Shadowed

by Tara Jadestone

  “This way,” he urged.

  My legs seized with a sudden pain and I gasped. The pain subsided but now my legs had a mind of their own and they followed after him. I gritted my teeth in frustration but decided the least I could do was to use what few liberties I possessed with the Shadow Reaper present to find out what was going on.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  He grinned. “Oh, let us just say you have been here before.”

  As we approached, we passed decimated homes and burned crop fields. I swallowed hard at the sight. What happened here? We stopped as I caught sight of a familiar cottage– or what should have been one. The windows, doors and walls caved in, the wood framed broken and charred.

  The only thing I could properly see through the smoke was a steel cellar door, pulled open, and forgotten.

  I froze, now remembering what it was: the home Selenah and I had grown up in Brassion– the home we had escaped months ago from the Dark Mages.

  With control over my legs again, I ran in through the singed wreck and found its contents in ashes. A breeze blew by and the stench of decaying and burned flesh filled my nose. I gagged at the smell and covered my mouth with the back of my hand. Just in front of me, in a pile of coal-filled embers and black rags, was a hand. The silver ring upon its finger glittered. Scrawled upon the ring were both Selenah and my own name. Not far from that lay another pile of cinder, but much larger and there lay a foot, still wearing its boot. Only Father wore patched leather and goat-hide boots from his northern traders like that one. The thought of them both gone like this made my eyes water, but no tears fell.

  I raced out of the cottage and took deep breaths, the tinge of smoke that still lingered in the air burning my throat. The sight of my dead parents reemerged in my head and I retched, but nothing came up.

  “Had enough yet?” the Shadow Reaper asked, coming from behind me.

  I spat into the cracked earth, refusing to look at him directly and I remained bent over.

  “Home sweet home is it not?” There was a hint of pleasure in his voice, and it made my skin prickle. “I know they must have treated you terribly,” he added, now facing the burned cottage, his hands clenched at his side. He turned back to face me. “So this is my most recent favor to you, Melanie. I say they deserved it. Do you not agree?”

  I felt my stomach drop and my breathing falter. So he killed them because of me? From the hatred I had for my parents and this town that chose Selenah over me, had I cost everyone here their lives? I gripped my forearms in an attempt to stop shaking. I was responsible for all these murders.

  The Shadow Reaper smiled, taking another step closer to me. “You know, I like the sight of you in terror, fearing the worst. It makes me feel good inside,” he whispered in my ear. I swallowed hard, too terrified to say anything. “Because I know it is me who controls you.”

  Hearing that, I turned to face him and glared into his piercing green eyes. All I wanted to do was punch him, make him suffer for what he did– not only for killing my parents but also for killing the innocent families of all those who lived here, too, even if they had bullied me. They did not deserve to die for it.

  “You monster,” I spat.

  “I have been called much worse,” he said with a glint in his eye. My jaw twitched.

  “You will never become King.”

  “Oh, I will,” he replied, cocking his head to the side. “And I will do so with your help.”

  I lifted my head in determination. “No, you will not.

  I refuse to be like Mhellany and turn against my own sister.”

  “Is that so? Last I remember, you had wished you were not sisters with her.”

  My eyes widened. How does he know I said that?

  “See? You are already like Mhellany, but you refuse to accept it. But this time, Melanie, I swear I will succeed.” He paused for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “Whether you believe it or not.”

  The Shadow Reaper’s face was now inches from my own and I could feel the coldness of his eyes boring into mine. I tried to remain calm and fearless, but his gaze sent shivers down my spine. His lips silently moved and before I could realize what was happening, there I felt a sudden burning in my chest. I gasped and gripped the left side of my ribcage. He smiled down at me and I felt my heart begin to pound wildly– as if there were two hearts beating. The pain continued to sear through me and I winced, finding it impossible for me to move away from him now that I was under his spell.

