but the material plane they were swarming. Some, the daemons of light, tried to protect the planes, like patron saints they preserved the plane until they, too, where overtaken. Cassandra knew this, and now, she would know about the girl, the girl who was so close to the prophesized warrior.

† † † † † †

Shadow opened the set of doors from which Macy had entered a few hours earlier. The cool nighttime air met their skin as they strode casually to the Panther.

“What business does the guild have at the Panther?” Macy asked.

“None, but I do. An old friend has informed me of the murder of another old friend,” Shadow replied, no emotion betrayed by her soft tone.

“Marina, as in Marina Valar scourge of the Daniqua Sea?” she inquired curiously.

“Yes, girl, pull your cowl over your face; draw not attention to two women after dusk. You ask many questions, now it is my turn. Do you know of Lance?” asked Shadow.

Macy’s face did an odd twist. “I do.” She pulled the hood of her cloak over her face.

“What, then, of him do you know?” Shadow inquired.

Macy remained silent as long as she dared; slight sprinkles fell from the heavens. She cleared her throat, “He slaughtered my village, one by one. After he killed my mother, my dear brother taught me the ways of the sword, after they murdered him I taught myself. My rage and sorrow provided motivation. I surpassed what I had presumed to be my limits a thousand times. His defenses were and are strong, but I was the stronger. I think I cut down a score of his men fleeing from Rowanbrooke. No one knows what he looks like; he wears a scarlet cloak, the hood pulled over his face.” Macy was relieved that her story was completed. She had just retold the worst part of her short life; under her cowl tears streamed down her fair face.

“Take down your veil, girl, archers are in range,” Shadow commanded. Macy flipped her hood over her shoulders, “You weep?” Shadow inquired.

“Every warrior has their flaws,” Macy said with a quivering voice, “Mine is my emotions. I knew everyone in the village, it was awful. Do you know what it is like to see your baby sister beaten to death, her tiny eyes staring at you, almost accusingly? I loved my family and I miss them and I’ll always miss them to the day I meet them in the afterlife.”

Shadow looked at her, intrigued, “I have never and probably will never have any idea what love is,” she said. “We approach the Prowling Panther Inn.”

Macy wiped the tears from her face as they walked into the Inn. The warm ale-scented air met their faces, stealing away the bite of the air at dusk this time of year in Ashport. Many gave the two a wide berth, seeing the insignia of the renowned Duskblade on Shadow’s cloak.

“What can I be gettin’ ye women,” the homely, old innkeeper asked, his plum-like cheeks curling into a smile at Shadow, one of his very best customers, on account of she headed the building that housed hundreds of cutthroats who liked a drink and a bed after receiving their pay.

“Nothing, Marcus, is Marina here?” Shadow asked her eyes flickered to the doorway at the back of the room that stank of ale, tobacco, and rancid milk.

“Yes, she be o’er in the next room” Marcus replied.

Shadow and Macy carefully chose a path between men and broken mugs of ale that lay on the floor, to the back of the room where a doorway led to a second room, this one private, usually reserved for merchants, or any person who chose to pay the rather large price.

Marina greeted them “’Ello Shadow and --?”

“Macy, my apprentice, recruited to the guild shortly after you left this morning, Marina” Shadow said.

“Diana, yer breakin’- an apprentice!? If I ever knew someone who could ignore their emotions it was ye, but today ye act as though-as though, something’s wrong with ye, Shadow” Marina said.

“I fear that my duel with Lance may be my last. Beside the girl can fight as well as I” Shadow retorted.

“Daniel judged?” Marina asked in disbelief her hazel eyes growing wide.

Shadow nodded “Best judge I could find, and he declared it a draw.”

“Girl ye’ve got great potential, do you realize ye made a draw with the best swordsman in Bellakalare?” inquired Marina.

“Back to business,” Shadow reminded sternly. “Lance’s center of operations is located in Tarnac’s Garrison. We’ll attack before word of our departure spreads, tomorrow at dusk. Do you think my archers necessary, Marina? Samuel’s covering us now.”

“Danger at the Panther, ye kiddin’? Me men like to ’ave a deck under foot, but they can twirl their swords just as fast on land, they’ll be comin‘” Marina said.

“Samuel will be coming and a score of archers. Midday we meet at the Solemnroot copse; our business is done. Tomorrow Lance meets his demise,” Shadow said with a vengeful grin.

It took a slow run for Macy to keep up with Shadow’s excited pace. As they arrived Shadow explained to Macy of the whereabouts of her quarters and her part in Shadow’s plan.

† † † † † †

“Macy, Guildmaster Shadow commands you to wake, and dress with haste, for business is in need of completing,” a servant’s voice rang; the soft voice came from the doorway, just loud enough to wake the sleeping girl. Macy rolled off of the hard straw mattress and pulled on a tunic, trousers, and a cloak that bore the Duskblade’s insignia and hurried to Shadow’s study.

