#silva trecc

[silverpaintedstars]

The Son of Shadows, Chapter Twelve (where i literally forgot to post this until i went to write tonight, shhh)

@accidental-spice @kanerallels @bookdragon1811 @fairytale-lights

Chapter Twelve: Under the Same Stars

That night they made a makeshift camp when darkness fell. Rapier crafted a fire and they all sat around it, soaking in the warmth. It was early autumn and the nights were falling colder around them, more each day. 

Elliot shivered, his hand stroking Niskim, who had settled in his lap. There wasn’t—surprisingly—an argument or conversation going on, just the three sitting silently, save the crackling and snapping of the fire. 

Elliot hadn’t been sure if it would be, um, safe letting Silva see that he was an Elf, despite Rapier having revealed to them both. He hadn’t had a chance to ask Rapier yet, but wasn’t about to take down his hood himself. 

Rapier was quiet, staring into the flames and bending a small twig in his hands, snapping it and throwing the bits into the fire. Silva sat slightly away, more towards the shadows, ripping up grass around her and playing with it. She had been strangely distant since the Wycat attack that morning,  not being as–defensive and loud as usual. Elliot wondered whether it had to do something with her hat being wrecked, but wasn’t sure what that would have to do with it.

Rapier sighed finally, throwing the rest of the stick—small and beaten down by this point—into the fire. “We’ll reach Feriene sometime tomorrow,” he said, as if they didn’t know that. Elliot still appreciated the reminder. 

In his lap, Niskim yawned, stretching himself, settling his paws on Elliot’s arm. Rapier looked at the Wycat and smiled. “He really does have a liking to you.”

Elliot nodded, running a finger over Niskim’s soft wings. The Wycat yawned in his sleep. 

Rapier glanced at Silva, who had about cleared the grass around her. She still hadn’t said anything, which Elliot was finding really odd—at least for her. In the time that she had been with them, Silva was usually either going on about something or arguing with them. Sure, she was quiet, but not for long. At least, up until now. 

“Your voice finally gone?” Rapier asked her after a moment. He sounded a bit hopeful but Elliot wasn’t sure whether it was real hopefulness. 

She scowled at him. “No.”

“Well, you’re being awfully quiet,” he pointed out. 

“So now I have the standard to live to of constantly talking?” Silva said with an air of defense.

“No, thought it seems like it’s something you do. A lot,” Rapier said. 

“Yes, it’s called conversations,” Silva huffed. 

“And you also talk when no one is interested in holding a conversation,” Rapier added. 

SIlva glared at the back of his head. 

There was another moment of quiet, the crackling of the dying fire filling in the silence. Elliot yawned, against his will, Rapier glancing across at him. “We should sleep now,” he said, in response to Elliot. 

“How long will it be tomorrow to get to Ferienetown?” Elliot asked.

“Noontime, probably,” Rapier answered, “if we make well enough time. The sky was clearing out so we shouldn’t have to worry too much about rain.”

Which was a relief. Elliot had had about enough of walking through rain at this point. And Feriene was going to be wet enough on it’s own, what with being built on a lake and the such. 

Elliot was going to ask just what was awaiting for them at Ferienetown, but knowing Rapier, they weren’t going to get anything else out of him than he’d already said. Which turned this all into some form of a twisted guessing game that led them constantly second-thinking every step they took. 

Maybe just once on this entire excursion Rapier would actually answer all their questions in whole. Or maybe that was more of a far-fetched dream, nothing real enough to happen. 

Well, maybe they could get lucky one time. 

Elliot yawned again, flushing red when Silva stared at him, but he couldn’t quite help it, honestly. The day had been tiring, traveling the whole time with not many rests. So who was Silva to blame him for that?  

“We can—and should—sleep now,” Rapier said a moment later, waving his hand in the air. The fire flickered down to just a small flame and Elliot flinched. Right—Rapier could do that, but it still was surprising. And if he was going to be honest, a bit unnatural. But even his own people could do things. And what with this new sort of power Elliot had found himself capable of, did that make him the more unnatural? Everyone was different in their own way, he supposed, and it was up to the others to judge just how ‘unnatural’ it was. 

