shadow slave, Echoes of the forgotten

Sunny was lying on his bed, lost in thought. He had been awake for hours now, his mind wandering through memories and possibilities.

He thought about Nephis, about all their moments together — the happy ones, and the sad and painful ones, too. The forgotten shore came to mind, when she had returned from her own Second Nightmare, and then Antarctica... the Third Nightmare.

After careful consideration, he had come to accept two things: first, that he had indeed returned to the past, and second, that his abilities were somehow chained or sealed by the spell.

The spell's wariness of him wasn't surprising. It knew what he had done — coming back through time, breaking free from the chains of fate. Even if it had all been accidental, even if he had never asked for any of it.

His thoughts drifted to Antarctica, and his chest tightened with regret. He had been too weak then, too powerless to save all those people in Falcon Scott and the other great cities. The weight of that failure still pressed heavy on his shoulders.

But he had made a promise to himself: to become stronger, to save as many as he could. Now that fate had given him another chance, he intended to keep that promise.

This time, he would kill the Winter Beast. This time, he would save his comrades. This time, LO49 and Falcon Scott would not fall. Armed with knowledge of what was to come, he could become better, stronger — and perhaps, finally live without regrets.

The morning light filtering through his window cast long shadows across the room. Somewhere in the distance, a bird sang its lonely song. Sunny closed his eyes, letting the familiar sounds of his old home wash over him. How strange it was to be back here, in this place that held so many memories — both sweet and bitter.

A familiar presence caught his attention, making him stir from his contemplation. Rising from his bed, he quickly changed into fresh clothes and shadow-stepped onto the porch.

The sight that greeted him brought a smile to his face. Rain stood there, her eyes wide, a subtle smile playing on her lips. Before he could say anything, she was running toward him.

She slowed just before reaching him, and then, to his surprise, wrapped him in a tight embrace. It wasn't something he had expected from her — the Rain he remembered had never been one for such displays of emotion. But people changed, he supposed. He had changed too, perhaps more than he cared to admit.

That was the nature of life, wasn't it? People changed bit by bit, day by day, shaped by the people they met, the places they visited, the battles they fought. Until one day, looking back, they could barely recognize their former selves.

Sunny returned the hug, patting her back gently as she fought back tears. When they finally separated, her composure had returned, though she could no longer deny how much she had missed her teacher.

Without a word, he gestured for her to enter. Once inside, he prepared tea while she settled onto the couch. The familiar ritual of tea-making helped calm his thoughts. The gentle sound of water boiling, the delicate aroma rising from the cups — these simple things anchored him to the present moment.

Only after he had set their cups down and taken his own seat did he finally break the silence.

"So, Rain. How are you?"

Her voice, when it came, was steady but carried a slight tremor. "Good. What about you?"

"Well, right now I'm okay," he said. "But the Second Nightmare... that was rather stressful. I'm taking things easy for now."

Rain stared at him, her eyes widening as the implications of his words sank in. Her teacher had just casually admitted to becoming a Master. The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken questions.

She studied him carefully, noting the changes she hadn't noticed at first. His face had become sharper, more defined, and his skin seemed to catch the morning light in a way that reminded her of polished marble. He had grown taller too, she realized with a start.

"So you really became a Master," she said, unable to contain her excitement. "That's incredible!"

A smirk played across Sunny's features. Praise from Rain was rare enough that he considered marking the date on his calendar. Perhaps he'd make it a personal holiday.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, his voice warm with amusement. "But enough about me. Have you been practicing what I taught you?"

Rain straightened in her seat, pride evident in her posture. "Of course! I can show you right now. I think I'm close to perfection."

Sunny raised an eyebrow at that, doubt flickering across his features. The style of a mighty onyx saint wasn't something to be mastered lightly. And yet... if anyone could surprise him, it would be Rain.

He remembered why he had taught her in the first place — to prepare her for the nightmares, to give her a fighting chance. Unlike him, she had never been infected by the nightmare spell. He had never seen if his teachings had truly taken root.

"Well then," he said, rising from his seat. "Shall we test that claim?"

