Elias returned to the tenement as dawn light struggled through Grimwald's fog. His mind was still reeling from what had happened beneath the city, but his expression remained carefully neutral—a skill he was learning to cultivate out of necessity.
Mira was awake, reading his note with obvious worry. She looked up as he entered, relief and irritation warring on her face.
"There you are! I was about to send Shade searching. What happened to 'don't worry'?"
"Couldn't sleep. Went for a walk to clear my head." Elias hung Tam's coat carefully, hiding the tremor in his hands from exhaustion and lingering disorientation. "Needed to think about everything that's happening. The meetings, the responsibilities, Solnera's inevitable return."
It wasn't entirely a lie—those concerns did exist, even if they hadn't been the reason for his excursion.
Wise, the presence observed in his mind. Trust must be earned, not freely given. Even those who seem loyal can become liabilities if they know too much.
Elias forced himself not to react to the voice, keeping his face neutral as Mira studied him with her mismatched eyes.
"You look terrible. Did you actually rest at all, or did you spend the whole night wandering?"
"Some of both." He moved to the table, deliberately casual. "Made it to the old Industrial Quarter. Quiet there at night—gives perspective."
"The Industrial Quarter?" Mira frowned. "That area's not safe after dark. There are reports of structural collapses, unstable buildings—"
"I had six shadows with me. I was fine." Elias poured water from the basin, washing his face to buy time to organize his thoughts. The presence was right—revealing what had happened would create more problems than solutions. Mira would worry, might insist on medical evaluation, might tell Lyra or Doctor Harvin. Information would spread, questions would multiply, and Elias would lose control of the situation.
Better to keep this secret until he understood what he was dealing with.
"You should rest properly," Mira said, her concern genuine but also tinged with frustration. "You have that City Council briefing this afternoon, and you look like you're about to collapse."
"I'll rest after breakfast." He pulled out the bread from yesterday—still edible, if a bit stale. "Any word from Lyra about today's schedule?"
Mira allowed the subject change, though her expression suggested she wasn't entirely satisfied. "She sent a message. The Council briefing is at three. Before that, Doctor Harvin wants to check your burn, and Magistrate Verne has 'urgent intelligence' she needs to discuss privately."
"Privately?"
"Her word. Just you and her, no council members present." Mira's eyes narrowed. "Whatever it is, it's sensitive enough that she doesn't want witnesses."
Interesting, the presence murmured. Your Magistrate may have discovered something she cannot share through official channels. Or she suspects information has been compromised and is testing you.
Elias ignored the voice, focusing on Mira. "Any idea what the intelligence concerns?"
"None. But knowing Verne, it's either very important or very dangerous. Probably both."
Internal Dialogue
After Mira left to retrieve more supplies, Elias sat alone with his shadows and focused inward, addressing the presence directly through thought rather than speech.
We need to establish ground rules, he projected.
Agreed, the presence responded, its patterns shifting in the spaces of his awareness. You wish to know my limitations and set boundaries.
Exactly. First question: can you read all my thoughts, or only what I consciously direct toward you?
Only what rises to your awareness in the spaces where I exist—surface thoughts, active contemplations, memories you're actively accessing. Your deeper subconscious remains private, as do reflexive thoughts that don't fully form. Think of me as hearing your internal monologue, not every neural firing.
That was better than complete transparency, but still concerning. Elias would need to be careful about what he allowed himself to consciously consider.
Can others detect your presence? Shadows, magical practitioners, the Codex?
Unknown. I exist in mental architecture, not physical or magical reality. Your shadows might sense something unusual in your thought patterns, but likely interpret it as stress or exhaustion. Skilled mind-workers could potentially detect me if they examined you closely, but such practitioners are rare.
Can you influence my actions? My decisions?
No. I can observe, suggest, provide information. But I cannot compel. Your will remains entirely your own. The presence shifted, almost hesitant. I'm not parasite or possessor. I'm trapped consciousness seeking companionship and purpose. Compromising your autonomy would only harm us both.
