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The sound of celebration roared from outside. I had been wrong in thinking my constituents would fear the return of something they did not understand. No, in fact, they had reveled in it. I was the Divine, the Mother reincarnate. I was the Sage Risen, and I had freed not only myself with my great sacrifices, but many others who had once barely dared to breathe for fear of my sister’s vengeance. What they failed to understand, was how much of her still lived in me.
They were not the only ones who misunderstood. Upon entering the landing of the Well, I was surrounded by the emissaries and high-ranking Guardians of my court before the tailwind of our projection died out. Men and women I had come of age with, who stood beside me as I was crowned Preserver,and who I could now only recognize through the hazed mirage of my memory. They had not seen or heard of me for almost seventy-three years and were rightfully elated at my return.
Until they saw the black curls of smoke under my skin, striped up my wrists to the bend of my arms. I was happy when they drew back, thankful that they were smart enough to be wary. But that joy was short-lived.
Whenever a sudden mood burst from me, caused by my sister still residing somewhere within, my court decided it was better to offer counsel than to stand at alarm. One night at dinner, an ember caught in the hearth, forcing a burst of white light through the room. I screamed, and my Shadows shot out from my hands as I gripped the table, leaving us all in an obsolete darkness. Wine spilled, tableware clattered, and guests at our tables screamed. One server had been so badly frightened they’d wet themselves, before passing out cold on the dining room floor. When the room was lit—by candle, not my magic—I stared into the row of ashen faces at the table.
Rebekah spoke up first. “You are through the worst,” she said, taking my hand in hers from her seat across the table. I had been happy to find her alive and had elevated her to a small position on my court sorting out refugee affairs. She indeed was a phame and had no trouble adjusting to the gossip of politics.
“You have conquered the Shadow,” an emissary chimed in from the back of the room. Others murmured their support and gave frantic nods. “The force of your Light will reign in the darkness that mixes with your blood. It will take some time. But soon you will be stronger for it.”
The others at the table agreed and handed out pats on my back like I was a child in need of encouragement. All the while, I knew that they watched me when I was not looking. They saw the deep smudges beneath my eyes and the way I flinched whenever someone moved too quickly. They watched me, andthen they pretended I was okay. For my sake, they would tell themselves. And then they would whisper to their friends about how broken I was. Like I couldn’t hear the thoughts in their minds before they ever spoke a word. Like I wouldn’t know what I had becomeunless they pointed it out to me.
But here in the quiet isolation I’d made for myself, I felt the change in myself. A change not due to the grief for my twin or the grief for my life as it once had been. I was not sad about any of that. No, sad was not the right word. I was angry.
Black. Cold. Anger. So desolate a feeling, the waters of it rushed far above my head, ready to drown me. A door inside me opened—cracked, really. And through that crack spilled power, potent and intoxicating as it bubbled and swelled. With the grit of my teeth, I bared down on that strange feeling and threw my head back in ecstasy as it surged through my wrists. This was what Melany had meant when she said the Light was a gift. So was the Shadow.
The world faded away, the Well crumbled to the ground at my feet, and I stood on top of that rubble, triumphant. It was so dark and so delicious, that I could barely make out the memory of amber flecks in Kalen’s eyes that had always tethered me to my humanity. It was all gone. I would fill this entire court with the feeling that leeched from my palms, I would swallow them all into a perpetual night and I would scream into their hollowed faces, “Is this the strength that you have waited for?” I would bring death upon the dawn. And it felt so good to be what everyone said I should not.
A quiet knock at the door jolted me, and I clamped down on that murderous feeling until the darkness reached out only far enough to blanket me. The gilded knob turned and the door swung open slowly. Timidly, Kalen peeked into the room. I could barely make him out, but that Light in his eyes was clear to me still. He scanned my face, too, and only at the barest nod of myhead did he finally enter.
With just his presence alone the space began to lighten, little by little, until it almost seemed normal again. In the corner, the porcelain blue teacups began to gloss their reflections, and the wool lounge in the corner was colored heather grey. Heat rushed to my chest. I was ashamed. Kalen knew that, which is why he said nothing. Waiting on me. Waiting for me.
“I don’t know who I am,” I said finally, letting loose the hold on my Shadow just enough to wisp it from the tips of my fingers. “I don’t knowwhatI am.”
Kalen’s eyes were filled with sorrow I did not deserve. I was almost sick of it. Hearing my thoughts, my second in command came to sit beside me. I had wanted him to keep the title he earned, and I was thankful that some of the Light had stayed with him despite my return. He was thankful that my truth was the only one he could hear anymore.
I couldn’t say I wasn’t jealous Kalen was spared everyone else’s thoughts when I was not. It became a delicate balance for me, hearing the Truth so plainly as I had before while trying not to accidentally Shadow it whenever I dove into someone’s mind. I had been silently oscillating sparks of gold in between the dark mist when Kalen finally spoke again.
“The ShadowLight,” he said.
“What?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly, it was such a whisper.
“That is what they are calling you now. The ShadowLight.”
I scoffed. “Seems rather contrary to itself, now doesn’t it?”
“It’s not contrary,” he said, tucking a strand of golden hair behind his ears. “It’s just...aware.”
“Aware of what, exactly?” I couldn’t help the snarl that pulled back my lips.
Kalen turned to me, gesturing wide with his hands as he tried to explain, and tried not to take notice of the room as it darkenedonce more. “Aware,” he said, “that one only exists because of the other. Without the Light, we would never have the Shadow.”
Oh, how Melany would have loved to hear that. A dying wish, for her to know that though I’d beat her, she would have an eternity of watching me descend into infamy. I looked sideways at Kalen and snapped, “Now I am to be the thing that people will blame for the darkness?”
“That’s not what I am saying...” he began.
“Then what do you say?”
Kalen let out a deep sigh. Not exactly a sound of resignation, but he was definitely cross. “Do you know why we pray the way we do?” he spoke, avoiding my question. “Let the shadows be your place of rest. For blessed are we who live in them.”
No actually. I didn’t know why the prayer said that, had never understood it. In fact, for years after the Prayer was written, by a man who disappeared shortly afterward, that line had been the inspiration of my paranoia. The subtle nod to my sister was the reason I had trained so ruthlessly with my Guardians, prepared and over-prepared for an attack from within.
Kalen stood and reached for my unshadowed hand. I gave it to him grudgingly. The least I owed him was compliance.
“We say that because those of us who are not so blessed to be gods...” His rolling eyes stilled and became fixed on me before he continued. “We will meet our deaths one day.” I began to interject, but Kalen silenced me with a finger against my lips. “Even as an immortal, it is promised. But in the Light faction, it is believed that we will find peace in that darkness.”
Kalen summoned the Light from my palm, pulling it through the air to shine upon his hand. At the back wall, the perfect image of the two of us, my body frigid next to his, the tilt of my head toward my hand which was encapsulated by Shadow. Isaw clearly the point he was trying to make. That we, like many things, were just obstacles.
