Vol.6 Ch.142- Familiar Shadows.

"Wait! You can't just go alone! I'll go with you," Sylvia growled as she crossed her arms across her chest.

I sighed and shook my head, unable to stop my smile. "You act like we are going to war. Besides, it's me and my dad going. Are you going to say you can do a better job than him when you haven't even been able to land a single hit on him these last few months?"

Sylvia puffed her chest out to retort but immediately deflated. She scowled, not really at me, but as she most likely remembered all the previous training sessions she had had with my father. Unlike my mother, who was a pure close-quarters fighter, my father could maintain a healthy distance from Sylvia.

Even his spear gave him the upper hand compared to her Estoc. And when Sylvia did manage to get close, Dad could retreat using shadow magic while also pinning her down. Not to mention he is a capable water and fire mage as well.

Basically, since Sylvia isn't trying to kill him and isn't using her Blood Sorcery, she is at a severe disadvantage. And it's been getting on her nerves. At least she recognized her shortcomings and has been improving lately. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only worried one…

Thankfully Dad was tasked with convincing Mom, but I was left with another person. She watched me in silence, but her amber fox eyes told me everything I needed to know. Even with the way she stood, I could tell she was nervous and didn't want me to go. But a weird feeling tickled my brain.

Huh…I remember when I used to look at Cerila and had no idea what she was thinking…how the times have changed.

<Your turn.> I teased.

Cerila gave me an annoyed look and rolled her eyes, but it flashed into a look of determination. <I will follow close behind you. I can hide easily and—>

I just shook my head. Cerila? Hiding in plain sight? She stuck out quite a bit, given her appearance. I mean, Cerila was nearly as tall as me, and well…she was just who she was. And in a Dark Elf encampment, Cerila would be a beacon of white in a dark sea. Sylvia would have an easier time blending in than Cerila, as she could just pretend to be a random High Elf. Not that it would work much better.

<Thanks for the offer, but Dad and I can handle this. I don't think the Shadow Clan will resort to violence in the first meeting.> I signed.

Sylvia was muttering to herself as she tried to follow along with my signs, but it seemed she was behind and only translated what she wanted to. Her sign language was only in the beginning stages and still needed some work…well, a lot of work.

"Dad…shadow…violence? Violence?!"

She looked at me with angry crimson eyes, and I immediately set to defuse the Vampire bomb that had suddenly been armed. "I said there won't be any violence in the first meeting. I swear. It doesn't make sense for them to attack Dad since I'll be there. Thanks to King Maxwell and my connections to, well… everyone. The Shadow Clan should be well aware of what it means to attack me or anyone in my family."

Sylvia was once again ready to refute, but she backed down again. "I swear if something bad happens, I'm going to kill you."

"Well, if something bad happens, I'll probably be dea—" Sylvia and Cerila both glared at me, so I just stopped talking.

Please save me, Dad. I've made a mistake.

—

"I know we told them everything will be alright but is it really going to be okay?" I asked.

"I believe so. It's as you said, I doubt things will get physical. But if they do, you are not to get involved," Dad said sternly.

"That's not going to happen. If they even—"

Dad's amethyst eyes looked at me from the side. His face was blank, and I even felt a hint of his bloodlust. "Son, that's not a request. I'm telling you to stay out of it."

"I'm not going to leave you behind. I promised to help you when the time came. That time is now," I said firmly.

"Then you'll have to fight me as well. This isn't your battle, Kal. I'll handle things, I promise."

Sigh…he is being awfully stubborn today.

"Then you better be at your best. Taking me out won't be easy," I said light-heartedly.

Dad let a light chuckle escape his lips as he shook his head. "I never knew you to be so disobedient. Maybe I should have been stricter after all."

"It's a bit too late for that. And yeah, you probably should have been—oof."

I glared at the person who abruptly bumped into me on the street. I was confident they did it on purpose as there weren't that many people in between the school and the Old Noble's District. The person was wearing a gray cloak, and I expected some ruffian, but it seemed to be an older Human man.

Really? When he bumped into me, I felt like I hit a wall…

He bowed slightly and smiled at me. He quickly extended his hand and grabbed mine. "I'm so sorry, sir. I wasn't paying attention, and it seemed I bumped into you. I do apologize."

I was about to say something when I felt something get placed into the palm of my hand. It was odd, so I nodded and accepted the man's apology.

