Knox moved swiftly, weaving more illusions as he went. The air buzzed with the energy of his magic, shimmering with dark tendrils that danced and twisted around the enraged mob.
Confusion spread like wildfire. The crowd turned on itself, people swinging at phantoms and shouting at specters that weren’t there. Fists met nothing but empty space; feet stumbled over non-existent obstacles.
He saw a young boy crying out for his mother, his tiny hands clutching at her skirt as she swatted frantically at an imaginary foe.
Knox’s heart pounded as he maintained the illusion, each moment draining more of his limited reserves. His vision blurred at the edges; exhaustion gnawing at him.
And when the Shadow King approached him, Knox had no magic to fling at his enemy.
Caelen was still wearing that damn infuriating smile, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice a velvet caress that Knox despised. "So desperate to protect these humans."
Knox gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand tall despite the weariness pulling at his limbs. "I won’t let you harm them."
"Harm them?" Caelen chuckled softly. "Why would I harm my new subjects? They adore me."
A flicker of rage sparked in Knox’s chest. He lunged at Caelen, his fists swinging with raw determination. But Caelen was faster, sidestepping the blow with an almost lazy grace.
"You’re out of your depth here," Caelen taunted. "This world is mine now."
Knox’s breath came in ragged gasps, his vision swimming from the effort of maintaining the illusions. "I won’t let you manipulate them," he managed to grit out.
Caelen chuckled softly, a sound that resonated with dark amusement. "Oh, but you already have. Look at them—thrashing about like frightened animals. You’ve done my work for me."
Knox’s heart sank as he glanced around. The crowd was in chaos, their fear and confusion palpable. His illusions had protected him, but they’d also played right into Caelen’s hands.
"Enough games," Knox growled, summoning the last of his strength. "This ends now."
He tried to swing at Caelen again. But his body betrayed him; fatigue and pain slowed his movements. Caelen caught Knox by the wrist and twisted it behind his back.
"You’re weak," Caelen hissed in his ear. "Pathetic."
Knox struggled against the iron grip, pain flaring through his arm. He could feel Caelen’s power seeping into him, a cold, invasive presence that sapped what little energy he had left.
Caelen was right; Knox was weak in this world.
"You can’t win," Caelen continued. "Not here. Not without your precious magic."
Knox gritted his teeth, refusing to give in to despair. He couldn’t let Caelen win—not ever.
But he didn’t know how he could stop himself from losing either.
Caelen’s shadows tightened around Knox, their cold tendrils trying to leech his energy. Each breath felt like a battle, each heartbeat a war drum in his ears.
And then, a strange sensation pricked at the edge of his awareness.
A shift.
The energy of the crowd was changing, subtly at first but growing more pronounced with each passing moment. Confusion morphed into something gentler, almost soothing.
Amidst the cacophony of shouts and jeers, a melody began to thread its way through the air. Quickly, it grew stronger, more distinct, wrapping around Knox like a warm embrace.
Singing.
His heart leapt with a sudden burst of hope. Could it be?
The melody wove its way through the chaos, hauntingly beautiful notes cutting through fear and anger like a blade through flesh.
Knox’s mind raced as he recognized the voice—smooth as silk, with an undercurrent of strength that belied its gentle tone.