The Shadows- Fire's Hope

by E Kathryn

“Are you okay?” André addressed, noticing how Sil reverted to his normal sulking expression. The man didn’t know any better yet, and Sil did his best to mask the need to avoid emotional contact.

  “I’m fine,” he insisted in a lie, stretching his luck. He was overwhelmed, but when he looked at his father’s face, the man’s frosty graying hair, his deep-set blue eyes, he was taken off guard. It was his own face he was gazing at, older, matured, and without a doubt, he knew Mark was right. “I’m fine,” he whispered again, his fear slowly melting away in the truest sense. Breath fell heavy from his lips as he looked from his father to his mother. No Shadows, no craziness, no need to be the strongest, no need to seem together in his life.

  “I’m home.”

  After a relaxing first meal with his family, Sil followed André up the stairs and along the balcony into a small guest bedroom. It took very little for them to offer for him to stay indefinitely, and Sil was quietly grateful. The room was larger than Mark’s, obviously smaller than what he was used to, but he didn’t need the kind of space he had in the ASH.

  The room had a small desk under a single window facing the backyard. A closet door stood along the far wall, and a dresser in the back-right corner both containing random stored things of no interest. But in the center of the room was a twin sized bed, made with a dark teal bedspread. It was to be his bed.

  The bare walls were also painted teal, almost matching the bed spread, and every accent of the room from the bed frame, the doorknobs, and the dresser handles were gold. With the light off, the room seemed very dull, but when André switched on the light it became very homey and open. Sil liked the space. It was clean, smelled like a candle, and the window overlooking the backyard was a blessing he never thought he would have.

  He stepped across the carpeted floor to peer out and savor the view. They had a big yard with an old playset close to the back door, but farther out there was a fence surrounding the whole yard, and a smaller fence made of wire surrounding a small shed too tiny for tools. “What’s that?” he asked his father.

  André checked to make sure the bed had sheets on it. “What’s what?”

  “The little shed out there.”

  “Oh.” André shrugged it off and joined him. “That’s our chicken coop. We don’t have a lot of chickens right now, but we’ll get more in the spring.”

  “Oh, dear.” Sil mused to himself, “I have a hawk. I’m going to have to keep her away from those chickens.”

  André chuckled with a little forced humor. “Yeah, we’ve had some problems with hawks. But having chickens means free eggs, free-range food, and of course, endless fun for the puppy.”

  Sil smiled, only having gotten a glimpse of the dog at first, but now he saw it scampering around the fenced yard, sniffing around and digging holes in the mud. “What’s its name?”

  Nudging him in the shoulder, André urged him out. “Mango, why don’t you come meet her?”

  Nodding eagerly, Sil didn’t have to be tugged along, he was practically leading his father down the stairs. André only guided him to the backyard, setting him free in the muddy space. The puppy galloped at the sight of the new person, happy to meet anyone, and she threw herself into Sil, wagging her whole butt with excitement.

  Sil got down on his knees, petting the dog all over. He had never seen a dog in real life, so sheltered he was shocked at how soft her fur was and how enthusiastic a puppy could be. André stood over him chuckling. “She’s a lab mix, we’re not sure with what, but we’re guessing it’s pit-bull. She’s tough as nails, and she’s got a hard head!”

  Letting Mango lick his face, Sil practically hugged the dog just to keep her under control. “How old is she?”

  “Let’s see, I think we got her in March, so…” he counted the months on his fingers. “Eight months?” he muttered unsurely.

  Sil already loved her, and he thought he was going to love all the animals. Animals were easier than people. They didn’t complain, and their needs were simple.

  “Since you’re here,” André broke into his thoughts, “would you like to help the twins with chicken chores. I know they’d love to get out of it.”

  “Sure,” Sil declared without hesitation. He scanned the yard, staring toward the far side of the fenced yard. There were a few trees on the property, mostly oaks from what he could tell, but they were mostly at the far side of the yard where the fence ended and a small planted forest marked the end of the land. From the thick trunked oak, a wide swing swayed under a low branch.

