Page 166 of Elemental Becoming

And his eyes burn. A malignant light, searing and purposeful.

My eyes land on the mark on his ashen skin.

Etched onto his throat, glowing faintly as it shifts between deep violet and endless black. The unmistakable mark of the Shadeheart.

I have only ever seen it in books. A crescent moon enclosing a jagged star, tendrils spiraling outward from its center. On the page, it was ink on parchment. Here, it pulses with something else entirely.

Something alive. Something watching me back.

A memory stirs, cutting through my shock.

Valen’s voice.

Always patient. Always guiding.

“A Shadow Commander is more than just a leader,”he had once said, tracing the symbol carefully across the worn pages of an ancient tome.“They are the Shadeheart’s chosen. Her enforcers. Her executioners. They do not simply serve her.”

Valen’s fingers had tapped the page, the glow of the candlelight making the ink shimmer.

“They carry her will. Her power. Her mark is not a title.”His gaze had lifted to mine then, quieter and infinitely heavier.“It is a bond. And once bound . . . they do not break free.”

I swallow hard as understanding slams into me all at once. This isn’t just another shadow soldier. This is a Shadow Commander. And he is here for me.

“The Spiritborn . . . ”

The voice shifts between tones, layered with overlapping voices that sound ancient and profoundly wrong.

“Did you think we would not come for you?”

The world narrows.

The clash of steel and magics. The screams. The scents of blood and fire.

All of it fades.

The battlefield shrinks to this single moment—to the Commander’s gaze pinning me in place.

The rest of the fight still rages, but I don’t hear it. Don’t smell the smoke. Don’t feel the heat of the flames curling around Thane’s fists.

There is only this voice. Only this presence.

A hollow dread sinks deep into my chest, as though the Commander’s words have carved through reality itself, pulling me toward something deeper. Something colder.

Thane steps forward, positioning himself between me and the commander, his presence solid, immovable. His voice drops into a low growl edged with steel.

“Stay close.”

I nod, though my thoughts are already racing ahead, calculations colliding faster than I can fully process them. I can’t rely solely on magics. This battle requires more than raw power. It requires strategy, something I am still learning.

The shadows surrounding the Commander coil and writhe, serpentine and alive, their dark tendrils slithering like vipers poised to strike. The sheer weight of their presence presses against me, the air growing thick and suffocating.

I reach for Thane instinctively, my fingers slipping between his. His grip tightens, grounding me instantly. His eyes lock with mine, determination blazing in them.

“They have not won,” he says, his voice a promise, fierce and unyielding. “We are not done fighting yet.”

Then, without taking his gaze off the commander, Thane speaks again.

Low. Lethal. A vow carved into the air between us.