The Shadows- Fire's Hope

by E Kathryn

  He logged in to check who was online first, maybe a few international players, but it was unlikely Gary was up right now. None of the friends’ icons were lit, and he resolved to just play a mind-numbing first-person shooter with the com-generated firefight settings on extreme. The waves of NPCs to battle would keep him busy, and within his headphones, he could keep the volume up as high as he wanted.

  For an hour, all he cared about was making sure he didn’t miss an ammo drop as he fought the mindless waves of weak grunts and drones that were no match for his maxed-out character.

  Round after round, he saw nothing and heard nothing real. It was easier to sink back into than he expected, and after his time in the ASH, none of his habits had been broken. He wasn’t happy though, far from it. He still had to face his father, to show him the destroyed laptop, and to tell him he was a Shadow. With as quickly his mom had sent him away, he didn’t want to think about how his dad would react.

  Abruptly, Mark spotted a dark figure sitting up in the middle of the room and he jumped, pausing his game and shifting back on his bed to see Sil awake. Unfortunately, Sil’s hearing must have been keener than he expected. Sil scratched his head tiredly through the loose strands falling free from his braid, which had migrated around his neck like a rope.

  “Oh, sorry!” Mark apologized too quickly. “Was I too loud?” he asked with the big headphones around his neck.

  Sil shook his head, partially aware of how crazy his hair had become through the night. He attempted to smooth it down, but the effort did little. “What time is it?” he groaned, trying to find some light through the windows.

  Mark checked the time by hitting a button on his control so that the numbers displayed on the TV. “Six fifty-five.”

  “What are you doing up?” Sil asked, still rubbing his face.

  “Couldn’t sleep,” he said in short.

  “Same,” Sil forced, staring about the dark room at the vague silhouettes of the closet door and the dresser.

  Mark closed out of the game but left the TV on for the light. “Are you nervous about today?”

  Sil stared into his lap, forming an intricate snowflake in his hands. He didn’t have to say anything for Mark to know he was. Warily, he knitted his fingers together around the snowflake, fretting inside. “What if they don’t recognize me?” A thousand fears whirled about in his head. “I’ve seen them in visions. I know I’ll recognize them, but I don’t know how I’m going to convince them it’s me.”

  His fingers were shaking a little, and even in the darkness, Mark could see it. “I just keep thinking about what your mom said yesterday, about…” he swallowed hard, struggling to get the words out, “…how I don’t look like them.”

  Mark forced a chuckle to lighten the air. “That’s just your white hair.” Somehow, Sil looked up to meet eyes with him and Mark made himself be serious. “You look like your dad. You’ve got his eyes, his scowl, and you’re taller than me, so you’ve probably got his height.”

  Hope so strong and young appeared in Sil’s face, he lit up at the description. “You’re sure?”

  Nodding firmly, Mark set his feet over the side of his bed. “I’ve known Mr. Addison all my life, and when you first said your name was Addison, I saw it instantly. And if your dad doesn’t recognize you, your mom definitely will.”

  “Why?” Sil insisted a little despondently.

  “Because mothers are psychic!”

  Sil laughed, utterly perplexed by how serious Mark said it. “Really?” He raised a brow.

  “I’m dead serious. Once my mom has had some coffee, she can read my mind from across the room. I can’t get anything past her!”

  Able to smile, Sil pulled his braid over his shoulder. “I wish I had known them all this time, and had real parents, not just Keller and Kimberly, and the Shadows.”

  Mark fell silent, letting their uncomfortable first-impressions dissolve away. Sil was far from impervious and soulless, refining his Shadow so young was a mask to live up to an unattainable desire. The Shadows were never enough for Sil. All he wanted was his family. At least, that was what Mark could guess right now. His knowledge of Sil’s heart evolved with every hour, but he had a feeling he’d never fully understand him. For the time being, that was okay.

  As morning arrived, Sil started his day by retying his braid as neatly as possible then heading outside to call down his hawk. He sensed Mark spying on him through the front window, but he clung to Winter, cradling her in his arms and spreading a light frost over her wings as he turned back.