“It’s about time DeLain,” Shadow scolded “Lance is powerful, remember that when battle-lust has so blinded you. We march in twenty minutes to Solemnroot copse with Sam’s archers, where we will be met by Marina and her men. ’Tis ten miles to the copse and another eight to Tarnac’s Garrison.” Shadow said this all very quickly whilst tossing Macy various pieces of armor until Macy had a full set of both plate and mail armor. Macy chose the chain mail as she was ushered into the next room by Shadow.

† † † † † †

Rain fell from the sky like tears from tortured angels. Even the most light-footed of Samuel’s archers left footprints. Shadow and Macy set a fairly quick pace, trudging through the mud and muck. They kept at their pace until midday when they came upon two score of the most exotic men Macy had ever seen. Some were missing eyes, others legs. Some were covered in tattoos, some were clean shaven, and a few had their long beards tucked in to their belts.

“The men of Marina Valar, the scourge of Daniqua Sea!” Marina announced raising her sword in a sort of solute. Each of the men followed suit and dropped their weapons to their side as she did.

“We march for Tarnac’s Garrison! We march for the downfall on Lance, master of Wyvernweapon guild!” Shadow cried and began to march, her men and she beginning to forge a path through the wilds.

An hour later they concealed themselves in the dense brush of the forest on the outskirts of Tarnac’s Garrison, waiting for dusk. Even in the eyes of the most controlled of the men was the fiery, burning glint of battle-lust.

The sun moved slowly across the sky, sinking beneath the horizon. “We move,” Shadow whispered making the first sound since mid-afternoon. The men followed silently behind her.

Shadow approached a two-story building with no signs outside. “This is it, Shadow,” she whispered inaudibly to herself, pulling a grappling hook from her belt, and she tossed it to the building’s top and signaled for Macy, Samuel, Marina, and one of the pirates to follow. The rest of the men were to guard the premises, assuring that there were no witnesses. Shadow began to scale the building as another grappling hook took hold of the building’s top.

When they neared the top Shadow signaled that there were no sentries posted at this point of the building. A precaution that she would never have spared was it her guild! She sighed noiselessly, what an unexpected relief.

Shadow hopped nimbly over the top, quickly locating the trapdoor. She motioned for the others to follow. She grasped the brass handle; cautiously she looked around before pulling open the rough wood of the trapdoor. She dropped herself stealthily to the floor, hardly making a sound. She waited silently for her eyes to adjust to the bright, candlelit interior.

Macy dropped to the marble floor behind Shadow; she pulled the cowl over her face. She sensed danger, but she ignored it, danger was an every day variable in a warrior’s shoes.

A guard stood by the staircase ahead. He didn’t notice the party until he looked down and the vision registered of the arrow, protruding from his chest.

They silently proceeded down the steps. Shadow shook her head “It is too easy,” she whispered. She signaled for them to stay put and alone she walked silently to the main hall. It was a mistake, perhaps the biggest mistake of her life.

The main doors burst open and a man threw down his scarlet cowl. Raven black hair fell to his shoulders, complementing his dark eyes and handsome face. This was Lance, guildmaster of Wyvernweapon guild.

Shadow pulled a broadsword from the scabbard at her hip. “I have come to end your grim existence, guildmaster Lance.”

Lance looked at the beautiful woman in confusion. He pulled his own sword from his scabbard. “Warriors of the Wyvern your home is invaded!” he shouted.

In one moment three things happened. At least three score of men burst out of many, many unseen places. Macy bolted to Shadow’s aid, and Lance engaged in duel against Shadow.

Such a challenge Shadow had never faced. She thrusted, parried, evaded, and thrusted again, barely staying inches from Lance’s blade. She stumbled, turning the stumble in to a roll, and flipping back to her feet four yards from Lance’s blade.

A man caught Macy by her arms, and held tight as she kicked at him. She twisted nearly screaming, it wouldn’t happen, not again would she be taken captive by Lance.

“Do not seriously injure them, captive take them!” Lance yelled nearly breathless, trying to stay a few steps ahead of Shadow.

Macy kicked at her captor, frantically twisting every which way in attempt to free herself. Something hit her particularly hard in the back of the head, and her small body fell limp.

Shadow drew her breath fast. Her stamina was waning but she quick was gaining the advantage. Then, she had him cornered like a fox hunting a pitiful rabbit. She was about to swing her sword to finish him when an arrow caught its mark in her thigh. She crumpled to her knees. Shadow dropped her sword in agony, she swallowed hard. “Release the girl, do as you wish with me,” she murmured as the world became a blur of color, pain pulsed in her brain and her thigh burned like nothing she had ever known before. She could feel hot blood streaming over her legs and abdomen, and then consciousness left her.

† † † † † †

“Kamene, I told you not to seriously injure any of them!” a man yelled in rage. His voice quivered with something more, fear maybe, that the woman he held captive was fatally injured?

“But guildmaster, she would have killed you, you do realize that?” The second man shook his head as he saw the look in Lance’s eyes “Ra’al, save us, he realizes.”

