S.A.S. - Book one: Secrets (Rewriting)

Epilogue

Shadow walked to the lonely graveyard, his scythe secure on his back. The gate was wide open. Hmm... someone's been here. He ran the few feet left into the cemetery and looked around. Everything was as he left it, but he saw a patch on his gravestone where a paw had disturbed the dust on it. Who was it...? He thought for a moment. Silver... He turned around, about to exit the cemetery when the blood-red flames appeared once again.

Shadow hesitated for a moment, but he didn't have a choice. He walked over to them, and the winged figure appeared again. "Shadow? Do you mind explaining?" Shadow hung his head, not replying. The figure sighed and rustled his wings. "I expect you have taken measures to fix this?" Shadow gave a small nod but still stayed silent. "Good. Shadow, is there something I should know?"

Shadow sighed and nodded again, raising his head to look at his master. "They know." The figure tensed, his claws forming jagged fists.

"...How..." Shadow winced at this word.

"They found him. Silver, my brother. He gained his memories back..." The figure looked at Shadow with interest.

"Silver...? And you still haven't taken care of him? Come on Shadow, I'm beginning to think you like working for me." He laughed an echo-y laugh, one that scraped the walls and tore at the wind.

Shadow winced, looking down. "I still have not reached my peak, and Silver is getting more powerful as well."

His master shook his head. "You know I can't speed up the process. You wouldn't survive, and you're no use to me dead." Shadow growled, obviously upset. At least I tried. The figure shook his head again. "Shadow, you need to stop them. Now. Go and take care of it!"  The flames dissipated, leaving Shadow in the cemetery alone.

Shadow sighed and ran out of the graveyard, leaving his lonely gravestone there. He ran further than the FoxCraft kingdom, beyond its borders. Eventually, he reached an ocean, too vast to swim across. Instead, Shadow leaped, flying higher and higher until he started to leave the atmosphere. Then he began to fall, straight down.

For a few seconds, he let himself free-fall. After those few seconds, however, it was as if he had landed on a cloud. In fact, he did land on a cloud, floating in the sky. He swiped his hand, and ground appeared below the misty vapor, the cloud moving on to unveil a flying city.

Shadow was actually in the Featherling kingdom, one of the marvels of their "steampunk" style. Steam billowed out of pipes, obscuring the kingdom in a cloudy vapor most of the time. Shadow was in their cemetery, the place where they honored the dead Featherling fellows who fought along-side the eagle Featherlings.

Shadow drew his senses outward, searching for the perfect candidate. If you wanted to fight a fire, you needed something equally cold. Finally, he found what he was looking for. One of the original Featherlings, Frost. He had already mastered cold magic in his life, but when the war broke out, he used up his life force to protect the ancestors and the other Featherlings.

Shadow walked over to where he lay. It was a massive statue, the wings of an owl outstretched from the form of a human. The human part, however, looked more owl than human. Shadow once again raised his paw, the dark mass flowing out from it and to the casket tucked under the statue's feet. The casket slid out, and the cover opened. There was nothing but dust inside, but this didn't stop Shadow's power.

The dust flowed out of the casket and swirled into the air, coming faster and faster. It congealed and formed a frosty-white owl Featherling, arms outstretched and eyes closed. Unlike Grant, Frost was silent during his revitalization, even though the pain must've been excruciating. After around five minutes Frost was lowered on the ground, panting. He didn't say anything, but there was something different about him.