  Sil only spotted it because he could sense in the Realm that a Shadow was over there hiding. “Hey… can I have a minute?” he asked, still petting Mango vigorously.

  André gave a nod and stepped to the backdoor, noticing how his wife gazed at their eldest son through the glass. Sil rose and let Mango prance about his ankles, following him along to the swing. Dodging muddy spots along the way, he made out the shape of Emilie’s shadow under the wood of the swing, which seemingly swayed of its own free will.

  Nonchalantly, he wobbled the ropes, and nudged her shoulder even though she remained invisible. “You okay?”

  She blinked out of the Realm like a flame and grimaced, moving over for him to join her. Only one foot touched the ground, but she didn’t need it to manipulate gravity to move the swing. Their shoulders nestled against each other naturally, and Sil quickly discovered how cold she was. No coat, no sturdy shoes, just a gray jacket from the ASH, bland and useless.

  “I’m freaking out, okay,” she admitted suddenly. “I mean, I’m happy for you. You got your family! But I’m going to have to go meet mine, and I don’t know what’s going to happen!”

  “Don’t be scared,” he assured, taking her hand in his own securely. “I was just as freaked out as you are, but it’s going to be okay. Trust me.”

  She leaned against his shoulder, hiding her fear but clinging to him. “I don’t really care what people think of us as Shadows. I know who I am, as you know who you are.”

  Breathing deeply, Sil pushed the swing, letting go of his anxiety. “Who am I?” he asked the wind. “I don’t know if I feel acceptance or release. I’ve been accepted into my family as one of them, but still I feel like I’m leaving something behind.” He waited a moment for her to meet his gaze. “Leaving behind my real home, the Shadows, and you.”

  Emilie hummed. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care where my mom lives, or if you think I’m too loud, I’ll always be here.” She rose a little, wanting to fly away. “But things are changing. The ASH was never my home. It’s the Shadows who are my home, and not even my blood can change that.” She nudged his shoulder playfully. “You’re changing too, and I think I like it.”

  Sil fell silent for a moment and contemplated as if waiting for Emilie to continue but when she let the silence flourish, he vanished into the Realm. Emilie still felt him near, holding her hand, her head supported on his shoulder, and it took no other prompt for her to follow.

  While sitting on a ghostly version of the swing which glowed with white smoke in the dark world, she sat up and leaned away from him. He rose and began to walk away leisurely. In the Realm, his icy form sparkled in the dark, and he couldn’t feel his long white hair dangling over his shoulder, just what felt like a huge snowflake mounted on his head.

  Are you upset? she asked through his thoughts.

  Sil’s form emanated the cold frustration Emilie was always so used to. I’m beginning to question if the Recluse Shadow actually died, or if something very bad happened to him.

  Emilie put her luminous, light yellow hands on her hips. She really was like a star in the Realm, and she glowed like one as well. You do? she asked through the Realm.

  Do I what?

  Emilie chuckled, a sound similar to the wind blowing through trees. We’re in the Realm. I hear everything you’re thinking. You like me, don’t you?

  Sil sputtered a moment disbelieving she had actually asked that. I think you spend way too much time in here. You see
m to like a part of me, and I don’t think it’s good for you…

  In the Realm, it was easier to be honest. Emilie gazed off into the emptiness. I like you for you, all your quirks and bad behaviors. She mused, joking a bit then she waited a moment, thinking to herself, but why does that seem so hard for you?

  Sil’s icy form shimmered and rippled in the dark. He came a little closer to her floating in the Realm. Do you love me?

  Emilie turned her head quickly to him. What? She had heard perfectly fine; she just didn’t comprehend his question.

  Do you trust me? he continued. Don’t worry about tomorrow, think about today.

  Emilie frowned. What do you mean? “Do I love you?” “Do I trust you?” What do you want me to do?

  Sil stretched his icy Shadow, surrounding himself and Emilie with ice. He came very close to her then scooped her up in his arms. Give me your Shadow. He said slowly and kindly, remembering what Mark had done to him and how everything in his power was entrusted to Mark.

