The Shadow
Book III of the Chosen Shine Saga
Chapter 1
The Mural
“What is this? An ancient device?”
The young man’s voice echoed within the canyon, addressing no one and receiving no response. Close to the edge of a cliff, he had knelt upon finding an unfamiliar construct. Nothing in any books or documents had ever shown him such a thing, and it interested him to the point that the rest of the world ceased to exist. He was aware of how close he was to falling into the canyon below, but his eyes only had room for this mysterious piece of equipment.
His feet planted, the young man reached down to touch the device. It was metal, or seemingly so, but nothing like anything he had ever touched or felt. Not that he was used to feeling much of anything. His entire life had been a giant prison inside a castle until he was sent off to battle the great King of the Dark. Books and his own personal Guardian had been his only friends.
Part of him preferred it that way, as it meant he could study many things in depth.
The other part of him hated the ostracization that was part and parcel of the deal.
Thanks to that, Lumen could say that the last couple months had been some of the most wild and freeing months of his life. The strange item in his hand was further proof of it.
Pulling his brown traveling cloak tighter around his body, Lumen sat cross-legged on the dusty canyon ridge, looking out over the deep gorge that was known as the O’Della Canyon. If he strained his ears enough, he knew he would be able to hear the crashing waterfalls of the Seaman’s Trough to the north, from whence he had come. Lumen’s gaze, however, was directed southward, across the obscured and impossible-to-cross canyon pass that led to the unknown lands of Gladius.
Discerning not a thing through the dust that concealed the south, the young royal turned his eyes upon the device held in his hands, holding it up to the bleak sun overhead.
“It seems to spin…” he spoke to himself. His voice echoed back to him as he spun the device on its own axis. That didn’t worry him; Lumen was quite used to speaking to himself, finding the comforts of his own voice to be his best companion through the years. Not that he hadn’t found other companions, he realized. That made him lower the spinning artifact. “I wonder where they are…”
This wonder was quieter, producing not a single echo. His doubts and worry brought his hands together, clasping the device between them. Terrill. Charles. He worried for them both, as he had not seen a single one of them since landing in this place, a place he’d been told was called “Adversa”, the land of the ethereal soul. Out of everything in his life, that was ironically the easiest thing to believe. Believing that his companions were okay was a taller order, but there was more on his mind than wherever they were or what they were doing.
His self-imposed mission was more important.
“The Wind Fortres…ah, a fan?!” Lumen once more held the device up, brushing his long blond hair behind his head. His traveling cloak slipped, exposing his dirtied collar. Still, his clothes bore the royal insignia of Sayn, but they were now muddied and torn in places, reflecting the fights and adventure he’d had since he came to Adversa. There was no doubt his cousins would hate him for daring to have so much fun. If “fun” was the right word. He wasn’t all that sure, but was nevertheless preoccupied by his current search and the piece of what he presumed to be a fan. He spun the artifact, a frown coming to his face. “Not a fan, but a mechanism for doors, maybe? It must be connected somehow…”
Puzzling it out, Lumen set the item down and dug into his pack for food. It had been a couple weeks already since he’d departed Valorda for the canyon and crossed the perilous Trough. Now, his food stores were starting to run a little low. Only having to take care of himself made it easy, and Charles had taught him well, but there was no doubt he’d have to give up his fruitless search if he didn’t find something more substantial soon. Lumen bit into a stale piece of bread, blanching at the taste, but swallowing all the same.
“It had to come from somewhere…” Lumen’s foot tapped, surveying all aspects of the impassable, dusty ravine. Nothing on the other side gave any indication, and nor did the red ground at his feet. Tilting upwards, there still was no sign of a hidden grotto or construction site where such a pass would exist. That left just one direction: below.
Deciding that break time was over, Lumen stood with a stretch and snatched the device from the ground. His pack came back upon his shoulders, bouncing with the shield that he hung there, while he fastened his sword on his waist. With careful ease, Lumen approached the edge of the cliff and peered down the different levels of the O’Della Canyon. These looked no different at first glance, but Lumen was not to be deterred.
An idea came to him, something from one of the many books he’d read in the castle. The young royal backed up, gathering what dust he could and then tossing it over the edge. It was as much a random shot as anything he had been trying the last few days, and the winds passing through the canyon made said shot even longer. Still, Lumen watched, hoping he’d have some clue for how to progress. He watched the dust flutter down with the sunlight.