  “It is truly amazing how you are just like her, Melanie.” His voice surprised me by its softness. “Your hair,” he whispered. He ran his long, slender fingers through them, sending cold tendrils down my spine. “Your eyes, your lips…” As he drew closer, I tried to move away, the chill emanating from his body felt like something surreal, encompassing my entire body. “There is only one thing missing….”

  His head whipped back at the sound of hoofbeats rushing towards us. Without his fierce gaze and full attention, my chest no longer burned and I was able to move again.

  I stumbled back. But before I could take the free moment to make my escape, the Shadow Reaper grabbed my arm and pulled me in front of him. Two horses came to view, dark bays that I had seen before in the Solstice stables.

  I saw the glittering armor, sword, and shield that belonged to a Royal Guard. The other rider was the new recruit who had defeated Selenah in the arena.

  The Shadow Reaper retrieved a dagger and put it to my throat as the two neared. I flinched as the blade pressed against my skin. The Royal Guard jumped off his horse, approaching us slowly. The second rider did the same.

  “Let her go.” The Royal Guard’s voice was muffled under the helmet, but I could immediately tell it was Tiran. “Please.”

  “Please?” the Shadow Reaper scoffed. “Now, that is a first.”

  “I will do what is necessary to ensure her safety,” Tiran replied.

  My mind raced. There was no way Tiran and his companion could defeat the Shadow Reaper. Only Selenah could do that, and she was far from here.

  “If I asked for your life, or the life of your Archduke, to return her safely, would you comply?”

  Archduke? The recruit was Owen? What is he doing here?

  Tiran stiffened. I shut my eyes. Surely, he did not think his, or Owen’s, life was worth my freedom?

  “I would.”

  Tiran whirled around to look at Owen and I opened my eyes, widened with shock.

  “No,” Tiran gasped. “It could be a–”

  “Yes,” the Shadow Reaper said, his eyes trained on Owen.

  The dagger in his hand flicked forward and it made contact with Owen’s chest with a thud. My heart lurched at the sound. Owen staggered back before falling to his knees.

  “No!” I screamed and I instinctively tilted forward. Behind me, I heard the Shadow Reaper laugh, and he vanished into black smoke. I stumbled forward before running over to Tiran and Owen.

  Tiran unclasped Owen’s armor and took out the dagger. I knelt down beside Owen and took off his helmet. I dared not look at his chest, where his shirt was now soaked in blood. I gazed down at his face, my eyes watering. He gazed up at me, grimacing in pain.

  “What you did was stupid,” I said, sniffling. “Why did you risk your life for me?”

  “Because…I was always your friend,” he whispered.

  I stared at him, horrified at myself. Were my actions so callous that it made him think the only way we could be friends was by risking his own life? I looked away from him. I knew I would not have done something like this for him had the situation been turned.

  I looked over at Tiran and watched him close his eyes. He put his hand over Owen’s wound, and mutter something under his breath. Owen’s chest glowed for a moment before Tiran opened his eyes.

  “We need to take him back to the Palace,” Tiran said, putting on his helmet. “He will survive if we have him carefully treated. Mel, get on his horse, we need to hurry. My magic is not strong eno
ugh to take us all to the Palace together.”

  I nodded, mounting Owen’s horse as quickly as I could. Tiran whistled, and the horse lurched forward into a gallop. I clenched the reins in my hands and looked behind me. Tiran was gone, as was Owen, and the second horse.

  The sky darkened rapidly as I rode. By the time I entered the Palace gates, the sky was a dusky blue and the horse drenched in sweat. My maids greeted me as I dismounted. Two Palace Guards came to take the horse back to the stable.

  “Where is Owen?” I asked at once, feeling anxious. “And Tiran?” They looked at each other and took me to the Infirmary.

  There, nurses and physicians rushed about, tending to Owen. Tiran called out orders on how to treat him; it was the first time I heard him raise his voice. I made my way over to Owen’s side. He looked paler and several cooling cloths lay on his forehead. The sight filled me with fresh guilt.

  “Mel,” I heard Tiran say. “You should not be here.”

