Shadow Slave : Shadow Clan

In her sleep, Nephis stood in the middle of a burning garden.

Petals turned to embers. Branches cracked under the heat. Snowflakes melted before they could land.

The Immortal Flame Clan estate… or what remained of it.

Smoke curled around her, but it didn't choke her. Instead, it whispered. Familiar voices carried on the wind—shouts of betrayal, the clash of steel, the hiss of flames licking stone.

She turned.

There, standing by the fountain, was her father.

Broken Sword.

He wasn't in battle attire. Just simple robes, the kind he wore on cold mornings when he made tea and asked her about sword stances.

He smiled.

Warm.

Unbroken.

"Father…?" she whispered, a tremble in her voice. Her feet wouldn't move.

"You're still dreaming, Neph," he said softly, kneeling by the water. "And I won't be here for long."

"No…" she whispered, the word dry in her throat. "No, you're alive. You—"

He shook his head slowly. "No, sweetheart. Not anymore."

The world darkened around the edges. The flames roared louder. The snow turned to ash.

And Nephis… broke.

"No!" she screamed. "I still needed you! You were supposed to stay! You said you'd—"

"I know," Broken Sword said gently, standing and approaching her. "I'm sorry."

Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm not ready. I'm not strong enough."

"You are," he whispered, cupping her face.

"I'm scared," she admitted. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Everyone's gone. I feel… dead."

Broken Sword touched her forehead, as if giving her something invisible.

"You are not dead," he said, voice firmer now. "You're grieving. And grief can feel like death."

He stepped back, fading now, his body turning to glowing strands of light.

"But listen to me, my daughter. You are loved. You are not alone. And you will rise again."

"No, wait—please, don't go!" she cried out, reaching for him. "Please!"

His smile lingered.

Then… he was gone.

And the dream—

—collapsed into shadow.

—-

Nephis stirred awake, the remnants of the dream still clinging to her like mist. But this time, it wasn't just tears streaming in silence.

She was crying—truly crying—in the real world.

Her eyes opened slowly, hazed with grief and confusion, only to find Sunny still there. Awake. Sitting against the headboard, his eyes tired but resolute.

"You… didn't sleep?" she asked softly, her voice hoarse.

Sunny shook his head gently. "I didn't want to," he murmured. "Couldn't."

The dim light framed his features in a soft halo—his dark eyes, full of concern, never left her. And she… couldn't bear it.

Nephis sat up slowly, her voice trembling. "He's dead, isn't he? My father…"

Sunny hesitated. His gaze dropped for a second. Just a second.

But it was enough.

She saw the truth.

A single, cracked breath escaped her, and then—

The dam broke.

"No—!"

The sound tore from her throat like a wound that had never healed. Nephis sobbed, loud and unfiltered, a raw sound of a girl who had held back for too long. The grief of a daughter who had never heard "I'm proud of you" until it was too late.

Sunny was already there.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in as her head collapsed onto his chest. She screamed into him, fists clenched against his shirt. It didn't matter that her father had been cold, distant, and hard—it mattered that in the end… he had changed. That he was becoming the father she needed.

But time… time had stolen that from her.

"I'm here," Sunny whispered, gently rocking her. "You don't have to carry this alone, Nephis. Please… let me carry it with you. Say anything. Yell. Cry. I'll be right here."

She looked up at him, eyes swollen, cheeks wet, breath hitching in her throat.

And then… in the hush between sobs, silence fell.

They could hear each other's breathing.

It was close. So close.

Sunny stared into her—through her—and something inside him shattered and reformed in the same breath.

He leaned in.

And kissed her.

Their lips met, hesitant but true. A kiss not born from desire, but from need. A promise in the form of trembling breath and trembling lips. A promise that she was not alone.

That he loved her. That he always had.

Nephis didn't pull away.

She kissed him back, softly, shyly—clinging to that warmth in the cold.

When they parted, barely inches away, her voice trembled again. "Sunny… you always…"

He nodded, forehead resting against hers. "Yes. Always."

