With his other hand, he peels a dark strand straight off his own scalp and brings the two together. I’m trembling, and a cold sensation crawls up my throat when the beautiful man rubs his hands together in an elegant gesture reminiscent of wiping dust off one’s skin.
I heave the moment his palms part, revealing that the two threads have now merged, but Tristan gently pulls my head to his shoulder, shushing me.
“It’s all right. This shall pass.”
It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it to me, but what do I know? This must be a strange dream. My body shakes from the cold stabbing every bit of my wet skin by the time the stranger seems content enough with his strange ritual. I don’t dare complain and just keep trembling in Tristan’s sturdy arms.
The blue eyes settle on me once more, and I’m desperate to say something,anythingthat would turn the scowl on the man’s lips into a smile, but he’s right back to focusing on his subordinate. “You will fetch him for me.”
“Would you not like to stay to—”
“Just make sure he drinks the potion.” The ‘captain’ walks off with a swish of his cloak so dramatic I get to see some of silver stars embroidered on the underside.
“Yes, sir,” Tristan says, putting me down. We watch his superior mount a horse in the distance, and the moment he rides out of our sight, Tristan gives me an honest grin. “I can’t wait. I barely ever get to see the human realm.”
I frown, shaking more and more. Even my teeth are starting to rattle now, and the world sways as if I have no energy to keep standing. “What?”
Tristan stares at me for a moment, then makes a deep bow. “Where are my manners? Welcome to the Nightmare Realm. Iam Prince Tristan Bloodweed, Knight of Grief Ocean, Warden of the Realm, First Lieutenant of the Nightcloaks.” He straightens and winks at me. “I also happen to hold the title of the fastest rider in last year’s kelpie race, both on landandin the sea.”
It’s overwhelming, but my grandparents raised me right, so I offer him my hand, cringing when I see how violently it trembles. “N-nathan Kekoa. Nate. Winner of Wilson Elementary's spelling bee? That was years ago though… What is happening?”
“Nathan! Like my nephew. Come with me, let’s sit. In my excitement, I forgot how little you know right now.” Tristan strokes my shoulder. “You’re freezing. It won’t be too long now, but let me provide some comfort.”
He unpins the same thorned gate brooch that his captain wore and takes off his cloak with a swish. It’s warm and heavy when it settles on my shoulders, providing relief I didn’t quite expect. It smells of him too, like leather and smoky herbs, and I can’t help but pull it closer around my head.
This might just be the final dream of a dying man, but at least in this surreal moment, someone is actually standing by me instead of leaving me behind. “Thank you. It’s— so soft.”
He leads me to a bench among dark bushes. The clearing gives us the perfect view of the giant moon, and in its light, Tristan is even more breathtaking. I’m an average-sized guy, but I feel so tiny when he settles his heavy arm on my shoulders as if it’s the most natural gesture in the world.
“You are not fully yourself right now, Nate. Only your soul and shadow are here. You… died. But fret not!” he adds quickly, even though I instantly ‘fret’. “I have a potion for you, concocted by our royal alchemist. Its powerful properties will help heal your body and bond your soul back to it. This miracle does come at a price. Your shadow. But a new life is alife, and not… death. Right?”
I tighten my hands on the cloak. “What does this mean?”
Tristan passes me a tiny bottle with a strange green liquid as he ponders my question. “It means… You will become a Dark Companion to a shadow wielder on the next full moon. It will be a new life for you here, in the Nightmare Realm. In your role, you will be respected at the Nocturne Court, as your human shadow is a precious commodity.”
I give a soft laugh and unzip my hoodie. The puppy is still scared, I can feel it in the rigidness of its small body, but when it looks out, I pour a few droplets of the potion into my palm and offer it to him. “Your friend didn’t seem to think much of mine.”
Tristan stares at the puppy, suddenly rigid. “Hmm… probably can’t hurt…” he mumbles with a frown. “That was Lorsen Gloombane, also known as thebaneof my existence. He’s the captain of the Nightcloaks and normally acts with more grace. He was tired after a whole day of fighting the current and barely had a look at your lovely shadow.”
Something inside me gleams, because did he just call something about me lovely? People as gorgeous as Tristan don’t really exist, and even if they did, they certainly wouldn’t give me the time of day. But Tristan talks on, unaware of my frantic thoughts.
“More importantly, why do you have a wolf cub?”
“That’s… what?” I mumble, looking down when the sticky, warm tongue laps the potion from my hand. “That’s just a dog.”
“Hm.Dog.” All of a sudden, his frown turns into a giant grin. “I’ve heard of dogs!” He’s wary when he reaches for the puppy, as if he expects it to have razors for teeth. When the tiny muzzle pushes at his fingers, he goes all stiff, only to laugh in delight. “Oh, this beastie couldn’t hurt a fly!” he exclaims, rubbing his thumb over the puppy’s canines.
I choose not to correct him, because the interaction is delightful. I’m about to chug the rest of the bottle when an alarm goes on at the back of my head. “Wait… is this vegan?”
Tristan’s lips part, and he stares at me in a way that suggests he doesn’t understand what I mean.
“Is it made out of plants? Does it contain animal products?”
“Hmm… As far as I know there’s algae, and… things. Maybe… rocks? Shells? Mushrooms? Soul… particles…? Alchemy isn’t really my forte. Please drink it.”
My hands start to sweat, because this is exactly like that time my grandma claimed she made a vegan soup, only to later disclose it was prepared with chicken stock and butter. “I— can’t we find out what’s inside before I drink it?” I ask, hating that I’m making this difficult for him while also desperate to hold on to my principles. I’m such a people pleaser.
Tristan reaches for my hand, and my heart skips a beat when we touch. He has beautiful hands. Large, with long fingers and black polish on his perfectly manicured nails. “Look. Your form is already becoming translucent. It won’t be long now until your soul goes back to your body, and you are dying. Unless you drink this, you might not survive. What happened to you? Did its mother get to you?” He points at the puppy with a knowing frown, but the truth is he doesn’t understandanything.
