Shadows of Ascension

The streets of Draelith were a labyrinth of alleys, towering buildings, and forgotten corners where the city’s lost souls gathered. Kael walked with his head low, blending into the crowd as he moved deeper into the underbelly of the city. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting harsh, artificial shadows across the streets, a pale imitation of sunlight that barely touched the ground.

He kept his hand close to the Shadowfang Dagger at his side, its presence a reminder of the power he had gained in the dungeon—and the danger that came with it. The lie he had spun to the officials earlier weighed on him, a knot of tension sitting heavy in his chest. He had delayed the inevitable, but he knew the Council would come calling eventually. They wouldn’t let a Unique Rarity creature slip through their grasp for long.

The Dreitailen stirred, a faint ripple in the shadows at his feet. Its presence was quiet, but never truly gone, always lurking just beneath the surface of his awareness. Kael wasn’t sure whether to be comforted or disturbed by it.

He ducked into a side alley, far from the prying eyes of the crowds and the Council’s patrols. The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete and stale smoke from nearby exhaust vents. This was his home—the forgotten backstreets where the orphaned, the unwanted, and the desperate gathered. It was a part of the city no one cared to visit unless they had to. For Kael, it had always been the only place that felt even remotely familiar. Safe wasn’t a word he associated with these streets, but at least here, he knew how to survive.

As Kael moved deeper into the alley, his thoughts drifted back, unbidden, to his childhood.

He couldn’t remember much about his parents. They had disappeared when he was still too young to fully understand what had happened—vanished into the shadows of the city like so many others. He didn’t know if they were dead or simply lost, but it didn’t matter. From that point on, he had been alone.

The streets had been his teacher, brutal and unrelenting. He had learned quickly how to pick pockets, dodge patrols, and disappear into the cracks of the city before anyone could catch him. Food had been scarce, and shelter even scarcer. He’d spent his nights huddled in abandoned buildings, tucked away in forgotten corners where the city’s lights didn’t reach.

But it wasn’t just hunger or cold that haunted his childhood—it was the sense of being unseen. No one had cared about the orphan living in the gutter, scrounging for scraps. He had been a ghost long before he had ever stepped into a dungeon, and that ghostliness had become a part of him. People looked through him, not at him, and for a long time, Kael had believed that was the way it would always be.

Until one day, it wasn’t.

He had been no more than ten years old when the first real fight of his life happened. He had been digging through a pile of trash in one of the market alleys, trying to find something—anything—that could serve as food or be sold for a few scraps of coin. That’s when a gang of older kids had spotted him, boys a few years older but twice his size. They had cornered him, laughing, taunting, knowing there was no one to stop them.

At first, Kael had tried to run, but the alley was narrow, blocked on both ends. The first blow had come fast, knocking him to the ground, the cold stone biting into his skin. He remembered the coppery taste of blood on his lips, the ringing in his ears as the laughter echoed around him.

“Just a gutter rat,” one of them had sneered, kicking him in the side. “You don’t belong here.”

They had beaten him senseless, leaving him bruised and bleeding in the alley, their laughter still ringing in his ears as they walked away, satisfied with their work. Kael had crawled away after that, pulling himself into the shadows of a broken-down building where no one would find him. He hadn’t cried—there hadn’t been any point. No one was going to help him. He’d known that even then.

But something had shifted in him that day. The world had shown him its cruelty, and instead of breaking, something in Kael had hardened. He had learned the lesson well: survival didn’t depend on kindness or fairness. It depended on being smart, fast, and ruthless.

From that day forward, Kael had stopped being the boy who waited for help that would never come. He had taken control of his own fate.

Kael shook himself from the memory, pushing it aside as he approached a familiar corner of the alley. He hadn’t been back here in years, but the place was still the same—a broken-down old building, its windows shattered and covered with grime. The faint flicker of a fire glowed through the cracks in the boarded-up entrance, casting long shadows across the cracked concrete.

This place had been home once. It wasn’t much, but it had kept the rain off him, and the fire—when he had managed to find enough scrap wood to keep it burning—had been a small comfort.

He moved closer, hesitating for a moment before stepping inside. The fire was small, crackling faintly in the corner of the room. The walls were still covered in graffiti, layers of it overlapping, each telling a different story. The scent of smoke hung in the air, mingling with the stale scent of damp wood and dust.

A figure sat by the fire, hunched over, their face hidden beneath the hood of a tattered jacket. Kael recognized the figure before they even spoke.

“You came back,” the voice was rough but familiar.

Kael sighed, stepping closer to the fire. “Couldn’t stay away forever, Eryn.”

Eryn raised her head, the faint light of the fire casting shadows across her face. She looked older than he remembered, more worn down by the years spent surviving in the gutters of Draelith. Her eyes, though, were sharp—watchful. They always had been.