There was a pause.

Then, with a quiet exhale, he added, "Even though I realized it late… I've always loved you. Only you."

And something inside Nephis, something buried deep and scared and cold—melted.

She closed her eyes and leaned into him fully, her head against his heart. That steady, strong rhythm beating just for her.

For the first time in what felt like forever…

Nephis felt safe.

And in Sunny's arms, she slept.

—————-

The early hush of morning cradled the Shadow Clan mansion in its arms.

Soft light filtered through the curtains as Olivia walked the halls, already dressed in her dark silk robe. The mansion was quiet, the way it often was after heavy nights — but not empty. No… never empty.

Drawn by instinct — a mother's instinct — she made her way toward Sunny's room again.

She didn't knock.

She didn't need to.

The door was slightly open, just like yesterday.

And when she stepped quietly in… she saw them.

Sunny, sitting on the bed, his back resting against the headboard. His eyes were closed, and though his breathing was light, Olivia knew he wasn't asleep. His posture was stiff — protective, enduring — as if he didn't want to move in fear of disturbing the girl wrapped around him.

Nephis.

She was curled against him, her head gently resting on his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his middle as if letting go would make the world crumble again. Her silver-white hair (she changed her hair color when she was in her estate okay don't attack me now please) spilled over his lap like moonlight. And on her sleeping face was the faintest trace of peace — the kind that came only when one had cried everything out and finally, finally found something solid to cling to.

Olivia didn't move.

Her heart beat slowly.

Abel, she thought. You would have smiled too.

It was almost haunting — how much Sunny looked like him now. The way he held Nephis, not possessively… but reverently, like he understood how fragile she was in that moment. Like he would rather break himself than let her break again.

Olivia felt something stir in her chest.

Not grief this time.

Joy. And something deeper… pride. Hope.

She saw it clearly now: not just a boy and a girl, but two hearts mending in the quiet of morning. Not rushed, not loud. Just existing. Just… safe.

She stepped back silently, not wanting to interrupt what fate had already begun to weave.

Before she closed the door fully, she glanced one last time at her son — her strong, thoughtful, gentle-hearted son — and at the broken girl who had found refuge in him.

"You've grown," she whispered to herself. "Both of you."

And then, as she turned down the hall, she smiled softly to the silent mansion.

Abel… she's going to be alright. And so is he."

——-

Nephis sat down at the long dining table, her fingers curling loosely around the edge of her seat. The chair felt too large… or maybe she just felt too small this morning.

Olivia placed a steaming plate of waffles in front of her, along with a tall glass of warm milk.

Then, she sat across from her, not saying a word.

The silence between them was soft. Not awkward — just… waiting.

Nephis hesitated, then picked up her fork. She took a small bite. The sweetness almost made her flinch. It was gentle. Homemade.

Safe.

"You slept beside Sunny last night," Olivia said, her voice quiet but clear.

Nephis froze mid-bite, her eyes lifting to meet Olivia's. There was no judgment in her tone, only observation. And maybe… something like understanding.

"…I did," Nephis replied softly. "I couldn't sleep alone."

Olivia nodded slowly, folding her hands on the table.

"I used to be the same, once."

Nephis blinked.

"After I lost my parents," Olivia continued, her voice distant now. "I used to sneak into my brother's room and sit beside his window, just so I could hear another heartbeat. Sometimes… silence is the cruelest sound."

Nephis lowered her gaze. Her fingers tightened slightly around her fork.

"I didn't even know him well," she whispered. "My father. But… he tried. At the end. He really tried."

Her voice cracked, and Olivia stood without a word, walking around the table.

She sat beside her this time — not across.

She reached over and gently placed a hand over Nephis's.

"Sometimes, the 'trying' is all they have left," Olivia murmured. "And sometimes… it's enough."

Nephis felt her throat close.

"You don't have to carry it alone," Olivia continued. "This house… it's yours now, too. And we're not going to replace what you lost. We're not here to fix you."

