James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

"What is he doing?" she asked, indicating the man.

Jin’s cheerful expression slipped a little.

"He is… not one of us," he said slowly. "We don’t know who he is. Sometimes he’s here for days, just staring into the light. Then he’ll be gone for a few days, or a week, or a month. No-one ever sees him arrive, and no-one sees him leave." He frowned as he gazed at the motionless man. "The Shadraehin calls him the Watcher. I get the impression the Shadraehin knows more about him than the rest of us, but…" He shrugged.

Asha frowned. "I take it nobody talks to him?"

Jin shook his head. "Nobody can get that close to the light, and live. Not even Shadows." He shuffled his feet. "Whoever - whatever - he is, Lissa, I would stay clear of him."

Asha nodded, shivering slightly as she tore her gaze from the black-cloaked figure.

They started walking again, and soon the unsettling sight was blocked by a row of well-made houses, all built from stone.

"Got a new one, Jin?"

Asha turned to see a man smiling genially at them. He looked slightly older than Jin - was one of the oldest Shadows she’d ever encountered, then, and probably amongst the first to fail his Trials after the Treaty was signed. He stuck out his hand. "I’m Parth."

Asha shook Parth’s hand. "I’m… Lissa," she said, only stumbling over the name a little this time.

"I had to stop Lissa from attacking an Administrator with her bare hands today," Jin told Parth with a grin. "I figured she could probably handle seeing this place."

Parth grinned back as Asha blushed. "Good for you," he said approvingly. Then he laughed. "Though it’s probably for the best that Jin stopped you. You’re new to being a Shadow, I take it?"

Asha nodded. "It’s been about a month."

Parth gave her a sympathetic smile. "It gets easier." He gestured at their surroundings. "Especially when there are those who are willing to help, and somewhere to get away from it all."

Asha nodded. "I can see that," she said. "So you decided to live down here?"

Parth shook his head, sobering a little. "Wasn’t really much of a decision. See the boy in the green top, third row from the front?" He pointed towards the group of children in the school. Asha quickly located the child, a curly-haired boy who couldn’t have been older than four. She nodded.

"That’s my son, Sed."

Asha’s brow furrowed as she studied Sed, along with all the other children. None of them had marks on their faces. "Being a Shadow isn’t inherited?" she asked eventually.

"Our children are able to survive down here, so we think something must be passed on," conceded Parth. "Otherwise? Not as far as we, or anyone else, can tell. That’s why we’re here. Administration don’t want non-Shadows being raised by Shadows."

Asha stared at him in disbelief. "But he’s your son."

Parth gave a resigned shrug. "If you’re a Shadow, and someone - anyone - else isn’t, Administration will do what they believe is in the best interests of the person who isn’t," he said quietly. "Remember that, and you shouldn’t be surprised by much."

He sighed, glancing over his shoulder and then turning to Jin. "I have to go and help Feseith, but if you’ve got time before you leave, drop by and see Shana. Maybe you can stay for dinner." He clapped the other man on the back. "But if not, it was good to see you again. And it was very nice to meet you, Lissa." He nodded to them both, and then was on his way.

Jin seemed to be on good terms with most of the Sanctuary’s occupants, and they were stopped for several other friendly conversations after that. As Asha heard more stories, she began to understand why these Shadows had taken refuge underground. Many had children in the same situation as Parth. There was a woman who had been working at House Tel’Shan, and had left to escape the too-close attentions of Lord Tel’Shan’s younger son. One man had lost fingers after being attacked on the street by a drunken soldier; he’d been immediately thrown out by his employer, and now could not find work anywhere. A few others were simply looking for relief from the constant hatred of those in the city above, searching for a sense of community.

And yet all of them seemed happy, now. Free. Asha watched them as they talked, and found herself more than a little envious.

Time passed; it was hard to tell exactly how much, but Asha suspected it was at least a few hours later when she and Jin found their way to Parth’s house. Parth was still elsewhere but Shana, his wife, turned out to be a bubbly young woman who immediately insisted they stay for dinner. Soon they were seated in the kitchen, chatting amiably as they waited for Parth to arrive.

Asha smiled as she leaned back, enjoying both the conversation and the cosiness of the room, which had old but comfortable furniture and a fire crackling in the hearth. It felt like an eternity since she’d been able to sit down somewhere safe and warm and just enjoy other people’s company. To relax .

"Lord si’Bandin wasn’t too happy about our being together," Shana was saying, her back to them as she started preparing dinner. "That made it tricky for us, especially back then. He tried getting Administration involved at first, but they weren’t too interested at that stage. And then we -"

She turned to face them.

Her eyes went wide, focusing over Asha’s shoulder. The pot she’d been holding clattered to the floor, and a second later she let out an ear-piercing shriek.

Asha and Jin both leapt to their feet, spinning to see what Shana was so afraid of.

A man stood in the doorway; Asha’s stomach lurched as she took in the black cloak and the deep, face-concealing hood.

The man she’d seen before. The Watcher.

There was a scuffling sound as Shana fled through the back entrance. Jin’s face had gone deathly white, and he started to edge in the same direction, indicating Asha should as well. She started to move around the table.

"Halt." The man’s voice sent a chill down Asha’s spine. It was deep, whispery. Old.

Not quite human.

Then it turned to Jin. "Leave us. I must talk with this one."

Jin swallowed, looking for all the world as though he wanted to do as the stranger had said, but he shook his head. "I’m not leaving Lissa alone."

"As you wish."

It happened in an instant. The figure glided forward, faster than Asha would have believed possible. Its hand flicked out, and suddenly it was holding something dark and insubstantial. Little more than a shadow, but elongated and shaped. An ethereal blade.

It sliced silently across Jin’s neck.

Jin stared at the man in disbelief, hands frantically trying to seal up the gaping wound in his throat. Blood, red and bright, seeped out between his fingers.

Then he collapsed, a bubbling gasp the only sound he could make as he died.

Asha watched in mute horror, her limbs leaden as fear paralysed her. The black-cloaked man - if it truly was a man - turned to her, ignoring the corpse at his feet.

"Do not run, Ashalia Chaedris," he said, his voice raising the hairs on the back of Asha’s neck.

Asha gritted her teeth and nodded, sinking back into her seat, trying not to look at the growing pool of crimson on the floor. "What do you want with me?" she whispered, fear making her voice catch.

"I wish to know if you are here to kill me."

Asha blinked, then forced her gaze up. She couldn’t see beneath the man’s hood, but she could feel his eyes on her.

"No." She shook her head slowly, clenching her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. "No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"Because your presence marks the beginning. It means death is coming, for all of us. It has been Seen," said the man quietly.