“I said I’m sorry.” Danica chided him in a frosty tone. “This has never happened before. I’m not even sure what’s going on.”

Contrary to her previous state, her presence now seemed to chill the air around her. Jon didn’t have the guts to touch her again, and find out if her aura would cause frostbite. He now sat on her couch, arm wrapped in a bandage that hid the burns she had inflicted. They were painful, but not truly threatening to his health, so he did his best not to grumble at her. She sighed.

“Look, I’ll take you back to your house. I think it’s best if you play some kind of background support role from here, and maybe you have some gadgets that will help with that. Being around you is clearly too much for me right now.”

She looked down blankly at the cup of tea which had slowly frozen over in her grasp. She was not wearing her shadow bracelets right then, as she hadn’t wanted her shadows to murder Jon while she wasn’t looking. She didn’t feel the cold she exuded, but her skin looked unusually pale; the sense of detachment she felt right then was like a cool balm against her skin. If she had to guess she would say that the rage centers of her brain had finally burned out, leaving only this blanket of calm. She stood up because her chair was starting to develop frozen patches, and even as detached as she felt, she would have been embarrassed to have her butt frozen to her furniture. Even worse if it reignited her rage, and she burned it to cinders. She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop on her emotional state with her newfound aura.

Jon spoke up. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take an uber. We don’t need any more… accidents. He looked pointedly down at the floor where her carpet had begun freezing in small circles around her feet. She sighed and nodded, shaking her feet out to stymie the buildup of ice that might have sealed her feet to the floor in another minute or two. He left through the front door without saying a word, as she looked after him. A feeling of helplessness pierced the veil of her detachment. Luckily helplessness didn’t seem to have any grand elemental force attached to it, and her aura soon dissipated as she shifted back into the shadow world.

She came out of the portal, rising from the ground where her friends had been lounging by the library.

“Hello love, changed your mind about eviscerating him?” Danielle asked, a bloodthirsty tone to her voice.

“No; I appreciate the sentiment, but that’s not who we are.” Danica replied.

“Pity. I so wanted to punish him for what he did to us, but for you I would set aside even my vengeance.”

Danica embraced Danielle, quivering silently as suppressed grief flowed from her eyes. Danielle returned returned her embrace, patting her gently on the back.

“There there love, all will be well.”

Danica nodded into her shoulder; eyes staring into the shadows with a brittle look. Finally she disengaged from Danielle, wiping her eyes. Ahron stood quietly at the sidelines, having nothing to add besides his silent support.

“I need your help Danielle. Something’s wrong with me, my feelings keep making this aura that’s hurting things around me.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Unexpectedly, Danielle laughed. Surprised, and slightly irked, Danica spoke.

“What?”

“You haven’t gotten to that part in your books yet?” Danielle asked with a smirk.

“Um no, what’s wrong with me?”

“I’m going to tell you a secret that I wormed out of rend. He nearly killed me after, so you better not tell anyone this. Seriously, promise you won’t tell.”

“Ok I promise.”

“Shadows aren’t the pure form of your magic. Think of it more as… enhanced metaphor. When you do shadow magic, you’re not really working with shadows. That’s a metaphor for the fact that you’re manifesting a metaphor as physical truth. A shadow of the truth if you will. A metaphor of a metaphor. The point is that your power is rooted in feeling. In emotional truths that transcend physical law.”

“I… hadn’t realized.”

“Rend said most people don’t. Most people see the shadow magic, and think they’re working with some kind of fancy shadows. They don’t see that the shadows are only a metaphor for what they’re really doing.”

“So… what does this have to do with what’s wrong with me?”

Danielle shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong with you. You just need me there to balance you out.”

“What do you mean?”

Danielle whacked her lightly on the back of her head. “What would happen if you gave someone magical powers designed to run on emotion, then removed the part of them that acted as a buffer between their magically charged emotions, and the rest of the world?”

“Oh I think I...”

“Why, you might get angry and burst into metaphorical flames, or get sad and drown in your sorrow. In fact this is why Rend takes the shadows of those who enter the library. In order to practice shadow magic that part has to be detached, otherwise we act as a filter, and nothing manifests physically. Bring me with you from now on. Even detached as I am I can still act like a lightning rod.”

“Why is this such a big secret anyway?”

“Do you know what the world used to call people who managed to shed their shadow, but didn’t have shadow magic to offer control?”

Danica shook her head.

“Gods. All of the shadows you see here are the shades of a god. Some of the people who have managed this, or been inflicted with it in today’s society don’t realize what they are, and they’re called metahumans. Some are called wizards or witches because they use rituals to manifest their power. Ultimately though, it doesn’t matter. It’s all just a metaphor based on their feelings and wills. That’s why you are currently the strongest living person. You don’t just practice magic, or have powers. You control the root of every magic, and every power. That is why this is supposed to be a secret. Because when shadow-users realize what they truly are they have the potential to become world-ending apocalypses, or reshape reality at their whim on a universal scale. Don’t worry though, I trust you!” That last sentence seemed to shift Danielle from a grim doomsayer, back to her normally sultry, cheerful self.

Danica was stunned. She was some kind of god? And not just a limited polytheistic type, but something more akin to a monotheistic, omnipotent deity? There was no way that was true. Maybe she defeated Jon handily, but she knew the limits on her powers. At least she knew that her lack of knowledge put limits on what she could do. She had only scratched the surface of the contents of the library, so maybe there would be something in the more advanced books allowing her to reshape the fabric of reality. Clearly that level of power was beyond her comprehension at the moment though, so she turned back to Danielle.

“Thank you for telling me this. It sounds like you’re taking a big risk.”

Danielle waved her gratitude away. “Psh. You know that I have ulterior motives. Someday I’ll talk you into smiting that man, and when I do, you’ll be able to sear his existence from the universe like swatting a gnat thanks to the knowledge I just gave you.”

Danica smiled sadly. “We’ll see how things play out.”

Danielle smiled her own mournful smile. “I know how they already have.”