Sundered by Fate (Shadowbound #3)

Chapter 6

Six

T he sun set over Thornhaven, casting long shadows that danced and flickered with an eerie light. Aric stood atop the town's walls, staring out at the horizon as he tried to ignore the shouts and cries of the townsfolk around him. A line of Pureblades was forming near the gates, while Silver Tower mages huddled together in frantic discussion. Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, its mournful chime ringing out through the air.

"Hey, you." Davin's voice cut through the chaos, drawing Aric's attention. He climbed up onto the parapet beside him, his usually bright eyes now shadowed with worry. "Thought you might be up here."

"Where else would I be?" Aric replied with a faint smile. But even as he spoke the words, he felt a shiver run down his spine—a sense of something dark and terrible drawing closer.

For all he'd seen and done and failed to do, Aric hadn't truly believed the demons would come here. Not like this. Not with such force. But now, while Aric watched the horizon darken with unnatural clouds, he knew they were out of time.

A sickly greenish glow lit up the clouds from below, and a low, throbbing hum filled the air as if coming from all around them at once.

"We need to prepare," Davin said quietly, his hand brushing Aric's where they both gripped the stone wall. "Thornhaven's ready to fight, but I don't know how much use we can be against whatever that is." He glanced over at Aric, a question in his eyes.

Aric nodded silently; he'd been thinking much the same thing ever since the vision hit him. The anomaly was powerful enough that even now it made his head swim just trying to process it all—it felt like staring into an abyss so vast and deep that he couldn't even comprehend what lay within.

But they had no choice now; they'd come too far to turn back from this fight—even if it meant facing down their greatest fears in order to protect those they loved.

As night fell fully over Thornhaven's walls and dark shapes loomed on the horizon against flames of crimson fire licking up into storm-black clouds overhead Aric felt an icy pit open up inside him—a yawning chasm threatening to swallow him whole.

Aric tried to stay calm, assessing the battlefield before them. The demonic forces massing on the other side of the forest, their hideous cries echoing off the hills. He wondered if he knew this commander whose army pushed toward them.

Aric caught himself mentally listing the faces he'd known, each worse than the last. Vizra and Karthax, and the vulgar siege monstrosities of the Fleshshaper. Zrik, whispering poisoned spells at his back. Raxana, dressing their doom up like diplomacy.

Malekith and his general, Vezera, at his side.

Or someone else entirely, heresy pounding from somewhere deep in Aric's memories; at this rate, it seemed the entire legion could gather in their vanguard for Thornhaven's reckoning.

A thought so poisonous he didn't dare confront it outright slipped into Aric's mind unbidden as he stared into the emerald light: were they headed for Thornhaven in search of him?

Aric watched their forces surge through the forest, a writhing mass of shadows and smoke. The air shimmered with heat and magic, distorting the landscape as if through a broken lens.

"All right," Aric said, forcing his voice to steady. "We can do this. We've faced worse."

Davin gave him a dubious look but nodded. "What's the plan?"

Aric's mind raced, cataloging their available defenses. The Silver Tower mages had woven temporary wards around the town's perimeter, reinforcing the ancient protections that lay buried beneath Thornhaven's foundations. Nothing like the wards that once held on this side of the kingdom, but they would have to suffice. Pureblade knights waited in disciplined ranks, their swords and shields gleaming in the early light.

"We'll hold them at the walls as long as we can," Aric said. "Mages on the ramparts, ready to counter their spells. Archers targeting any fliers. And if they breach the gates . . ."

He trailed off, unwilling to voice that possibility.

A tremor ran through the earth as the first wave of demons slammed into the wards. The air crackled with lightning and fire as the mages unleashed their spells, bolts of energy arcing toward the shadowy forms beyond the walls.

Aric added his own magic to theirs, conjuring golden flames like molten gold in his palms. The heat of it seared his skin, but he held it steady, letting the magic build until it roared like a furnace.

"Let's make them regret ever setting foot on human soil," he said, his voice a low growl.

The demon army crashed against Thornhaven's outer defenses with the force of a hurricane. Aric stood firm, channeling his magic into the wards as he tried to maintain his grip on reality. The golden flames in his palms blazed white-hot, searing the air as he poured his power into the barriers.

Yet while he fought, he felt something shifting in the back of his mind. A dark presence, coiling and twisting like a shadow in the depths of his consciousness. His bond with Malekith, surging with unbidden strength.