  I looked up at him and I could not help but feel angry. “And where should I be, then? Sewing with Lady Yael?”

  “No, you should not be here when–”

  Just then, something shimmered. The air beside Tiran sparkled and hazed to form what looked like a floating mirror. Its reflection was not ours, but of Selenah’s.

  “What happened?” I heard her ask. “Why is the Archduke in the Infirmary?” she nearly screamed at us. Beside her, Prince Gareth looked helplessly at his cousin.

  “The Shadow Reaper attacked, your Ladyship,” Tiran answered formally, giving me a cursory glance. “He had Mel– the Duchess and the Archduke risked his life to ensure her safety.”

  “Did the magic barrier not hold?” Selenah asked, eyebrows raised. “The Shadow Reaper could not have entered the Palace grounds.”

  Tiran turned away from the mirror slightly, taking a deep breath. “I am afraid this happened outside the Palace walls.”

  “What?” Selenah’s eyes were now fixed on me. Prince Gareth put a hand to her arm as he spoke.

  “Can you heal him?” he asked. “That is all that matters.”

  “We believe so, Your Highness,” Tiran stated. “But there is much we will need–”

  A loud, echoing roar behind Selenah and the Prince cut off Tiran’s words. I glanced up at them, eyes wide. What was that? The Prince clenched the hilt of his sword but did not do anything further.

  “Guard Tiran, Captain Connor will arrive shortly. He will have what is needed to help the Archduke,” Selenah said quickly. The mirror instantly dissolved after she spoke.

  As the last remnants of magic faded away, we heard a clatter of hooves from outside. Within minutes, Connor raced up in full battle attire with a vial in one hand.

  “Pour this on his wound,” he said, handing the bottle of red liquid to Tiran. “He will heal just as fast as her Ladyship does. Once done, leave him be and gather as many Royal Guards as you can.”

  “What is going on?” Tiran asked, accepting the small vial.

  “Mythical dragons have been reported across the Kingdom, burning everything in sight,” he answered. Connor glanced at me and added in a low voice, “An entire town was destroyed within the hour.” I felt bile rise in my throat. The Shadow Reaper used dragons to destroy Brassion.

  “What of her Ladyship?”

  “The King advised that she and the Prince are not to be involved. Only the Royal Guards are to deal with this.” As he spoke, white feathery wings appeared on his back. “So, bring as much reinforcements as possible.” With some flaps, Connor was airborne and out of the Palace in seconds.

  We all stared, awestruck at his display of magic.

  “Mel.” I turned to face Tiran. “Take this and have the physicians administer it.” He handed me the vial. “I must go.”

  “Where? I want to go as well.”

  “No, it is far too dangerous. The Shadow Reaper may wish to take you hostage once more.”

  “But–”

  “There is no time to argue. Please listen to me. You should be safe from the attacks as long as you stay here, and I need you to watch over the Archduke, alright?” He briefly laid a firm hand on my shoulder and left without another word.

  Despite it being from Selenah, the physicians refused to use the unknown liquid, and the nurses shook their heads, no matter how hard I pleaded for them to use it upon Owen. I heard them whisper amongst themselves that there was nothing that could save a man from a chest wound like his.

  Taking the task upon myself, I trembled as I uncorked the bottle and poured the red liquid over Owen’s open chest. Afterward, my maids ushered me away from the Infirmary. They helped me undress and prepared me for a bath as I was too disturbed to tell them otherwise.

  I had supper by myself. The emptiness was unbearable.

  I desperately wished for Tiran’s presence, watching him tell stories using his magic, and how he made everything normal again between Owen and me. I wondered what he must have felt, seeing me under the Shadow Reaper’s grip after I rejected the idea of any friendship between us. How could he possibly give his life, knowing that I despised him for being Selenah’s puppet?

  It rained heavily that night as lightning brightened the sky. I could even hear distant, draconic roars. The guilt I felt was too excruciating to bear.

