Years earlier, Andraka Liu and six-year-old Althara stepped out of Caldara and made their way toward the small boat docked by the shore. The air was heavy with silence, save for the faint cries of a baby echoing from the boat. Andraka climbed aboard and carefully lifted the infant into his arms, rocking her gently until the crying softened into contented coos.

  “Daddy’s sorry you had to see me like that,” Andraka murmured, his voice thick with pain and anger. “Merlin Shadowbane stole everything from us—our kingdom, our home. Letting his son go unscathed would’ve been a sin.”

  Althara looked up at her father, her small frame trembling as she processed his words. “O-okay, Daddy,” she whispered, stepping closer to wrap her arms around him. Andraka held her tightly, the weight of their shared grief pressing down on them.

  In his arms, baby Anita let out a soft coo, oblivious to the storm of emotions swirling around her.

  Present

  "Because of you, the chef and Toby ended up in jail," Devin snarled, his eyes flicking to Althara’s bloodied temple. "You’re so obsessed with catching up to Charles, Carter, and Ethan that you’ve lost all sense of reason."

  Althara groaned as her eyes turned a ghostly white, the pain fueling her rage. Devin smirked and pulled out a knife, gripping it tightly. "Thank you, Melanthius," he sneered. "You’ve given us the perfect chance for this." He leaned toward Althara, the blade gleaming ominously in the light. "If I cut that medallion out of you, it’ll be the end of Althara Shadowbane."

  Before the knife could reach its mark, Mel grabbed Devin’s wrist with a firm grip. "Stop. That’s too far," Mel said, his voice eerily calm.

  Devin narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "What? This has nothing to do with you." He tried to wrench his wrist free, but Mel’s grip only tightened.

  Suddenly, Althara’s hand shot out, grabbing Devin’s ankle. With a sickening crack, she twisted and snapped it, sending him crumpling to the ground in agony. Gasps erupted from the Shadowbane members as Althara slowly rose, blood streaking her face, but her presence radiating undeniable power.

  She walked forward, her steps measured and deliberate. "There are no more Shadowbanes," she declared coldly, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "After I destroy every last one of you, including Melanthius, there will only be me—the true Shadowbane."

  Without hesitation, Althara dashed toward the remaining members of the Shadowbane faction, dismantling the ranks she herself had built, her vengeance swift and merciless.

  Althara’s movements were swift and fluid, a masterful display of cloud magic. Wisps of ethereal mist coiled around her limbs, shifting seamlessly between vapor and tangible force. As she advanced toward the Shadowbane ranks, the clouds spiraled into dense tendrils, snapping outward like whips to disarm her enemies.

  The first wave charged her, but Althara leaped into the air, twisting mid-flight as the mist beneath her feet solidified into platforms, giving her impossible agility. She descended with a spinning kick, a surge of compressed cloud energy exploding outward upon impact. Several Shadowbanes were thrown back, crashing into the ground with brutal force.

  A cluster of opponents surrounded her, attempting to coordinate their attacks. Althara extended her hand, and a dense fog engulfed the area. The mist clouded their vision and muffled their senses, leaving them disoriented. Out of the haze, she struck with precision, every blow augmented by bursts of cloud pressure. Each hit left deep, bruising impacts as her magic delivered crushing force.

  One Shadowbane tried to flank her, but Althara conjured a wall of swirling vapor, deflecting the attack. The cloud wall then collapsed into a concentrated beam, driving the opponent into the dirt with unrelenting pressure.

  Another group attempted a coordinated rush, but Althara’s clouds reacted instinctively, forming tendrils that snared their limbs. She yanked them off their feet and hurled them into one another, the sheer force of her magic leaving them sprawled and incapacitated.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  As more foes advanced, Althara planted her foot firmly, and a shockwave of cloud energy rippled outward. The ground cracked beneath her as the blast knocked her enemies off balance, sending them sprawling. She spun gracefully, weaving between the fallen fighters, each movement deliberate as she incapacitated them with precision strikes.