Why should I believe that?
Because lies require trust to be effective, and we have none yet. I gain nothing from deception—you're my only connection to reality. If you decide I'm threat, you could seek exorcism, magical binding, or simply accept complete isolation in your own mind. My survival depends on proving myself valuable and trustworthy.
The logic was sound, but Elias had learned that sound logic could mask dangerous intentions. He'd need to verify everything the presence claimed before trusting any of it.
You said you have knowledge from your epoch. Prove it. Tell me something verifiable.
The presence was silent for a moment, patterns shifting thoughtfully.
The foundations beneath Grimwald—the older structures you discovered—they follow principles of resonance architecture. Buildings designed to harmonize with natural energy flows in the earth. Your current city is built atop those foundations, but the builders didn't understand what they were building upon. That's why certain areas of Grimwald feel 'wrong'—the old resonance patterns conflict with new construction.
That's not verifiable. It's just theory.
Then verify it. Have your shadow Crimson analyze the structural patterns of the old foundations versus new construction. Look for harmonic relationships, mathematical progressions in the architecture. The old builders used specific ratios—what your age might call sacred geometry, though they understood it as engineering.
Elias filed that away for later testing. If Crimson could verify those patterns, it would suggest the presence's knowledge was genuine.
One more question: what should I call you? 'The presence' is awkward.
The patterns stilled, and for the first time, Elias felt something like emotion from the voice—sadness, or perhaps longing.
I had name once. In my epoch, I was called... the word doesn't translate directly to your language. The closest equivalent would be 'Keeper of Thresholds.' But that was title, not name. My personal name is lost, even to me. Too many centuries dissolved it.
Then I'll call you Threshold, if that's acceptable.
It serves. The presence—Threshold—rippled with what might have been approval. A functional designation for functional relationship.
Medical Examination
Doctor Harvin arrived mid-morning, his examination efficient and thorough. He checked Elias's burn, which was healing well, then moved to more subtle assessments—pupil dilation, pulse, coordination tests.
"Your physical recovery is good," Harvin concluded. "But you're showing signs of sleep deprivation and mental strain. Bad dreams?"
"Some," Elias lied smoothly. "Nothing unusual given recent events."
Careful, Threshold cautioned. This one is perceptive. Medical practitioners learn to detect dishonesty.
"Hmm." Harvin pulled out a small crystal on a chain, letting it hang freely. "Essence reading. Standard procedure after extended shadow-binding use."
The crystal rotated slowly, glowing faintly as it responded to Elias's essence field. Harvin watched carefully, frowning slightly.
"Interesting. There's an unusual pattern in your essence flow. Not corruption exactly, but... complexity. As though your consciousness is processing more information than usual." He pocketed the crystal. "Could be residual strain from the battle. Could be something else. Are you experiencing any mental symptoms? Intrusive thoughts, memory gaps, sensory distortions?"
Elias kept his expression neutral. "Nothing beyond normal stress."
He suspects something, Threshold observed. But cannot identify what. Your binding with six shadows provides plausible explanation for unusual essence patterns.
"Keep monitoring yourself," Harvin instructed. "If you experience anything unusual—voices, visions, gaps in time—contact me immediately. Shadow-binding can sometimes create psychological complications, especially under stress."
"I will. Thank you, Doctor."
After Harvin left, Elias allowed himself a quiet exhale. That had been closer than comfortable.
Your medical practitioner is skilled, Threshold observed. He detected my presence indirectly through your essence field, though he cannot identify what he's sensing. You'll need to be cautious around him.
Noted. Can you suppress your presence? Make yourself less detectable?
I exist in your mental architecture. I cannot simply cease existing. But I can remain... quieter. Less active. That might reduce the detectable anomaly.
Do that when I'm being examined. I can't afford questions I can't answer.
