Shadowests

Three of Z’s days passed in a bland monotone, her life back to the way it was, no George, only Granny and her work in her tea shop. Still, her mind was dominated by the fierce woman’s presence, curious as to why she felt the urgency to know her, to realize why she’s so familiar. However, they haven’t seen each other since, even George who, unfortunately, was offended when Z did not accept the cloak he bought.

“Are you okay, kid?” said Granny Williams, a seventy-year-old Wielder who managed to keep her younger features—that was so alike with George’s—even her sweet voice. In fact, she looked more like his sister than his grandmother. This was because of her fine skills with brewing anti-aging potions of her invention. She drinks this potion every year, which would drive her unconscious for days.

Many Wielders were drawn to its unwavering effect but not everyone has the patient and the determination to brew such a potion. Besides, it could never stop them from dying, so others merely let themselves withered with old age.

Aging was and has always been their destiny, after all.

Adjusting the cup on the pan she’s balancing, Z smiled a little. “I’m okay, Granny.”

Granny shook her head, watching as Z served the coffee.

Little their interaction might be, she already sized her up. Z’s not the type to talk about what’s bothering her. To her, it’s such a disgraceful act that must not be tolerated, which was and had always been wrong.

As a psychologist, it’s her specialty to unravel each of her patient’s characteristics through their behavior. She used this analysis to find out what type of shadow they possessed. Shadows, for her, were a fascinating subject, just as intriguing as Z had always been.

She was already retired when she and George found Z in the woods a year ago, broken and wounded. Summoning her shadow, she examined her body, realizing at the touch of her skin that her wounds were internal, only visible at the rays of the full moon. Filled with wonders, they brought her home, torn between further examining her or else treating her.

In the end, she decided it was better to treat her first.

“George, please fetch me some lavender. We need some tea for the wound to manifest.”

Without another word, he set off.

Alone with her shadow, they turned the room upside-down, just so the moon’s rays could lighten her wounds. It wasn’t bleeding, but it was crawling like a pest, feeding with her flesh.

“What do you think it is, Mary?” she asked her shadow.

‘Internal wound is far more different than visible ones. It isn’t painful, but it is there. It will kill its host once it’s stored for too long.’

The Shadow and the Wielder have interlinked minds. They could interact with one another using their thoughts, imagination, and perception. This link between them strengthened as they grew together and once the binding had been cut, both of them would cease to exist.

“I know that—” She prowled back and forth, thinking fast. “—but I have no experience with these things. I study the mind, not the body.”

‘Which is just right. Internal wound is psychological, Master. It is linked, maybe, to the host’s past, which you can only penetrate through her memories.’

“Right.” She smiled a little. “Let’s get to work.”

It took them less than a minute to connect some wires on Z’s temple and to clean the dirt off her. There was a clicking sound as the transparent monitor synced her memories. It loaded till seventy percent before pushing back to zero.

Brows furrowing, she tried and tried, until a smoke puffed out of the monitor, followed by a long streak of line, and it exploded. Flames erupted from it, but her shadow swiftly opened the thin line below its featureless face. It sucked the raging fire, though some of it already touched Granny's shoulder.

“Granny!” shouted George who just came in, using the bag of lavender to fan the smoke away.

“What happened?” He eyed her grandma but aside from the first-degree burns, she appeared to be fine.

“I tried—I tried to register h-her memory.”

“Why—”

“Let’s—let’s talk about it later.” She coughed as she inhaled smoke. “Give me t-the lavender first.”

With a frown, he handed the bag.

Granny pinched each of the lavender to the open mouth of her patient, deciding that the material should be fresh to have a greater result. In no time, wounds slit her skin, bleeding. Her face then crumpled as the pain crushed through her unconsciousness.

“What’s happening, Granny?”

“She has internal wounds and we need to make it external, so we can… we can…”

Her eyes were bulging, her heart beating rather fast. She couldn’t believe her eyes. No, she must be imagining it. However, no pinching, no shaking whatsoever vanquished the image she’s witnessing.

There was a dark aura crawling on Z’s body. It slithered up to the ceiling, eerily singing a slow tune and wafting the air with a horrible smell. It pricked the hair on the back of her neck. Then before her eyes, it plunged through the woman’s chest, like a diver falling from a cliff down to a deep river.

Z then sat abruptly, as though struck, her eyes flickering from midnight blue to black before settling to pea-green. The moment it did, her lion-like feature distorted until, with a crunching sound, it became a prominent heart-shaped face, her jaw more relaxed than before.

From then on, Granny made it her task to observe her. There was something about her that intrigued her the most. It was neither the fact that they found no shadow from her nor the fact that all she could remember was her first name’s initial. It’s Z’s calculated move that made her wonder.

It felt as if she’s hiding something, something that’s way creepier than anything she could imagine.

“Granny, I’ll be leaving now,” said Z, hanging her apron at the stand beside the neat counter, waking her up from her reverie.

She tried to smile. It looked more like a grimace from where Z stood, though. “Keep safe, okay?”

“I will?” Confused, Z waved and walked out, humming a little.

