Shadow Former

[5] Shadow Former

Konnya rolled over and groaned. What to get for Zook?

...Who's Zook?

A door slammed and the thought vanished.

Konnya bolted upright, and immediately regretted it. Pain shot up her spine, and stabbed her skull. The heels of her hands went to her head. Her scalp was wet. She winced as she rubbed a huge bump with her fingertips.

Footsteps vibrated the wooden floor. A shadow fell over her. A damp cloth landed on Konnya's lap. She raised her head enough to see who owned the leather shoes taking up most of her vision.

A huge man hovered over her. A mask went up to the bridge of his nose. Large hands pulled a hat over cold eyes. He pointed at her lap. "Clean up."

Konnya lifted the rag to the back of her head. She patted gently, trying to get the blood off without starting a new flow.

Memories from before she got knocked out surfaced. The image of her roommate, cold and dead, had Konnya out of breath and glaring at the huge man. Why kill Amyth? She wasn't important to Svanturum. Barely had any clearance. She organized the library's books for goodness sake!

Konnya noticed tears sliding down her cheeks. She did nothing to hide them.

His eyes flickered. Was that guilt?

He grunted. "Tur'svan wants to see you."

Tur'svan...Konnya's knowledge of the old language was small. Svan: the one. Tur: they trust. The one they trust. The opposite of Svanturum.

The man grabbed Konnya's arm, and yanked her to her feet. Her head only came up to his mid shoulder. His chest was so broad, he must've been three times as wide as her.

Her head throbbed. A sudden pressure behind her eyes almost threw her to her knees.

The man pushed her forward. "Door. Take a left."

Konnya glared at him. The hat he wore made her want to scream. She grabbed the hat, whipped it off, and threw it on the ground. He growled and clenched his fists. Beads of sweat dripped down his high forehead. He'd combed over his mousey brown hair in a bad attempt to cover his balding head.

Mr. Combover raised his hand and brought it down on Konnya's face. She tried not to cry out, and bit back tears. She fingered her face. Hot to the touch, and wet. She gritted her teeth, looked straight ahead, and wiped the blood on her pants. She headed for the door Combover pointed to.

*********

Svanturum training ran through her mind.

Pay attention to the things they would never think to hide. Stay as close to the truth as possible. Agree with what they already know, tell them nothing more.

"I thought I told you to have her clean up!" Tur'svan said.

Combover blushed. "You never said how much."

Tur'svan sat back against her intricately carved throne. She brushed aside her dark hair, revealing several black swirls tattooed on her neck. "Come here."

The floorboards rose and sank as Combover shifted his weight.

"Stracks!" Tur'svan yelled. "Come here."

He mumbled something under his breath as he walked passed Konnya. He removed his hat, making his hair stick up like a pitiful flag. He knelt in front of the small dais, and bowed his head.

Tur'svan stood, and whispered something in his ear. He jerked back, shaking his head. "No," he said. "Please. Anything else!"

Tur'svan chuckled, her perfect eyes lighting up. "I promise. This time you won't remember." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Be still."

She touched his neck. Black mist shot around his head. He yelled and fell to his back. He grabbed his neck and writhed in pain. Konnya jumped out of the way and watched in horror. The agony on his face tore at her heart.

"Stop this!" Konnya yelled above Stracks' screams.

Tur'svan raised her hands in a shrug. "Can't."

Stracks stilled, and the room went deathly quiet. Konnya thought Tur'svan must be able to hear her pounding heart.

Black smoke surrounded Stracks, but didn't spread to the rest of the room. An acidic smell stung Konnya's nose. Tur'svan knelt at his side. Touching his shoulders she said, "Once more, and you'll be complete."

He moaned and sat up. Konnya gasped. His once thin and mousey hair was now thick and dark. His eyes also appeared to be a shade darker.

Konnya'd read about something like this. People who had the ability to change others into a lose copy of themselves.

Shadow Former.

Stracks raised his wrists. The same black swirls as on Tur'svan's neck sneaked under his sleeves. He glared at Tur'svan. "You said I wouldn't remember."

"You won't in a few days." She seated herself on her throne. "Clean up. You stink."

Stracks nodded, and limped away.

Tur'svan crossed her legs and put her pale hands on her lap. "Step forward."

Konnya folded her arms. "Your kind are supposed to be extinct."

Her dark eyes softened. "They are. I'm the last." Her mouth parted, but she snapped it shut.

Konnya's lips twitched. That must be terrible. No one in the world to belong to. She sighed. She knew the feeling. Clenching her teeth, she straightened her shoulders. Shadow Formers didn't deserve pity. "But they've been gone for centuries."

Tur'svan smiled. Konnya wanted to smear her perfect eyeliner. "They have. I'm eleven hundred and thirty-four."

How could someone be alone for so long?

"How's your head?" She said.

Now that she mentioned it, terrible. Konnya put her hand on the burning cut. She winced.

Tur'svan stood. "Let me help."

Konnya squared her shoulders and backed away. "Not if you're going to try to convert me."

Tur'svan sighed. "You misread me. I would never hurt another Shadow Former."