Private Meeting with Verne
Magistrate Verne received Elias in a small office rather than the formal council chambers. No other guild members present, no record-keepers, just the two of them and the careful neutrality both had learned to maintain.
"Thank you for coming, Voidsinger. What I'm about to share cannot leave this room."
"Understood."
Verne spread papers across her desk—intelligence reports, decoded messages, ship manifests. "Our observers have been tracking Solneran movements since their withdrawal. The pattern is concerning. They're not preparing immediate return assault. They're establishing long-term siege infrastructure."
Elias studied the documents. Supply depots at key locations surrounding Grimwald. Communication outposts. Diplomatic overtures to cities that traded with Grimwald. It wasn't military assault—it was systematic isolation.
"They're going to choke us economically," he concluded.
"Exactly. Within three months, Grimwald's trade will be severely restricted. Within six, we'll face serious shortages. Within a year, we'll be desperate enough to accept Solneran 'assistance'—which will come with conditions."
Efficient strategy, Threshold observed. Why risk military losses when economic pressure achieves the same result? Your enemy is patient and strategic.
"What does the Council propose?"
"Officially? The Council is divided. Some want to negotiate with Solnera immediately, accept limited oversight in exchange for maintaining trade. Others want to find alternative trade partners, though that's easier said than accomplished." Verne leaned back, her scarred throat catching lamplight. "Unofficially? I want your assessment. You faced their forces directly. You understand their capabilities and limitations. What do you think our realistic options are?"
It was a test—not of loyalty, but of judgment. Verne wanted to know if Elias could think strategically beyond simple combat.
She trusts your tactical instincts but questions your strategic understanding, Threshold offered. Demonstrate that you comprehend both military and economic dimensions.
Elias considered carefully before responding. "Militarily, we can defend against direct assault but not prolonged siege. Economically, we're vulnerable because Grimwald thrived through trade—we're merchant city, not self-sufficient fortress. Strategically, we need to make ourselves valuable enough to other powers that they'll maintain trade despite Solneran pressure."
"How do we make ourselves that valuable?"
"By being what others need. Grimwald has skilled craftsmen, efficient port facilities, and now a reputation for resisting Solneran control. Cities that fear Dominion expansion might value alliance with us—both for practical reasons and symbolic ones." He pointed to the intelligence reports. "We need to reach out to potential partners before Solnera completely isolates us. Build economic alliances that make our collapse too costly for neutral parties to allow."
Verne nodded slowly. "That's the conclusion I reached as well. But it requires significant resources and diplomatic effort. The Council is reluctant to commit to long-term strategy when immediate concerns dominate attention."
"Then the Council needs to understand that immediate concerns are symptoms of long-term problems. Solnera's return isn't the crisis—it's inevitable consequence of their expansion strategy. We either address the underlying pattern or keep fighting individual battles until we lose."
Well stated, Threshold approved. You're learning to think systematically rather than reactively.
"I'm bringing this to full Council tomorrow," Verne said. "Your presence at that meeting would be valuable—hearing this from you rather than just me might carry more weight."
"I'll be there."
"One more thing." Verne's expression became more guarded. "There have been rumors. Citizens reporting strange phenomena in the old city districts—sounds from underground, structural instabilities in unexpected places, claims of 'presences' in abandoned buildings. Most likely just hysteria following recent events, but... have you or your shadows sensed anything unusual?"
Elias felt Threshold tense in his awareness, patterns becoming very still.
Careful, the ancient consciousness warned. Truth without full disclosure.
"My shadows have been focused on immediate threats," Elias said carefully. "But I can have them survey the old districts, check for structural or magical anomalies. If there's something there, we should know about it."
"I'd appreciate that. Last thing we need is unknown complications while dealing with Solnera." Verne gathered her papers. "Thank you for your candor, Voidsinger. And for your discretion—this intelligence remains confidential until I brief the full Council."
"Understood."
Afternoon Reflection
Back at the tenement, Elias sat alone with his shadows and processed the day's events. He'd successfully concealed Threshold's existence from both Doctor Harvin and Magistrate Verne—but both had come uncomfortably close to detecting something.