The moment she was gone, Granny started calculating the profit for the day, just as their last customer exited, bidding her a cheerful goodbye.

The monitor loaded for a mere second before a square appeared, its half twinkling with black energy.

“Hmm. Not bad.”

She highlighted half of the energy and deposited it to her bank account, receiving notification of how much her deposits were. All of these things, if ever she dies, would be inherited by George and Z. Since Z’s shadowless, she’s been working for months without accepting any salary, so Granny decided to save up money for her.

She’d been distracted when an eighteen-year-old man, wearing a wine-red steampunk jacket, paired with black ripped jeans, heavily stomped inside. His delinquent face, punctured by a long linear scar, looked creepy as he grinned, his protruding eyes twinkling with malice.

“Afternoon, m'lady.” He put his hands in his pocket while leaning on the nearest post.

Her eyes bored at the triangular earing in his right ear before saying, “What can I do for a Masakonian like you, Mister?”

“Looking sharp. I’m glad your looks reciprocate your brain.” He bit the lower part of his lips, satisfying himself with the bulge on her chest.

“We don’t have all the time, kid! Tell me what you want, so I can offer my service.”

“Ooh, service! With that body? Wow! That’ll be awesome! I’d be glad to lose my virginity if it’s for you, pumpkin.”

“Quit fooling around.” The moment contempt filled her voice, her shadow instantly appeared beside her. “I already know who you are.”

“Really?”

“The energy you’re releasing is that of someone who lived an ungrateful life. You were either born by mistake, or someone who’s not supposed to live.” Her shadow moved closer as the man’s face darkened, but she went on, “The diamonds dilating in your orbs, on the other hand, speak of a soul who lust for attention both in the world and in the bed.”

“I’m impressed.” His lips pursed one of his brows raised. “You got the gist of who I am.”

There was a swishing sound, followed by a light brighter than a flash of lightning, and he’s already at Granny’s back, his hand wrapped around her neck, his lips pressing against it. Her shadow, meanwhile, replaced him beside the post, unmoving.

“Give me one reason to take your life and I swear… I swear I will!”

Shivers ran down Granny’s spine as his hand moved down to her breast. With her eyes flickering, she banged her head on his, owing for a piercing ringing to reverberate in her ears. It felt as if her brain would explode any second. It’s worth it, though, because he already moved away from her, nursing the pain in his head.

A moment of his distraction allowed her shadow to move.

Wasting no time, she slammed a glass on the counter, then she pointed its sharp, broken piece at him. “Don’t underestimate me, boy! I can cut that playful hands of yours, right here, right now! Tell me! What do you want?”

“What did I tell you, Mr. George? There is no time for your game.”

To Granny’s surprise, it was a deep voice who answered, quite unlike the man he’s facing.

Wheeling around, she found the source sitting comfortably on the table, his chest puffed-out, his arms and legs crossed. He’s wearing a black hood, shadowing most of his features, but she could make out a pale lip and pointed nose.

“Hail Halcht, misses. We mean no harm. In behalf of my immature member, I apologize for the havoc he may have caused.”

“This doesn’t concern you! I can do this mission all by myself—”

“Don’t think highly of yourself, Mr. George. You fail to understand a simplest instruction from your leader—” He pointed himself. “—and you expect me to just wait for you to cause disaster? I will no longer allow you to tarnish our school’s reputation—”

“You think I’ll still believe you? You lost your authority when Blame disappeared on your watch—”

“She chose to leave. It’s no one’s fault but hers—”

“Another useless excuse from you—”

“Mr. George, may I remind you why you’re here. Any drama can wait.” Hail turned to Granny who’s looking from one man to the other, confused as to why they’re arguing in front of her. “Mrs. Williams, we came all the way from Shadow Wielders Institute of Knowledge to talk to Blame.”

“Wait, what? Who’s Blame? I’ve never encountered such names—”

“Don’t lie, m’lady. I’ve seen her walked out of your restaurant—or at least I thought.” Briane George put his finger on his lips, his face screwed.

“You’ve seen her?” said Hail sharply.

“Are you deaf? I just said it I thought I did.”

“Then why didn’t you talk to her?”

“Well—” Briane twitched uncomfortably. “—you told me I should talk to Granny Williams—”

“You’re an idiot!” Hail slumped to the nearest chair, his eyes closed, his lips pursed.

“I didn’t know, okay?” He brushed the back of his neck. “She looked different. I didn’t think it’d be wise to approach her.”

“Since when did being wise mattered to you?”

Before Briane could open his lips to argue, Granny said exasperatedly, “Can you explain first? I can’t understand a thing both of you are saying.”

“M’lady—”

“Quit using that tone, will you? I’m older than you and I ought to receive the respect I deserve.”

“Fine! I’ll call you oldie then if that’s more suitable for you.”

Granny looked as though she’s about to explode, but Briane merely smiled.

“As I hope you understand, we’re here with the headmaster’s request. He believed it is through you that we can finally locate Blame Seirt who we’ve been tracking for a year now—”

“A year ago?”

