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Four figures stood at the heart of the catacombs, ringed by a pool of living shadows that writhed like a starless void. Flickering torchlight danced across their faces, faces marked by the same silver sigils that bound them together, the first Shadowborn of Myrth.

Kyron rested a hand on the polished statue next to him, his stocky form demanding space in the small room. His voice was low, almost reluctant. "We were born of necessity, bound to shadows to protect our world. But it needs to end with us."

Celeste laughed in response, her straight black hair falling off her shoulder as she whipped her head to face him.

"End? You speak as though evil will just vanish.

Like they won't start a war again?" She stepped closer, towering over him with her height.

"Our power needs to spread, or the world will be covered in darkness, and it won't be ours.

. Or do you mean to leave our people without the power to defend themselves? "

Idris, who had kept his distance, stepped forward then, his Healer's robes whispering against the floor. "It is not a curse, but if used wisely, a gift. I agree with Celeste. We need to find a way to preserve our shadows."

Muriel closed her eyes, feeling the shadow pulse at the edge of her vision. "People have already tried to recreate what we can do. We're the only ones who can fight back."

Kyron's shoulders stiffened. "I have seen children taken, families torn apart for mere gold, wars that arose over claiming land. If anyone knew we could pass on our power..."

Celeste's eyes glowed with inner fire. "There will always be innocents and tyrants. We can't control that, but we can control how our descendants will live and their chances at life. We have a chance to fortify our kind. If we don't do this, the Shadowborn will end with us."

Idris thoughtfully dipped his chin, shadows flickering across his stoic face. "What if we find a way only to create when we have to; when we deem it necessary to expand Shadowborn?"

Muriel opened her eyes, tears glinting in the torchlight. "And what of the ones who fail? The ones the shadows reject and attack from the inside? That's a risk we have to consider."

A hush fell, and the four leaders looked at each other, assessing their options.

Kyron broke the silence. "Then we use something to hold the power of choice, a vessel that can stay hidden until we choose to use it." His gaze drifted to a slender blade draped across the altar. A dagger forged from dark steel, its blade carved with the sigil of Myrth.

Kyron picked it up, eyeing the dull jewel set in the hilt. Turning it, he showcased the blade to everyone in the room .

Celeste reached out, fingertips brushing its surface. "Perhaps we use this to hold our power? Then, when it is time, we use it to find worthy people to preserve the Shadowborn?"

Kyron nodded. "We pour our essence into the steel."

Muriel took a step closer, her voice soft. "If we choose this, to bind our shadows here, we free ourselves of them and offer hope to the next generation..." She closed her eyes and whispered a word in the old tongue.

One by one, four trembling hands were placed upon the pommel. A purple diamond illuminated along the back of their hands as they touched. With a collective intake of breath, they released their power.

A wave of darkness erupted, spiraling from their bodies into the blade, coiling around its steel core.

The dagger sang with a deep, resonant hum.

Shadows danced around them and then flooded through their bodies and into the item in their hands.

The darkness swirled there, weaving an illuminated pattern along the hilt and blade.

The more the dagger pulled from them, the more the four leaders groaned in pain.

Each one draining themselves of every ounce of magic.

"Choose wisely," they said in unison as the last tendrils of shadow formed into the blade. Pulling away one by one, Kyron held the dagger up, the dull gem now illuminated with a bright purple hue. The torchlight steadied, and the dagger pulsed like it had a heartbeat.