Dad raised an eyebrow at me and scanned the street. "Was he blind? How did he even manage to run into you?"

"Good question," I mumbled as I unfolded the paper.

My heart skipped a beat as I read the note, but it settled instantly. We will be close, was all it said. I wasn't expecting a note written in English, but the second I read the sender's name and saw the seal, I knew it to be trusted. That old man must be an agent under Lin or House Paine.

She moves quickly…it's only been a few hours since our conversation with Parhen, but she has already set things up? I wonder if this is a request from the royal family or a personal move from her. Regardless, I'm thankful for her support.

I burned the paper with a bit of fire magic, and the ashes floated off into the winter breeze. Dad gave me a questioning look.

"Just an old paper, sorry."

Dad didn't question me further, and we made our way to the Dark Elf encampment. The Shadow Clan set up shop in what was known as the Old Noble's District. It was an area of the capital that once housed Brax's nobility. But the area was decimated in the fighting between the rebels and city guards.

The Maxwells had declared that this area of the city would be the last to be rebuilt. It was a way to appease the public and show that they cared about the people. And as far as I could tell, they had kept that promise.

Even the entrance to the capital seemed well-maintained and felt new. Of course, there were slums here, but that was bound to happen in any major population center. But this area had almost nothing to it but a single cobbled road leading deeper into the district. Nothing like the fine streets you can find in the capital or even at Forward University.

Many of the houses that still stood were shadows of their former noble selves. They sat dilapidated, snow-covered, and forgotten. Most of them were just piles of rubble, barely in the shape of supporting structures.

The new road that seemed at odds with the surroundings snaked around larger piles of rubble until, eventually, something different came into view. Makeshift wooden walls seemingly sprung up out of nowhere. It was an odd sight, considering how different its surroundings appeared. It was like a fort had been teleported into the middle of a ruined city.

"Is this how it always looked?" I asked.

Despite knowing about this place, I had never had a reason to come here. I hadn't even heard anyone describe what it looked like, so I was curious if it matched what my father once knew.

"Yeah. This was my home…" Dad said solemnly. But the corners of his lips tugged into a kind smile, and he looked over to me. "But it doesn't feel like home anymore."

I just returned his smile. "Are you ready?"

"No. Not really," he admitted bitterly. "I always thought about what I would say to them if I ever saw them again…" Dad trailed off.

"Did you ever come up with an answer?"

He shook his head weakly. "No, I never did. But I guess I'll have to figure it out tonight."

There were no kind of checks at the open gate. Two guards were standing by, but they just watched us pass with wide eyes. And when we entered the encampment, it was… something.

It looked as if a lot of the old stone buildings had been repaired and were in use. Black smoke bellowed out from the gray stone chimneys, and Dark Elves moved around the streets, dipping in and out of buildings and talking amongst each other at stalls. Some homes made of gray wood had popped up in between stone buildings.

It was an odd sight. It was like somebody took an old city and built a new one inside of it. The paths of destroyed cobblestone still lay in disarray in some places, but a well-traveled dirt path, too, was present if needed. The streets were wide as well, probably in reflection of the past owners of this land.

But in a matter of moments, I had seen more Dark Elves than I had seen in my entire life. And unlike High or Wood Elves, they really were bigger than the average Elf. They also all had raven black hair and dark skin. The only fundamental differences came in their faces and their eye colors.

And I was surprised to see a somewhat high number of High Elves running around, but then I remembered what Bowen had told me. I imagined a lot of these High Elves were the first or maybe even second-generation orphans that the Shadow Clan took in during the war. I even saw a handful of Humans and Beastmen. It was just… interesting seeing things flipped for the first time.

I always wondered why I didn't see more Dark Elves moving about the capital, but now I knew why. It was because they had their own little city within a city. There were traders, food markets, a blacksmith, an inn, and even a tailor and such. Outside of working a job or procuring the odd item, many Dark Elves probably didn't have to leave the encampment all that often.

The crown must be supporting them rather well. Or the Shadow Clan is just that resourceful.

However, despite the somewhat quaint small-town atmosphere, it didn't take long for people to begin to stare at us. And they didn't bother hiding their various emotions and reactions as they began to whisper amongst themselves.

Some looked on in pure shock or admiration as they saw my father. A man even took a knee and bowed his head on the street. Some looked at me with confusion or even the occasional grunt of disgust as they glared at me. But for every glare, there was someone with wide eyes. They looked at me with a mixture of thankfulness and awe.

