Water pooled at our feet, falling from its sky and seeping thick down its walls. The more I thought of the Bringer, bleeding and broken at the bottom of the pond, the faster the water rose. I shoved the memory of him away, fighting for control of the globe’s form, and the water slowed to a stop.
But as the water stilled, the dark drew nearer, tugging at my hair and crawling spiderlike down my throat. And with the dark came unspeakable thoughts. Visions of sobbing mothers with terrified childrenclinging to their arms. A village armed with smoking torches and bloody mouths. Noblemen dreaming peacefully in beds carved from the bones of the less fortunate.
Erebus stood silent and wide-eyed beside me, experiencing visions of his own.
“Erebus, look at me.”
Erebus worked his mouth open and shut, but no words came.
“No one is made for the dark. You mightcontrolthe dark, but it isn’t your purpose. Nor your essence,” I said.
Shadows burst in from all directions, swirling up in a thick, bubbling fog. They began to obscure Erebus from me, as though they were set on eating him alive.
“What do you know?” Erebus finally shouted, whirling to face me. “The dark listens, and I listen back. It knows me better than anyone.” He showed me his hand. Even as the shadows obscured him, they danced around his fingertips. They were beautiful, in their own way, shimmering faintly with small flecks of light. “My power scares people,” he said, lowering his voice. “It scared my mother and father. It scares you, too. You’re afraid of me.”
Erebus stood tall, daring me to say otherwise.
My heart broke for him and his distorted view of himself. How could the dark be someone’s purpose? Why did it linger around Erebus—around a boy who should have been safe in a Weaver-crafted dream and not rotting in a demon’s stomach?
I held myself as he did, bold and unwavering. “I’m not afraid,” I said, meeting his defiant glare. “I’ve seen the dark, too. I’ve lived in it.”
As a child, I spent days adventuring in the Visstill. I enjoyed reading by the barn and delighting in the reckless joy of a season without Corruption. There were beautiful days in my childhood. But after Eden’s death, the shadows stretched higher as the sun dipped beneath the trees it once smiled upon. I remembered the circle of torchlight, wavering in the long nights when the elixir supply was down to its final dregs. I remembered the desperation forming in my father’s eyes. The rage inmy mother’s. The fear in my brother’s. Perhaps I ran from the shadows for too long, repulsed by how they whispered to me, linking me to the Shadow Bringer.
But that was a mistake.
The Shadow Bringer’s life was wrought with darkness, but that didn’t take away his admirable qualities. He was clever. Imaginative. Unflinching even in the face of despair. Powerful despite centuries spent in a looping nightmare. Maybe the Bringer’s shadows were beautiful; maybe mine could be, too. Perhaps I didn’t need to flinch from my past or my darkness as though they were shameful cloaks to be stuffed away.
I could bravely wrap them around my shoulders and be free.
“Knowing the dark doesn’t make you a monster,” I continued, assured in what I was saying. What I was trying to make himsee. “It’s what you do in the darkness—and how you rise to overcome it—that matters.”
“You’re lying,” Erebus accused, taking a step back. “No oneknows what it’s like to live in the dark. Not the way I do.” His eyes brightened in the fog. “You’re not really here, are you? I imagined you to protect myself.”
I reached for his hand, just as he began to melt into the dark.
“Erebus,no,” I insisted, begging him to stay.
“If my purpose is evil, then what good am I?” he said. At this point, he was nearly gone. His limbs were caught in the shadows, half-eaten. “Where do I belong if I’m a monster? Nobody loves or protects me. Perhaps my mother and father did, once, but they’re dead now.”
Lunging, I managed to grab his arm. The shadows retreated at the contact. As his shadows overlapped, folding in and out, their light—just a handful of tiny shimmers a moment before—grew strong. “Just because there’s darkness, it doesn’t mean all the light is gone. Look—see? And you do have somebody, Erebus. You have me.”
And I have you, too.
“I…” Erebus began to whisper something but stopped, watching the light dance within the shadows. Together the twin energies radiatedfrom his hands, blanketing the pit. The heavy fog disappeared, replaced by a sea of stars.
Together, we looked in awe at the transformation.
Soft, twinkling light came to rest upon Erebus’s face, illuminating his hesitant wonder. Slowly, his desperation faded. Slowly, his breathing quieted.
“I never knew,” he whispered, lifting his arms. At his call, some shadows dropped, coiling elegantly around his shoulders and forming a cloak on his back. Others tangled in his hair, shaping into a loose crown. Power radiated from him, wild and true. “I thought the dark was a terrible thing. But this feels different. I can control it.” More firmly, he repeated, “I can control it.”
The sides of the demon’s pit began to splinter and crack.
“These walls aren’t going to last much longer,” I observed, sidestepping a piece of the globe as it fell. “I don’t know what will become of us if that happens, or if we can still escape. But we need to try.”
Erebus turned to me. His eyes were burning. “I’m going to rip us straight from the demon’s stomach. I swear it.”
From the ferocity in his expression, I believed him. “Good. Then the beast won’t be able to hurt anyone ever again.”Nor will it continue to hunt me, my family, and the Shadow Bringer.