  “Is it all right if I bring her inside?” he asked Marissa in the doorway. The woman nodded, standing aside as Sil entered, allowing the huge bird to climb up on his shoulder and perch there. He told himself he was ready, but he was certain no amount of mental preparedness would settle the knot in his stomach.

  The morning inched by, and Sil panicked inside when he heard Marissa giving the Addisons a call. She didn’t tell them the truth, only mentioning that Mark was coming by with June, and that he had some friends with him. The half-truth made his nervousness worse. He skipped breakfast, and he waited on the couch for Marissa to get June ready to leave. Emilie seemed to already be part of the family, terrorizing June and startling Marissa with how flippantly she floated around, using her Shadow.

  She barely touched the ground for more than a few seconds at a time and was often close to the ceiling. Sil leaned back into the couch with his pet, stroking her feathers as she tolerated his affection. Meanwhile Mark, inhaling breakfast across from Sil, seemed to be enjoying the nervousness wrought across Sil’s face.

  June got together warm clothes, a coat, and a bike helmet and scrambled out the kitchen door into the garage. Chomping at the bit to leave, June pushed the Shadows along, urging them to follow, and Marissa waved them off at the door. Sil was a little surprised that Marissa seemed so relaxed to let her two children out into the street. He wasn’t sure how long the walk was, but the idea of a six-year-old with only her big brother as a chaperone to walk alone, worried him.

  Mark pointed out the house when it came into view, only a few blocks from the Halo’s, and as they drew nearer, Sil’s anxiety grew more and more. June happily pedaled along in her little purple bike along the sidewalk, taking no note of her brother walking behind her, and Emilie flying up by Sil’s shoulder.

  He could barely walk forward without Emilie holding his arm and pushing him along and kept a fiddling finger underneath the edge of his arm guard. He was very thankful for Emilie. She was always there for him, either as the object of his irritation or a nice presence to be around. Whether through violence or calm words, Emilie was his closest friend.

  Sil stopped in his tracks when he could make out the green front door and stared at the house for a few moments. The siding of the house was sky blue, with a small concrete porch. It had gardens all around, and one very large bush at the end of the driveway, which was bright red from the cold season. Also, Sil noted the garage door was sitting open displaying a set of family’s bikes. He didn’t know why but that calmed him some as if the family’s openness was evident in this.

  Mark pushed Sil ahead of the group, nudging him to step up the front porch. He dragged his feet, paralyzed at the metal door. He wasn’t worried. He tried to tell himself to calm down, but he couldn’t formulate any thoughts other than terror.

  He nervously pulled his long braid over his shoulder, draping the snake-like rope in front of him. Inhaling deeply, he raised his hand as it clenched into a fist. He hesitated once more, and then knocked.

  A dog barked almost the instant Sil’s fist hit the door. Winter took off for the sky, and Sil jumped back into Mark, shuddering at the sound, but he didn’t move as much as he wanted to. The dog was a puppy, he could tell just by hearing it as it barked on and on, until finally someone hushed it. A man opened the door, to greet June and Mark, but when he saw Sil, he stopped.

  He stared, perplexed, and caught off guard, then he finally spoke softly. “Can I
help you?”

  His eyes widen and petrified, Sil felt his heart stop and twist up in his chest. That was his father! He swallowed hard, past the lump in his throat. “Are you Mr. Addison?”

  The man frowned nervously. “I am.” He spotted Mark and June standing behind the white-haired young man and relaxed slightly.

  “André, are you going to just stand there or let Mark and June in?” a woman called from the powder room at the entry of the hall.

  André hesitated a moment, then stepped aside out of the doorway, gesturing for them to come in. June hurried into the house and quickly found an almost-two-year-old child playing on the floor in the kitchen.

  Mr. Addison stared at the three strange teenagers as they entered his house, a wondering expression on his face. “Mark…” he eyed the boy skeptically, “who are your friends?”

  Sil glared at Mark hatefully, making his golden eyes flare icy blue, but he still said nothing. Mark swallowed, seeing Sil’s ire made him act rashly.

