The Shadow's Rift

An Origin Story

This story is the prequel to The Shadow’s Heart and is a response to the final flash fiction February prompt from

Bradley Ramsey

Enjoy.

A shockwave, shattering centuries of uneasy peace, rips through the Unbundu Delta.

A deep, guttural rumble echoes through Eldrinbogi, the village of the Árgaard, shaking the very roots of their existence. The ground beneath their feet vibrates with an unsettling intensity, sending ripples through the still waters of the River Eldrin. Concern racks the faces of the peaceful water fairies. Most cower, while others attempt to pinpoint the source of the sudden disturbance. One elder, his gaze fixed to the south, murmurs in a slow, trembling voice, “Huldradal.”

The Huldradal, a forbidden valley home to creatures of nightmare—creatures kept at bay by a pact forged by the ancient Árgaard. A mutual truce, a promise that as long as the Árgaard remain outside their valley, the denizens of The Huldradal stay within its walls. But now, the silence is shattered.

After the initial shockwave passes, an eerie silence falls over the Delta and the forest beyond. A creeping dread, thick and cloying, clings to the air.

---

In the Huldradal, the valley floor trembles once more, this time cracking and separating. A giant chasm yawns open, black smoke billowing from its depths. A form begins to coalesce within the swirling void of shadow and malice, devouring the very air that surrounds it. As its shape resolves, the part which resembles the creature’s head turns slowly and purposely toward the south. Its newly formed eyes, twin points of flame, seem focused on a single target.

---

Back in Eldrinbogi, scouts sent to the rim of The Huldradal return with a grim report: Umbrathrax, the shadow devourer, a long-dormant threat, has awakened. The alarm is sounded—prepare for an attack.

The call of the skelhorn has barely dissipated when the creature’s dark figure resolves over the Wigium forest, its dark energy swallowing the light from the luminous trees.

The Árgaard form a defensive barrier, their most experienced archers at the front line. Anja, her bow taut, listens to the rustling of scattering kinfolk behind her, but keeps her focus on the imposing foe before her. Will arrows kill a shadow beast? she thinks, as their leader gives the command to, “Fire!”

Anja watches in terror as Umbrathrax continues to advance. Her worst fears come to life as she confirms the beast is impervious to their arrows, its form shifting and dissolving, absorbing all light. She, the fiercest archer of the Árgaard, is powerless.

Desperation gnaws at her as the creature gets close enough to begin swallowing up the shadows and life force of her fellow warriors. Their forms, feeble in comparison to the monstrous beast, twist, break, and finally disappear into the void.

You have to do something! she pleads with herself.

“There is a way,” a voice as cold as the chasm’s depths rasps in her ear. She turns to find Old Man Vorlag, one of the village elders, a purported dealer in the black arts—strictly forbidden by the Árgaard code—standing behind her, a serious, almost sullen look on his face. With eyes like chips of obsidian, he expounds, “A dangerous way.”

Anja, her heart pounding with desperation, meets his gaze. “Tell me. Now!”

“The beast has but one weakness, the only thing blacker than itself,” Vorlag says, his voice a low whisper, barely audible above the din of the ongoing battle and the cries of the dying. He extracts a small trinket from his bag and holds it out to Anja.

“Night stone?” she asks.

“Yes, child. Obsidian, or night stone as you call it, achieves its dark color by absorbing all dark energy around it, even a beast as black as the Umbrathrax.”

She takes the stone from him and rolls it around in her hand, thinking the whole thing sounds too easy.

The old man, sensing the unspoken question, adds, “To kill it, you must enter the beast’s heart. A place of pure darkness, where no light, and thus no shadow, can exist.”

“But I have a shadow, so how do I get inside the beast?” Anja asks.

“Ah yes, your shadow,” Vorlag says, a gleam in his voice, bordering on pleasure. “You must separate from it.” He reaches into his bag and extracts an amulet—a leather cord with a crudely carved red crystal heart at its end. The heart emits a soft, pulsating glow, almost, it seems, in time with Anja’s heartbeat. “Wear this, and for a time, you will be unbound from your shadow and invisible to the beast. You can enter the darkness undetected.” He offers her the amulet.

Anja hesitates. Her shadow, her constant companion, her silent partner in every battle, every hunt. But the Umbrathrax is consuming her people, her home. “And the cost?” she queries.

“This magic is strictly forbidden among our folk. If you are detected, you will be banished to a place where you will suffer a fate much worse than the darkness which stands before you now.”

More cries ring out behind her. The slaughter is intense. Anja’s head spins, pitting the risk against the consequence. Her fate is sealed either way; the choice, she surmises, is to die a hero, or to die trying to kill this beast with arrows that cause it no harm...or the third option—a horror she tries to banish from her thoughts—to be caught weilding dark magic and be banished to a place so bad it defies naming.

She grabs the amulet then checks her quiver. Not that it will do any good where I'm going, she thinks almost as an afterthought. She turns from the old man and bolts—running to confront her own fears and uncertainty, and slay the beast that threatens to destroy her village.

Vorlag calls after her, hoping his final and vital instruction reaches her over the roar of battle, “The rejoining is automatic! When that crystal ceases to glow, the process has begun. Be swift, Anja! Do not be caught inside that beast when your shadow finds you!”

She doesn’t hear him, nor does she see the shadow she left behind, slowly slithering up the old man’s robe and into his bag. The old wizard drums his bag with a touch of dark satisfaction, turns, and slinks back to his sanctum.