Eryn had been one of the few people Kael had ever trusted. She had been an orphan like him, a year older but just as lost. They had met by chance, years ago, when Kael had stumbled into her hiding spot during a rainstorm. She had offered him half of the bread she had stolen that day, and in return, he had shared what little he had—a rare act of kindness in a world that had no place for it. Over time, they had formed a bond, watching each other’s backs when the streets got too dangerous.

“I heard you went into the dungeon,” Eryn said, her eyes flicking over him, taking in the new shadows clinging to his frame. “Surprised you made it out.”

Kael shrugged, though he knew there was more to it than that. “I made it out.”

Eryn narrowed her eyes. “And?”

Kael hesitated. He hadn’t planned on telling anyone about the Dreitailen. The fewer people who knew about it, the better. But Eryn wasn’t just anyone. She had been through the same ritual the year before, soulbinding to a creature of her own, a Tier 9 shadow beast that could cloak itself in darkness but wasn’t much use in a fight.

He sat down by the fire, feeling the warmth against his skin. “It didn’t go the way I thought it would.”

Eryn raised an eyebrow. “Does it ever?”

Kael chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. “No. This was… different.”

For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire. Kael stared into the flames, the memories of the dungeon flashing through his mind—the battles, the blood, the way the Dreitailen had struck from the shadows with such lethal precision. And the growing sense of dread that had followed him since.

“I got something rare,” Kael said finally, his voice low. “Something I wasn’t expecting.”

Eryn’s eyes widened slightly. “Rare? How rare?”

“Unique Rarity,” Kael muttered, barely audible.

Eryn blinked, leaning closer as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”

“Unique Rarity,” Kael repeated, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. “A shadow creature. It’s called the Dreitailen.”

For a moment, Eryn just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then she let out a low whistle, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Kael… do you know what that means?”

Kael nodded. “I do. That’s why I didn’t register it properly. If the Council finds out, they’ll come after me. They’ll want control.”

Eryn sat back, running a hand through her tangled hair. “You’re in deep, Kael. Unique Rarity… they don’t let people like us keep creatures like that. You’ll be a target.”

“I know,” Kael said quietly. “But I didn’t have a choice. The system glitched. I didn’t get the usual three options—just the Dreitailen. And now…”

Eryn frowned, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. “And now you’ve got this thing stuck to you, don’t you?”

Kael nodded. “Yeah. And it’s not just that. There’s something else—Shadow Corruption. I can feel it, Eryn. It’s like the creature is changing me, slowly.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Eryn sighed, shaking her head as she leaned back, staring into the fire. “Shadow Corruption? That’s not something I’ve ever heard of. Not in any of the soulbinding cases I’ve seen or heard about. You’re not just dealing with a Unique Rarity creature, Kael. You’re dealing with something no one understands. That makes you dangerous—not just to the Council, but to yourself.”

Kael clenched his fists, feeling the faint flicker of the Dreitailen’s presence stirring in his shadow. She was right. The corruption was creeping through him, slow but insidious, and the more he used the Dreitailen’s powers, the more he felt its influence seeping into his mind.

“I don’t have a choice,” Kael muttered, voice tight. “I can’t just stop using it. I need it to survive.”

Eryn looked at him with a mixture of concern and frustration. “I get that, Kael, but this isn’t like wielding some weapon or casting a spell. This thing is inside you. It’s going to change you whether you want it to or not.”

Kael stood abruptly, pacing back and forth, his mind racing. He knew she was right, but it didn’t change the reality he was facing. The Dreitailen was both his greatest weapon and his greatest curse, and he had no idea how to control it, much less stop the corruption. But what choice did he have? The streets of Draelith were unforgiving. If the Dreitailen gave him the edge he needed to survive, wasn’t it worth the risk?

“I’ll figure it out,” Kael said, more to himself than to Eryn. “I’ll find a way to control it.”

Eryn shook her head. “It’s not that simple, Kael. The Council—”

“I don’t care about the Council!” Kael snapped, his voice rising. “I’ve been living in the shadows my whole life. They never cared about me before, and I’m not going to let them control me now.”

Eryn flinched slightly at his outburst, but her expression softened. “I know. I know you don’t want to be controlled. None of us do. But you can’t fight the Council on your own. If they find out about the Dreitailen, you won’t have a choice.”

Kael stopped pacing, running a hand through his hair, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. She was right again. The Council had control over everything in Draelith. They dictated the laws, the dungeons, the soulbinding process, everything. If they found out about his creature, he’d be swept up into their system, just another tool for them to use.

But Kael wasn’t going to let that happen. He had survived this long by staying one step ahead, by slipping through the cracks of the city’s rigid structure. And now, with the Dreitailen’s power at his disposal, he had a real chance to keep his freedom—if he could keep the Council off his trail.

“You’re right,” Kael said after a moment, his voice calmer. “But I’m not going to let them find out. I’ll keep the Dreitailen hidden, just like I did today. I’ll figure out a way to register it without them knowing what it really is.”

