Shadows Over Arcadia

I am Shadow, and a lot has happened in my one year and two arcs of existence. I am a fragment of soul confined inside a mithril golem, tirelessly serving the master who made me and protecting the one who cares about me.

The few crystal lamps still lit share their light in gentle streams through the manor's windows, their glow reflecting softly off the rippling surface of the baths. Verdantarc's new moon has shyly hidden away, leaving the sky above us a deep tapestry of stars, each one shining brighter in Luna's absence.

Maribel is naked, curled up beside me, her head nestled against my shoulder as we soak in the water, steam rising around us. A single insect serenades us with its hopeful calls for a mate.

Her body is pressed against mine, holding me as if afraid I might slip away, yet the slow, rhythmic beat of her heart and the steady rise and fall of her chest tell me she is at peace. Looking at her, willing to be so exposed and so vulnerable beside me, feeling her cling to me so tightly, makes me feel something I can't quite explain. But I know that whatever it is, it stirs in me a need to protect her.

The hand of the arm she rests upon lies on her hip, where she directed me to place it. I don't understand why, but at some point, Maribel, who is so guarded and distant with everyone, began to insist on being close to me.

"You saved her life, Shadow." Envy interjects.

We saved each other, Envy.

Every day in this numb prison, this empty nothingness I live in, filled with memories that are not my own, only a fragment, a hollow reflection of life, I grow more detached from this world.

"That's not what we are. We're the best parts of Ren and Maribel without their human frailty." Envy retorts.

I turn my gaze to where Envy's mask sits on the edge of the pool, propped against Maribel's folded robe. She brings her everywhere.

No, that's what you are, Envy. You can feel everything she feels. You get to live through her while I feel nothing.

Or at least, I did. Before meeting Maribel, the question had begun to creep into my mind: does anything matter? Do the lives of these people really matter? What difference is there between the beasts I kill and the people I protect? I felt nothing when either died.

"...And now?" Envy asks, sounding concerned.

At that moment, Maribel shifts slightly, absentmindedly tracing the curves of my chestplate with a finger. A contented sigh graces her lips, and her half-lidded hazel eyes glint like gems behind a curtain of damp blonde locks. It would appear Envy is not sharing our conversation.

I've found that being with her, things start to matter again.

Feeling her finger continue tracing the grooves of my frame, I am reminded of the first time we bathed together. It was the night we returned from the Crimson Scale's cave, covered in goblin gore. The innkeeper of the Rabbit Paw demanded that we wash off the filth before entering. So we rode to the lake outside Stonebrook to bathe beneath a sky much like tonight's, among the reeds and cattails swaying in the breeze, surrounded by croaking frogs and hooting owls.

I was terrified when she guided me into the dark water. She hadn't seen the full extent of my inhumanity then, and I was afraid for her to see the cold, metal monster I am shackled to. I expected those beautiful eyes to look at me with fear or disgust. She removed my mask, then my hood. I couldn't stop her without hurting her.

I froze, wanting to run, but I couldn't while she was undressing me. She must have sensed my inner turmoil, because I remember her consoling me, telling me it would be all right, that I didn't need to be nervous. I wasn't nervous; I was panicked as she removed my armor and clothes, washing each piece carefully in the water.

Then she took her own cloak, cleaned it, and used it to scrub away the black blood and filth from my frame. Her fingers reached every crevice, just as they do now. When I was finally clean, she stepped back. I felt exposed, humiliated by the thing I am. But she didn't look at me in fear or disgust. She didn't recoil or flinch, even though she had every reason to. Instead, she smiled at me, a blood-caked, gore-streaked smile.

I took her makeshift rag and, as gently as I could, wiped her face. I had to be sure. And sure enough, like a diamond hidden in the rough, her beautiful face was truly smiling. Her eyes didn't look at me as one looks at a monster, but as one looks at someone they care for. An expression I have never seen from anyone else who knows what I really am. She saw more than my shell, and because of her, I began to feel a little more like a person again.

"That day meant a lot to her as well, you know." Envy cuts in again. "It was the day you finally trusted her enough to let her see the real you."

I will never forget the way she looked that night, the pale light of the moon glistening on the water and catching on her bare skin. Whenever I start to doubt if I am truly alive, I remember that look. The way her eyes found me. The way she still looks at me. The way she holds me, treating me as something alive, someone worthy of affection. She sees me, listens to me, and considers what I need instead of using me like a soulless tool as Willow and Ren do.

She reminds me that I am real. When the emptiness of my senses makes the world feel distant, when my grip on humanity begins to slip, she becomes my anchor. Through her, I remember that I exist, that I still have a reason to live.

Stolen novel; please report.

Maribel shifts, the water rippling as she hugs me tighter. Her head tilts down, as though watching our reflections in the pool. "Hey… Shadow, what do you think about Lyra?" Her voice carries a false air of casualness that fails to hide the worry beneath it. A worry I understand all too well.

"I feel guilty," I say regretfully. "She's suffered a lot because I didn't do more when she was in my care."

"That's not what she means, Shadow."

"No, I mean, do you think she's pretty?" Maribel's voice trails off at the end as she rubs her finger aggressively over a spot on my chest, as if trying to scrub away a nonexistent blemish.

"I'm sure she'll grow into a beautiful woman," I answer flatly. It's an odd question with no clear origin, but I respond as best I can. Judging by the pursed lips reflected in the water, it isn't the answer she hoped for.