  “This is Sil, he—”

  Sil elbowed Mark in the side harshly, silencing Mark who hugged his ribs, wincing.

  Sil met eyes with Mr. Addison, hiding the flare of his golden eyes to not scare him. “Where is Mrs. Addison?” At this point, Sil lost sight of anything he had rehearsed in his head.

  The man turned a skeptical downward glare at him and stepped away toward the hall. “Arianne…” he said, but the next few things he said were indistinct to the Shadows. Sil had a moment to glance about the room to get a bearing on his surroundings. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were open in a large, welcoming home, and to the right of the door was a staircase and balcony overlooking the expanse of the white interior. Sil could vaguely see bedroom doors in the halls upstairs, but his gaze was called away as a woman approached him.

  She carried an overflowing basket of laundry hot out of the dryer which she plopped down on the living room sofa, offering Sil only a sideways glance. “Who are you?” she asked sharply as she began to fold the laundry.

  The three simple words struck at Sil like a mountain of ice landing on top of him. The disdain in her voice terrified him and it became clear that starting by asking for her was a bad idea. Now he wanted Mark to talk for him, but he had already shut the poor idiot up. “My name is… Silverstonarellena,” the words felt thick in his mouth like honey. On a whim he found himself adding, “Shadow Frost.”

  The two adults perked up, staring directly at him with glaring, brutal gazes. It hurt, Sil wanted to shirk back, but Mark stayed behind him, holding him firm. He didn’t know why that comforted him. Arianne and André stood fast. It felt like they towered over him, and revealing he was a Shadow made them terrified. He could see it in their faces and feel it in his heart, they were sizing him up to push him out, to lock the doors, and call the police.

  Sil blew through half-closed lips, forcing his heart to stop racing. He didn’t know anything about them, he couldn’t assume so much. “But…” speaking now was painful, “My real name is… Zachary.”

  He closed his eyes and winced just as Arianne tensed, dropping the piece of laundry back into the basket. Sil flinched as she looked him over, at his long white hair, his golden eyes, and the scars on his face. Hurriedly, she took two steps closer to him, hesitating and debating in her heart as Sil leaned away.

  She turned her gaze to his right hand, watching as he clenched it shut and faintly blue ice spread across it. Abruptly, she lunged at him, grabbing his wrist and pulling it up to her face. The woman stared deeply into his pale fingers. She tugged him closer, and with a forceful but gentle grip, she guided his hand toward her heart.

  Sil yanked away terrified, but her vise-like hand tightened on his. She wouldn’t release him no matter how hard he fought, but she closed her eyes when a rush of cold from his Shadow flowed through her.

  “When you were a baby, you did this to me…” she said quietly.

  André jumped forward. “Aria, you mean, it’s the same feeling?” Sil took the opportunity to draw back and stopped using his Shadow, but Arianne held his wrist firm.

  “Do it again, freeze your hand.” Arianne demanded eagerly, startling Sil, but he complied, so that it turned blue with frost. “Yes…” she whispered exhilarated. “A winter breeze. It’s exactly the same feeling!”

  Sil wrenched his hand away, pulling back abruptly, but before he could ask, or say a single word, André took him by the shoulders, shocked disbelief in his face. His eyes dashed about Sil’s features, his Shadow traits, his sharp chin and cheeks, and dark brow. Sil’s thoughts scattered back to what Marissa had said, he didn’t look anything like the Addisons. This fear made him doubt every hope in André’s eyes.

  “Zachary!” André got out in a cracking voice, though mostly breath before he tightly thrust his arms around Sil, embracing him to never let him go again. “My son!”

  Sil trembled as the touch of another restrained him. He didn’t want anything to touch him or hold him back, but then André’s words ripped through him, ringing through his head, and he let go of every emotion he hid in his heart, letting it pour out. This was his father holding tightly to the son he had lost. He had a family, a mother and a father who had both missed him and recognized him instantly, and he had a home.

  His hands trembled, drifting up to clench around his father’s back and hold him as long as he could. The burns on his chest and face stung as they pressed against his father’s body, but that pain was worth every second to simply hold his father in his arms. It wasn’t agony that pained Sil’s skin, it was joy! Joy, writhing throughout his being! Joy, overflowing through his eyes as tears! Joy, that stung his face as the tears dripped down along his burns.

