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Chapter 01: The day it all began. Part 1

“It’s much livelier here today,” said the tall man, walking leisurely down the cobbled road. He had been in Ravenburg for only a few days, passing through, and during all that time, the weather and atmosphere had remained unchanged. Dampness, gloom, greyness, and mist reigned everywhere.

To be fair, such weather conditions were not unique to this city. Ever since Salvador had crossed the Aldagger Sea, the weather had quickly begun to shift to its current state. Apparently, this was one of the continent’s defining traits.

Another distinctive feature was the architecture. The dark, damp buildings showcased the full grandeur of the Gothic style. The sharp spires of the high rooftops soared into the sky, and the intricate ornamentation on the structures themselves gave the impression that someone had embroidered these buildings from stone. It’s also worth noting that the most remarkable elements here were the stained-glass windows. They impressed with their dark elegance and the deep, truly unique stories depicted in the glass is. However, they only reached the height of their magnificence at those rare moments when a lone sunbeam, having accidentally wandered onto this continent, struck one of them. In such moments, the glass, as if having absorbed a bit of life, cast multicolored reflections all around. It was in those fleeting moments that cities like Ravenburg revealed their full beauty.

The third feature of this continent, Salvador believed, was its inhabitants. Most of them were pale and depressive—at least the humans were. As for the other races, they were either more aggressive or excessively bold. In short, this continent was teeming with all kinds of creatures—from well-known ones like vampires, demons, and werewolves, to lesser-known beings like Furies, Elviriums, and Incubi. Salvador still didn’t know all the races, but he was genuinely trying to understand them.

“What did you expect on the day of the tournament?” came a reply to the man’s neutral remark from seemingly nowhere.

In truth, that wasn’t quite accurate. Though to an outside observer Salvador might have appeared to be walking alone down the street, this was far from the case. The one he was speaking to was his own shadow. An unusual shadow. A creature wielding the power of shadows, it bore the name Shadomorph. If such a being could exist independently, it would certainly be classified among the dark races. But that was impossible. That’s why Shadomorphs were considered parasites, living off their hosts. Once they merged with someone, they were doomed to remain the shadow of a randomly chosen individual for the rest of their lives.

“I’ve never understood why tournaments are always packed with people, or why spectators are so amused by watching someone get beaten or killed for entertainment. And look now—everyone’s rushing there so they don’t miss the coming spectacle,” Salvador remarked, his tone more disappointed than bored.

“And yet you’re going too,” Shadomorph noted slyly.

“I’m not going there for entertainment, and you know that perfectly well,” the man replied indifferently.

“Of course. You're going to see the old man who once ruled this city and is now doomed to fight to the death with no chance of ever leaving this place, right? So, you’ll watch him—then what? You think you’ll manage to free him? Do you really believe he’s the one you’re looking for?”

“Believe it or not, don’t you find his story interesting? I need a teacher, and according to the information we’ve gathered, he might be the right fit.”

“Ah… I have a feeling trouble is coming. We crossed this continent for him, but we still know far too little.”