That was when he saw it. A minor movement at first, but soon some of the dust changed direction inward. Like it had somewhere else to flow to, it was directed by the wind that stirred the air. Lumen grinned, and with some effort, tied his hair back before he started to scale downwards for where he’d seen the dust disappear.
That was a mistake. For all of his training, Lumen was not that adept at most things physical, and after only a couple grips, his fingers slid on the rock. He milled his arms, trying to regain balance, only to fail as another chunk of stone broke off. His body fell, the weight of his pack and shield pulling him faster than he hoped. It wasn’t a long drop, to his relief, but it didn’t stop the shiver up his spine when he landed on his pack the next shelf down. Lumen began to breathe, and then he heard the cracking noise. His eyes blinked and he glanced over to the fissure in the rock wall, and a deeper, darker space just behind it. Without caution, Lumen reached over to touch it.
It split wide open.
“Ahhh!” The scream tore from his lips before he registered what was happening. His body was sucked into the fissure, falling into the darkness within the depths of the cavern. Stones crumbled with him, and on instinct, Lumen drew his shield out to protect himself from the concussive force.
The walls he slid down were jagged, but prevented him from entering a freefall. They cut at his cloak and his other clothes, many nicks and bruises appearing along his arms and face until, finally, he tumbled to a stop. The dust came with him and Lumen coughed, the taste of earth on his tongue a most unpleasant one. Using his shield for support, Lumen stood but stumbled into a wall, unable to see anything. He waited to try anything until his back was against the nearest wall. It was rough around the edges, but helped him regain control over his impossible-to-discern surroundings.
There was only one way to know more.
“Beacon.” With the snap of a finger, energy coursed through Lumen’s veins to be held within his hands as an inviting orb of light. Light Magic, or so he was told by some people when he had shown it in Adversa. It was a rudimentary spell, at best, but like his books and Charles, the ability to create light gave him some hope in those dark castle halls. He had never known what it was, and for the longest time believed it was the reason his cousins hated him so, but still, he enjoyed it. Being aware of what it was made it an even-more faithful companion.
To that end, Lumen lifted the orb higher, letting its light splash upon the walls of the cavern. It was a tight space, to be sure, but one that seemed to empty into a larger hall. Looking back, Lumen examined the jagged fall he had taken, realizing the ascent upward was made of crude and treacherous steps, likely to allow allies in while warding off or weakening intruders. It wasn’t the level of the device he had found, but Lumen found it to be evidence of, at the very least, a rather ingenious civilization.
Excited to learn more, Lumen faced the direction of the larger hall and squeezed his way through the stone passageway. Soon, he emerged, stumbling into a cavernous space made of stone and metal. Or, Lumen presumed it was metal from the way parts of the surface shined when he turned his light upon it. A door at the side indicated that more of that metal stretched outwards. Lumen approached that door, and as he got closer, he realized it was broken, a mechanism that kept the door locked in place missing.
“Ah!” His realization caused him to hold the spinning item up and slot it into place. It wouldn’t hold, the weathering of time having taken its toll on what he’d found. It served as a fancy lock nonetheless. Lumen’s heart raced as he peered into the tunnel of metal, or whatever the substance was, and noticed it sloped downward, as though passing deep underneath the canyon, itself. “What secrets are you hiding?”
Lumen ached to step into it, but his feet slipped beneath him, his lack of coordination never failing to trip him up. He caught himself on the doorframe, chuckling beneath his breath; Charles had trained him in a fight, yet he couldn’t stay balanced outside of one. He always endeavored to try, though, and Lumen pulled himself up until the light of his hands shined upon something else in the cavernous grand hall.
A mural stretched itself along the circular hall, drawn by an expert artist, if in an abstract fashion. There were no words or realistic shapes, but what looked like a chronicling of history encircling the cavern. Fascinated by the history, Lumen turned his head in an attempt to find the start of it, eventually landing on a drawing of farmers working fields, and a giant green light that shined above their heads. He had no clue what it could mean, but he was more taken by what came next, even if there was a blank canvas waiting at the end.
The green light illustrated a blessing of sorts as Lumen circled the hall, letting this tribe grow into greatness. Then, there appeared to be a cataclysm of sorts, as the artist had painted something jagged splitting the picture in two, or perhaps it had been painted over as such. In either case, the artwork changed, becoming more refined. Instead of praising this mysterious green light for the bounties on the land, it instead began to be covered up by steelwork, becoming a fortress, lost to the fading properties of the mural.