The underground dojo waited for them, its concrete floor looking like it had seen better days. Sunny retrieved two practice swords from their holders on the wall, testing their weight with practiced ease.

Rain's expression had turned smug, and he could guess at her thoughts — dreams of finally defeating him, of proving herself his equal. But beneath that familiar competitiveness, he sensed something deeper: a determination born of fear, of knowing what waited in the nightmares, of remembering her adoptive parents' pain when they lost their real son.

They faced each other across the dojo floor, wooden swords held at ready. Rain's stance was perfect — every detail exactly as he had taught her. Looking at her now, Sunny felt a peculiar mix of pride and concern.

He decided to test her limits carefully, using only one hand and remaining mostly stationary. It was more than just a handicap; it was a way to truly gauge how far she had come.

Hours passed like minutes as they sparred. The afternoon sun traced long shadows across the dojo floor through the high windows. Rain moved with a grace that surprised even Sunny — her footwork precise, her strikes calculated. Each movement flowed into the next like water, showing none of the hesitation he remembered from their earlier sessions.

"So, I see you finally decided to take this seriously," Sunny said, deflecting another well-executed combination.

Rain didn't respond immediately, too focused on maintaining her form. Sweat gleamed on her forehead, and her breathing had grown heavy, but her eyes remained sharp and determined. She was pushing herself to her absolute limit, refusing to show any weakness.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of exchanged blows, Rain's strength began to waver. Her movements, still precise, grew slower. Her attacks, though technically perfect, lost their edge. Soon she found herself on the ground, gasping for air, her practice sword lying beside her.

"I guess..." she managed between breaths, "it wasn't... enough, huhhhhh."

There was disappointment in her voice, but also something else — a quiet determination that brought a smile to Sunny's face. He dismissed his practice sword and walked over to where she lay.

With a casual gesture, he summoned the Endless Spring. The familiar memory materialized in his hand, its contents as pure and refreshing as ever. He sat down beside Rain and offered it to her.

She took it without question, too exhausted to even wonder about its mysterious appearance. The cold water seemed to revive her spirits somewhat. She even poured some over her face, letting it wash away the afternoon's exertion.

"You did well," Sunny said softly. "Better than I expected, actually. The style of an onyx saint isn't meant to be mastered by mundane practitioners, yet you've grasped its essence remarkably well."

Rain looked up at him, surprise clear in her eyes. "But I couldn't even make you move from your spot."

"Rain," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "you were sparring with a Master while still mundane. The fact that you could maintain the proper form for hours, that your strikes remained precise until the very end — that's no small achievement."

He helped her to her feet, supporting her when she swayed slightly. "A Master's physical strength alone is enough to kill most mundane practitioners. The fact that you could stand against me at all, even with my restrictions, speaks volumes about your progress."

The sun had nearly set by now, painting the dojo in shades of orange and purple. Rain looked utterly exhausted, barely able to stand on her own. Without a word, Sunny lifted her onto his back.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get you home before your parents worry."

As he carried her through the darkening streets, Rain's voice came soft and drowsy: "Next time... next time I'll definitely make you move from that spot."

Sunny smiled, feeling a familiar warmth in his chest. "I look forward to it."

When they reached her home, he made sure to explain the situation to her parents, apologizing for keeping her so late. They seemed to understand, though — perhaps seeing something in their daughter's peaceful, exhausted expression that told them all they needed to know.

As he walked home under the stars, Sunny found himself thinking about the future again. But this time, his thoughts weren't filled with regret and determination alone. There was hope there too, and a quiet pride in his student's growth.

Perhaps, he thought, some changes to the past could be for the better.

***

A dark river flowed through a cavernous expanse of black stone. Fog nestled on the water, stifling its quiet murmurs and veiling everything in white. A lone source of light moved through the fog, tearing a path through it.

It was a slender gondola cut from dark onyx, with a glass lantern hanging from its bow. Inside the lantern, a pristine white flame burned bright, as if straining against the confines of its crystal prison. The fog parted before the gondola, and then silently closed in its wake.

