Chapter 1

He woke abruptly, sitting bolt upright with a scream dying on his lips. All the breath rushed from his lungs and he sucked in fresh air, his breathing rapid and shallow. His eyes were wide and wild, unseeing as he relived the last moments of the nightmare. They closed as he tried to escape it, emerge into reality. His skin was clammy and pale, his tousled hair stood up in spikes. His head dropped forward onto his knees as he continued to gasp for breath. The figure in bed next to him stirred.

"Shad? Are you ok?" Mi'Haera asked sleepily, her green eyes full of concern. She reached a pale hand out and touched his shoulder to find that he was shaking.

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep." He patted her hand before pushing back the covers with a trembling hand and slipping out of bed. His clothes appeared on him and he pushed back his long black hair into a messy ponytail. Glancing only briefly at the clock, he made his way out the door. 6.18 am.

Well, he mused as he strode through his castle, it was the most sleep he'd gotten in a long time. He was bone tired, both physically and mentally exhausted. His strength had all drained away. His magical powers were rapidly fading, weakening. Even his energy stones were dull.

He needed to talk to Re'em.

"I'm leaving," he called out as he reached the bottom of the stairs, to whatever staff were about. He already knew his failing magic wouldn't carry him to the Death Realm, so he headed for the Shadow Ministry, slipping into the shadows.

Even at this early an hour the city was bustling, alive. Slightly bitterly, Shad decided that even the city was more alive than he was. He sighed, striding through the crowds. Feeling his energy flagging, he patted his cloak in search of a tonic. He had almost given up hope when he found a small flask in an inside pocket. With another sigh, this time of relief, he drank the potion in one long pull. The taste was bitter, not unpleasantly so, and overwhelmingly herbal. Almost instantly, he felt his energy level rise, and quickened his pace. He filed a reminder to thank Em for brewing it for him, and another to ask her for the recipe.

She was both the Chief Warrior and Sorceress of the Death Realm, and one of his closest friends. Long ago, when they had first met, he had hoped for something more than friendship, but it had never happened. It still depressed him, when he chose to think about it.

As he walked, he shoved his hands into his pockets, and lowered his head to stare at the ground. He blocked his mind so that the thoughts and feelings of the unguarded people that milled around him would not enter and jumble. He hated when that happened, it was so overwhelming and aggravating. He hummed to himself under his breath, to block out some of the noise, as he had a slight headache. But as he walked, he suddenly felt as if he were being watched. What began as a slight prickling of unease quickly turned into dread as he stopped and looked up, looked around. He glanced around to see if he could pinpoint the source of his woe, and spotted it almost immediately.

There were three men dressed in black robes directly across the street, staring in his direction. In itself, that was nothing unusual, for most men dressed in black robes, such as he himself did, but there was something disturbing about the men. They had a malevolent air about them, and their faces were hardened, almost brutal. Pushing aside the nearly overwhelming urge to run, he focused on them. And almost retched. They had the stench of a cult around them, but not just of any cult. Nyght's cult. He stumbled backwards from them, but managed to keep his ground. They turned as one and disappeared into an alley as they realised he saw them. For a full minute, he couldn't breathe properly, but finally drew in a deep breath.

He bent his head once more, and continued on his way. Thankfully, the Ministry was only around the corner from him, and he made it there without any more encounters.