  What? she said quietly in his arms.

  Do you trust me? he said again.

  Emilie hesitated, then she placed a glowing hand at her heart and took her Shadow in her luminous fingers, yes, she said surely. She gave him the Shadow and they flew into the sky though the Realm. Drifting off into their freedom, Sil felt his new ties holding him back, but he knew Emilie, she needed this.

  XXIII

  ONLY ASHES REMAIN

  A scowl brushed itself across Mark’s face like every line drawn onto paper. Waiting for Gary to come online was going to drive him nuts. He needed to get away from the TV. The Realm and the sounds coming from it rang in his ears making it difficult for him to concentrate.

  He didn’t want to concentrate, he wanted to relax, to come to grips with his thoughts but he could hear every Shadow within a three-mile radius of his home. His mind wandered to the shattered laptop that was buried in his closet, wishing he could sink into playing games online with Gary, yet it somehow didn’t seem right.

  Whatever sleep he had gotten last night had left him with an image in his head, like a calming fantasy to help him understand his new reality but getting it on paper to see it again was proving difficult. It was a younger version of himself, something of an alternate universe.

  The child had long, out grown, lank hair about his shoulders. He reached upward into the air and fire came from his hands. In his dream, he thought it had been him, but now that he thought of it, he knew it wasn’t. The dream was his imagination creating the Recluse while he wrestled with his questions about who he could possibly be.

  The graphite didn’t seem to be agreeing with him. It had been a long time since he had tried to produce a half-decent drawing. The shading was weird, so was the anatomy of the figure, and he drew the boy standing up to a cherry tree with a burning hand and pointed elf ears longer than any Shadow he’d met so far.

  Now he was just getting silly, adding ridiculous things to the drawing. He blew his bangs out of his face, but the red strike fell between his eyes, and he tried to brush it over his head and back into his obsidian ocean.

  He pulled what little obedient hair he had behind his ears, touching the ends lightly. He compared his drawing to the shape he felt but then remembered. He had those pointed ears too, subtle and hidden under his wild black hair but the sign had always been there.

  Nearly knocking over his desk chair, he burst to his feet and ran over to the mirror by his bed. Shadows had pointed ears. Surely before his crimson eyes, his ears both curved to a dull point. “How could I not have noticed this before?” he breathed.

  He ran out of his room, bolting down the hallway to find his mother in the kitchen getting dinner ready. “Mom!” his voice cracked, and she eyed him, afraid of the look of desperation on Mark’s face.

  “Are you okay?” she asked worriedly, setting her preparations to make sure nothing was wrong.

  Hastily, Mark brushed his ebony black hair behind his ears with shaky fingers, exposing his pointed ears. “Please don’t tell me you knew about this?” he demanded shocked.

  His mother flustered a little getting a good look at them, but she merely stammered, astonished by his reaction. “You’re saying you didn’t?”

  Mark’s heart dropped hearing this. “Shadows have pointed ears! You would have known about this. So, if you knew I was a Shadow, why wouldn’t you tell me?” Disbelief rippled through his limbs. Somehow his Shadow must have hidden it from him until after he discovered he was a Shadow, but how was it even possible to hide his own body part from him?

  Marissa brushed a finger under her chin nervously. “You know why. Shadows are taken away at birth, why would I want to be sure it was true?”

  Mark shook his head denying it all. “You were pretty quick to get rid of me when you did know for sure.” He took a step closer. “Why? Why did you call the ASH?”

  She faltered, trying to come up with some sort of excuse. “Everything changed…” she whispered, fighting herself, “I saw you use the Realm back in February. I was afraid something was wrong with you, and Shadows were to blame.”

  Mark’s mind scrambled for some kind of explanation for this. February, what had happened in February? Just before he went to the ASH, Marissa had said she found him on the floor with tachycardia, an increased heart rate. He pressed his lips together. “What happened?” he found himself saying aloud.

  Crossing her arms, Marissa stepped back into the kitchen, with a drawn brow. “Nine months ago, I thought you were having a heart attack. You have no history of heart issues at all. I thought you were dying. And by the time your father called an ambulance, your heart rate was getting back down to normal and you were exhausted.”