“Alright,” Silva muttered. “I’m tired and would very much like to get rest now.” 

She wasn’t the only one. And as they all settled down and tried to get warm around the remnants of the fire, Elliot’s mind went back to the question of what made people unnatural to others. 

Would it just be by the fact that some had the abilities to do things that some people couldn’t? The reason that they could just be able to manipulate certain elements and proprieties and not have to damage a law of the world in the process? For the most part though, Elliot figured, most Falsus were just misunderstood. And in Lucero—where Elves ruled—-Falsus were given a bad name. 

Elves were supposed to be feared and honored, what with the country being ruled by them. But in places other than Orlem and perhaps Rocstrett, which was by the coast and groups of powerful Elves lived there, Elves—-among all other Falsus—were treated as the lowest of the low. They were seen almost worse than Witches, Grelphs or even Haunts, though not many Haunts lived in Lucero. Elves had the power to invade on your mind and twist it—something that proved them untrustable. 

Elliot shivered, turning over on his side to face the fire. Niskim had curled up somewhere near Elliot’s head, his small, rhythmic breathing calming. 

So Elves were already feared, and now, with what Elliot found he could do? Was this something that all Elves could do? Or was this just something else to separate him from the others, another jagged reminder that he was not like the others. 

Somewhere a few miles off and under the same sky, a group of four sat by a dying fire. They were tired from a day of chasing off after the Grelph’s newest arrangement. First, though, they had to guess which direction the Elf boy had gone. The Grelph had expected they would be leaving the next morning, and the others in her group had known better than to not trust her mind. So far she had been right.

The girl stretched, her long blonde braid swinging over her shoulder. “I’m going to sleep now,” she announced to no one in particular. 

“By all means, Thillis, go on ahead and spare us having to listen to you any longer,” the Elf boy grouched. He had had a run in with a particularly feral seeming Wycat and had a bite on his arm. 

Askance glanced over to her left, where the last member of her sorry group sat just outside the light of the fire. Taking to the shadows. She didn’t blame him, really. His long, dark hair fell over his eyes as he sat against a tree, staring into the fire. He and the girl were the only ones amongst them who weren’t Falsus, and Askance wondered if that made them feel uneasy. 

Almost as if he could hear her thinking, Maverick snapped his gaze towards Askance. His green eyes reflected the firelight. “What?” He asked her, almost a bit defensively. 

“You have been quiet,” Askance said, her long, sharp nails tapping on her knee. He was in the presence of an assassin and a thief, so she supposed he probably had a reason. She still wasn’t sure why Loot had chosen him for this group—he did seem to have some sort of skill with a weapon, but surely that couldn’t  be the only reason. The Elf boy, Brenan, was there because he was the brother of the target. Thillis, because she had skill as a thief. But Maverick? This dark, quiet boy who couldn’t be over seventeen? Why was he here? Why did the king of this scarforsaken kingdom choose him?

Askance could ask him, but she doubted the boy would even answer. 

Maverick’s eyes roved over the group a moment, flicking over every detail, then returning sharply back to Askance. “You know, it’s a bit unnerving to be stared at by an assassin?”

Askance let out an unamused breath. “I can only imagine.”

Maverick returned her expression. “Why don’t we just move through the night and catch up to them then?”

Askance had pondered (HER ORB) that choice. “We give them time to begin to feel relaxed, time to feel like they outsmarted us. And let them think we were miles behind them.”

“We are miles behind them.”

“Unimportant,” Askance muttered. Now she just thought Loot had given her these people purely for the fact that they may make her lose her mind. It wouldn’t be too far of a possibility. 

“Unimportant until you realize that it’s hard to catch up to them if we’re too far behind them,” Maverick muttered under his breath. 

Askance turned her head to glare at him. “You doubt me?”

Maverick let out a breath through his nose. “I’m not here because I wanted to be.”

