Under the comfort of darkness, my shadows release, stretching wide on the streets ahead of me.Every time I glance down, I half-expect them to abandon me too, just like everybody else.
Tendrils of smoke snake along the floor, and slither across the walls, flinching at any sudden noise of passerbys.
I can’t remember life without them, these silent companions that have outlasted every friend I’ve ever had.They are my only friends now.
Water drips somewhere above me—slow and steady.The sound pulls me backward to a moment in time when life under the Hollow seemed somewhat normal.
Da sits on the edge of my bed, the weight of him tilting the edge of the mattress.He pulls the covers up to my chest, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand, before tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
Darkness pools at my feet, curling into a ball, like it too was ready for his story.
Da’s deep voice bounces off the damp walls, reverberating through my bones.
A rattle forms deep in his chest, as he talks of old gods and new—the ones of light and the ones of shadow, and the war that doomed us to the dark.
I stare open-mouthed, my gaze remaining firmly fixed on the thick ring of white lining his dark black eyes.
He pauses, gazing back to the darkness that spools over my bedspread, before his eyes trace back to me.
“Be careful of your shadows, little one—” he says, as his hand traces softly against my cheek.“—not everyone is accepting of the unknown.”
“But why do I have them, Da?”my high-pitched voice squeaks.
“You were gifted something you are not yet able to understand,” he says, as he withdraws his hand, pulling my bedspread further onto my chest.“One day, when you’re all grown, you’ll find the answers you seek.I just hope I can be here for you when you receive them.”
“Why will you not be here?You’re my Da, you’re supposed to be with me forever.”
“Not everything is made to last, my love.Now that I’ve been touched by the plague that rules this city, I’m afraid my days are numbered.”
My heart still sinks at the sight of the fragile smile that touched his face, his impending death cracking his calm facade at any moment.
The cliffside steps come into view, pulling me away from the memories I desperately cling on to.My only proof that he was real.
The air this far on the outskirts grows colder, wetter.The damp-lined walls of the inner city give way to sheer rock faces where water trickles down, creating a relentless symphony of drops—the sound of the Hollow weeping endless tears.
My home—the only home I’ve ever known—clings to the rock, a half-forgotten place carved into the side of the world.
The door creaks as I push it open, the sound swallowed by the thick air within.
Walls are wet with condensation; the ceiling sags where roots push through from the world above, trailing soil and mildew.It’s not much but it’s home.
My steps are soft, careful, as I shut the door with a click.
“Back,” I whisper into the silence, not expecting a reply.
A low cough from the far corner, answers anyway.Tucked under a threadbare blanket, with his head poking out of the top, is Sylas.My big brother.
“You shouldn’t be awake,” I say firmly, crossing the room in three strides to crouch beside him.
His skin is pale, sweat sheening his brow in the soft glow of candlelight.His eyes struggle to open, as wisps of fever-glazed clouds greet me.After all the pain he’s in, he still manages a weak smile.
“Seren…did you get it?”he rasps.
I pull the glass vial from my satchel and set it by the hearth which has long since died.“I’ll make the tonic now.Don’t move.”
“Wasn’t planning to,” he grunts.
The corner of my mouth twitches as I relight the fire, relishing the warmth already emitting from the embers.