  The memories of Mother’s hand…Father’s foot…the whole of Brassion gone…. All of it kept me from falling asleep. Instead, I wept, hour after hour. I do not want to be responsible for so many deaths and yet…

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A DIFFERENT BATTLE

  I woke up the next morning a little after the sun rose. My maids, who had learned dutifulness from Lady Yael, woke up groggily to assist me. I turned their help down, saying it was too early for them to be awake. But they insisted and eventually, rose to start their day. As I walked down the halls to have my breakfast, there was a commotion coming from the Infirmary. Knowing that Owen was still hurt and on the verge of death, I rushed over.

  “I believe he has passed,” one of the physicians told the other. He had two fingers on Owen’s throat and wrist. My heart hammered in my chest as the seconds went by without any further objections. Their shoulders fell and the turned away with forlorn expressions.

  “Owen cannot be dead,” I whispered to myself, watching the two physicians walk away. Selenah said Owen would heal.

  I walked over to his bedside and knelt, taking his hand in mine. It was warm.

  “Mistress, we need to prepare him for his death rites,” a nurse said, approaching me.

  “No,” I shook my head, tears pricking at my eyes. “He is not dead.” I gripped onto his hand and brought it to my lips. “He is not dead,” I whispered. I had knowingly left the Solstice Palace without so much a second thought about the consequences. I pressed his hand to my forehead and refused to get up.

  I was not going to accept it. He did not deserve to die. Not for someone as useless as me.

  I was foolish to believe that Owen did not deserve a second chance. He made the mistake of trying to reason with me. And now he was going to pay for it with his life.

  “Come, you must eat now, Mistress,” Yana begged after she and the other two had arrived. “Please!”

  I ignored her. If I got up, the nurses would take him away. How distraught his parents would be when they learn their son died to save someone like me! And the King. How will he punish me for killing his nephew?

  I looked up at Owen’s still face, feeling my chest ache from the thought of him never smiling or speaking again.

  At last, I brought myself to let him go.

  I called over one of the nurses and asked for some paper and ink. There was a tradition among some towns to write letters to their deceased and have it placed in their coffin. Although it was expected from only family members, as Owen’s friend, I, too, would be allowed to have my last words buried with him. With quill in hand, I sank to the floor at Owen’s bedside and placed the paper on the wooden chair my maids had brought for me earlie
r.

  My hand hovered over the paper, not knowing how to start. I did not know many people, let alone be close enough to partake in their death rites.

  I took a deep breath and glanced at Owen for help. In the sunlight, he seemed only to be asleep; his previous pale skin was flushed with color and his face was calm.

  To Owen,

  When we spent our first days together, I doubted your intentions towards me. But you earned my favor and I realized, when you were sitting at my side during Prince Gareth’s banquet, that I had a friend.

  I never knew what it was like to have a real friend before, so I was heartbroken when Selenah came between us. I pushed you away to protect myself– you cannot lose something you never had. So, yes, I admit, it was selfish of me to never have considered your feelings or given you the chance you deserved. And now we will never have that chance.

  You are kind to all you meet and even show justice to those who have wronged you. Like me.

  The sound of your voice and the memory of your smile haunts me as I write this, for it is I who took it away from the world. Will you forgive me? Should I even be forgiven?

  My hands moved so fast as the words poured out of me. By the end, as I was writing, somehow, I lost grip on the quill and its tip pricked my finger. I let go of it, shaking my hand from the stinging pain. I looked down at the letter I had written and sighed, knowing it was nothing compared to what his family might write for him.

  I turned to look back at Owen.

  I leaned over the bed and lightly placed my fingers over the scar on his chest. The physicians had stitched it up last night and all that was left was a dark red-pink streak. Perhaps Selenah’s magic cannot save everything after all.

  “Owen I would do anything to have you smile again,”

  I whispered. “If not to me, then to someone who is more deserving of it.” I pulled my hand back and realized then that the prick in my finger had been bleeding. My eyes widened when I looked back to see that some of my blood had fallen onto the stitching on Owen’s chest.