Chapter Text
The abyssal pearl slept in a grave of ash once more, its baleful shimmer obscured from the world.
There was a shadow hidden amongst the smoldering ruins.
It was the sorriest little thing, the most miserable of all creatures. It laid in hiding, trembling and weeping tears and snot, the remains of a shelf pinning it to the debris where it belonged.
Its head ached from where its vision had turned to crimson. Each breath it took was labored with pain, but it had managed to wiggle a bit and air came easier now, though twicefold filled with guilt where agony had been.
Because the shadow shouldn't be here.
Azura clad it in her twilight to hide its guilt, but this guilt was not meant to be hidden. And so, dawn came and dragged aside the comforting blanket, once more laying shame bare for all to see.
The shadow had lost track of how long it had been, but eventually, it tried to free itself from where it was caught.
Because it wasn't strong enough.
If it had been a better creature, a Netch maybe, it would've stayed and accepted the void. For what was a Netch without its family? Or a Scrib. How could a Scrib survive on its own? Any brave being would've accepted death, but the shadow was so terribly afraid of the void.
The pain, though deserved, was no longer bearable. The discomfort of its soiled, bloody clothes, though earned, was too much.
And so, the little shadow wiggled free, its breaths a labored wheeze that had more tears cutting shiny streaks through the ashen mess. Its face stung with pain at every movement.
Maybe it had been cut off?
Without a face, who even was the shadow anymore?
Anyone.
No one.
It did not call out as it stumbled through the house's corpse. Shadows had no voice. Neither did it care to avoid the nests of still smoldering ashes. Blood had fed these flames, and it wanted to be closer to them, even as the flesh of its feet sizzled and parted.
It climbed over fallen beams and then, it was next to her.
She was not peaceful. Her last moments told of her torture, and her posture was contorted by her suffering. The flames had stolen her beauty, even if death had not.
There were no eyes left for the shadow to close. But still, the fear and pain it had seen in them were burned into its mind by a different fire, an invisible one.
It had held her gaze from where it had lain in hiding, had heard her screams as the demons dragged her into their midst. As they had torn off her garments and into her skin, as her bones had splintered under their hands and as they had inflicted all kinds of pain until she was no more.
The shadow felt the need to be close to the corpse, held by her and safe, like so many times before.
But the fire had burned her arms, made them leathery and stiff, and there was no moving them. She would never hold him again. So, the little shadow crawled into her lap and curled up against the blackened ruin of her stomach, crying until there were no tears left.
When the shadow looked up again, the moons shone through the remains of the roof, stars shimmering cold and distant. Their light drank the heat of the ashes and drained the life out of the shade.
Suddenly, the shadow felt disgusted with itself.
It should not have been her. The shadow should've been the one torn apart by the demons, not her.
Not... Nall.
And she had been the one to shove him away, had whispered to hide and abandon her.
It should've been him. She was so much better.
The shadow's disgust grew acrid. It pushed itself to its feet and fled out of the ruins. Past the toppled walls and smoldering remains of their main hall, past the temple and the workshop and their servants' quarters.
If it closed its eyes, it could still see that baleful silhouette rising before the moon. And later, forged in flame and tempered in blood-
It forced those thoughts aside.
Shadows did not have thoughts.
There were many others around, many more, burned and contorted, but the shadow couldn't bear to look at them.
Seeing them meant sealing their fates. If he didn't see anyone, didn't recognize anyone, that meant they could still be out there, could still be alive. The moment his gaze would find a familiar face, fate would be set in stone and the gears of the universe would slot into place. They would grind up any shadow, especially one so small, and he had no hope of stopping them.
If he witnessed fate, it became reality, and he might as well have been the one to bring the fire, then.
The dense forest loomed dark before the shadow, and fear reached for its heart. But what it had left behind was worse, and so, it continued on.
The forest was a realm fit for shadows, after all.
Its vision swam and its breath was a labored wheeze from whatever caused the stinging pain boring into its side. Even now, the air was permeated with carnage, smoke still heavy this far out.
The shadow crawled through the undergrowth, through scathecraw and trama root and thorns that tore into its skin and at the remains of its nightgown.
It could not say how long it had hidden in the jungle. Night and day seemed to meld into one in the deep underbrush.
It shivered under the stars, no cloak to protect from the cold. Any sleep was accompanied by her voice, her agonized screams in her final moments.
Other times, the shadow heard her singing somewhere, hidden by the trees. He followed her song, but she was nowhere to be found. And the brief hope that it might have all been a dream, that she was alive and would find him, was all the worse. It was like losing her again.
There was nothing to do but hide, because the dark ones that had nourished the fire with blood were still around. The shadow could see their shapes moving through the trees sometimes, curved horns and blood-red markings on their black faces.
