Shadow Slave: Kindness

The morning sunlight spilled through the slats of the blinds, golden and quiet. Juliet blinked awake, the warmth unusually pleasant on her face.

It was a far cry from the outskirts, where dawn was a curse—an end to the safety of night and a start to choking air and noise. But here, in her small home on the edge of something like peace, it was different. Softer.

Warmer, even.

Juliet glanced down.

A mop of rose-pink hair peeked from beneath the blanket, nestled into her chest. Avi's small form was curled tightly into her, her breath slow and even. One arm was thrown around Juliet's waist. One leg hooked lazily around hers.

So that's why it's so warm, Juliet mused.

Avi mumbled something incoherent and burrowed deeper into the makeshift cocoon of limbs and blankets.

Juliet smiled, fingers idly weaving through Avi's tangled hair. It had only been a few days since the girl arrived, but the house already felt different. Full. Lived in. Like home.

She thought of the pout that had stretched across Avi's face when Juliet had offhandedly mentioned that Sunny was the first to learn her real name.

"Sunny stole Big Sis," Avi had muttered from the couch, face half-buried in a pillow. "Stupid Sunny. I'll get revenge... steal her back…"

Juliet had laughed—really laughed—and promised to take her shopping the next day. No limits. Anything she wanted.

Avi hadn't bought a thing for herself.

Instead, she'd transformed Juliet's barren apartment into something cozy and chaotic: wall decals, hanging mobiles, colorful photo stands. A DIY lamp, badly wired but charming. And on the wall, a new portrait—Avi and Juliet, arms slung around each other, smiling.

Juliet couldn't remember the last time her home had looked like this. She couldn't remember the last time it had felt like anything at all.

And now, it wasn't just a space. It was theirs.

Still, no matter how much she wanted to stay in that warmth, the world wouldn't wait.

She sighed softly and tapped Avi's shoulder.

"Avi. Time to wake up."

A muffled groan. Then: "Five more minutes, Big Sis…"

Juliet rolled her eyes, amused. "Five more minutes, she says." She leaned over and activated the bedside speaker. A soft chime gave way to a light, upbeat melody—one of Avi's favorites.

The girl stirred, one bleary eye cracking open.

"Big Sis?" she croaked.

Juliet offered her hand. "Come on, sleepyhead. I've got to start breakfast. And remember? We're meeting Sunny today."

That perked her up. Avi swung her legs over the side of the couch, rubbing at her eyes. "Is he here?"

"Not yet. But he will be." Juliet ruffled Avi's hair. "Now come on. No more truck-stopping."

Avi yawned and slumped into Juliet's side for a quick hug. "Thanks, Big Sis."

They made their way down the hallway, steam already fogging the shared bathroom. Juliet adjusted the temperature of the water for Avi, then ducked under the second faucet, letting the spray jolt her fully awake.

Clean and dressed in fresh tracksuits, they headed into the kitchen. Juliet worked quietly, setting out bowls of rice, miso soup, and two eggs fried just the way Avi liked them—crispy at the edges, soft in the center.

"Hungry?"

Avi was already halfway through her first bite. "Mmm. Perfect."

Juliet sipped her tea. "Sunny's probably having something miserable and undercooked somewhere."

Avi giggled.

After breakfast, they cleared the table together—something Juliet never would've let anyone else help with before. They pulled on jackets, checked bags, and paused at the door.

"Ready?" Juliet asked.

Avi nodded, eyes bright. "Ready, Big Sis."

They stepped out into the morning air. Cold, but not cruel. Crisp, but full of possibility.

And for the first time in a long, long while, Juliet didn't feel like she was simply surviving.

She was living.

And whatever came next—be it in the Academy, the Dream Realm, or beyond—she knew she wouldn't face it alone.