  Her control over the battlefield was absolute. The clouds shifted and twisted at her command, forming barriers, projectiles, and weapons as needed. The Shadowbanes, once confident in their numbers, fell one by one, overwhelmed by the ferocity of her attacks and the seemingly limitless versatility of her cloud magic.

  Anita’s tear-streaked eyes locked onto Mel. “What are you going to do, Mel? My sister looks so... lonely,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she watched Althara savagely tear through the Shadowbanes.

  Mel exhaled shakily, pulling Anita into a comforting hug as he gently rubbed her shoulders. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low and conflicted. “She’s stronger than me right now... and more experienced. I was dead for too long to catch up.” He winced, absently rubbing his bruised cheek.

  In the distance, Althara stood over Devin’s crumpled body, bloodied and victorious. Her cold gaze turned to Mel as she stepped forward, her voice a venomous whisper. “You’re next.”

  Suddenly, the crunching of boots in the snow broke the tension. A new presence emerged.

  “Actually, Aldara, you’re next,” a cold, commanding voice announced.

  Althara froze mid-step, her expression twisting into one of pure shock, fear, and barely suppressed rage. Her voice cracked as she stammered, “W-w-wait! I didn’t do anything!” The fierce demeanor she’d worn moments ago shattered, replaced by desperate panic.

  She turned to flee, but a towering titanium fortress materialized behind her, its massive walls cutting off her escape. “I just needed to—!”

  “Needed to what? Ruin my operations so you could have your little playtime with your friends again?” the man sneered, his voice sharp and unyielding.

  Althara bit her lip, trembling. “No! Please, Titian!” she begged, tears of desperation brimming in her eyes.

  Mel’s brows furrowed in confusion, his gaze darting between them. “Titian?” he murmured. Slowly, he released Anita and stepped forward. His sharp eyes focused on the imposing figure. “You’re Titian?” He glanced down at his wand, realization dawning. “And you’re a wizard. Let me guess—your buddy Howard is one too, isn’t he?”

  Titian smirked at Mel with casual disdain. “Melanthius Shadowbane. You’ve returned from the dead,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Answer me!” Mel demanded, his tone heated.

  Titian sighed, exasperated. “Yeah, so what?” he replied dismissively.

  Mel’s fists clenched, his voice trembling with barely contained fury. “You’re part of the Magisterium. You’re the reason I was thrown into Caldara Bastille as a baby! If it wasn’t for you, Goldman wouldn’t have killed me!”

  Titian gave Mel a disinterested shove, sending him stumbling aside. “Wait your turn,” he muttered before turning his attention back to Althara.

  “You should’ve stayed in line,” Titian growled, his voice dripping with venom. “I let you live once. If you hadn’t fought back, you’d still be with Carter, Charles, and Ethan. But now? I’m ending this.”

  He raised his fist, crackling with energy, ready to deliver the fatal blow. Althara closed her eyes, bracing for the strike. Her breathing slowed, and her voice was calm yet resigned. “I’m fine with this... I can die now.”

  A metallic clang echoed through the air. Althara’s eyes snapped open, widening in shock. Mel stood before her, a gleaming katana in his hands. Its blade was wickedly curved, lined with jagged spikes. He had blocked Titian’s strike.

  Gasps rippled through the crowd as Mel’s firm voice cut through the tension. “This is Ragespike, Katana of Wizardry. I found it.”

  He glanced at Shieka with a sly smile. “And yeah, I asked this time.”

  Shieka rolled her eyes, exasperated. “About time,” she muttered from the sidelines.

  Titian’s eyebrows furrowed, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. “Ragespike?” he sneered. “That’s the hardest weapon to wield. Even its creator couldn’t handle it.”

  Titian hurled another punch, his movements laced with energy. Mel met the strike head-on, expertly deflecting it with Ragespike’s blade. The sound of metal grinding against force reverberated in the cold air.

  Titian’s expression darkened as he launched a sphere of raw energy toward Althara. Without hesitation, Mel swung the katana in a downward arc, slicing the energy apart mid-air. Sparks scattered like fireflies, lighting up the battlefield.

  “It’s not a cakewalk,” Mel admitted, wincing under the weight of the katana’s immense power. His stance remained unwavering.