I imagined, for many people, I was an anomaly, a freak of sorts. As far as anyone knows, I'm the first half-Dark Elf ever to exist. Someone like me shouldn't be possible. Also, just to pour salt in the wound, I'm half-High Elf.

I could see that many, many of the people bore scars on their dark skin just like that Dark Elf woman in Nactus. The women and the men seemed to possess equally hardened stares. The war may have ended thirty-one years ago, but for an Elf, that might seem like just yesterday.

Although there were High Elves, Humans, and Beastmen living there in the encampment, they had probably been here since they were children or were lovers of a Dark Elf. I'm sure many people harbored hatred for High Elves from the war. And as for me? I was everything they hated and were confused about in one Elf package.

Yet…many recognize me as their savior. That much I can see.

A mother holding a small bundle in her arms that was her child looked at me with teary eyes as she nodded her head profusely. I could hear her whimpers of thanks from here. Despite my abnormal existence, it was also true that I had received the credit for saving these people, albeit indirectly.

It's no surprise what would have happened if Qylrenth the Chaos Dragon had arrived in the capital. The Dark Elves were strong warriors. But they wouldn't have stood a chance against an adult Dragon. So this encampment, along with all of its people, would have perished alongside the capital.

I looked up at my father to see his reaction, but he had hardened his expression. His eyes were downcast. Perhaps for him, the feelings were even more complicated. Unlike me, who couldn't name a single person in these streets, Dad was connected to these people. He had been with them and fought alongside many of them for nearly his entire life. Yet it appeared as if he had abandoned them for selfish reasons.

Once more, I don't blame my father for his decision. On the contrary, I'm thankful for it even. If he hadn't made such a choice almost thirty-one years ago, perhaps my life would have never come to be. And honestly, if I were in his shoes, I probably would have made a similar choice. I can only hope that he doesn't regret it.

No…I don't think Dad has any regrets regarding that. If anything, he probably feels terrible for leaving these people behind.

I followed Dad by his side as I had yet to learn where we were supposed to be heading. Then, as if Dad had read my mind, his eyes looked over at me. "We are stopping someplace first. There is someone I need to meet before we see my father."

"I understand."

We kept walking, and as we went further into the camp, the buildings gradually faded away. Large piles of rubble were neatly placed and in stark contrast to the more common architecture of Luminar, brown tents began to show up. Some were small, probably barely large enough to fit a family of four, while the ones further in the back looked to be grander.

There was one in particular that seemed almost extravagant for a tent. A deep black and purple stitched tent replaced the brown leather of the latter tents. But Dad didn't head there. Instead, he took a sharp right and went down a different path.

We arrived at another brown tent. It was about half the size of the large tent from just a moment ago, which meant it could probably hold about forty or so people. But there was a significant difference. This tent surrounded what looked to be a structure made of clay. Its reddish-brown color rose above the brown tent, almost like a chimney with no smoke.

A guard was standing in front of the tent. He wore armor similar to my father's but lacked the opulence and gemstones that my father's had, which meant he was probably a Shadowdancer. His large pitch-black spear rested on his shoulder, and his green eyes slowly grew in size as he looked at Dad and me. Dad stopped a few paces in front of the guard and tilted his head slightly.

"Onoso? Is that you?" Dad asked.

The man looked on in disbelief. "Chief…Shadowheart? Is that really you?" the man asked in disbelief.

Dad smiled fondly. "You've grown a bit. The last time I saw you, you could barely swing a training spear. To think you would become a Shadowdancer in such a short amount of time, congratulations."

The man blinked again and rubbed his eyes. He opened them again and shook his head. "I heard the rumors, but I thought nothing of them..why have you returned? Is—"

"I would enjoy catching up with you, but my time is short. I imagine you will learn more soon enough," my dad said, interrupting his line of questions. "Now then, may I see the Shamans?"

The man winced slightly and looked over his shoulder. "You know—"

"I'm aware one can not just see them on their own accord. However, this is a special occasion." Dad put a hand on my shoulder. "My son's coming of age is soon. I would like to speak with Master Alzidi. You understand the importance, right?"

Onoso looked me up and down. His eyes naturally fell on my ears. The man was a bit taller than me, and he was built like a brick house. But his face was kind, and he smiled sincerely with his eyes.