The shadow drank from puddles, but the sharp pain in its side and the throbbing one behind its temples was soon accompanied by a gnawing sting in its stomach. One that eventually intensified thousandfold when the faint smell of roasting meat wafted through the treeline.
The shadow's stomach gave a terrible growl and it dug its fingernails into the skin on its belly, desperation in its eyes. As if reined in by an invisible thread, the shadow followed the smell.
There was a flickering light ahead now, and cautiously, it crept closer.
Someone had made a tiny camp on the beach, sheltered by a rocky outcrop. The sea was calm this night, the waves lapping steadily against the grey sand.
A campfire's warm light reached almost to the underbrush, a sharpened stick suspended above it. Two fish and a large crab roasted over the fire, and the shadow felt its mouth watering, its belly growling in protest and cramping up painfully.
A lone shape sat cross-legged next to the fire. Was it a man or a woman?
A boy on his way to become a man, the shadow eventually decided, though there was something decidedly feminine about his features as well. He was golden-skinned, like all Chimer, with dark brown hair styled in a fluffy mohawk, the sides of his head shaved clean. The flickering firelight dyed his bright eyes an intense orange.
A spear rested next to him in the sand. It was made like the ones the Netchimen on Vvardenfell and the mainland used for hunting their Netches.
The stranger had a small pack and a bedroll with him, but aside from that, he was clad in nothing but plain, short robes the color of egg yolk. The loose-fitting garment reached to his knees and only covered one of his shoulders, leaving the other bare and one side of his chest uncovered, safe for a stretch of pale fabric wrapped around. The other mer did not wear shoes of any kind, his bare toes buried in the warm sand close to the fire.
The stranger reached up to turn the spit a little, the crisp skin of the fish sizzling, some of the fat dripping down into the flames. The shadow curled in on itself in hunger and desperation. The staggering pain in his side dug into him again.
"You can come out."
The stranger's voice rang clearly, bright as a bell, yet strangely commanding. The voice of one not unfamiliar with being obeyed.
The shadow shrunk further, shying away from the voice. He hastily scrambled to get back into the safety of the forest as quick as the pain would permit.
A while later, he dared come back and found the stranger gone.
Instead, there was a wide redplume leaf set on the ground. One of the fish and two crab legs were wrapped into it.
The shadow did not hesitate, didn't even bother to fully unwrap it. He tore into the fish, leaf and skin and bones and all, and just devoured it. When he was done, there was nothing but the biggest bones left, and those were completely gnawed clean.
But the shadow's side was hurting horribly by now, and red was running down his face once more, steadily dripping over his chin and falling into the dirt.
The world was swaying, and leaden weight had flooded his limbs.
And so, the little shadow curled up against a nearby tree, deciding to just rest his eyes for a moment.
When the shadow came to, he was resting comfortably, but he shivered, even though there was the flickering warmth of a fire nearby.
He cuddled further into the soft fabric he was nestled in, flitting in and out of unsteady dreams. His bedding didn't smell like his bed at home, and it was harder and less wide, but his exhausted body did not care.
The shadow rested uneasily, consciousness coming and leaving for what felt like an eternity.
He eventually fully woke when nearby whistling reached his ears. It was a merry little tune, and a rhythmic grinding sound accompanied it. The little shade's eyes flew open, immediately squinting against the bright sunlight.
He struggled to sit up, but all the pain flooded back into him and the whistling had stopped.
"Hey! Hey, it's all right! Stay where you are."
The shadow looked up at the stranger, now crouched before him, his hands hovering above him, yet not touching.
"You are hurt. Don't move, or you will make it worse."
Their eyes met for a moment, the stranger's and the shadow's paler ones. He noticed the other mer's eyes were actually of two different colors, one an intense shade of golden green, the other darker, a warm orange hue, like the little nuggets of amber he'd collected on the beach in another lifetime.
He slowly sank back into the bedroll. The stranger nodded. "Good. Almost your entire side is black and blue. Could be some broken ribs in there somewhere."
The shadow frowned. When he had been a child and not a shadow, he'd only ever broken a bone once, long ago. He'd never been prone to getting in trouble.
"You also burned your feet, but they seem to be healing. And, well, that of course." The stranger gestured for his face.
"It's... uh. You'll have a scar to show off, I guess. Here," the young mer scraped something off a stone and into an earthen jug filled with some sort of liquid that he pushed into the shadow's hands. Only now did he realize that the scraping sound earlier had come from a sort of improvised mortar and pestle that the stranger had used to crush up something black and gooey.
"For the pain. You also have a bit of a fever, maybe it will help with that as well?"