Aric grit his teeth, trying to push the sensation away. He couldn't afford distractions now; not with the fate of Thornhaven hanging in the balance.

With a shout, he willed the shadows to solidify, forming walls of darkness to reinforce the town's defenses. The barriers loomed above the ramparts, their surfaces writhing and shifting as they absorbed the brunt of the demonic assault.

For a moment, it was enough. But then the ground shook, and a massive figure stepped out from the forest.

Aric froze, his heart lurching in his chest. The demon was enormous, its twisted form a nightmarish fusion of man and beast. Its skin glistened like polished obsidian, and its eyes burned with an unholy light.

A demon lord—but not one Aric recognized. Not from the courts or the battlefields he'd haunted for so long.

And yet its presence filled him with an inexplicable sense of dread.

"Who—?" Aric started to ask, but his voice faltered. Whatever this new demon's identity, it didn't matter; all that mattered was stopping it before it tore through Thornhaven's defenses like paper.

With renewed determination, Aric faced down this new threat head-on—ready to do whatever it took to protect what he held dear.

As the demon horde surged, Aric danced along the ramparts, hurling waves of golden fire that sought out demons with unerring accuracy. But the magical currents thrummed and jittered around him, an angry storm barely held in check. Each spell cast seemed to tear the air further, reality fraying at the edges.

Nearby, other mages struggled with their incantations. Some lost control entirely, their spells backfiring in bursts of color and sound. A pillar of flame erupted from one poor soul's staff, immolating him instantly. Another was engulfed in a thick fog, emerging seconds later as a twisted abomination.

"Get a hold of yourselves!" a battlemage barked, trying to rally them. "The anomaly's just making things more interesting!"

Aric knew better than most how dangerous their magic was becoming. His own connection to it was like a live wire, threatening to burn him out if he wasn't careful.

He had to stay in control. If he lost himself in the fires, there was no telling what might emerge.

As the battle raged on, Aric's eyes were drawn to a figure fighting amidst the chaos. Clad in the Pureblade Order's obsidian armor, Cyrus Revenant moved like a force of nature, his greatsword cleaving through demon flesh with merciless efficiency. Even without seeing his face, Aric recognized him instantly—the rigid posture, the relentless precision.

"Thought they'd have to drag him here kicking and screaming," Davin muttered beside him.

Aric bit back a retort as he watched Cyrus dispatch a particularly large demon with a brutal series of strikes. There was no denying the man's skill; for all their differences, Cyrus fought with a singular purpose that Aric couldn't help but respect.

For an instant, their eyes met across the battlefield. Cyrus's cold gray stare locked onto Aric's before he gave a grudging nod and turned back to his grim work.

The gesture struck Aric like a physical blow. To have the Lord Inquisitor acknowledge him, even in this dire circumstance . . .

There was no time for pride or resentment now. Only survival.

With a snarl, Aric turned back to the fray.

Something new, potent ran through currents, sending a chill up Aric's spine. He glanced around at his fellow mages, who were all too absorbed in the battle to notice.

But there it was—a steady pulse beneath the chaos. A rhythm to the storm of magic surrounding them.

Aric wove between his comrades, following the pattern as it led him toward the town square. The further he went, the stronger the currents grew, tugging at his magic like a riptide.

It was almost beautiful in its savagery. But Aric knew better than to be fooled by its allure.

The magic thrummed beneath his skin, teasing at his defenses as if trying to coax him into letting go. Into losing himself in its embrace.

He'd been down that road before. And while it might have granted him great power, the cost had always been too high.

He would not make that mistake again.

With great effort, Aric focused his mind and steeled his resolve as he approached the center of the square. The currents surged around him like a hurricane now—an implacable force straining against whatever invisible barriers held it back.

And then he saw it: A dark shape hovering above Thornhaven—a rift torn open in reality itself. Threads of emerald energy spilled forth from its depths, winding and tangling themselves together into something monstrously new.

Aric's heart hammered in his chest as he stared up at the abomination coalescing before him—the anomaly feeding on their fear and anger until it could take form.

"We've got bigger problems," Aric called out over the din of battle, his voice cracking with strain as he pointed toward the forming construct. "Something's using our magic against us—it's trying to manifest!"

Aric clenched his jaw. If only he had time. If only he'd never walked away from the things that mattered; if only he'd noticed when his life went astray—when his heart swelled with bitterness, until all he could do was look away.

"There has to be something." Davin's voice trembled, a rare break in his polished facade.

