The keeper's shadows

Episode 3

The night in Elmridge grew restless. Wind clawed at rooftops, shutters banged against windows, and somewhere in the distance, a church bell tolled though no one had touched it. Aric sat awake by his desk, the Secret Key glowing faintly in his palm.

He thought of Corvan’s words. The Keeper of Night. A fallen Guardian.

The name lingered like a curse. If a Guardian could fall once, what stopped him from falling too?

Aric clenched the key tighter. He had sworn to protect it, yet the shadows already hunted him. How long before they overwhelmed him?

The Dream of Ashes

Sleep finally claimed him, but it brought no peace.

Aric stood in the ruins of Elmridge. The town square was scorched black, the bakery nothing but ash, and the chapel crumbled into dust. At the center of it all, a figure cloaked in darkness towered over him.

Its voice was cold and familiar.

“You refused once, child. But storms come again. When the world burns, will you still cling to light?”

The figure raised a hand. From its palm dripped black fire, spreading across the ruined ground like living tar. Aric stumbled back, clutching the key.

“What do you want from me?” he shouted.

The shadow’s hood tilted, and for the first time Aric saw its face—half human, half swallowed by darkness. Eyes like burning coals stared into him.

“I want what was stolen. Give me the key, and your suffering ends.”

The fire lunged for him. Aric lifted the key high. Light flared—

And he woke, drenched in sweat, his lantern flickering madly beside him.

Corvan’s Lesson

The next morning, Corvan appeared again. This time he carried a staff etched with the same golden symbols Aric had seen underground.

“You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” Corvan asked.

Aric nodded, voice hoarse. “The Keeper of Night.”

Corvan’s jaw tightened. “He haunts the dreams of every Guardian. That is how he weakens you. If he breaks your will, the key will open for him.”

Aric’s heart sank. “Then how do I fight him?”

Corvan planted his staff firmly in the ground. “With discipline. The key isn’t just a weapon. It’s a mirror. It feeds on what’s inside you—fear, hope, anger, love. If you let darkness root itself in your heart, it will grow. And then the Keeper will claim you.”

Aric stared at the silver key glowing in his palm. A mirror. That explained the temptation in the chamber, the whispers at his weakest moments.

“I don’t want to fail,” Aric whispered.

Corvan’s eyes softened for the first time. “Then don’t walk alone. A Guardian may hold the key, but the light belongs to all. Remember that.”

Attack at Dusk

That evening, Elmridge fell under a strange silence. Birds vanished from the sky. Even the air felt heavy, pressing against the skin like unseen hands.

Aric and Corvan walked through the chapel ruins when the ground shook. Cracks split across the stones. From them seeped black mist, curling into shapes.

Harrowers.

But this time, there were many.

Six wolf-shadows emerged, their crimson eyes glowing in unison. They circled, snarling, their forms twisting like smoke.

Corvan raised his staff, golden runes blazing to life. “Stay behind me!”

But Aric stepped forward, key burning in his hand. The memory of last night’s dream still boiled in his chest. He couldn’t just hide.

One wolf lunged. Aric thrust the key forward. Light erupted, striking the shadow mid-air and ripping it apart.

Another leapt from behind. Aric swung the lantern, its flame surging unnaturally bright, forcing the beast back.

Corvan fought beside him, staff whirling, light slashing through shadow. But the Harrowers kept reforming, their bodies knitting back together.

“They won’t stop!” Aric shouted.

“Because they are not the enemy,” Corvan growled. His staff cracked against the ground. “They are messengers.”

The mist thickened, swallowing the ruins in blackness. The wolves froze, then bowed their heads as a new figure stepped from the smoke.

A cloaked silhouette. Taller, darker, heavier than all the rest.

The Keeper of Night.

The Keeper Appears

Aric’s breath caught. It was the same figure from his dream, but stronger, more real. Shadows curled like armor around him, his half-hidden face smoldering with crimson fire.

“Guardian…” The Keeper’s voice echoed through the mist. “You refuse me, yet you summon me with every thought. The key is wasted on a child.”

Aric’s hand shook as he raised the key. “You won’t take it.”

The Keeper chuckled, a sound like grinding stone. “You believe courage makes you strong? I was once like you—swearing to protect, clinging to light. But light falters. Light dies. And when it does, the key will beg to be mine again.”

Aric’s heart pounded. For the first time, he felt the pull—the temptation—to hand it over, to end the fight. His grip loosened.

The Keeper’s hand extended. “Give it to me, and I will return what you have lost. Your parents. Your peace. Everything.”

Aric froze. His throat tightened. Could it be true? Could the key bring them back?

Trust the Light

“Don’t listen!” Corvan’s voice thundered, cutting through the mist. His staff glowed like fire. “He twists truth into chains!”

Aric’s mind spun. The temptation gnawed at him—his parents’ faces flashing in his memory, their laughter, their warmth. Tears stung his eyes.

Then, faintly, he remembered another voice. His grandfather’s note. Trust the light.

He raised the lantern. Its flame flickered weakly, but he whispered, “I trust you.”

The flame roared to life, golden fire bursting from the lantern and flooding the ruins. The Harrowers shrieked, dissolving into smoke. The Keeper recoiled, his shadow-armored form cracking with light.

For a moment, Aric saw the man beneath the darkness. His face scarred, his eyes human—haunted.

“You will break,” the Keeper snarled, retreating into mist. “Storm by storm, choice by choice. When the light fails, I will be waiting.”

And with that, he was gone. The ruins fell silent.

Aftermath

Aric collapsed to his knees, the key cooling in his palm. His chest heaved, his mind spinning.

Corvan placed a hand on his shoulder. “You did well. But this is only the beginning.”

Aric looked at him, fear and determination clashing in his eyes. “He offered me everything I wanted. And for a moment… I wanted to give it.”

Corvan nodded grimly. “That is the Keeper’s power. Not to fight with strength, but with desire. Remember, Aric—the key does not test the world. It tests you.”

Aric stared at the glowing silver, its light steady in the dark. He had survived tonight, but the Keeper was right about one thing.

Storm by storm. Choice by choice.

And one wrong step could end everything.

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