The shade shifted the concoction in the jug and scrunched up his nose. It had a sharp, pungent bitterness and the tang of alcohol. Not as sharp as the pain, though, and so he bravely gulped down some of it.
It tasted horrible, and the stranger laughed at the face he pulled. "Well, I never said it would be tasty. Can you hold still for a moment?"
He coated his fingers in the black goo and crouched in front of the shadow, waiting for his little nod before he touched his fingertips to his face.
The shadow could not bite back a small cry at the pain that shot through him as the stranger covered the unseen injury on his face with his concoction. To his surprise, the youth's other hand curled around his shoulder in an effort to comfort him.
"I know, I know. That's just... that's quite the cut you have there. We shouldn't leave it like this. I don't have anything to stitch it with me, but-" the shadow's eyes went wide and he immediately struggled to get away.
The stranger let go, but said: "Calm down! I said I don't have anything! I promise." The shadow slowly sunk back into the stranger's bedroll, keeping his wary gaze on him.
"Hey. Look. I promise, I won't do anything you don't want, all right?"
The shadow scrutinized him for a moment, then, he nodded and leaned back in so the stranger could apply the rest of his balm. It stung, but a fuzzy numbness was spreading from his stomach by now, and so, the shadow was brave.
The stranger checked his handiwork and mumbled something to himself, then, he turned away to pull something from his pack. A bundle of dark green cloth. "So... you can have my spare tunic. It will be too large, but well. Better than that, I guess."
The shade looked down at himself and noticed that he was still almost bared, only the sorriest scraps of his nightgown remaining, stained with blood and dirt and scorch marks, just as he had been since the forest.
He had not cared back then - why would a shade need clothes, after all? - but now, he did care.
Only... reason and pain told him he could not do this by himself.
He held out his arms and the stranger carefully helped him out of his rags and into the green robes without straining his injuries too much. He threw a worried glance at the shadow's face, but it had apparently not started bleeding again.
The shadow looked down at himself. The robes really were too long, and since the stranger was also a good bit more muscular than him, too wide as well.
The other mer frowned, assessing. Then, he bunched up the fabric on the shadow's bony shoulder and tied it into a knot. A spare length of rope soon did its best to keep the garment where it belonged on his narrow frame and the stranger finally gave a satisfied nod. "There we go. Now, how is the pain?"
The shadow hesitated. Now that he thought about it... He tried for an answer, but a labored cough tore itself from his chest instead.
The stranger made a sympathetic noise and pushed a waterskin into his hands. "Yeah, I figured you probably caught a lot of the smoke and ash, hm? Drink some water, and no rush. Not like the island is going anywhere," he added with a sudden chuckle.
The shadow frowned. Why would the island be going anywhere?
That made no sense, so instead of wasting too much thought on it, he drank some water, only then realizing how terribly thirsty he was.
The pain in his side and on his face was bearable by now, thanks to the concoction. But it couldn't numb the other one, the pain no balm could be applied to, so the shadow chose not to answer and curled up in the bedroll, going back to sleep.
The stranger cared for him during the next few days and the little shade grew stronger and healthier with each of them.
He found that the stranger liked to talk a lot, but it was just chatter about this and that, idly jumping from topic to topic in a way the shadow found maddening. He'd never get done learning about a single topic like this!
The weird mer also frequently clad words in more, unnecessary words, playing with their syllables and tasting how they sounded, sometimes rephrasing the same sentences a few times until he apparently found them more pleasing.
The stranger had a weird sense of humor as well. Just in this short time, he'd compared elves to fen flowers, birds to the sunrise and adults first to shellfish and then to the stars.
Now that he thought about it, the shade was pretty sure the stranger was wrong in the head somehow.
Touched by the Mad Lord, maybe.
His brain did not seem to be governed by logic at the very least. And since the weird youth could not be relied on when it came to having a productive conversation, the shadow eventually had to step in. His voice was a pitiful croak, but at least he wasn't coughing non-stop anymore.
"Who are you?"
The stranger looked up from where he was skinning a lizard he had caught, seemingly very pleased to hear him talk.
"I haven't decided yet. Though my name is the sign of Veloth, Vehk. But nowadays I wear it twice."
The little shadow frowned in confusion.
"...So that'd be Vivec," the strange mer went to elaborate.
"...Ah," the shade croaked, feeling even more confused.
The stranger grinned at his expression. "And your name is?"
The shadow shook his head.
"You don't have one?"
He flinched, the searing emptiness constricting his heart. "I lost it. It was taken." His fearful gaze flew back to the treeline. "The dark ones and their fire. Only shadows survived."