"She wants to know if you want to stay with Lyra or go home with her," Envy says in my mind with exasperated sharpness. This time, it seems Maribel hears her too, because she tucks her face against my chestplate to hide her expression.

"Of course I'll return home with you," I reply, confused as to why it needs to be said. As far as I can tell, Lyra has already received all the help she needs from Ren, and there's no purpose for me to stay. "There's nowhere else I want to be."

Based on her smile and the happy little squeal that follows, those must have been the words Maribel wanted to hear, though I'm still not sure why. Unsure how else to respond, I move the hand on her hip slightly, tracing her contours in slow strokes. Touching her this way usually makes her happy and is far easier than trying to guess what words will keep her in a good mood. And since pressure is one of the few sensations I can feel, I find that I enjoy it as well.

"You really have no idea how lucky you are. I might have her senses, but at least you have a body," Envy says in annoyance.

"What do you think of Ren?" I ask. I have been wondering about that for some time. As distant as I feel from him, deep down he still represents the only part of me that is human.

Maribel leans back against my arm, pushing my hand to her backside as she looks up at the sky. Her eyes follow the stars thoughtfully, as if she is choosing her words with care.

"He's brilliant," she says at last, turning her gaze back to me. "But it's also kind of… you know… unsettling how mature he acts for his age."

She continues before I can respond, her words beginning to flow as if she has been holding them in for a long time. "He's very kind, don't get me wrong, but he acts and sounds like someone much older than he is."

"Is that a bad thing?" Envy asks.

Maribel's expression darkens as she looks toward Ren's room across the courtyard. "People like Ren are dangerous," she says quietly. "They're are so capable and driven that they can end up as heroes or tyrants, depending on which way things go."

"Are you afraid of him?" I ask, a bit taken aback.

"No," Maribel answers softly after a pause. "I think he really does want to do good. I just think he needs people around him who'll keep him grounded."

"We can be those people." Envy offers.

"I want to help him build the kind of world he dreams about," she adds, her voice low. "But power changes people, and too much of it can twist even the best intentions."

"I see." I don't think Ren has ever considered, even for a moment, that he could be anything other than a benevolent leader. But Maribel's warning reminds me that Edric was once called a hero too, the man who saved not just Arcadia but the world. Does the throne itself corrupt those who sit upon it, or does the struggle to claim it cost them their souls? No, I don't believe I—no, Ren—would ever become like our father.

"Speaking of Ren," Maribel says suddenly, her voice brightening. "He said it's fine for us to check out the local Adventurer's Guild and take on some requests. Want to go tomorrow?"

"Yes." I don't know how I could say no, not when she's bouncing with excitement like that. "And if there's a C-rank request available, we might be able to earn our next promotion," I add.

"Let's do a monster-culling mission. It's about time we showed what Maribel and I can do together," Envy says excitedly.

Maribel sits up, yawning as she arches her back, straightens her legs, and stretches with her arms raised above her head in a full-body reach. After flexing her tired limbs, she slowly rises to her feet and turns toward me. She smiles down at me as she bends to squeeze the water from her hair, droplets catching the light.

"We should probably turn in if we're heading to Astradel in the morning," she says. Steam rises from her skin as she gestures for me to follow her out of the bath.

Waves ripple outward as I stand, the water in the stone basin sloshing with my movement. I step across to join Maribel atop the hot-air rune tile. She takes my right hand in hers as we bask in the torrent of heat that swirls around us, drying our bodies. The quiet song of nocturnal insects is briefly replaced by the howling wind of our personal storm.

A moment later, the gale fades as quickly as it came, leaving us perfectly dry. Maribel retrieves Envy's mask, a silver brush, and her robes. "Do you mind doing my hair?" she asks, taking a seat on the wooden stool beside the bath.

"Sure," I say, kneeling behind her. She offers the silver brush over her shoulder. I take it and turn it over in my hand. It's real silver, very expensive, and oddly familiar. I sigh inwardly but begin methodically brushing her hair, choosing not to voice my suspicions about where she might have found it.

My hand moves in a slow, steady rhythm, careful not to press too hard. Maribel sits in silence for a moment, watching her reflection in the water. I see her quietly loosen the front of her bathrobe and glance down at herself before pulling it tight again with a look of annoyance.

"Do you think I'm… pretty?" she asks hesitantly.

"You're the most beautiful person in the world to me," I say without hesitation.

My words are met with a scoff, followed by Maribel's scornful glare toward her own feet. "Willow is much prettier than me."

"Willow's appearance is an illusion, a carefully crafted lie to hide the darkness inside," I say, pausing in the act of brushing her hair. "But you, Maribel, are real… and beautiful, inside and out."

"Oh, please," Envy mutters. "You should be happy to have a body as beautiful as yours. May I remind you, some of us don't have bodies at all?"

Maribel lets out a quiet laugh, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. The tension in her shoulders eases.

Behind us, the door to the courtyard creaks open. Maribel leaps to her feet in surprise, and we both turn to see Lyra standing frozen in the doorway, wearing only a towel. The small basket in her hands tumbles to the ground, spilling its contents. A brush clatters across the stone floor, followed by the sharp crack of a small bottle of oil shattering at her feet.

Lyra's mouth hangs open, her eyes wide as coins. "Master Shadow? Is that you?" she stammers.

"I thought everyone was asleep," Envy groans.

We were careless, and it's too late now. Lyra has seen me, and there's no explaining our way out of this.