Aric's chest tightened at the sight. He longed to reach out and offer comfort—but that was a role he'd forfeited years ago.

"Davin, I need you to coordinate the defense." Aric swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Use the reserves as you see fit. I'll . . . I'll deal with this."

Davin's eyes widened. "What are you planning to do?"

Aric forced himself to smile. "Improvise."

He turned on his heel and set off toward the anomaly, fighting against the currents that threatened to sweep him away. The air shimmered and twisted around him, blurring the edges of reality.

With every step he took, he felt the shadows shifting in his mind—Malekith tugging at him, trying to draw him closer. But he couldn't let it distract him now; not when so many lives depended on him.

Aric Solarian knew how to fight. He knew how to endure. And no matter what this thing threw at him, he would see Thornhaven through this night.

In the town square, a massive rift yawned open, spilling forth tendrils of emerald energy that coiled and writhed like living things. Aric's stomach dropped as he realized what he was seeing—a convergence of the anomalies they'd been experiencing, now amplified to a catastrophic degree.

As he watched, the rift began to tear apart the fabric of reality, offering glimpses of other planes and timelines. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and magic, the currents so strong that they threatened to sweep Aric away.

"We have to stop it," Aric said, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of battle. "If that thing gets loose?—"

He didn't need to finish the sentence; they all knew what was at stake.

Aric steeled himself and waded into the vortex's current, letting the magical energies flow through him. They surged and churned beneath his skin, threatening to tear him apart from the inside out.

But Aric refused to be cowed. He was a Solarian—a survivor—and he would not go down without a fight.

With a grunt of effort, he forced the currents into order, weaving them together with threads of golden light. The vortex roiled in protest, but slowly, it began to take shape, molding itself to his will.

"Aric!" Olaya's voice rang out over the din. "What are you doing?"

He ignored her shout and focused on the magic swirling around him. It wasn't until he heard Davin's anguished cry that he realized how much energy he'd absorbed—and what it was costing him.

"Aric, please! You're going to kill yourself!"

He didn't answer. He couldn't; there was no room for anything but the desperate need to bring order to this chaotic force before it destroyed them all.

Drawing on every ounce of his magical knowledge and power, Aric attempted to stabilize the vortex. He channeled both his human and demonic magic, trying to create a harmonizing force. As he did so, he was assaulted by visions—glimpses of Malekith in chains, of Sylthris laughing, of a great magical cataclysm that could reshape the world.

The effort nearly overwhelmed him, and he felt his control slipping. The currents roared through him like a river in flood, threatening to sweep him away. His body felt heavy and sluggish, his limbs refusing to obey his commands.

He couldn't hold on much longer; he needed help.

And with that thought, a dark voice slithered through his mind—Malekith pulling at him again.

You are strong enough , it whispered. Stronger than you know. But you must let go of your fear—embrace the power within you.

Aric felt weightless, untethered as he considered the offer. He'd spent so long fighting against the darkness inside him; so long denying his true nature.

But maybe that was the problem; maybe he'd been holding back for too long.

With a shout of defiance, Aric opened himself fully to the magic coursing through him—letting it pour out in a dazzling display of light and shadow.

Aric attempted to channel the forces of magic into a barrier spell, but the vortex resisted him, its energy pulsing with a life of its own. It lashed out at him with tendrils of emerald power, knocking him back and nearly sending him tumbling off his feet.

Aric struggled to maintain his balance, his mind racing. The vortex's power was immense, far beyond anything he'd ever encountered before. It was like trying to dam a river with his bare hands.

But as he fought to regain control, he felt a strange sensation building within him—a wellspring of power that he'd never known before. It was a heady rush, filling him with a sense of invincibility and euphoria.

But it was also terrifying. He had no idea where this new power had come from, or what it might do to him if he gave in to it.

Aric hesitated, unsure. Was this the result of the magic he'd learned from Malekith? A side effect of the bond that had formed between them? Or was it something else entirely—something darker and more dangerous?

He didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to do something, and quickly. The vortex's energy was growing stronger by the second, threatening to tear Thornhaven apart.

With a deep breath, Aric reached for the new power within him, hoping that it would be enough.

The demon horde advanced with terrifying speed, their infernal chants growing louder as they closed in on the town. Aric's heart pounded as he watched the massive demon lord leading them—a hulking behemoth of muscle and rage, wreathed in dark fire.

But the closer it came, the more it seemed to fixate on Aric, its eyes blazing with an unholy hunger.