  André, his father, guided his shoulders suddenly to stare into his face which was level with his own, and he laughed, still disbelieving that his son had returned. His father released him and directed Sil to his mother embracing her as well, renewing the joy from the pain of his burns.

  He froze his lips as he kissed his mother on her cheeks and froze his hands while they were wrapped around her. Then a new feeling came over him, a feeling he had never felt before, even among the Shadows, one that made his heart feel as if it were going to explode, releasing emotions he had never felt, the feeling of being whole!

  “Girls! Come down here!” André shouted suddenly. Before Sil could jump away skittishly, a pair of girls scurried out from their room and nearly threw themselves over the balcony to see the open foyer. Sil’s eyes fixated on them, a pair of fair-faced girls with icy blonde hair, not white like his own, but close enough.

  They rushed down the stairs to their father as André placed his big hands on the back of Sil’s shoulders, presenting him. “Marlo… Marie, this is your brother, Zachary.”

  Sil couldn’t tell Marlo from Marie, and it occurred to him that Mark had mentioned they were twins. He tried to smile at them, but it was impossible.

  One of the girls raised an eyebrow. “You mean, he’s a Shadow?” she said as if Sil’s existence was a story shared fondly through the family.

  Uneasily, he made himself respond. “I am… I’m Shadow Frost, I can…” He hesitated at the sight of their wide eyes. “…make ice and control it.” He thought to demonstrate with a little snowflake, one of the intricate ones he loved to form, but somehow it felt like his Shadow was completely out of his control.

  “How old are you?” the other one asked, stepping on her sister’s foot.

  “Fourteen,” he answered easily, and his sister nodded as if another detail from the story had been confirmed.

  “Mark,” André puzzled, staring at the awkward boy in the doorway. Sil laughed at Mark’s complacent posture in the foyer, unsure whether to step in or keep his mouth shut. He perked up when addressed. “How did you find him? He was taken to the ASH. How did you know?”

  Mark managed a kind, innocent smile that Sil found himself admiring. As much as Sil liked to think Mark was an idiot, he was really just kind and a little naïve. “
I found out I’m a Shadow too. They took me to the ASH, and I met Sil there. It took a while, but he told me his real name, and when I heard his last name was Addison, I knew instantly!”

  André grinned warmly and gestured Mark over, giving him a brisk smack on the back. “We have you to thank for this then.” Mark gasped at the pain and reeled over again giving Sil a good and honest laugh. Mark was totally winded as he glared at Sil, flaring his crimson eyes.

  Arianne somehow had the emotional satisfaction to continue folding her pile of laundry. “So, when did your name get changed to Sil?”

  Blushing, Sil drew closer to her, imposing himself on the sofa and quietly inviting Emilie to drift alongside him. “I-well… I made it up. I got everyone to call me Sil instead of Zack or something.”

  “Well,” Arianne grinned, her cheeks turning red like his as she placed a folded shirt upon the couch beside him, “would you like us to call you Sil?”

  Waiting for Emilie to float down to him, Sil’s spine stiffened and on impulse he shook his head, “No… I… I’m home now. I want my real name.”

  “That’s fine,” André murmured, taking his wife in his arm lovingly, “Zack sounds good.”

  “It’ll take a while for me to get used to it.” Sil provided a fake smile. “But I’d like that.”

  “Who’s this young lady, Mark?” Arianne said referring to Emilie and inviting Mark to join them in spite of not having a clue what to do with himself.

  He flustered, and brushed the scarlet strand out of his face, “Oh, uh… this is my cousin, Emilie Meyvise.”

  “It’s nice to meet you Emilie,” André said, holding out a hand to shake.

  Emilie leaned forward, smiling wryly, clearly offended by any advances at human contact, “You can call me Feather. It’s nice to meet you too.” She shook André’s hand with a fierce grip. Sil began to think with this, she was either very defensive about any man touching, or she was just a bit racist about humans.