The Shadow Court

Chapter 2 - Knight in shadowy armour

"Again!" The Shadow King's shouts bounced off the metal walls of the training room, making it even harder to concentrate. "Focus your energy, Knight!"

Callum wiped the sweat away from his forehead and faced the target. He'd been forced to repeatedly strike a metal ring target on the wall for hours, and his aim hadn't changed a bit. Every strike had been precise.

Once more, Callum focused his energy into his palm and watched it start to glow red. He felt a surge of heat through his arm and a sphere of light exploded to life from his fingertips. It pulsed and spun like a tiny star, then Callum willed it to shoot forward and hit the centre of the target. It did so, combusting into a flare of red light and energy before dissipating.

The King grunted, slowly nodding his head in Callum's direction. "Very nice."

Callum knew that, coming from the King, "very nice" was a solid achievement. Behind the red eyes full of passion and rage, the greying hair and wrinkles marking wisdom and power and the arsenal of godly abilities, the King was like Callum's father. At a young age, Callum's real father had been taken by thugs, and his mother had ran away. She was a coward, Callum had always told himself. If only she'd stood up to them.

The King stepped down from his podium and approached Callum. His entire body, apart from his head, was shrouded in a black cloak. Completing the look were a pair of black boots and gloves and a silver chain around his neck.

"You know what comes next." He took the chain off with one hand and let it dangle at his side. "Prepare yourself."

Callum took a deep breath and willed his battle axe to appear. The air went hazy around his hand for a moment, then smoky red, and a flash of red light later his axe was ready to go. It was a brilliant black blade made from obsidian with an aura of red energy emanating from the sharpest points. He held it in both hands and awaited the King's next move.

His master gently cocked his head to the side and a little cracking sound rang out. "Just like we practised. Try to disarm me." The chain at his side suddenly straightened itself out and elongated until he was holding a staff made of chain links. The metal then darkened to the same shade of black as Callum's axe, and the holes between each link filled in. Finally, the end pointing towards Callum sharpened into a deadly point.

The King raised his pointed staff and aimed it directly at his apprentice's heart. "Begin."

Without waiting for the King to make a move, Callum rushed forward and lashed out with his axe. Their two weapons collided over and over again, each time resulting in a firework of red sparks. Callum's attacks were fierce; a result of vigorous training, but nevertheless the King managed to block and parry every strike with the speed of a lion.

After clashing weapons and dodging deadly strikes for a good ten minutes, Callum decided to bet everything on his next move. He went for a slice at the King's right side, but changed direction at the last second with a skilful move of his right hand and aimed for an overhead strike. The King was momentarily taken aback, but sprung to action just as quickly. The clang of metal against metal once again cascaded off the walls as the axe came down and struck the King's staff. Then, faster than Callum could comprehend, the King spun around, swinging his staff like a baseball bat, and slammed it into the right side of Callum's upper body. His apprentice skidded across the floor and crashed into the wall with a solid bang.

Callum groaned in pain, immediately feeling a surge of heat flare up through the right side of his ribcage. He slowly got to his feet, noticing that his axe had disappeared upon losing the spar. The King was standing in front of him, his face devoid of any emotions. For an old guy, Callum thought for the thousandth time, he moves damn quick.

"You need to work on your control." The King stated, matter-of-factly. "I have a feeling that something is bothering you."

This, of course, was not a question. The King knew exactly what went on in Callum's head, whether he liked it or not. Lately, he'd found a way to only show the King specific thoughts at a time, but it would take a lot of time to completely block him out.

"If you're wondering... why I helped out the Rebel League... it was only because I owed one of them... a favour." Callum puffed, his voice hollow and croaky.

The King grunted. "You know I can feel your emotions, right? You're extremely nervous. Surely, I'm not that scary."

Callum managed to fake a convincing snicker. "No, I'm just... tired. I've been so... tired lately. It scares me that you beat me so... easily."

A ghostly smile played at the edges of the King's mouth. "Go get some rest, and don't worry about the battle. We were all confused and scared. We all did things without thinking."

Callum secretly doubted that the King had made any last minute decisions, but kept a happy train of thought. It seemed to convince the King, because he turned away and left the room without looking back. Callum made his way out through another door leading to his room. He kept his hand at his side, wincing as every step sent another flare of pain rising up his chest. Three hallways later, he pulled his door aside with his free hand and shoved it closed behind him. His room consisted of grey metal walls; black carpet; a murky grey bed, like the ocean during a storm; a chest of drawers and a closet for clothes and a vast number of posters lining the walls.

Callum flicked a switch next to the door and a circle of light flashed on in the middle of the roof. He threw himself onto his bed and could make out his reflection in the metal above him. His wavy brown hair formed a halo around his head, and there were dark shadows beneath his intense red eyes. Even though his eyes had changed colour years ago when he'd received his powers, Callum still managed to surprise himself occasionally with his reflection. This, however, was not one of those times.

Too many thoughts were crammed inside his head to be shocked with anything at the moment. He thought about his sister, Briannon, who'd sided with the Rebel League and was now a part of their crew. He thought about his best friend, Jack, who'd been left behind when the Shadow Court had fled the battle. He thought about Ruby, whom he still had feelings for but knew would never again return the affection. He rolled to the side and stared at one of the posters on his wall. It depicted a Japanese Samurai, wielding a deadly sword. Callum had always been fascinated by ninjas, but being one was hard work.

This train of thought led him to flashback to the time he'd first created "the Samurai." Back when the King had first granted him the power to manipulate energy and weaponise it. He was given the simple instructions to take down the Crime Lords and make sure they stayed out of the way. Callum had enlisted the help of his best friend and his sister, both of which were skilled in the arts of stealth and combat and had their own hidden tricks up their sleeves. Their quest to stop the infamous criminal group had been cut short when Estella, who was strictly under the King's protection, had been recruited as a Commander of the group. The King gave them new orders to capture Estella, which had been unnecessary in the end because the Rebel League had come to them instead.

Now, alone and confused, Callum fought back the urge to storm out of the factory and unleash all his energy upon the surrounding forest.

One thing he knew for certain was that he didn't trust the King. He was manipulative and preyed on the weak. When Callum had asked if he could bring Jack into the Shadow Court, the King had told him that Jack was "unreliable, and would probably end up betraying them like Briannon."

Just as Callum was about to change out of his training clothes, someone knocked loudly on the door. Callum called for them to come in, and a guard slid the door open and stepped inside.

"Shadow Knight." The guard addressed him by his code name. "The King has requested an immediate audience with you in the basement."

"What for?" Callum asked, getting to his feet too quickly and wincing in pain.

The guard smiled, which was out of character for a guard. "She's awake. Estella's awake."