Beneath the Shadowlanders

Chapter Forty-Four: Gabriel

It's impossible to catalog the thoughts that cross your mind when you watch a shadow kill. The way they sink their teeth into their victims. The way they almost seem to cradle them. The peace that crosses their face as they fade into nothing. The same peace that crossed my mother's face almost four years ago.

Genevieve curls into my side as we watch the General fade out, haunted by the memories as much as I am. We watch as he goes limp in Nashua's arms, his eyes locked onto Nashua's face. We watch as the peace crosses into his eyes, and we know it won't be long. And just before his face vanishes with the rest of him, I swear, he smiles.

Nashua stands, facing Raoul now. With his host gone, he's vulnerable, just for this brief window. Nashua takes him by the shoulders, opening his mouth wide. Carefully, almost reverently, he sinks his teeth deep into the side of Raoul's neck. He takes a step back, watching stoically, eyes as cold and hard as the stone on which he stands, as Raoul begins to dissolve before our eyes.

It starts in his fingertips. You could almost mistake it for smoke if you were far enough away. Bit by bit, he turns to dust, floating away in the breeze. It creeps from his hands, up his arms, across his shoulders. It begins anew at his toes, climbing his legs, his torso, his neck. As it claims his head, he seems to look at Nashua, respect pooling in the dust of his eyes. And then he's gone.

Shadow particles fill the air, blinding us, choking us. And then, as quickly as it came, it's gone. Nothing remains of Raoul the Shadow King.

We stand in silence for a long minute, absorbing the reality of what has just happened. No one moves, not even the shadows.

And then Nashua takes David by the temples, and speaks. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Shadowkind and Man," he begins, his voice heavy with grief. "This war has taken so many – from both sides. Far too many have died in this battle that can never be won. There have been enough casualties, enough sorrow for many generations. It's time to pick up the pieces.

"It's time for a new world – one which encompasses both Man- and Shadow-kind alike. It's time to seek the peace we should have made three years ago. It's time to return humanity to the surface."

The shadows glance nervously back and forth at one another, unsure how to respond.

Nashua repeats himself. "It's time to bring the hosts back to the Shadowlands. No more should they be forced to rot underground while we rule over a world we can't even enjoy. As of today, the war is over." He says this last bit with so much force, the ground shakes beneath our feet. The shadows lose what is left of their doubt, nodding in agreement with Nashua's decree.

They begin murmuring in their own way, whispers passed among themselves. The room seems to shimmer with the sound of it, murmurs of approval, of awe and respect. Even the wind seems to sing it. Nashua, King of the Shadows, has risen.