Eryn looked skeptical. “And how are you going to pull that off?”

“I don’t know yet,” Kael admitted. “But I’ll figure it out. I have to.”

Eryn sighed, rubbing her temples as if this whole conversation was giving her a headache. “You’re walking a dangerous line, Kael. Just… be careful. The Council isn’t the only danger out there. You’ve got something powerful inside you, and if you can’t control it…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but the implication was clear. If he couldn’t control the Dreitailen, the creature’s power could overwhelm him, and he’d be lost—consumed by the very shadows he had come to rely on.

Kael nodded, the weight of her words settling on his shoulders. “I’ll be careful.”

Eryn studied him for a long moment, then finally nodded. “Alright. Just… don’t do anything stupid. If you need help, you know where to find me.”

Kael managed a faint smile. “Thanks.”

With that, Eryn stood, pulling her jacket tighter around her as she moved toward the door. “I’ll be around. If you hear anything about the Council sniffing around, let me know. We’ve all got to watch out for each other, right?”

“Right.”

As she left, Kael stood by the fire for a few moments, watching the flames dance and flicker. The past had a way of creeping up on him when he least expected it. Eryn was a reminder of the life he had left behind, a life spent scrambling for survival in the forgotten corners of the city. But now… now he had something else, something that could give him power. Freedom. Control.

But at what cost?

Kael stepped away from the fire, moving toward the back of the building where a narrow window let in a sliver of light from the neon signs outside. He leaned against the wall, staring out at the cityscape, his mind still spinning with thoughts of the Dreitailen and the creeping corruption that came with it.

The memories of his childhood resurfaced, the ones he tried so hard to bury. After that first beating in the alley, Kael had become ruthless. He’d had to. He started fighting back. The next time someone tried to steal from him or beat him down, he hadn’t run. He had fought.

He hadn’t won—at least, not at first. But every fight taught him something. He learned where to strike, how to avoid a blow, how to use his surroundings to his advantage. And eventually, he became the one who walked away, leaving the others in the dirt.

That’s how he had survived, how he had earned respect—or, more accurately, fear. People in the gutters of Draelith didn’t offer respect willingly. But fear was easier to cultivate. He had learned to make people fear him, and that had been enough to keep him alive.

But now, with the Dreitailen inside him, that old survival instinct felt like a double-edged sword. He had a power far beyond anything he had ever imagined, but the cost was something he hadn’t anticipated.

Kael clenched his fists, staring out at the city, the lights blurring in his vision as his thoughts raced. What kind of person was he becoming? The Dreitailen had been chosen for him, a reflection of his soul, and the shadows it commanded were now intertwined with his very being.

But what did that say about him?

The Dreitailen was a creature of darkness, a thing born from the shadow realm. Its presence was cold, calculated, lethal. It struck from the darkness, silent and deadly, never giving its prey a chance to react. It was everything Kael had trained himself to be over the years, and now that power had manifested in a way he couldn’t ignore.

Was this truly who he was?

The thought gnawed at him, a quiet dread creeping into his mind. The creature wasn’t just a tool—it was an extension of him. Every time he used its power, the Shadow Corruption grew, and with it, the darkness inside him seemed to take root a little deeper.

But what could he do? Without the Dreitailen, he wouldn’t stand a chance. The streets were dangerous enough, but with the Council on his trail, he needed every advantage he could get.

He pushed off the wall, taking a deep breath. There was no point in overthinking it. He had made his choice. Now, he had to live with it.

Kael left the building, slipping back into the streets of Draelith. The air was cold against his skin, the wind cutting through the narrow alleys with a sharpness that felt almost alive. The city buzzed around him, full of life and movement, but Kael felt disconnected from it all, like he was walking through a world that wasn’t quite his anymore.

He kept to the shadows as he moved, instinctively staying out of sight. The Dreitailen’s influence made it easy—he could feel the shadows wrapping around him, bending to his will as if they were an extension of his body. He was starting to understand how to use them, how to move through the darkness without being seen.

His hand brushed against the Shadowfang Dagger again, the cool metal a constant reminder of the power he had gained. But with that power came the constant tension, the fear that one wrong move would bring everything crashing down around him.

As he made his way through the maze of alleyways, Kael couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and his eyes darted to the shadows around him, scanning for movement.

Nothing.

He continued walking, his pace quickening slightly, the sense of unease growing with each step. The streets were quieter here, the sounds of the city distant and muffled. Something felt wrong.

He turned a corner, stepping into a narrow alley that led back toward the main square, but before he could take another step, a figure emerged from the shadows, blocking his path.

Kael’s heart skipped a beat, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at his side.

The figure was tall, dressed in a dark cloak that blended seamlessly with the shadows around them. Their face was obscured by a hood, but the faint glint of metal caught Kael’s eye—a badge, pinned to the figure’s chest.