Then, as Lumen reached the end, he was stopped short by the penultimate image in the series. “A shadow…”
Lumen raised his hand, touching to the inky surface of the wall. It had been dried on already, lost to the ages since this had last been recorded for posterity. Yet Lumen could still feel its malice through the paint. A creature with no thought or purpose other than destruction, leaving a great wound upon the world that could never be healed from. It was a gaping gash upon the world and its flow, or so Lumen interpreted. Just a bundle of malevolence and regret that ripped the world wide.
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“Was this…history? Or a prediction of the future?” Lumen questioned, his fingers itching to rip the shadow apart and claw it away from the stone. Even if his fingers bled, being near a mere picture of this was enough to make him retch, and he chose instead to look at the final picture.
Funnily enough, Lumen wondered if this was actually the first picture of the set, despite the blank pieces that came after. The only thing that may have disputed that theory was the fantastic style of art painted on the canvas. Not quite the abstract figures painted previous, it showed a rather burdened woman bleeding six lights. To anyone who was not devout, or had no knowledge of scripture, it would have been seen as pretty artwork and nothing more, but Lumen knew better.
“Crea…” he breathed. He would notice a depiction of the goddess anywhere. Thankfully, the painting was still fully intact, and it showed the flow of white that circulated between her and these six lights, maintaining a balance and order. “The world’s flow, as dictated by scripture…”
He couldn’t know how true it was, or if his interpretation was wildly off the mark, but Lumen knew all too well about that which the church in Sayn taught. Crea created a flow that stretched through time immemorial, and in time, it would lead to the same place, as all souls did. This spoiled Lumen’s good mood at the discovery.
The growl from down a hall opposite him ruined it further. His investigation was incomplete, but there was little time to bemoan that. In a swift move, he drew his sword from his waist.
Apart from the growls, the first thing he heard was the padding of the paws on the stone. It bounced off the cavern walls, an ominous echo that alerted Lumen to the intruder. The alert was unneeded, as Lumen felt like he could smell the corroding flesh from there, wafting off in waves of darkness. Lumen’s left hand raised, the orb of light lifting off from his palm to hang in midair, while his right hand gripped tight to his sword. With the light hitting its apex, the fuller picture was revealed. A snarling monster emerged from the dark with drooling teeth. It looked similar to those kinds of monsters he had always seen in Sayn, and just as vicious. Lumen reached for his shield.
The creature jumped, claws outstretched and its teeth slobbering for a piece of its meal.
Lumen kept his balance, his eyes flashing as his training kicked in. His left arm lifted and, with a singular bash forward, struck the creature across the face. It flew back, landing on all fours and pouncing for him once again. This time, Lumen didn’t use his shield. He ducked and sent his sword upwards, slicing on the underbelly of the midair beast. It yowled and whimpered before the shield descended on its head, knocking it to the ground.
The poor beast’s legs scrabbled against the stone, trying to stand and escape, but Lumen didn’t suffer it to flee. His sword radiated with pure light, increasing its strength with the one consistent aspect of his magic. Then he plunged it down, and with a sudden gleam, the beast gave a sound of taut strings snapping before it burst into ashes, coating the already dusty cavern floor. Lumen blew out, his drooping bangs flying up. He straightened.
“I know you’re there, Atrum.”
His call was answered by the resonant footsteps from the hall. Lumen’s light dropped a little, and the boy’s face came into full relief. He looked haggard and wounded, his hair mussed up in all the wrong places. There was a scowl on his face, too. Looking closer, Lumen could see the resemblance that he didn’t want to.
“It’s good to see you’re still doing well, brother.”
“I’m not your brother.” Lumen felt no further threat, and he stowed his weaponry away with a huff. His arms folded, Lumen stared across the hall to the Shadow King. “Why do you keep saying that? Why do you keep bothering me? Don’t you have enough that you’re doing?”
“You’re just as involved, Lumen. You know that.”
“No, I don’t know that!” Lumen stomped his foot, not wishing to hear further from his former companion’s lips. He turned away, hand touching to the mural once again as he wished to appear fascinated. Perhaps, if he continued to ignore Atrum, the boy would disappear.
He didn’t, unfortunately, taking a place at Lumen’s side as they stared at the mural together.
