Daughter of Dusk
Chapter Three: A Request

I never realized how big the Manor is. From the outside, it looks like depictions of castles I’ve seen in various storybooks, with large towers and dark vines crawling up the rocks. It paints a romantic image . . . in a way. It reminds me of a tale I read once, where a prince had to climb a tower to reach his love. Maybe it took place in the Manor. But, if that were the case, I’d feel bad for both parties involved.

The ground is rough, uneven beneath my slippers. How fascinating. The dry blades of muted green grass gently rub against my ankles, making me giggle a few times as my skin stands to attention. Further away from the Manor’s walls stands the forest, which I have read about, but never had the chance to see. The trees stand taller than the large Manor, concealing it, in a way. Masking its secrets. The pointed leaves of the trees are a dark green colour, with the bark almost black. A light woody smell that I don’t recognize wafts through the area; likely due to the trees, I conclude. There’s no sun above me, my eyes instead meeting a light gray, overcast sky, which I expected, but I can’t help but feel a small twinge of disappointment.

Zala is beautiful in its own unique way, but I can’t get the images of my imaginary Enas out of my mind. The colours of a sunset, a blue sky . . . I’ll take the beauty of another world over the Manor any day, even if the sun would take my powers away . . . without an amulet, that is.

Soren steps beside me in the next moment. “So, what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” I breathe. I run my fingers along the sharp ridges of the base of a mountainous rock that stands behind the Manor; being careful not to cut myself on the points. I glance up, the dark stone spiralling higher than I could have ever imagined, looking as though the point must touch the gray sky in some way. “I mean, I had read about the mountain before, and the forest, but now that I’m seeing them for the first time, I – I don’t even know what to think.”

As the words leave me, I look back to the Manor as rebelliousness swells in me.

I did it. I finally left that awful place.

I contemplate the possibility of staying in Zala and running away from the Manor for good, before deciding against it. Father is the ruler of this realm; I know he’d replace me if I stayed in Zala. I can’t permanently leave the Manor until I know I can get to Enas. That’s the only way I’ll be truly free.

“So, um, where’s your village?” I ask.

“Just through the trees there. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk. I’ll show you.”

He leads me towards the trees and onto a forest path, where we walk in comfortable silence once again, giving me time to really take in our surroundings. The trees arch high above us – higher than I ever thought trees could grow – with their branches and leaves connecting together from opposite sides of the path, forming a makeshift barrier around us. My mind drifts to how big this forest must be, to all the small creatures that call their branches home. And as I gaze up through the dark leaves, I feel small. For a reason other than my family.

Finally, Soren speaks. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mmhmm.” I bring my attention back to him.

“I, um, I was just thinking about your healing. How long have you been able to do that?”

I shudder as an unpleasant memory comes to mind, but he thankfully doesn’t seem to notice. “They showed up for the first time when I was nine. So, eight years then, I suppose. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking – er –” He takes a breath. “Before I ask you this, you don’t have to say yes, I know I only just met you.”

“I know.” I pause. “Is something wrong?”

He stops walking, turning towards me with a newfound seriousness in his crystal eyes. “It’s my mother, she’s sick. No one is really sure why, or what sort of disease she caught, but it’s been having a serious impact on her, especially recently. It’s made her so weak that she can hardly get out of bed. And now that I have to be at the Manor so much. . .” His voice breaks.

An ache fills my heart. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“It’s okay.” He takes a deep breath, his tone changing to that of hope. “But I was just thinking, can your healing help something like that?”

Could it?

“I’m not sure,” I think aloud as excitement pulses through me. “But I could certainly try.”

His features light up. “You’re serious?”

I nod as the shadow of reality nips at my heels. “I – I only ask that you keep it secret. I wouldn’t want it getting back to Darius is all.

“Of course. But – you’re sure this is okay of me to ask? I don’t want to pressure you or anything.”

“You’re not pressuring me,” I say simply. “I’ve only ever used my healing on smaller injuries for myself, but what’s the point in having a gift like that if I can’t help people? I’m willing to try.”

He covers his mouth and lets out a shaky exhale, looking down before meeting my eyes again. “Sorry. You don’t know how much this means to me.” He runs his hands through his whitish-blonde hair. “I owe you. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

Hmm, maybe he could help me replace someone who knows transportation magic. But I won’t ask for my side of the favour until I know whether I can heal his mother or not. “I’m happy to help, really.”

“So, do, um, do you think you’d be able to see her tonight?”

I pause. Assuming the worst-case scenario, Father knows what I’m up to. If that’s so, he would most likely send me to the dungeons to prevent another escape. And then I don’t know the next time I’d be able to leave with Soren or help his mother, let alone replace someone who can teach me transportation magic. I’d be trapped until the spar, with no way to replace the information I need to get to Enas, to escape my fate in this dark world.

I don’t want to take any chances, especially if Father is involved.

I nod. “Tonight may be my only opportunity. And I’d hate for her to suffer any longer.”

Soren quickly leads me through the rest of the trees towards his village, his excitement palpable in the air. The enthusiasm is shared, but part of me is nervous I won’t be able to perform, and all this will be for nothing. Because what if I can’t heal her? Soren will likely lose his mother, and if that’s the case, asking for his help is out of the question. An innocent life will be lost, and I’ll be back at square one, with no potential leads in my search for transportation magic.

I push the thoughts from my mind. Don’t fret about what hasn’t happened yet, Luna.

