• Raze shifted positions as he prepared for the attack. Weaponless, he knew he could still take on the 12 soldiers. Raze, a boy of 17, had a secret weapon. His shadow strength. As the opponents drew near, the darkness that started engulfing Raze intensified. The first soldier ran at him with a rusted silver axe high above his helm. Raze lowered his body until he could touch the ground without bending over. He put one hand, dark as ink, to the earth. The land immediately became black, and Raze started to pick up his hand. When the surface began to be covered in what looked like tar, he swung it at the charging enemy. Still connected to his body, the darkness enveloped the soldier, eating him. After a few seconds, Raze decided to kill another, this time by hardening the shadows into a sharpened sword like weapon, and slitting his throat. The next, by filling him up and making him pop, like an insignificant little tick. After that, he summoned his shadow, with a name impossible for the human tongue to pronounce, to kill the other eight. This was his power, the power to summon pure darkness from the earth, the power earned from a cruel demon. There were many ways to wield darkness, and not even half of the techniques are known to mortals. Raze was a black thumb, one who uses shadows, whether it be for good, or for evil. There were not many people with this power, but his brother shared the ability. But his brother was different. His brother, Cecil, was a hero. The maidens sang songs about him. The men praised him. He was a legend. He was somehow woven into every tale of heroic antics and whatnot. He turned and looked at the carnage. They were all dispatched within seconds. Each death more gruesome than the last. That was it. It was his turn to be the basis of children's stories in years to come. But, in this case, the stories would be warnings...