You handled that well, Threshold observed. Maintaining secrets requires constant vigilance and careful truth-management. Lying invites detection. Selective disclosure allows honesty while protecting sensitive information.
You sound experienced with deception.
I survived in courts of ancient powers. Deception was tool of survival, not malice. Your situation is similar—you have secret that would complicate your position if revealed. Learning to protect it without becoming paranoid is essential skill.
Elias opened the Codex, curious whether it would acknowledge Threshold's presence. The book displayed new text:
You keep secrets now. Good. Power without discretion is vulnerability waiting for exploitation. The presence you harbor is unknown to most magical traditions—unique rather than unprecedented. Its knowledge may prove valuable, but verify all claims before trusting.
You did not reveal it to allies. Wise. Trust is resource to be allocated carefully, not distributed freely. Even those with good intentions can become liabilities if they know secrets they cannot protect.
Continue as you have begun: test the presence's knowledge, establish its limitations, determine its value. Only reveal when necessary or when the advantages outweigh risks.
The Codex's approval reassured Elias somewhat. If the book—which had guided him since the beginning—endorsed keeping Threshold secret, then perhaps it was the right choice.
Your book is remarkably perceptive, Threshold observed. It understands nuance that most magical artifacts lack. Where did you acquire it?
I found it. Or it found me. The origin is unclear.
Interesting. Such artifacts often have purposes beyond their apparent function. Be curious about what it wants from you, not just what it offers.
That was unsettling thought. Elias had trusted the Codex implicitly since binding his first shadow. The idea that it might have its own agenda...
Later, he decided. One mystery at a time.
Evening Training
As sunset approached, Elias took his shadows to the rooftops for training. Not combat drills this time, but something Threshold had suggested—testing the ancient consciousness's knowledge about resonance architecture.
He had Crimson analyze the old city foundations, looking for the mathematical patterns Threshold had described. The shadow's geometric nature made it ideal for identifying structural relationships.
At first, nothing seemed unusual. Then Crimson began detecting patterns—subtle ratios in the ancient stonework, harmonic progressions in the placement of support structures. The old builders had arranged their city according to principles that modern architecture ignored.
There, Threshold guided. See how the foundation stones align with natural energy flows? Your epoch builds for immediate stability. Mine built for resonance with underlying forces.
It was verifiable. Threshold's knowledge was genuine, at least in this instance.
This changes things, Elias acknowledged. If your knowledge is accurate...
Then I become valuable resource rather than dangerous liability. Precisely. Threshold's patterns shifted with something like satisfaction. I told you: my survival depends on proving my worth. I have knowledge your age has forgotten. Use it wisely, and we both benefit.
Elias watched the sun set over Grimwald, his six shadows arranged around him, his burned arm healing, his mind hosting consciousness from ages past, his city preparing for economic siege.
The situation was complex, dangerous, full of unknowns. But he'd learned to operate in complexity. Learned to keep secrets, to verify information, to trust carefully rather than freely.
He understood that information was power, that secrets were weapons, that survival required thinking three steps ahead.
Then we are well-matched, Threshold said. I have information. You have strategic mind. Together, we might navigate what comes better than either could alone.
Maybe, Elias allowed. But I'll verify everything you tell me before acting on it. Trust is earned, not given.
As it should be.
The fog rolled in as darkness fell, concealing Grimwald beneath its familiar shroud. Somewhere beyond the city, Solneran forces established their siege infrastructure. Somewhere in the streets below, citizens went about their lives, unaware of economic pressures building like storm clouds.
And on a rooftop, a young shadow-binder sat with his secrets and his shadows, planning for challenges he could see and threats he couldn't, trying to stay three steps ahead of forces that wanted to control or destroy him.
It was exhausting, isolating, dangerous work.
But it was also what survival required.
And Elias was learning to be very good at surviving.