“Yes, Mrs. Williams.” Hail jumped out of the chair, thrilled by the hint of recognition in Granny’s eyes. He extracted an old photo from his pocket and handed it to her. “Ms. Seirt is a comrade in arms whose existence allowed hundreds of accomplished missions both from the school administration and the headmaster. As far as we know, she had taken a solo mission a year ago before she went missing.”

“You’re looking for Blame. Blame… No matter how I hear the name, it really doesn’t ring a bell.” She sighed at the disappointed looks in them.

Wanting something to do, she looked down at the photo and found to her surprise a featre so wickedly familiar. It was the same lion-like features she had once seen in Z before it changed right before her eyes. She looked younger in the picture, though, her smiles reaching her eyes that was twinkling. But Z couldn’t possibly be Blame Seirt. Hadn’t she said she could remember the initials of her name? Since when did Z meant Blame?

Briane smiled triumphantly, recognizing the confused expression in her face as something closely related to what he felt when taking an exam, when there’s an item whose answer was achingly familiar but he couldn’t put his pen to it. “So, you really did know her.” He was surprised with his own words, for it wasn’t a question, which was what he intended to do.

“I’m sorry—” She cleared her throat. “— but I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”

The moment she lied, there was a loud bang. Metal doors were falling like curtains, covering the glass walls. Granny felt her shadow at her back, just as darkness engulfed the whole of them. Heart clenching, hands shaking, she tried to find some escape, but her mind wasn’t cooperating. She could still see the image they’d shown her, and it was bothering her more than it should.

Blame’s eyes speak of a different person, way contrasting than Z’s mysterious orbs had been. However fierce Blame’s gaze, it’s nothing compared to Z’s that could trap anyone who dared stared for too long.

After a while, blue flames danced on Hail’s palm. It was releasing an odd hissing sound, making the hair on the back of her neck stood. As it danced, it released a ball of lights that hovered above them, forming a round chandelier. It illuminated what had become of the room.

To her astonishment, they were no longer at the restaurant. She could still feel her shadow, but when she looked back, she couldn’t see her, even Briane. They were now standing in an ancient-looking room, its walls stained by what seemed to be blood. The bed and the furniture were turned upside-down.

She linked her arms around her waist when a corpse-smelling wind whoosh past her. This horrible place. Why were they here? As though answering her question, she glared at Hail. His face was still shadowed by his hood despite the fire erupting on his palm.

“How dare you put me in a trance—”

“Save up your crap! I didn’t come here for lies. As a psychologist, you should’ve known that. Isn’t it your specialty to analyze our characteristics or was it a lie, too?” It was when he looked up did Granny had a glimpse of his terrifying red eyes, its corners splashed with sky-blue tint, beating.

“You can’t threaten me, child—”

Her heart stopped beating when a child who looked so much like her ran into the room, her whole body quivering, tears falling from her innocent eyes.

“Come here, you useless child!” A man came in, looking like a savage lion ready to kill its prey.

The child covered herself with a blanket; however, the man was able to see through her. In no time, the room was filled with the cries of the child, reverberating bluntly.

Granny fell on her knees, her hands on her ears, blood flowing from her eyes instead of tears.

“Stop it, please! Just stop it!”

Hail’s rather enjoying her vulnerability. He’s not fond of liars, so he deemed it crucial to make them learn not to commit the same mistake.

But, he needed her sanity for questioning.

Deciding against his better judgment, he blew the flames above them. It didn’t die, though. It only puffed out smoke that melted the image of a man beating his child.

Even after it vanished, Granny’s still down, sobbing. The root of her pursuing psychology was the traumatic events of her childhood. She wanted to understand her father for creating her nightmares, she wanted to heal herself, but all these times, the wound was still there, fresher than ever.

It took her a moment to, finally, got a hold of herself. Hiccoughing slightly, she said, “What do you want to know?” She wiped the blood off her cheeks.

A creepy smile curved Hail’s lip. “Everything.”

As he wished, Granny told her everything she knew and everything she didn’t. She told him of how Z mysteriously lost her shadow, how she couldn’t remember a thing, and how internal wounds still bleed inside of her. She kept the fact that Z knew the initials of her name, though. Fortunately, Hail was satisfied.

“Thank you, Mrs. Williams. Before I take my leave, I want to inform you that we’ll be back tomorrow to bring her with us—”

“You can’t do that—”

“Of course, I can. We can take care of her.”

“It’s still her decision. I don’t want you to force her—”

“I’m not asking for your opinion nor your permission. I’m merely telling you of the drill.”

Before Granny could say anything, there came an echoing sound of breaking glass, just as the fire went out. The walls of the room then melted, revealing the restaurant where Briane—his face crumpled, his arms crossed—and her shadow stood.

“Where were—”

“Let’s go, Mr. George. We’re running out of time.” Without waiting for his approval, he walked out.

Briane glared at his broad back, imagining his terrible death.

“Those kids.” Granny shook her head, realizing, for a little while, that she’d been threatened by two students who still hadn’t got proper training.