Fade

Chapter Three

When I was four, I would wake in the night and wish for the sun. The darkness worried me; my imagination supplied many beasts with grotesque jaws lurking beyond the range of my vision.

My mother convinced me to embrace it. She taught me to find comfort in the darkness, to let my eyes adjust to the shadows and to see the beauty in the stillness. I learned to love the way the moon cast long, eerie shadows across the landscape, and the way the stars twinkled like tiny diamonds in the sky. I loved the way the air felt cool and crisp, and the way the world seemed to slow down just a little bit during the quiet hours of the night.

She taught me to feel as comfortable with the shadows as I was with my fire. As I realized the power I held at my fingertips, I was trained to control the fire. It surrounded everything, mercilessly devouring everything in its path. It abided by my every command.

After Zion whisked me back clandestinely, he took his place again outside my door, leaving me a precious few more hours to sleep. Regrettably, those hours were consumed by my nightmares - relentless, repeated flashes of my last kill that echoed in my subconscious. The events of the past few months have been taunting me constantly.

"What brings you here?" My query was directed at a girl my age, as much of an intruder as I was a defender.

"I was playing with the prince, he is a brother to me; we were hiding from each other and, and..." Her stutter faded into the void, fresh tears sparkling in her eyes as she hiccupped. "I lost my bearings. I am so sorry! This won't happen again."

I paused. The prince? Looking at my mother expectantly, she shook her head.

"She's weaving a web of deception, my dear. She's a Nightrealm spy, who can anticipate what she has observed or learnt?" My mother's words were a silken veil of tranquility amongst the storm.

"You won't fool me, Nightborne." I proclaimed, my voice barren of emotion. Of course it was a lie. No one has seen the king since my mother had killed him. This would mean he would have a son, but nothing coming from that realm could be trusted. "And him?" I turned my attention to a young man whose eyes were wide and filled with fear.

"Your majesties," he bowed, his voice quivering at first. "Punish me, not Inara. Please, I beg you." His voice was steel, vibrating through our realm with a sense of power. I cocked my head. He was not just a villager; I could tell by the confidence he bore. "I am Silas, prince of the Nightrealm, you must obey my realm, or you will feel our wrath!"

My mom laughed darkly. "Ever since your realm had allowed the Reverie into our world, Alyanthi has learned not to trust your kind."

I bit the insides of my cheek at her statement.

"The Goddesses have chosen to protect us! Not you! Why do you think they granted us the shadows that cover our lands?" He must have hit a nerve as my mother's eye twitched as she fought to contain her rage.

"Aurora, kill her." Her demand held no word for negotiation as I looked back at Inara.

"Please! Promise me mercy!" Her cry tore at me, a wrenching appeal that was hard to ignore. But if my mother was to be trusted, letting her go was a risk we couldn't afford.

My mother's frown reached me as I hesitated. The pressure of her gaze was like a physical weight, urging me to refocus on the girl. Any further delay would be considered defiance. I had been groomed to lead, my purpose being to safeguard my realm at all costs. My mother had often reminded me how arduous killing was, and how to ease the burden, she advised that I close my eyes. Her kindness I mistook for not making me witness death up close.