The stra- Vivec nodded thoughtfully. "I see. You know what? Maybe we can get it back. Or we may find you a new one that you'll like even better."
The shade shook his head with so much resolve, the sharp pain stabbed through his face again. "It was my name!"
"Then we shall get it back, you and I. And until then, you will just be a little shadow." There was something in Vivec's face, understanding maybe, and it warmed his eyes a bit. He added: "Shadows do not feel pain, do they?"
"They don't," the little shade confirmed.
"That seems very strong. Good. Be a shadow for now."
Vivec pushed the waterskin back into his hands and the shadow gulped down a few sips before he meekly shook his head, his voice suddenly trembling. "I w-will always b-be one."
The other mer tilted his head, considering his answer for a moment. "That is for you to decide, I guess. Just do not forget that you can become something else at any time, if you wish so."
The little shade looked out at the sea. It had retreated now, reined in and abducted by Masser's grasp, leaving the shore bared and empty. So many times had he seen it, and yet never had the ashen coast looked just as desolate to him as it did right now.
"...Were you ever a shadow?"
Vivec shook his head. "No. I was a mirrored mask for very long, to be worn by others. And then, I became a gemstone-feathered bird. And like all birds, I was an egg once."
The shadow couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him, despite how foreign it sounded. "You were an egg?!"
Vivec did not seem to mind, though, a slight smirk curling his lips as well. He nodded, his voice completely sincere. "Absolutely."
"What kind of egg?" the shade wanted to know.
"A Netchiman's egg. His wife laid it for him, but it was its mother who whispered poisoned secrets into its shell to keep it safe. One day, it hatched, and the Netchiman and his wife had a son and a daughter."
The shadow recoiled at the pain in his heart this time, not his side or his face. To hide his reaction, he quickly asked: "Oh, you have a s-sister?"
Vivec smirked and shook his head. "No. Their daughter is just hiding in plain sight."
The shade frowned. "What does that even mean?"
"They hatched from the same egg and share the same shadow."
Well, if nothing else, that at least seemed very efficient, so who was the shade to question it? The world would also be way less dark if every shadow was shared by two owners, he supposed.
He thought about it for a moment, before he finally concluded: "...You are very strange."
Vivec, however, didn't seem to take offense but laughed instead, a bright sound, fresh like a morning breeze. "Yeah, so I've been told."
The little shadow spent most of the day resting under the watchful eye and care of the unusual young mer.
Vivec was acceptable enough company, the shadow decided, though he still talked way too much. But the shade dreaded being alone again, and he was thankful for the company.
Vivec applied more of his concoction to the shadow's wounds, felt his forehead every now and then and encouraged him to drink. And while it was nice that the unusual mer was there to lend a hand whenever the little shade needed help, there was also the very reassuring fact that Vivec's wicked sharp Netch longhook was always within reach and he kept a watchful eye on the treeline.
The little shadow actually felt safe enough to doze off and rest some more.
Vivec left for the forest in the afternoon to get more water and hunt them dinner.
Though the shadow was afraid of being alone, he had put on a brave face and promised to sleep a bit more. Vivec had given his shoulder another reassuring squeeze. "Sleep, and you'll see, by the time you wake up, I'll be back already."
When the shadow did as he had been told, he saw her again, walking on the ashen shore. Away from him, out to sea.
He cried and called her name, but the wind carried away his words.
Desperate not to lose her again, he flew into a sprint, but suddenly, the gray sand was undisturbed no more.
Crab claws- no, fingers made of fish bone and crab claws suddenly reached for him, horrible, elongated hands that tried to catch his ankles.
There was no escaping them, they were everywhere, and the shadow screamed, struggling helplessly as they dug into his skin, pierced his feet, dragged him to the ground and pulled him under.
The last thing he saw before wet sand filled his lungs was Nall's silhouette, long hair and dress billowing in the wind as she walked away from him, into the setting sun.
The shadow awoke with a start, his eyes wet with tears. There was the sound of hasty steps approaching, so he sat up, alarmed.
Vivec was rushing through the camp like a small whirlwind, his Netch spear at the ready and dripping with fresh blood. With his other hand, he was busy shoveling his meager belongings into his pack.
When his eyes fell on the little shadow, there was fear in them and his voice was tense. "Get up, get up, get up- we have to leave, right now."
He grabbed the little shadow under his arms and unceremoniously hoisted him to his feet.
The shade blearily rubbed sleep and tears from his eyes. "...What happened?"
Vivec snatched the bedroll from under his feet as soon as he had stumbled aside. He roughly rolled it up before jabbing his spear into the sea's waves, washing off the worst of the blood.
"Dremora. The dark ones that brought the fire. They are on their way."
The shadow didn't need to be told twice.