The Last Shade: The Finality of Death

Chapter 1

At the beginning, the great divine gods appointed the Frost and Flame Rulers, assigning a human kingdom to each to run. The two Rulers cast beings called Shades, manifestations of their pure power to aid them, each Ruler's five Shades working with their maker to advance human civilisation. Two thousand years later, when the Malikayn and Nephilim floating islands were populated by the Rulers' minor creations, the Servants, the two islands were suddenly cut off from the human world by an impenetrable barrier.

The great divine gods vanished overnight, and so the two Rulers' power began to dwindle, cut off from the worship of the humans and the power from the divine gods used to prolong their lives. Since, five hundred years have passed, and tensions are mounting between the Frost and Flame Rulers.

                          ———~~<~>~~———

Kiel was attending a funeral. To be precise, he was standing by the coffin with a veneer of light refracting frost over his body. He would have preferred to attend his loyal friend's funeral visible, but these days, the sight of the sole surviving Shade without his companions only served as a harsh reminder of the current situation.

How boisterous he was in life was how peaceful he as in death, lying in the translucent ice coffin as he shifted from the main stage to the side topic of conversation. In the small side wing of the minor palace, a small berth round the coffin was created as uneasy looking Servants loosely drifted in groups, their conversation tense and intentionally suppressed.

"Another one of us has passed. When was the last time a new Servant joined our Ranks?"

"Thirty one years, six months and eight days," a girl with silvery pink hair said. "I counted."

"With no replenishment to our ranks, are we going to die out?" a nervous boy clutched a senior Servant's sleeve anxiously.

The tall teen turned to give him a sharp look. "Don't you dare mention that in front of our Lord and His Honor."

The boy shrank back as the pink haired girl stepped forward, stretching an arm protectively before him.

"What, Brandon, you know he's right," she said sternly. "I am sure he knows when to say or not to say something."

The boy nodded frantically, to which the tall teen harrumphed.

Kiel, looking over the multi-coloured heads of silvery hair with relatively disinterest, turned back to his friend's coffin. Petal by petal, an exquisite white lily formed in his hand, the stem extending out as a sharp-edged leaf popped into existence. As he placed it on the coffin, he felt a familiar tingle of magic round the silver necklace he wore. The symbol of the Ruler's summoning.

"Still, I feel that Senior Reinhardt is too tragic, he was so close with His Honor too. It's his funeral, and His Honor never showed up-"

The not-so-loud voice that spoke such biting words was fiercely shushed by many.

"His Honor is the last Shade, now that the others have willingly sacrificed themselves in the last fight against those Flame Ones, he is even more busy than ever."

Kiel, halfway out the hall, glanced briefly at the owner of the measured voice and left without looking back.

A few minutes later, when people once again gathered around the coffin to say their final goodbyes, the white lily was discovered, the coloured ice drawing everyone's attention.

"This workmanship..." the boy who had spoken on Kiel's behalf stretched a hand towards it, but as his fingertips brushed the petals, his hand was yanked away.

His friend frowned disapprovingly.

"Whoever made it, it's obviously meant only for Reinhardt."

"Ah..." the bluish-haired boy stared at the lily thoughtfully.

                                 ———————

Kiel dispelled the light refracting frost on him as he came up to the main palace's gates, the enormous gates made from a single piece of ice groaning open at his approach.

The two guards snapped to attention, saluting him as he passed, looking critically at the gates' hinges.

"It gets louder every year, I believe," Kiel remarked.

"It can't be helped, Your Honor, we can only maintain the functionality, not restore them fully."

"Well, you can call me if it gets really bad," Kiel sighed, hastening his footsteps as the summons grew more urgent.

"Thank you, Your Honor!" The two guards shouted in unison behind him.

Kiel adjusted the robe over his fire-resistant clothes as he made his way quickly down the hallways. Illuminated by glowing ice crystals, Kiel couldn't help but notice several missing from their brackets, together with the relatively barren corridors unlike the opulence of the past. Everything was made from the Frost Ruler's pure frost power, and the fact that things were going missing to fuel the Ruler's dwindling magical supplies spoke of the dire situation.

The throne room's doors swung open automatically as soon as he touched them, and he was greeted by the sight of his Lord with a hammer and chisel in hand, walking slowly round the enormous statue made in his image, its cupped hands forming the throne he sat in.

"Kiel, you've arrived," Escarcha, the Frost Ruler said with evident relief, his frown giving way to a tired smile. "Quick, tell me where I can cut so it's not noticeable."

Kiel walked quickly up to him and bowed deeply.

"My Lord, you shouldn't have to resort to blaspheming your own image," he said earnestly. "If you had asked, I would have-" Kiel straightened to the sight of Escarcha's unreadable expression.

"Pardon me, I misspoke."

Escarcha sighed, slotting his tools of destruction into his robes and drawing out a scroll from their depths.

"I was just jesting about the statue," he added. "I wanted you to deliver this to Eldur."

"Of course." Kiel accepted the scroll with both hands. "Come to think of it, My Lord, this is the second time?"

"Yes. Before he decides to take more drastic actions, I have to make our stance clear. You may take as many Servants as you wish."

Kiel slotted the scroll into a hidden pocket, shaking his head.

"It's alright, Lord Eldur has not gone so far as to attack an envoy yet."

Escarcha reached out a hand as though to touch his subject's shoulder, but retracted it immediately. Kiel's eyes were imprinted with the image of cracks stretching down his Ruler's wrist, briefly exposed by his sleeves sliding back.

"I've wronged you."

Kiel looked up uncomprehendingly.

"Come back safely."

"I'll take my leave, My Lord."

Bowing once again, Kiel's coat hem flared as he turned and left, the sound of his heels striking the marble floor echoing in the silent throne room.