The anomaly's power surged around them, the very air crackling with malevolent energy. The wards that had protected Thornhaven were buckling under the weight of the magical storm, and the earth churned, unsteady his feet.

They were running out of time.

Desperation clawed at him, but Aric refused to give in to it. He couldn't let these creatures claim this place—couldn't let them snuff out the lives that had flourished here in defiance of the darkness.

Not now. Not when he was so close to understanding what he'd glimpsed in those dreadful visions.

Aric reached within himself, seeking out the mysterious power that had been growing inside him. It pulsed like a living thing, waiting to be unleashed.

As the demon lord loomed closer, Aric surrendered to it.

Golden energy surged through him, filling every cell with a searing heat. It was almost too much to bear—a burning torrent hungry to devour him whole.

But as he embraced it, he felt something else within him shift—a darkness that writhed and struggled against the light.

No. Not now.

With an iron will, he forced it back down—suppressing the shadowy presence that had haunted him for so long.

With newfound strength, Aric faced the anomaly. He extended his hands, golden energy sizzling between his fingers. The air around him shimmered with power as he began an intricate series of magical gestures.

The anomaly resisted, its chaotic energies fighting against Aric's attempts to contain it. Aric gritted his teeth, pushing harder, feeling the strain of the massive magical undertaking. Sweat trickled down his brow, his reserves of magic dwindling.

But still he pressed on, drawing on every last drop of strength and knowledge he possessed.

As Aric continued his magical assault on the anomaly, he experienced flashes of insight—glimpses of ancient knowledge and forgotten spells. The golden energy flowing through him seemed to carry whispers of long-lost magical lore.

Aric instinctively incorporated these new techniques into his spellwork, his actions becoming more fluid and powerful with each passing moment. He wove the threads of magic together with a precision that felt almost instinctual—as if he were merely remembering how to do it, rather than learning for the first time.

But still the anomaly resisted him, its power swelling and pulsing like a heartbeat.

Aric pushed himself harder, desperate to contain it before it was too late.

The anomaly began to shrink under Aric's onslaught, its writhing tendrils retreating into a rapidly shrinking core. Aric maintained his focus, sweat beading on his brow as he pushed the limits of his newfound abilities. Tension shivered in the air, and the ground trembling beneath him as the vortex fought back with all its might.

Aric would not relent. He poured everything he had into the spell, weaving together strands of magic and raw power in an intricate dance.

Finally, with a shuddering roar, the anomaly collapsed in on itself, leaving behind a shimmering, sealed barrier—contained, but not destroyed. The magical storm dissipated, leaving only a strange calm in its wake.

Exhausted but exhilarated, Aric lowered his hands, golden wisps of energy still clinging to his skin. He'd done it—he'd contained the anomaly, bought Thornhaven precious time.

But his moment of triumph was short-lived. The demon lord roared in fury and charged toward Aric. The ground shook with each step of the monstrous being, its eyes burning with otherworldly malevolence.

"Aric!" Davin's voice was a distant cry. "Get out of there!"

But Aric was frozen, his body numb from the force of the magical assault. He could only watch as the demon bore down on him, its massive fists raised high.

Aric raised his hands, instinctively forming a shield of golden power. The demon lord's massive claw crashed against it, the impact reverberating through his bones and sending him sliding backward.

But the shield held.

A wild, feral laugh bubbled up from Aric's chest as he marveled at the strength coursing through him. The golden energy that had felt so fragile before was now a roaring inferno, searing away the last vestiges of doubt and fear.

With renewed resolve, Aric stood his ground as the demon drew back for another strike. The golden energy surged through him once more, crackling around his fingertips as he readied himself for the next attack.

The demon lord roared, its voice a guttural howl that echoed off the stone walls. It swung its clawed hand down at Aric, but he sidestepped, his movements enhanced by the magical energy flowing through him.

With a flick of his wrist, Aric sent a bolt of golden light arcing toward the demon lord. The spell struck the demon in the chest, sending it reeling back with a pained screech. But it recovered quickly, and with a savage roar, it charged at him once more.

Aric dodged and weaved, his body moving with preternatural speed as he countered the demon's brutal attacks. He conjured shields of golden energy to deflect its strikes, then retaliated with blasts of light that seared through the demon's dark flesh.

Around them, the town square was ravaged by their conflict. Trees were uprooted and torn apart by errant spells; cobblestones shattered as the demon's massive fists pounded against them.