Her hand squeezed Nephis's gently.

"But we are here. Every morning. Every night. That doesn't change."

Nephis bit her lip, hard. But a tear slipped past anyway.

"Why are you so kind to me?" she asked, voice barely audible. "I… I don't deserve this. I'm a stranger. A burden."

Olivia gave her a long, firm look.

"Because once," she said, "I was a girl who thought the same thing. And someone — one foolish, brave, brilliant man — looked at me and said: 'You are not a burden. You are a light that just hasn't found the right place to shine yet.'"

A silence settled over them again.

This time, it was warmer.

Nephis slowly reached up and wiped her tears away.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For the food. For… everything."

Olivia gave a quiet smile. "Finish your breakfast. Sunny will be down soon. He'd be devastated if he missed waffles with you again."

That earned the smallest laugh from Nephis — a soft breath between sorrow and healing.

"I'll wait," she said.

—-

The scent of waffles had begun to fill the hall again — warm vanilla, crisp edges, and that delicate caramelized sweetness that always clung to the air after Olivia cooked.

Nephis sat quietly, holding her fork, eyes clearer now. Not healed — not yet — but braced, like someone learning to breathe again.

Soft footsteps pattered down the stairs.

"Good morning!!" Rain called as she entered, still in her fuzzy green pajamas with frogs on them, her wild hair bouncing in every direction.

Sunny followed right behind her, black shirt slightly crumpled, hair messier than usual, eyes locking on Nephis first.

And then he smiled.

"Morning," he said to them all, sliding into the chair beside Nephis without missing a beat. "Smells amazing."

Rain climbed into her chair across from Nephis and began devouring her waffles with gleeful speed.

"Mom," Sunny said, reaching for the syrup, "you didn't have to cook again."

"It's winter," Olivia replied simply, turning away from the stove. "You all need warmth."

Nephis glanced at the three of them — Rain chatting away between mouthfuls, Sunny listening with one of those quiet half-smiles, and Olivia watching them like someone guarding the last light in the dark.

It felt unreal.

It felt like home.

Until Olivia sat down.

Her smile dimmed slightly. Her fingers brushed the surface of her coffee mug, and for a moment, she didn't say anything.

The room grew still.

"There's something I need to tell you," she said quietly.

Sunny looked up immediately. Rain paused, blinking.

Nephis felt it before she heard it — the tension, a premonition curling in her spine like a cold wind.

"It's about your father," Olivia said to Nephis gently. "About Broken Sword."

The name alone made Nephis grip her fork tighter.

Sunny leaned forward. "What… happened to him?"

Olivia exhaled. The silence that followed was heavy enough to still Rain's fidgeting.

"He was betrayed," Olivia said. "Surrounded by people who once called him brother."

Nephis said nothing. Her eyes were fixed on the table now, her shoulders slowly rising.

"The ones who struck the blow…" Olivia's voice lowered. "Were Asterion and Ki Song."

Nephis's breath hitched.

Sunny's jaw clenched.

Rain blinked, confused but sensing the weight of the names.

"They called him a relic. Said he stood in the way of a new era. But it wasn't just them."

Olivia's eyes grew colder — sharper.

"The one who planned it all. Who moved the pieces. Who gave the order."

She stared down at her coffee.

A beat of silence passed.

Then her voice, quiet but sharp as glass:

"Was Anvil."

Nephis froze.

Sunny's hand curled slowly around his cup. The porcelain trembled slightly in his grip.

Even Rain stopped breathing.

"Anvil?" Sunny said, voice low.

Olivia nodded.

Nephis lowered her head. A tear slid silently down her cheek.

"Why…?" she whispered.

Olivia stood slowly. "That," she said, walking toward the window, where snow had begun to fall outside…

"Is something I intend to find out."

And outside, somewhere far from the warmth of the kitchen, under the gray morning sky—

The fires of something greater had already begun to burn.