“Is this why you’re chasing after fairy tales? You want to defy destiny?” Lumen ignored the query, swallowing in the silence. He tried to focus on the drawings presented before him, but his eyes weren’t really seeing them. “You’re wasting your time.”
“It’s not a waste!” Lumen snapped, but caught himself the second the words left his mouth. He hated this. Hated how it felt so familiar to talk with Atrum. Like an old friend, despite the fact they had only met each other for the first time recently. He wanted to resist that temptation to talk with him, but the craving for human contact, and that unspeakable connection to the one with the moniker of Shadow King made the words spill forth before he could stop himself. “It’s not a waste if just one life is saved! Not a waste if I can buy a little more peace!”
Atrum blinked, before a grimace crossed his face and he turned away, clasping at his side. He was absorbed in his own mind, pulling his shirt up to reveal a burn mark, but not from any kind of fire. Though, Lumen wasn’t sure he knew what that really looked like. The boy opposite him sighed. “You’re sounding just like Terrill.”
“Terrill?!” This got Lumen’s attention, and without thinking, he grabbed Atrum by the shoulders, wheeling him around so they faced each other. The light fell lower and Lumen stared intently into the deep darkness of Atrum’s eyes, the two of them holding their position while the royal casted his mind for what he really wanted to ask. “You’ve seen him?! What did you do to him?!”
“Why do you care? You’re off having your own adventures, and you barely even knew him!” Atrum brushed him away, his teeth grit. From anger or pain, Lumen could never guess, but he watched Atrum stride away from him, to the center of the hall.
“Maybe, but…we all traveled together, and losing both him and Charles…” Lumen shook his head, his hair flapping around. “He wasn’t supposed to be here.”
“Technically, none of you were supposed to be here. That was the point!” Atrum stamped the ground, and Lumen recoiled. He seemed more like a child with that move than the schemer he tried to present himself as. “Those who are Blessed, or rather, those who lack their Adversan counterpart running around will help rip this world’s destiny from its very foundations. When I first learned that, I hated the thought, and wished to defy it. I wanted Terrill to find you and leave this place but now…now there’s no changing fate unless we tear it to pieces…”
“Tearing fate apart…?” Lumen swallowed once more, feeling the ball that had formed in his throat. His fingers tightened upon his cloak, finding the holes present in it and twisting at the fabric. “Is that the reason for the war?” Atrum gave no answer. Lumen stepped forward, his hand reaching out to grab hold of the boy. “I won’t let it! Atrum, we both lived in Sayn, understood that oppression and we-”
Atrum slapped his hand away, not daring to make prolonged physical contact. The glare emanating from his eyes made Lumen step back. “It’s too late now. I believed I could defy the fate that clawed at me, but in the end, I was still just the pawn to play in his game. If that wasn’t proof, what is? This world’s destiny can’t be overridden. Not by finding the Wind Fortress. Not by… Nothing can but a shock to the system so large it tears Adversa apart! It’s the only way I’ll be free!”
Lumen took another step back, his insides crawling. His body trembled at the dark shadow leaking out of Atrum’s body, yet he still yearned to reach out. It was something inexplicable, and something he wanted to rebel against. Words came from his lips in a gasp. “Why are you here, Atrum? Why do you…keep coming after me?”
“Because we’re connected, brother.” Lumen flinched. “You can feel the pull on our souls, and you know the end you were intended for. That end has not changed. Throwing a stone in the river of fate cannot change its course.”
“And how would you…” Lumen started to shout, but his voice quieted as he gripped at his chest, “…how would you know what my fate is?”
“It is the fate of all Chosen Ones, isn’t it?” Lumen resisted the urge to wretch, and Atrum approached, his face nearing but never touching. “I know the truth, brother. I’ve seen it. The world’s flow.”
“I thought…you said you hadn’t,” Lumen choked out. There were tears coming to his eyes and a desire to grab Atrum. The hand on his chest fell and held fast to his other hand, shaking under his hold as he shook his head. “You don’t know what the prophecy is about! Even I never heard of its contents from Sayn!”
“But you do know why they locked you in that castle, don’t you? Chosen One, born but to die, all for the prosperity of Sayn.” Atrum retreated, looking rather weary, himself. “Or that’s one interpretation. Depending on where you start in the flow, you could get a different answer for the stepping stones along the way. The old man is the only one who’s probably seen it all, since he rides the flow from the very beginning. That’s why I’ve had to take care of the backend.”
