Shadowbook

Chapter 4: Astor

"𝕴𝖓 𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝖚𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖒 𝖜𝖊 𝖉𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜." -𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖑 𝕵𝖚𝖓𝖌

Astor. Where do I begin?

I should probably begin with when I met him. It was in school, just over a week after our little excursion to the Shadow Realm. I was walking towards an empty classroom where I usually went to be alone, because it was unlocked during my free period, and the lights were all turned off. It was small and simple, with a few empty tables and chairs, and a blackboard that had a projector screen hanging in front of it. I think it had once been an office, but it felt cozy instead of claustrophobic. I liked to sit in there to read or write, because no one would bother me.

This time, there was already someone in the room.

A young man sat at one of the desks. He looked about my age, probably seventeen or eighteen. I knew I had never seen him before — I normally didn't notice other people, but I would certainly have noticed someone so striking. His skin was perfectly white and smooth, like marble. He had wavy black hair that fell onto his chest, curling below his collarbone. He was dressed entirely in black, and writing in a journal bound with embossed black leather. A Shadowbook, just like mine.

I stood in the door frame, mystified. "Hey." I don't know what made me say it, but I blurted, "are you a Shadow?"

The boy looked up. His gaze was intense, paralyzing. His expression was unreadable. "Yes," he said.

There was no way that was a coincidence. He had to be here because Senka and I had entered the Shadow Realm. Elation filled me; I'd wanted a guide, and life delivered, just like that. When did that ever happen?

I swept into the room, possessed by an unfamiliar, dizzy excitement. Maybe I was simply thrilled that a Shadow was here, or maybe something else compelled me sit down in front of him. Why? I didn't even know him! But I wanted nothing more than to talk to him, to see his face light up in admiration when I told him about how we'd found out about Shadows and opened a portal all by ourselves... And yet, I was also wary to approach him, and not because of my usual assumption that people would be cruel or dismissive if I talked to them. It was more like he was a large feline, a leopard or a tiger — magnificent, beautiful, with soft-looking fur, but inherently dangerous to go near.

"I am indeed a Shadow," he said as I sat down. His voice was a bit high, but smooth, and he spoke with a posh accent. He continued to stare at me with wide, dark eyes. I stared back at him. He had a narrow face, diamond-shaped, with high cheekbones and a small nose. His hair tumbled over his shoulders in soft waves and bounced when he moved. Some boys are handsome, but I had never seen one like this. His was a gentle, impeccable beauty. It was daunting.

I took a deep, shuddering breath. My hands were shaking, and my heart was so loud I assumed he could hear it. "I'm Nyx," I said. "I'm not really a Shadow. Not yet."

"My name is Astor." He smiled slightly.

He seemed vaguely familiar. It wasn't déjà vu either, no, it was like I had encountered him in some distant conversation and forgotten about it. When? I wouldn't forget something like that.

"So you're from the Shadow Realm, right?" It took all I had not to launch into a string of questions.

"I have lived in Umbragard my entire life," he said, with a touch of pride. He put down his pen and folded his hands, relaxed but poised, watching me as though he were amused by my questions. "It's beautiful, is it not? Where exactly did you end up?"