Lance smiled “Dismissed, go check the girl.” The door shut with a click.

Shadow snapped her eyes shut when she realized he was looking at her. He didn’t seem to notice she was conscious.

“I soon hope that you will wake, Shadow,” she could hear the smile in his voice, “Diana, your nickname suits you, for a beautiful huntress you are.”

She flickered her eyes, as though she was waking. She looked up to see his face. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen, it was a shame he was marked for death. Her hand dropped to her belt in search of her sword or dagger. “Weapons,” the single word escaped from her cracked, parched lips.

“Here,” he said pushing a flask of water into her hands. “You have been awake since Kamene left, you are a good actress, Shadow,” he continued. “Drink, you have been unconscious for nearly a week, with none more skilled than I to tend to your wound. You have lost much blood.”

Shadow threw him a distrustful look, but took the water gratefully. “Where are the ones I came with, Macy, Marina, and Samuel?” Shadow blinked.

Lance smiled as though amused “The pirates and the archer were released with a truce. The girl is still captive, she attacks anyone who enters her cell,” he said simply.

“Let me speak with her,” Shadow demanded, sitting up and finding a pounding headache to greet her. She rubbed her temples and winced away the pain.

“You are too weak,” he said “You should rest.”

Shadow stood on her good leg, Lance did nothing to stop her. “Then help me,” she said as she attempted to put weight on her injured leg with a grimace.

He hurried to support her weight. She allowed him to curl his strong arm around her back so that he could support enough weight so that she could briefly put weight on her injured leg.

She let him lead her lead her down the corridor to a door where a beating noise resounded from the whitewashed walls.

“She is kept in here,” he said, “You may want her to know that it is you. She has attacked every single man who has attempted to deliver her meals,” he said with a weak smile.

“It is I, guildmaster Shadow, Macy. Lance is here also, but I need help to walk,” she called through the door. The pounding noise ceased. Lance opened the door.

Macy was in a sorry state. Dried blood matted her hair. Her hands were bloodied from attempting to break through the door. Her face was tear streaked and her cheek was bleeding.

“She would not allow me to tend to her wounds,” Lance said, obviously rueful at the sight of the young warrior.

Shadow understood. Macy had not eaten nor drank for a week. And if Shadow knew the girl she knew that she wouldn’t dare rest in the midst of the enemy. Macy’s childhood had been short-lived, her mind was disciplined. But the defenses of Macy’s mind had cracked. The child that still existed in Macy took over and she began to cry desperately. Shadow sat down beside the child and hugged her as a mother would. “Shh… let Lance and I help you,” she whispered reassuringly, though Shadow had no idea if she really trusted Lance at all.

Macy nodded regaining her usual manner and dignity quickly. She pushed Shadow away. Faint from dehydration, Macy followed Lance, who was again helping Shadow walk.

† † † † † †

“Beautiful Shadow, someone impersonates me, I fear. Twas not I who killed Macy’s people, or High Lord Thomas, my friend was he,” Lance said, a look of great sorrow in his eyes as he spoke of Thomas’ death.

“How am I to trust this?” Shadow asked, as she sipped from a glass of wine.

“I have nothing but my word. The High Lord spoke fondly of ‘his Shadow.’ He was like a father to you though he was but five years to your elder,” Lance spoke softly.

“How did you learn of this?” Shadow demanded, amazed by his accurate assessment. She nearly choked.

“Thomas was my dear brother. When he trained you I would often watch from the shadows, Shadow, a beautiful maiden with her blade whistling through the air. I miss him, as you do,” Lance explained his deep voice hardly more than a whisper.

Shadow threw herself into his arms, into an embrace, tears streaming down her face for the first time since she was six-years-old. He knew it well, she was a hardened warrior who had to hide her emotions, and her barrier was broken. Years of sorrow, stress, and anger streamed down her face. Lance felt her salty tears seep into his scarlet tunic.

Shadow kissed him passionately; she wasn’t sure what made her do it; it just seemed so appropriate for the moment. This was the moment that Macy chose to return.

“Guildmaster? W-why do you socialize so with the enemy?” Macy implored, most obviously appalled at Shadow.

“Do you not see, DeLain?” Shadow asked between kisses “This is High Lord Thomas’ brother.” Shadow pressed her lips quickly to Lance’s.

Lance helped Shadow back to her seat. “This girl possesses the gift of mind-sight. As do I, but I did not sense it before,” Lance threw Macy a curious glance.

“You both have the gift of emotion reading?” Shadow asked in disbelief.

“Indeed,” he said placing a hand on Shadows shoulder. He sensed two emotions one, disbelief, coming from Shadow, and another that he and she shared, it confused him at first, it was warm like passion or desire, but much stronger. Lance had never subscribed to the idea of love at first glance but, then he realized it, two warriors, two guildmasters, it was love.

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Hoped you liked! Chapter 2 coming soon

-Corinne