“What are you talking about, Atrum?” Lumen couldn’t cease his trembling, but managed to draw his sword all the same. His body and mind screamed for him to not do it, to not scratch the being before him, but he didn’t want to hear any more. “What flow?”
“The flow of souls that circulates and perpetuates our entire world, my dear Chosen One.” His biting tone caused Lumen to grip so tightly to his sword, his hand was turning colors. “I don’t know what the future holds, not in full, but destiny is at hand. The old man wants to make sure it plays out, and will no doubt start moving against me, now that we’re forced to clash. I’ll have to start using the Fiends to move forward. Of course, Terrill is oblivious to it all, but I’m sure he’ll try to stand in the way. It doesn’t matter in the end, though. You can’t change fate with a few ripples. Is the Chosen One the Hero? Or are they two different people? I’m meant to clash with them, but Terrill has rejected me, ensuring we will clash, and it only proves what I’ve seen for the intended future.
“This world will break.”
“That’s not-”
“So, I’ll break it first. I’ll send fate spinning off its wheels.” Atrum whipped around, and his hand extended to Lumen. He wasn’t touching him yet, and Lumen knew that this eerie dark mirror was offering him a place. “Join with me, brother. It’s the only way to avoid what fate has in store for us. Let us foster despair, create the Shadow and bring peace!”
The offer hung in the air, and Lumen almost let his blade slip from his grasp. That declaration felt so consuming, and Lumen yearned to take it. To feel that companionship he had so longed for, as if it was a piece of him that had been cut out. He looked to Atrum’s eyes, and the madness therein. Lumen’s senses returned, his hand gripping further and backing up.
“No. I will not quarter war!” Lumen lifted his blade high, the disappointment creasing Atrum’s face while he did so. “I will not suffer another Sayn.”
“Heh. Ever the Chosen One.” The cavern suddenly shook, causing another grimace to appear upon Atrum’s face. Lumen had to wonder if something was coming, and if it had anything to do with the wound he had sustained. “The old man doesn’t give time to breathe anymore…”
“Atrum!” Lumen shouted, pulling the attention of the boy. “I won’t let you. I will end this war through a miracle. Whatever your Shadow is, I will not let it come to pass.”
Atrum scoffed, clasping to his wound. “Better work quick, then. The war’s already begun. No doubt Terrill, wherever the old man sent him to, is hard at work on it. I wonder if your fairy tales will succeed.”
“I’ll make them succeed!”
“You’ll try, but eventually you’ll come to understand the same way I did, brother.” Lumen narrowed his eyes, while Atrum’s softened, offering a resigned smile before it was replaced with cold fury. “You cannot fight destiny. No matter how much time has delayed, you will die. And when you understand that, your despair will be overwhelming. Until then, I will be waiting.”
“Atrum!” Lumen screamed, his sword cutting through the air, yet meeting nothing but a mix of melting shadows that swirled around. Atrum was gone, and the rumbling through the cave ceased. Whatever was pursuing Atrum had disappeared with him. Lumen shook his head, his pack bouncing with every movement. “No, I won’t join you. I won’t join with you. I’ll stop the war, I’ll…”
Lumen’s arms fell limply to his side and he let out a rattled breath. Who was he kidding? He had no way of knowing anything going on in the outside world. Not where Charles was. Not the state of his country. Nothing. Only that he was meant to die. Always meant to die. What did his actions matter?
No, don’t think that! You’re still alive! he insisted to himself, sheathing his sword and slapping his cheeks. Then he looked up, his eyes gazing to the mural that depicted the great fortress in the air. The closer he got, the more he saw that the way the artist had drawn it depicted parts of the construct as being of a similar metal to the one he’d found in the canyon.
“Terrill’s out there trying to stop the war, too, huh?” Lumen let slip a shaky breath, but his spine steeled itself, drawing him upwards. “Then I can’t stop, either.”
Lumen turned, facing the broken door to the metal passageway he had first discovered. The Wind Fortress, the aim of Invaria and the one location that could end the hostilities on its own. He was close; he could feel it.
And Atrum had tried to stop him before he could get close.
“I can put a stop to it, then. I won’t let you decide my fate.” Lumen hitched his cloak up, abandoning the mural to proceed down the hall and back into the darkness, where all his senses were cut off. He spared his final thoughts before silence with but a few words. “Charles, Terrill…I hope you’re all right.”
He pressed on.