A young woman with silver hair and ivory skin lay curled into a ball, sleeping on the bottom of the onyx boat. In the stark light of the lantern, her face seemed deathly pale and vulnerable.

On the stern of the gondola stood a skeleton dressed in rags. He was working the oar, his empty eye sockets staring into the fog or at the young woman. Despite having no lungs, no lips, and no tongue, he was humming a song.

"One day the gods will fall

And reveal their lie

The one who sleeps will awaken

To devour his children

Oh, and us all

That which was forgotten

Will be remembered

And consume the world

Oh, all of us will dream

The nightmare

Of the Forgotten God..."

As he sang, the young woman stirred, and then slowly opened her eyes. The skeleton fell silent, glanced at her, then said:

"Good morning, creature. How have you slept?"

She sat up straight and did not answer, staring at the skeleton with tired grey eyes.

The boatman waited for a moment, then shrugged.

"Are you feeling well? You... you have not been speaking much these past few weeks, creature. Has your mind finally gone?"

The young woman remained silent, making the skeleton shift uncomfortably. He shook his head.

"Huh... something about you feels different today. Your shadow... it seems to have grown deeper? How peculiar!"

There was no answer.

Water lapped against the sides of the gondola, each ripple sending ghostly echoes through the cavern. The skeleton's bony fingers gripped the oar tighter, though whether from discomfort or something else, it was impossible to tell.

They continued to sail in silence for a while. Slowly, the fog receded, revealing a black shore. The skeleton changed the course of the boat and let it drift until its bottom scraped against the rock.

There, he let go of the oar and sighed.

"This is it, creature. That is as far as I go."

The young woman remained motionless for a while, then stood up and touched the lantern, letting the white flame travel from it to her palm. After that, she jumped onto the shore, staggered, and slowly straightened herself, looking into the darkness.

Finally, she spoke:

"How close are we to that place?"

The skeleton shrugged.

"Close enough, I'd wager. Uh... sorry for lying to you, by the way. In my defense, you only have yourself to blame, creature! Who would be foolish enough to believe that anyone can cross the Underworld? This place is not for the likes of us to traverse. Getting this close to its inner border is already a miracle."

He hesitated for a while, then added:

"Are you sure that you want to go on? There are worse fates than death, creature. Trust me... I should know."

The young woman glanced at him, then asked:

"What about you? What will you do?"

The skeleton laughed.

"Me? Oh, I don't know. Now that I've been taken off that damned tree, there's not much time left for me to exist. Maybe I'll try to find what remains of the Shadow Realm, to have a proper death. Maybe I'll just go back and tease Azarax for a while, one last time. That fellow was really insufferable, you know. Spending an eternity in his company was the greatest punishment of all! A piece of advice... choose your eternal companions carefully, creature."

The young woman lingered for a few moments, then nodded and walked into the darkness. Her steps were steady.

Then, without turning her head, she said:

"Thank you, Eurys. Farewell."

The skeleton watched her go, shadows dancing across his yellowed bones in the fading light of her flame. His empty eye sockets seemed to hold an ancient sadness as he sighed.

"What a foolish abomination... still, I wish her luck. Even though I don't know what she seeks, I hope she finds it."

As the young woman walked further and further away, the light of her flame grew distant and dim. The darkness surrounded the skeleton, and the white fog flowed slowly in his direction, as if wishing to consume him.

Eurys watched the fog draw closer, ancient memories stirring in whatever remained of his soul.

Then he sighed again.

"...She is not as foolish as me, at least."

The white mist swallowed him, and his voice abruptly fell quiet. The gondola disappeared into the fog, leaving no trace of its passage on the dark waters.

Soon, impenetrable darkness reigned over the cold river once again.

...And far in the distance, a lonely spark of light continued to climb higher and higher, soon disappearing from view.

Beyond that light lay something ancient and terrible, something that even the darkness feared. But the young woman walked on, her steps never faltering, her path clear despite the shadows that sought to swallow her.

After all, some questions could only be answered in the dark.