"Your son…I see. Congratulations," he said to me. Then he looked nervously at my dad. "And uh, you won't say anything to anyone, right? Chief?"

Dad grinned. "Of course not."

The man's eyes went even wider. He blinked a few more times and just chuckled to himself. "I guess a family really does change a man," he said while opening the tent entrance for us and beckoning us inside.

I scanned the room, but there wasn't much to see. It was just a tiny antechamber-type setup. There were various rugs and animal pelts on the floor, as well as what seemed like pillows. Dad motioned to one of the yellow pillows.

"Sit down. It won't take me but a moment."

I nodded and sat with my legs crossed on the pillow. Dad looked at me with a grin. "You are supposed to sit on your knees, but I guess that works."

"That seems uncomfortable," I grumbled.

Dad chuckled softly and parted the entrance to go deeper into the tent. Shouts of surprise echoed in the tents, and I could hear loud gasps. I even heard someone scream, "he's really here!" It seemed like a very different reunion compared to the others.

Is Dad closer to these Shamans or something? Come to think of it, I've never heard of Dark Elf Shaman before. Are they some special rank within the clan?

The tent opening parted, and someone briskly walked in. I let out a surprised breath of air as I took in the young woman. She wore a black and silver dress that was more tribal than anything. Her dark skin had silver tattoos or paint on them, and some were even on her face. But what surprised me the most was her hair.

Hers wasn't black, no, it was a bright silver color, almost like a gunmetal gray. It flowed down her shoulders and was quite long, almost to mid-chest. In my entire time in this camp, I hadn't seen a single Dark Elf with silver hair before. As far as I knew, Dallin was the only Dark Elf with hair that was not black. Yet this girl's hair was clearly different. Was it perhaps dyed?

And…she looks familiar…

The girl sat on her knees a little ways away from me and extended her arms. She was holding a wooden cup, but the length in which she sat away from me made it awkward. Her arms couldn't quite reach me…

So I just met her halfway and accepted the cup. The young girl had kept her eyes closed the entire time, and I had a passing thought that perhaps she was blind, but when she tried to stand up, she wobbled awkwardly. Of course, a person that was born blind wouldn't struggle to move like that. And yet…the more I looked at her face, the more familiar she looked.

The girl made a hasty retreat, but I called out to her. "Sededa, is that you?"

She flinched when I spoke and didn't immediately leave. Instead, she hesitated but let out a deep sigh and looked over her shoulder. Her smoke-gray eyes looked at me apologetically.

It really was Sededa. I hadn't spoken to her in ages, ever since Bastion Ball, and it wasn't even my fault. I had reached out to talk to her, but she either flat-out ignored me or gave me an excuse before I could even ask her about the weather. Eventually, I just gave up entirely because I felt that it wasn't worth my time. I even played with the idea that her cousin, Terstus, had ordered her not to speak to me.

Come to think of it. If Terstus is my cousin, then Sededa is likely as well.

"I uh…it's good to see you?" I said, knowing full well that I sounded awkward.

Sededa averted her eyes, and a deep frown formed on her face. It was weird, considering even her eyebrows were silver as well. "So—sorry…I'm sorry…" she muttered.

Huh?

"Sorry about what? What is there to be sorry about?" I asked.

"You don't have to pretend, Vo—I mean Kaladin…I know you are mad at me."

Now I was baffled. Why would I be mad at her? Does she know something that I don't? Maybe it had something to do with Dad?

Sededa went into a deep bow. "I'm sorry for throwing the Bastion Ball game!" she shouted.

I just blinked at her. I suppose I did think that she purposely threw the game, but honestly, I didn't care back then, and not much had changed since then. It was just a silly game. If anything, I had fun playing with her and everyone else.

They felt like… simpler times. Back when I was still getting used to Forward University and Class Onward. When I was still Voker Winterheart, the masked High Elf, and not Kaladin Shadowheart, the Dragon Slayer, Mila wasn't in the picture yet, and my family seemed so far away at the time.

"Sededa, I'm really not mad at you. Not even a little bit, I promise," I told her.

Despite my words, Sededa remained in a bow. Her long silver hair draped down and swayed side to side as she shook her head. "But I purposely threw the game! I'm sorry…I was told to do it on purpose…to make Lauren and Ren look bad."

Ah, now I remember.