The Shadow

Prologue

It was close. It had to be. Aiwin walked forward, feet padding lightly against the jungle floor. He wove his way past ferns and through vines, clutching his coat tighter around himself in a sad attempt to ward off the chill. Once, this place had been hot and humid, a sanctuary for the creatures that lived within it. Although Aiwin despised the heat, this was worse. This unnatural cold that seemed to press in on him like the hands of a frozen corpse.

The cold would not stop him. Not now, when he was so, so very close, vengeance within reach.

He stepped forward carefully, quietly, watching as large green leaves floated toward the ground in the dozens, leaving trees barren. Aiwin pitied the plants. They were not used to this cold, had likely never felt such strange weather in their long, monotonous lives.

He gave a small, forced laugh at the thought—perhaps an attempt to wash out the fear that roiled through him. Aiwin had never liked these trees, and yet he now felt sympathy for them. Although he had lived beside this forest for less than two years, the penetrating heat, pestering bugs and mazes of trees had irked him quickly. Now he missed them. Missed the sweat that clung to his body like a second skin, missed the flies and mosquitos that had kept him awake at night with their incessant buzzing. It was all gone now—fallen victim to the terrible freeze that seemed to suck the very life from the jungle. Fallen victim to the creature that had made its home here.

Aiwin had found traces of his prey—if it could be called such a thing—hundreds of miles away. He had detected its presence over the sea, in Ehias, and recognized the creature's aura immediately. Darkness. Cold, unnatural, oppressive darkness. Aiwin felt that aura now, only a hundred times stronger. His emotions contorted in a mixture of excitement, anger, and agonizing terror. He had followed the monster all the way here, uprooting his life as he waited for the creature to grow, to take form. And it had happened. It had happened at last—Aiwin would be given a chance to let loose the fury that had filled him for centuries.

It had all happened so suddenly. Since the day Aiwin had found the monster, so many years ago, it had not stopped moving. He had followed it from across the world, all the way to this place. Why it had come here, to the middle of nowhere, he could not guess, but it had stopped at last. Or rather, its aura had. Aiwin had never actually seen the monster—only felt it. Today was different. He knew it was. The creature's aura had grown stronger—much stronger. So strong that the trees themselves had begun to fall apart and die around it. Aiwin had woken the moment he'd felt it; ripples of darkness and terror, coursing through him like waves across sand. Fortunately, Lamruil had not woken. Well, not that Aiwin knew of. He could only hope that she had not realized his plans and come after him. He could not have her charging into danger beside him.

He stopped, tucking himself behind a massive tree trunk as he heard it. A soft trickling sound, like fine soil being poured through one's fingers. He slowly cast his head around the tree. A clearing stretched before him—not quite large, but not small for such a dense jungle, either. It must have been twenty meters long and twice as wide, with leafless trees circling the space. No bushes, ferns, or saplings crowded the jungle floor within the clearing—in fact, nothing grew within the expanse. Not even grass. There was only hard, sunburnt dirt.

A plain clearing—unusual, but plain—save for the thing that lay in its center. Aiwin's eyes widened as he took in the thing positioned a mere ten meters from him.

What was it? Water? No, it was black, and too thin, too transparent. A dark blob of mass, almost shadowy in appearance. It had appeared from nowhere at all, and seemed to build upon itself, darkness falling on darkness, shadow cascading atop shadow. Trickles of ink fell from the air, heedless of the morning sun—the sun that should have burned away its shadowy existence.