Ascension

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Chapter 1: Shadow Sight

The endless black of purgatory consumed me. Chains unseen bound my limbs, my flesh burned, I was immobile. I will always remember choking as I struggled to breathe through the dense fog that flooded my lungs. For days I lie, unable to notice the passing of time.

“Kayra above! A Fae.” Fae. That sounds wrong. A poor farmer had found me, and brought me to his hutch muttering prayers under his breath to ward off the evil eye. Although he placed salve on my eyes, and I could feel the skin repairing, the dark remained. The man did not know that I had never been Fae. Knife ears. I remembered.

Over the days I learned to stand. I did not speak. I learned to take timid steps, to map the space around me in my mind to navigate. On the thirteenth day, shadows began to appear. The shadows flowed across the black abyss, soft tendrils that caressed the air. These glowing tendrils radiated and formed shape, the outline of a man before me. A table off to the left, the small bed I had been occupying in my recovery to the right. I could sense the air on the other side of the wall, the glowing outline of bushes in the distance. A bunny thumped a danger warning to its family. There was no colour, no light. I was in the shadow world.

“Lass, you have no pupils!” The man exclaimed, as I finally opened my eyes. I said nothing. I knew what my eyes looked like. The solid, radiating silver depths devoid of all colour, and without pupil. Rumored to absorb the soul of those I preyed upon. As they said in the village. I saw the shape of the man lower in the corner, his fingers crossed in front of him, raised towards me.

“Get Out, Demon!” He growled. His eyes darted towards a silver claymore larger than I am tall mounted on the wall. His fingers twitched.

I clenched my jaw, dug my nails into the palms of my hands. I had not been outside in two weeks, my bandages had only just been removed. I would not cower before this man, I would not give him the satisfaction of reacting. I nodded at the man, raising my palms towards him to demonstrate I meant no harm. I moved towards the outline of the bed, and lowered my right hand to feel along the surface until I gripped the quilt. I wrapped it around my shoulders, and stepped towards a faint outline of the large sword. I gripped the hilt of the claymore with both hands, the metal seemed to pulse beneath my fingers. With all of my strength, I yanked pulling the ancient sword from the walls. The heavy tip thunked against the ground of the hutch, my shoulders trembled with the effort. Dragging the sword with me I moved towards the door.

The man had moved toward his counter, and he gripped a knife that lie in the open. He moved to stand between me and the door. His lips curled in a snarl, his arm raised pointing the blade in my direction. His hands were trembling.

“Leave it!” He growled, his feet planted slightly apart in a soldier’s stance.

I took a deep breath to calm my trembling figure. Recognizing my hesitation he darted forward, knife raised. As the blade descended towards me, I could see the currents of the air rushing away from the blade as the object moved through space. I twisted to the left, the blade grazing the flesh of my shoulder. Hissing, I felt the familiar sweet pull of the spirit rising up within me. With preternatural speed, I rushed the figure. Easily the blade lifted, my left palm first slamming him back against the frame of the door and my right pointing the edge of the claymore directly against is carotid artery.

“How can you lift that with one hand?” The man gasped and his trembling increased.

“I owe you a life, my debt is repaid, but your time is near.” The multi-layered spirit infused voice asserted.

With that I shoved the man out of the way. I gripped the handle of the door and pulled it open, gazing at the expanse of emerald fields and rolling hills bathed in the light of Selene’s Orb. I took one last look at the cowering figure in the corner, gripped the sword in both hands, and stepped out into the night.

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