  Mark quivered, finding himself pinching his arm. Nine months ago… the Recluse died. Was there any connection? He had no memory of the event, probably because of the intense stress. He couldn’t even remember being in the hospital.

  Why did it feel like he had some connection to the Recluse when he had never met him? The dying Shadow looked just like him except for bright red hair. He could pass through the ASI just like the Recluse could, and when the Recluse died, Mark’s heart had started racing. It was as if he had some distant connection with the Recluse’s heart his Shadow had only felt once. Maybe it was his Shadow that connected them, maybe Shadow Fire had belonged to the Recluse, and when he died it had come to Mark. Was that possible? It couldn’t be. He had been born with Shadow Fire, right?

  He pressed his lips together, irritated. “What are you hiding from me?”

  Marissa leaned against the counter and closed her eyes, inhaling her senses to deal with this. She frowned. “Why do you assume I’m hiding something from you?”

  “Because you know more about Shadows than I do!” Mark yelled, slamming his hands on the other side of the counter. “Are you a Shadow?” he demanded.

  Becoming stern, Marissa frowned. “You’re in no place to give me that tone. If I was a Shadow, why would I even think to call the ASH.”

  “I’m still trying to figure that out,” Mark seethed under his breath.

  “We’ll deal with this as a family when your father gets back. You’re just going to have to wait!” Returning to preparing dinner, she dismissed him. “You really should get back to school soon after missing a whole week…” she mumbled, rambling off as Mark left the room. He grumbled because he knew his dad would never confront an issue head on.

  Marissa paused as soon as he was gone and frowned deeply to herself, maybe now that he was a Shadow, it wasn’t right to keep it from him. She didn’t know. That was the truth. She didn’t know how to deal with this and she wanted to fall back on her husband before ever speaking to Mark about it. He didn’t need something like that thrown on top of everything he had been through this week.

  Supporting herself on the counter, she rubbed her face, stressing over it. Giving in, she clenched her fists and retrieved her cell phone from her pocket. It had been too long since she had spoken to her husband. Eve
ry day January was away made Marissa worry, but she would sacrifice for whatever paid the bills, and if work called January away for two weeks, she could accept that. But this was too much for her.

  “Hello, this is January Halo,” his voice came, filling Marissa with hope even though she still missed him dearly. He hadn’t even checked the caller ID, answering his phone mindlessly as usual.

  “Hey, Jan, it’s Isa. How are things doing over there?” she asked trying to sound truly happy to hear his voice, because despite being heavy laden with the Shadows, she was happy.

  “Fine,” he muttered sounding like he was moving about wherever he was, in a hotel or eating somewhere by himself. “How about you and the kids?” he asked in a tone of mediocrity, unbeknownst to the wild troubles they had been through. Marissa didn’t answer for some time, not sure how to tell him, but he broke into her thoughts. “Is something wrong, Isa?” His worry carried through the line.

  Marissa bit her lip, ripping off some skin through her anxiety. “I don’t know how to—” she stopped, her voice cracking and tears flowing against her will.

  “Isa?” January’s voice panicked. “What happened?” he asked with every vibe of his voice longing to hold her and comfort her.

  Marissa supported herself on the counter trying to hold back the tears. “I don’t know how to tell Mark the truth and not hurt him or if I even should.”

  It was likely that January sat down or acquired somewhere private to hold their conversation. “You’re not making any sense. What’s going on with Mark?”

  Marissa tried to compose herself and sat at the island counter, resolving to just spit it out. “Mark is a Shadow. After all we feared, he’s a Shadow!”

  Silence rung on the other line for a long minute as January was left speechless. A long sigh of disappointed blew against the mouthpiece of January’s phone. “You need me to come home?” he asked, offering. “I can leave a few days early. You need me there…”

  Marissa didn’t want to force him to come back early, but she needed him. “Mark’s trying to find out what happened… why we always feared he was a Shadow… Should we tell him the truth? I don’t even know…”