We make our way over to a treeline and he stops, moving aside so I can see the surroundings just past the trees.

My jaw drops at the sight.

In the near distance is a quaint village, made up of a collection of black wooden small houses standing in a circle. A small fire burns in the center of the community, with benches scattered around for people to sit. There’s a collection of people surrounding the fire, about ten or so people; less than I thought would be here. They all appear to be about mine and Soren’s age. But then again, that’s not necessarily a fair assumption. After Shadow Wielders turn eighteen or nineteen, we age much slower, and thus, we tend to look younger than we actually are. One of the good things about having the blessing of a long life, I suppose; I believe that’s something that’s shared by the residents of Enas and Zala alike. The average lifespan is 200 years if memory serves.

They are all dressed in simple clothes, most of them wearing blacks, browns, and grays, with the girls opting for skirts – like me – paired with long-sleeved tunics that the boys also don. Many of them have dark hair, but about a quarter of the people have silvery white hair like Soren. But one thing that’s consistent about all of them is that they’re all starkly pale, though none of them quite match the eerie complexion of Father.

I look down at my vibrating, olive-tone hands as the shadow of reality nips my heels.

Is this really a good idea? I can’t be seen by anyone outside the Manor. If the people around the fire saw me, and Father heard rumours of a strange girl walking around the nearby village, he’d know it was me for sure. And then what would come to pass?

“Everything okay, Luna?”

I shake my head out of my daze as I focus on Soren again. “Yes.” I look back to the group surrounding the fire. “They’re not the only ones that live here, are they?”

“Nope. I think they’re just having a little party. There are over one hundred people that live in the village. That’s why there are so many houses,” he explains.

“Oh.” I look back down at my hands again; they’ve stopped shaking . . . for now. “Do – um – do you have something I could use to hide my face or something? I just, I’d rather not be seen. I wouldn’t want it to get back to Darius.”

He points to one of the houses closest to the treeline: a picturesque, two-storey house that looks like it came out of a fairy tale, with brick accents and a small porch. “That’s where I live. We should be able to slip through without anyone seeing.” He turns to me. “If all this is outside your comfort zone there’s no pressure to do it.”

I look down for half a second as the darkness in my mind retreats back. “No, I want to help.” I look back to the pathway that leads to Soren’s house. It’s not too far, and everyone’s too focused on the party to pay attention to what’s happening over here.

This should work.

“If we’re quick about it, it should be okay,” I assure.

Soren grins. “Sounds good.”

We walk out from the treeline as he guides me towards his small house, being careful to stay out of sight, and we thankfully get to the building without any problems.

His house is even more enchanting up close, with the wooden beams being home to decorative carvings in the forms of flowers and leaves and general filigree. Other beams have more geometric patterns, with intricate linework that seem to be communicating something to me. It’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen in the Manor, including the library. But not because it’s ornate; it’s because care was put into every line.

It’s something so small, but it makes this place evoke feelings that I’d imagine a home would.

The door creaks softly as we head inside, and I get a brief look at a living room. It’s complete with a few pictures on the walls and two cushioned loveseats, with a small, handmade dark wood coffee table in the center. There are a few nicks in the wood, suggesting how long it’s been here, and the memories that accompany it. A smell I don’t recognize wafts through the room, but the closest thing I can tie to it is a warmer version of the woody scent outside.

Soren leads me up a narrow staircase to my right that leads to the second floor. The wood creaks with each step, catching me off guard, but I try to ignore it.

After a brief time in a hallway, I’m led into what must be his mother’s room. A window to my left filters what little light there is in Zala into the small area, shining on the sheets and illuminating the room in a soft, cool glow. On the walls, there are several tapestries that appear to be handmade, depicting forests and mountains and rivers, all below a gray sky. The delicate, swirling needlework makes me a little envious of whoever embroidered them; I wish I had that kind of patience.

In the center of the room lies a slender-looking woman with long white hair. Parts of it look unkempt, with pieces surrounding her fair features and silvery eyes. Soren may have features that I’m sure are paternal, but he and his mother have the same warmth to their energy. However, she is the one person I’ve seen outside the Manor who is as pale as Father. But where his complexion suggests strength, hers, unfortunately, emits frailty.

“Mother,” Soren starts, grazing my arm with his fingers as he heads into the room, gently taking her hand as she smiles at him, before her gaze falls to me. She doesn’t look at me with suspicion, but there’s still unease in her face. But that’s likely just because I’m a stranger to her.

“Who is this?” Her voice is so soft I have to strain to hear her.

Soren looks between us. “This is Luna. I think she can help you.”

He beckons me over to her bedside, but her eyes stay on me.

“I have a gift of healing,” I explain softly. “I have only ever healed myself, but would like to do anything I can to help you, if you’ll allow me.”

After several moments, his mother nods, and I notice how shallow her breathing is, her body fighting to get enough air with every inhale.

“May I ask where you are feeling pain or discomfort? It can help me specify.”

Soren’s mother looks at him and nods again to allow him to speak for her.

“It’s mostly her lungs, I believe. I don’t remember exactly when it onset, but it’s been at least a few days, right?”

She nods in agreement, and the two of them look at me hopefully.

The nervousness in the back of my mind shows its face again, but it quickly cowers away as I analyze the situation.

There’s no reason why this wouldn’t work.

No, if I want Soren’s help, I have to make this happen.

Besides, If I can heal myself, what’s stopping me from healing others?

“Okay,” I say with a breath. “Let me see what I can do.”