Dana Ilic and the Shadow Door (Lightwielder Chronicles #1) | ✔️

17 | Light and Shadow

For a moment, I rested my head on his chest, but then I pulled away.

"Blake. You speak of freedom. But you are not really free, Blake. You are Chernobog's pawn."

"And how is that different from you being Belobog's pawn?"

"I am not his pawn!"

"How do you know? You haven't even met Belobog at all."

"I know it because here you are, and here Chernobog is, pushing me to make your choice. Belobog, wherever he is, is letting me make my own choice."

"I am not pushing you in any way, my daughter," Chernobog spoke all of a sudden. "I am just showing you the path. There is not only light, or only shadow. There is just might. And, you see, the truly powerful ones, such as you, they can wield both. You speak of evil but, if you sat on the Shadow Throne, the shades would be under your control. You could have them do whatever you wish."

"Remember how bad things were in the past, Dana," said Blake.

All the laughter. All that bullying.

"You never belonged with those other kids, and now you know why. You've been invisible your whole life."

"But accept the Shadow Sceptre, and you'll be invisible no longer. The whole world will remember your name."

"They were jerks to you but, in a way, it's a good thing you went through all that. Your scars are what give you the strength to endure. The power to fight, and thrive."

"I don't think anyone should have such power. Or use it. Not even, as you say, use it for good. Being on a Shadow Plane. Commanding Shadows. Being that mighty... It would tempt me, and it would corrupt me. Like it did my father."

"Not you. You would fight it." Blake shook his head.

"I don't think I could. I don't think anyone can fight the darkness when perpetually exposed to it. There would just be death... and destruction. The shades would consume the entire world."

The image of the tiny sparrow lying on the ground still haunted me.

"You care even for Tamika? For Indira?" Blake's mouth curved in a sad smile.

"I do. Because that's how it's supposed to be. That's what matters most in life. Caring for yourself, and others. Not just for yourself. It's the only way how we can preserve this world."

"They don't care about you." There was a trace of anger in his voice.

"But I should also care about those who don't care about me, and not strive to destroy them. Sure, we aren't the best of friends. Because there might be so many reasons why they don't give a damn about me. They might not see the real me, or we simply might be different, or like different stuff. But it doesn't mean they don't get to have a beautiful life just as we do. They should spend their time on earth getting to choose awesome experiences for themselves, spent with, or without me. I don't want them to get hurt, or die!"

Blake's shoulders sagged. He once again looked like a mere teenage boy, burdened by pressure, plagued by expectations.

"And so you make your choice." The cold, high pitched voice of my father rang in my ears. "Care. Love." Chernobog swatted those words out of his mouth as if they were irksome flies. "Feelings. Mere obstacles, if you ask me. Love is like a terminal disease. You can discover it on time, or too late. Some recover from it fully, some are partially healed. Other suffer from it all their lives, and some die of it. You'll realise your mistake soon enough. But for now, so be it."