The Other Side

Of Shadow

"This is the girl?

"The very one."

I stir against the wall, glaring at the bars and flickering lights above. Two tall figures, they wear the same smooth-faced masked I see in my dreams. The pearls dangling at their foreheads catch lights and shine.

"She's conscious." The shorter one says, voice soft, accent thick. A foreigner?

"It's conscious." The taller one corrects, voice deep.

It's him, the one who stole me away.

The shadows rise and fall, I see half of a crescent moon through the slitted windows high above.

"I heard her story is quite tragic." The short one continues talking about me, "Touched by siin at such a young age and then-"

"We don't call it that here." Deep voice interrupts, "You're in Rovea, get it right."

"Excuse me." The softer voice pitches higher, seeming argumentative, "This is the only place it's called otherwise. You all need to get with the times." I stare at them through slick strands of hair.

"Stay on task." The deep voice chides, "Let's figure out what string of Umbria is afflicting it and get out of here." Afflicting?

My cell door opens up and the two of them enter. The bars sing as the hinges swing shut again.

"What is that?" I ask hoarsely, trying a nervous smile. They don't hear me, over their robes and shuffles. Please don't hurt me. I write my fingers together, thinking of the ring he once used. I'm terrified. 

I'm giggly as they slowly inch toward me.

"For once, we agree. She's scaring me so, I nominate the top of the class." The short one nudges the taller with their shoulder, "You do it."

"Fine." And so it begins. My bubbly laughter begins to contain itself as I start to study him, the one who stole me away.

He shuffles toward me, mask glaring. He stands above me, before squatting and taking my wrist in his gloved hands. His fingers cradle my pulse and he goes very still.

I stare up at him, searching every inch of his livery for more information.

What else do you believe? Those pearls? What are they for? The mask? Why? Mud-covered steel-toed boots. A cloak. Where are you going?

A darkness begins at his fingertips, just like the shadows haunting me they swell up and swirl around our connected hands.

"You're no physician." I clear my ragged throat, "What are you?"

His mask lowers and I pretend we're making eye contact.

"They call us Serics." He tilts his head to the side curiously, "Little Nia didn't know that, but I'm sure you do, shadow."

"I've heard that word before... Serics are decendents of Rovea's castle, right?" 

"Supposedly," he replies, "But we're much more than just that now." He clears his throat, "And you? What are you, then?" His hand drops from mine.

"I'm just Nia..."

"Unfortunately for you, you're so much more." He continues, "You could make this easier on yourself and tell the truth. What are you?"

The truth?!

"I don't know." That's the truth. I thought I knew I was Nia, but what really am I?

What did I wake up to?

"Janus?" The soft voice behind him calls curiously.

"I'm not getting anything." He replies to them, turning his head to glance over his shoulder.

"Shit." They say, "I'll send word." They spin on their heel, leaving the Seric called Janus alone in this cage with me.

"Janus?" I try his name, his head darts to mine, again I pretend our eyes meet, "What's going to happen to me?"

"It depends."

"On what I'm afflicted with?"

"Correct."

"Janus." I say again, I stare at his mask, wishing I could force my will on him, "Please tell my brother to move on from me."

"I don't owe you any favors."

"No," I shake my head, squirming on my stomach fighting tears, "You don't, but please tell my brother I'm dead."

"Dead?"

"I just want to end this guilt."

"His or yours?" He asks. I don't know how to answer.

Both?

"She's on the way." The soft voice chimes at the cell door.

"Good." Janus rises. He looms over my crumpled form, the clear opposite of me. Regal, smooth, and beautiful.

"Soon, we'll uncover your secrets, shadow." He says, "Til next time." I watch Soft Voice open the door for Janus, he passes through, offering me a glance over his shoulder. I stare back at him as the barred door closes.

They walk past the threshold and there's nothing anymore.

Just me and the rats.

The rats squeak and stir, wiggling through stone and mold.

I roll onto my side, fighting with my weak knees.

I'm a prisoner inside of these walls and inside of myself.

I don't know anything.

I don't feel anything.