Sunny's lessons with Teacher Julius began pleasantly enough. The first hour passed with only mild confusion and the occasional wince of intellectual pain. Julius's manner was animated, his enthusiasm contagious. He gestured grandly, paced while talking, and kept switching between visual aids, holographic projections, and absurd metaphors that somehow made sense—eventually.

But by the second hour, Sunny felt like his brain was melting.

The information came fast and strange, layered with concepts that completely clashed with everything he thought he knew. Geography that didn't obey natural law. History from kingdoms that no longer existed—or maybe never had. Theoretical physics twisted by Dream Logic. Cultural behaviors of entities that weren't technically alive.

From time to time, Julius would stare at Sunny like he'd just asked what a wheel was. Still, to his credit, the man never mocked him.

Instead, he simply smiled and slowed down.

"You didn't grow up in a clan or academy," Julius had said with a shrug. "It's not your fault. But I won't let you stay ignorant, boy."

Sunny wasn't sure if he should be grateful or afraid.

The day's lesson plan was a minor nightmare. Theory lectures, VR simulations, real-world object identification drills, and even a segment on dead Dream Realm languages.

Dead languages.

"Why do I need to learn languages?" Sunny had groaned, eyes glazed. "The Spell translates everything for me!"

Julius raised a finger like a sword. "Wrong. The Spell approximates. It doesn't interpret nuance."

He leaned forward. "Let's say you come across an inscription in an abandoned shrine. It says, 'Certain death ahead.' Seems simple. But in the old rune tongue, there are thirty variations of the word 'death.' Each tells you how. One means dismemberment. Another, soul disintegration. One implies death by silence."

Sunny blinked.

Julius smiled. "The Spell won't tell you which kind of death it is. But runes will."

By late afternoon, Sunny's thoughts were mush. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. His limbs ached from VR combat stances. And his brain was still stuck on a sentence involving gravitational anomalies near ethereal leylines.

"I think I forgot how to blink," he muttered.

Julius, of course, was still buzzing with energy. "Same time tomorrow!"

Sunny gave a thumbs-up without raising his hand. "Yup. As long as food is involved."

While Sunny was buried under theory and dead languages, Cassie had spent the day in an entirely different battlefield.

Teacher Julius's training for her was focused, quiet, and grueling in its own way. He didn't lecture her so much as guide her—always gentle, but never indulgent. Cassie's world was darkness, but he made her move through it like it was hers to command.

He led her through obstacle courses—first virtual, then physical. Wooden bars, suspended ropes, uneven terrain mapped with quiet danger. She tripped more than once. Skinned a knee. Bit her lip to hold back a scream.

"Again," Julius said, never harsh.

But always firm.

She wore a thin blindfold to simulate the full disconnect. Her real eyes hadn't seen anything since her First Nightmare, but the blindfold was for trust. For committing fully. For letting her other senses take over.

She learned to count steps. To recognize air shifts. To trace sound the way others traced lines on a map.

And in between the physical drills, Julius made her study.

Mythology. Ancient texts. Audio-based translations. Touch-based runes. He was teaching her to navigate the Dream Realm in ways few others could—not despite her blindness, but because of it.

At one point, she asked, "Is this how real Seers fight?"

Julius had smiled sadly. "No. Most Seers don't make it far enough to fight."

Cassie said nothing. But she stood taller after that.

By the time the sun dipped beneath the Academy's towering silhouette, both Sunny and Cassie were drained—each in their own way. He, with the weight of knowledge he didn't know how to carry. She, with the ache of learning to walk again in a world she couldn't see.

Sunny finally stumbled back into his room, groaning as he dropped into a chair.

He stared at the wall for a solid minute, eyes unfocused.

Then, with a slow turn of his head, he looked down.

Right. The shadow.

It flickered beneath him, quiet and still.

"You've been lazy today," Sunny muttered, cracking his neck. "I've done enough thinking. Time for you to work."

The shadow didn't answer. Of course it didn't.

But Sunny grinned.

"Let's see what you can really do…"