NOVEL NEXT Chapter 7: Shadows and Secrets
It became increasingly cold in the chamber as hollow-eyed apparition gazed at Liam. Clara was raising her bow instinctively, but the figure did not budge. It glided slowly, its robes whispering against the stone floor as one carried by an invisible breeze.
"Stay back," Clara ordered in a soft and steady voice despite her body betraying the fact that she was not that relaxed. The arrow poised herself for anything.
The figure raised a hand-not in hostility but as if to calm them. Ethereally filled with sorrow, its voice emerged like that of a whisper carried on wind.
"You cannot fight me. I am not your enemy," it said, and the voice reverberated through the whole chamber. "I am Keeper of shadows; it is a fragment of the past left behind to guard secrets of this place."
Liam glanced at Clara and said, "What do you want?" Taking a half step forward.
Its hollow gaze rested on him, and in one moment, Liam felt as if his very soul were bared to it. With a hand gesture, it indicated an old ornate pedestal that stood above the ground, in the middle of the room. On that pedestal sat a marginally small, black orb, pulsing dark light feebly as it did so.
"This is the Heart of Shadows," the Keeper said. "This holds the very essence of this floor's darkness; it is a key that will unlock the labyrinth door for you. But to claim it, you must prove your worth."
"What kind of proof?" Clara asked, narrowing her eyes.
The Keeper turned, robes swirling; it had raised its hand and gestured toward the walls of the chamber.
The shadows had begun to twist and writhe, creating figures-dark duplicates Liam and Clara-behind their respective shadows. The shadow versions of themselves stepped forward, distorted, flickering as a reflection in a broken mirror.
Liam gripped his dagger tightly as his shadow-self drew closer, the unfamiliar sight causing him unease. The version of himself twisted and warped in appearance, framing exaggerated features and becoming cruel. The shadow's eyes burned in cold and unfeeling malice, while the stance reflected an almost perfect imitation of Liam, as if anticipating every movement he made.
While doing the above, Clara was squaring off against her own shadow with a dark, mutated version of her bow wielded in an opposite fashion with the grace of a predator: circling her like a wolf stalking its prey.
"Liam," Clara said, not taking her eyes off her opponent. "These things-they're not just copies. They're... different."
He nodded, and just as quickly, the shadow-self lunged for Liam. He dodged at the last second, rolling to the side, just as the shadow dagger slashed the air where he had recently been standing.
Every move Liam made was totally calculated and predicted by the shadow itself. When he swung his dagger, it would parry with ease. When he attempted a feint, there was no chance that it would even consider it. It was like fighting someone who knew him best - better than he even knew himself.
Across the room, Clara unleashed an arrow at her shadow, but the dark figure moved with an inhuman speed and unleashed an arrow of its own back at her. Clara barely ducked in time; the projectile barely whizzed over her head and shattered against the far wall.
"They learned our moves!" Clara shouted, frustration creeping into her voice.
Liam set his jaw and tried to concentrate. The shadow lunged at him again, dagger slicing toward his chest. He raised his own weapon to block but was sent stumbling backward from the impact.
As he steadied himself, the Keeper's voice echoed in his mind.
"You cannot beat them with physical strength," it said.
"They are a reflection of your fears, your doubts, your darkness. To overcome them, you must confront what lies in you."
Liam's mind spun. His fears? His doubts? He recalled the chaos of the first floor, that uncertainty which had plagued him since he set foot in the tower. The fear of failure, of not being strong enough, of losing every one around him. Was that all the shadow needed?
The shadow came lunging again, but Liam did not instinctively react to it. He took his ground then lowered his weapon. The shadow wavered, stalled in motion the first time.
"I'm not afraid of you," said Liam, his voice steady.
"You're not stronger than me. You're just a part of me-a part I'm ready to face."
At first, the shadow paused; its form jerked and bent. Liam took a step, and it retreated, its edges melting away into smoke. Only a last great hiss echoed faintly as it faded out.
Though those things were happening in front of Clara, she too closed her eyes and dropped her bow. This shadow was also going to shoot at her one last time, but the arrow froze a few inches away from her chest and disintegrated without leaving a trace behind. With an ominous low growl showing its displeasure, it also vanished.
The Keeper nodded, its hollow gaze sweeping all over them. "You have done well. The darkness within you has been tempered, though always it shall remain. Remember this as you go yet another step higher; for the trials to come will test not only strength but resolve."
The pedestal in the middle of the room lit up and the Heart of Shadows floated aloft. Then, it broke into two pieces: one drifted to Liam and the other toward Clara. As the fragments made contact with their skin, a rush of power coursed through them, remaking them.
"Go now," the Keeper said, with its voice failing. "The way is open before you; beware, however, for the shadows always watch."
Across the length of the chamber, a door appeared hewn from black stone, embossed with glowing runes, to stand before Clara and Liam. They exchanged glances: both of them tired yet resolute.
"Ready?" Liam asked.
Clara snickered like herself. "Always."
They stepped through the door together, leaving the Forgotten Hall behind them, waiting for the next challenge of the tower.
To be continued...