Death Denying, Fate Sundering: A Shadow Slave Story

Dancing lights of the far-off central city reflected in Edrien's eyes, dark depths born from years of living on the outskirts of the City giving them a melancholic look.

He glanced at his visage reflected in murky puddles of rainwater, taking notice of the dark circles around his eyes and the stress lines in the corner of his lips despite his young age. His white skin shone in the moonlight of the night, contrasting with the surrounding shadows, as if he himself was warding them off.

Edrien sighed, and turned his head sideways, taking a glance at the woman standing not far away. Strange emotions ran through him whenever he looked at her, but on this day, they seemed so much stronger.

The woman in question had long black hair, and alabaster skin white as snow, the contrast between the two giving off an otherworldly presence. But all of that was overwhelmed by the suffocating sharpness radiating from her eyes, bright red like blood.

A normal human would have instinctively covered in front of this dangerous feeling, but Edrien has long since been used to it. Everything about the woman only received a raised eyebrow, a quirk of lips, and a faint smile from him.

"So, Morgan, don't you think it's time you tell me why we are here?"

The woman turned her head to him, instead of continuing to observe the streets below, and with a melodic tint in her voice answered him.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to ask you what you see here. What do you think of this place?"

Edrien thought about her question, and despite its simplicity, he hesitated to answer. Conversing with Morgan was never a straight affair. Especially when she is in one of her moods.

"Poverty, despair, anger. Humans were reduced to little more than beasts, all so that they could survive one more night. One more hopeless day."

Morgan didn't seem to be surprised by his answer, but then again, not much can give her a genuine surprise nowadays. Ever since she became a master, Edrien noticed her temper cooling down, her becoming more cunning and calculated in response to the expectations heaped on her shoulders. One of the things that disappeared first was the genuine and free smile she wore whenever around him.

"Hmmm, that's it? All of this," Margan swept her hand, indicating ruined buildings and blood-stained paths. "Just so that some people could live one more day?"

Edrien, of course, understood what she meant. Why struggle against death, if maybe, living was the true torture? If death was the true rest that no one knew.

"No. Of course not. If despair and anger were all there is, these outskirts wouldn't house more than a quarter of the population of this city. It's the hope that things might change for the better if they live just for one more day. It's hope that makes them struggle. It's hope that gives them strength."

Edrien sighed when he said that. When he was young, well, younger than he is now, he always thought that hope was such a wonderful thing. It seemed like some magical force, comparable to the Spell itself, that gave humans that extra bit of strength to carry on.

But when he got older, he realized that it was the most insidious emotion of all. It was hope that killed his parents, it was hope that doomed thousands of people to struggle and torture themselves with false preconceived notions every day.

Morgan's lips quirked, and a sparkle appeared in her red eyes.

Edrien noticed her expression and smirked himself.

"You didn't answer my question, though. What are we doing here?"

He felt Morgan sigh more than he heard it, and her next words chilled him more than the faint breeze of cold wind.

"Because I don't want you to succumb to the Spell."

Edrien was speechless for a minute or so. Then he blinked a couple of times and laughed.

"Heh, me? Succumb to the spell. What? Do you think I won't be able to overcome my first nightmare? I've been trained since I could walk, the status of Legacy is not wasted on me Morgan, as you should know."

Morgan smiled and shook her head.

"No, you silly. I just...I'm just worried. The Spell can be unpredictable at the best of times. You might be inserted into a body so different from your current one that all that martial training you've gone through would become useless. Maybe you will encounter a situation where all you can do is rely on your fortune. Even the best-prepared Legacies die in their first nightmare. I just wanted to show you that even if people from these slums can survive their first nightmare by relying on hope and determination, so can you. "

Edrien listened to her with a small smile. When Morgan finished speaking, he shook his head and looked her dead in the eye.

"I know that. You could even say that I know that better than most. But Morgan, it seems you forgot one thing about me."

When Morgan lifted her brow, asking him to continue, Edrien seemed to shift to another person in bearing.

Gone was the exhausted, but carefree aura from him. Gone was the slight smile of the mischief constantly present on his face.

All that remained was a boy, no, a man, unbroken and unshaken by the years of brutal training and even more animalistic punishments received from failing that training.

"I'm the most spiteful son of a bitch you will ever meet. And if the spell tries to fuck with me, I'll ream it back twice as much."

Silence stretched between the two humans for a while after those words, until suddenly they both started to laugh.

"Oh, Edrien. Thanks. I needed that. At least now I won't worry so much. Anyways, are you ready to go back? You must be close to your limit."

Edrien stopped chuckling and stole one last glance at the distant lights of the central city, and the poorly lit streets of the outskirts down below him.

"Yeah, let's go back."