But Aric couldn't afford to worry about the destruction; all that mattered was stopping this creature before it turned its savagery on Thornhaven itself.

As the fight wore on, Aric noticed golden wisps forming behind his back, almost like ethereal wings. The sight both awed and unnerved him, making him wonder about the true nature of this power. But there was no time to ponder; he needed to act.

With a thought, he willed the magic to propel him upward, launching himself into the air. The demon lord's fists pounded the ground where he'd been standing a moment before, sending shockwaves through the earth.

But Aric was already soaring above it, his mind racing as he tried to plan his next move.

The demon lord glared up at him with fury in its eyes, its massive frame hulking with muscle and darkness. But now that Aric was in the air, he could see the weak spots in its armor—a seam between its thick neck and the shoulder plates; a vulnerable gap in its back where bone protruded through flesh.

With a snarl, the demon lord unleashed a torrent of dark magic, sending waves of black energy pulsing out from it in all directions. Aric crossed his arms before him, and his golden wings folded around him, forming a protective cocoon.

The dark energy crashed against his shield like a tidal wave, but the golden light held strong. Aric's teeth ground together as he focused all his strength and willpower into maintaining the barrier.

When the barrage finally ceased, Aric unfolded his wings and glared down at the demon. His aura burned brighter than ever, and the fire in his eyes was a reflection of the golden flame that raged within him.

Aric tightened his control on his magic to wrangle it into one final, devastating attack. Golden energy coalesced around his hands, forming a brilliant sphere of pure magical force.

"Enough," Aric growled, and the word reverberated with power, echoing across the battlefield.

With a cry of exertion, he hurled the sphere at the demon. The impact was catastrophic, engulfing the demon in golden light. It shrieked in agony, its monstrous form twisting and writhing as the magic seared through it.

The demon lord's form disintegrated, breaking into motes of dark energy that quickly dissipated into the night. The remaining demons, witnessing the destruction of their leader, turned and fled in terror, their once-unified assault now a chaotic rout.

Aric stood alone on the battlefield, his golden aura slowly fading. The strength that had filled him only moments before now left him feeling drained and hollowed out. But a fierce sense of triumph burned in his chest, the knowledge that he'd protected Thornhaven, at least for now.

The townsfolk began to emerge from their homes, wide-eyed and murmuring in awe. Aric's heart sank as he noticed the way they looked at him—an unspoken question hanging in the air.

He didn't have an answer for them; didn't even know how to begin explaining what had happened. And yet there was still so much more he needed to understand.

As the demon army retreated into the night, Aric slumped against the town's walls, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The golden aura around him flickered and died, leaving only a faint shimmer in its wake.

The townsfolk gathered around him, their eyes wide with awe and fear. But Aric couldn't bring himself to meet their gazes; he was too drained, too weary.

He'd done it. He'd saved Thornhaven from the demons' attack, contained the anomaly before it could cause further damage. But at what cost?

As the adrenaline faded, questions began to flood his mind. Where had this incredible power come from? Why had he been able to access it now? And what was the truth about the anomaly?

The sealed rift still pulsed faintly in the town square, a reminder of the threat that lingered even now. And they were no closer to understanding its origins or purpose.

Olaya rushed forward to check on Aric, her hands fluttering over him like she wanted to help but didn't know how. "Aric—are you all right?"

He tried to brush her off, but he could feel the exhaustion settling into his bones, the lingering aftereffects of the magic he'd drawn upon. He sagged, weary, but forced himself to stay upright.

"I'm fine," he said, though it sounded more like a gasp than anything else.

"You're not fine," Davin said, coming up beside them. He slipped an arm around Aric's waist, steadying him when his legs threatened to give out.

Aric clung to them both, grateful for their support even as he resented needing it. His pride stung at the thought of appearing weak, but he knew the dangers of pushing himself too far.

"The anomaly's even stronger than I thought," Aric said, his voice hoarse. "And the things I glimpsed in it . . ."

A shiver ran through him as he remembered the visions that had assaulted him during the battle. Flashes of other worlds and timelines, memories that weren't his own. A terrible sense of wrongness that threatened to consume him.

"We have to warn the Silver Tower," he said. "The king's court, too. They need to know what's happening."

He looked up at Olaya and Davin, their expressions grim but resolute.

"Pureblades be damned. We have no choice."

They exchanged a glance, then nodded in unison.

"Then we go back to Astaria."