The Shadows Have No Face || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Fall With Me

Niana's POV

~)(~

Everything closed in on us. The world grew smaller and tighter, the air heavier and difficult to breathe. I didn't know if this meant death or not, but it felt wrong. That usually meant death.

I didn't want death. I thought I did for a time, but now that it stared me in the face, I realized I was pretending to be okay so those around me would look away. I was scared—terrified.

I was just a child, hidden between the walls of a library. Where I had to hold my breath, a hand over my mouth. Where I had to silence my sobbing and try not to choke on tears. As my mother fought with all she could to keep me safe, only to have her wings shredded and her heart ripped out.

I was just a child, forced to kill before I knew what it meant to die. Forced to paint with blood and learn how rich its color was. Feeling the burns of iron and punishment and learning to enjoy the sting. To twist my mind into craving the taste of metallic blood, to yearn for the sight of death in front of me.

And only now, as I tried to erase what stained my past, did the Mother wish to smite me down. The cruelty of our creator was the one thing they never warned us about.

The glass floor cracked beneath where Elain huddled beside me. She kicked closer and slid us across the floor which became much too slippery. The cracks followed us, circled us, and all at once, shattered. Pieces of it went in every direction, but none drew blood.

The glass splashed against my skin like cold water droplets. I still held onto Elain's hand as we started falling into the abyss beneath. Would there be a bottom? There was only one way to find out.

This could just be an abyss of darkness with no beginning or end. Maybe we would fall through an endless pit, further from life and closer to the silence of death. But the Cauldron would never offer the reward of an end, so it would keep us stretching and pulling. Further from living—but barely too far from dying.

I closed my eyes and braced for something—anything. But there was nothing. Not even a wind against my body or a sound of whistling in my ears. Just... a pulling on my arm.

It stopped me from falling, and though I expected to feel the pop of my shoulder, no pain came—because I was so close to death. Something held my arm tight, swirling around my wrist and moving over my elbow. Whispers mixed and dissipated within the darkness surrounding it, like tendrils and vines of thorns wrapped tight against me.

I knew it, knew that darkness. Swirling and spinning endless night. Beautiful night. Shadows.

Let go. Fall. Fall into death. Fall into me.

The Cauldron was a poison slithering against my cheek, a snake's tongue tasting my flesh to see how warm I was. It was a whisper, a hiss of death, and the attempt at affection it didn't know how to imitate.

I held onto those shadows, onto Elain. We had a chance. We could get out of here alive. I knew it. I had to try, at least.

"Don't let go," I shouted at her.

She held on with both hands and said, "Get us out of here—you can do it."

I could. I had to. Try, just try to get out. Give it a chance. That's all I had to do.

"Reach... don't let go... follow me." There was a comfort in this that I would never feel from the hiss of the Cauldron. Even if it was distant and so weak, I would know it was his voice—I would feel the immediate relief and warmth, the sudden need to hear it again.