“Oh, do not think I didn’t figure that out.”  Askance let out a cough. 

“Mm, and I don’t figure you picked this whole…” Maverick waved a hand around their sorry group. “Dream team or whatever.” 

“I usually work alone,” Askance growled. 

“So you’re telling me that you are so unreliable you needed not one but three babysitters?” Maverick asked.

“Are you not aware I could kill you and not care?” Askance asked. 

“I don’t think anyone could not be,” Maverick said carefully. “Aware, that is. With that slightly menacing stick and all.” 

Askance glared at him another second before diverting her gaze to the dying flame. She didn’t need to spend her time bantering with this boy. There were plans to make. 

[silver-attempts-art]

@pigeontnt I just HAD to draw bunny silva

[silverpaintedstars]

Random question!!

If your female OCs had to go to a ball, what sort of dresses would they wear?

so, uh, why this took so long? I decided to draw it teehee

Silva and Caelum are freaking majestic

[silverpaintedstars]

The Son of Shadows, Chapter Eleven!! We reached fifty pages with this, which is a little mind-blowing. Also, we had beautful bAnter in this chapter. It’s so very fun to write because Silva is basically me. 

@accidental-spice @kanerallels @fairytale-lights @bookdragon1811

Chapter Eleven: A Breakfast With a Side of Confusion

On the bright side, Reaper’s eyes weren’t half as bad as Elliot had expected. But…they were slitted, the eyes of a Warlem. Which also seemed to fit on that same hand. They also seemed to explain the eye mask–Warlems would be in just as much danger as an Elf in Holden. 

Silva let out some sort of noise, her face looking both confused and a little bit disgusted at the same time. 

Reaper didn’t look like he blamed her in any way though as he looked at both of them. Elliot wasn’t disgusted at all, just a little bit confused. Though he wasn’t sure what Silva would do knowing that Reaper was a Falsus–the term for Elves, Witches, Warlems and any other different type of people. Elliot understood how Reaper felt, in a way, even though they weren’t the same sort of people. 

“That definitely feels better,” Reaper sighed, fingering the edges of the mask on the ground. “I’m trusting you with knowing what I am, so don’t do anything rash, alright?” He was talking to the both of them, but Elliot got the feeling it was more directed to Silva, who hadn’t said anything yet–a tad strange for her. 

“I won’t,” she said, her face slowly morphing back to the guarded and demanding expression she usually seemed to wear. “So Reaper isn’t your name then?”

“No,” he replied, tossing his head back. “Rapier.” 

Rapier. Elliot tested that out in his head. 

“Okay, then where are we going and why?” Silva demanded, clearly taking advantage of if he was going to answer questions, she would ask as many as she could. 

“I already told you. Ferieinetown, then Arpad. And then Ardoran.” 

Silva blinked. “Wait, what?” 

“Ardoran,” Reaper–Rapier–repeated, taking another bite of the bread.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Silva said, holding her hands up. “Ardoran isn’t real, you know?” A small, slightly crazy laugh escaped her. 

“I know,” Rapier answered, nonchalantly. 

There was a moment. “You are…leading us to a place that only exists in bedtime stories,” Silva clarified slowly, with all the patience she could seem to muster. “You really are crazy.” 

Elliot took a nervous bite of his apple. 

“Yes, but where did the stories come from?” Rapier asked. “I know I can’t quite convince you, but it is real.” 

“He’s definitely crazy,” she muttered. “Okay, so once we reach this totally real place, then what?” 

“Things,” Rapier answered, waving a hand through the air. 

“Why are we going to Arpad?” Elliot asked after another bite. 

“I have arrangements to see to there,” Rapier answered. “I also have somewhere we can stay if we need to.”

“An insane asylum?” Silva muttered under her breath. 

Elliot took a breath, readying himself for the next thing he was going to say. “Did-did you find me outside of Holden?”

Rapier swirled his hand around. “Almost.” 

“Did–did I wake up there?”

“No.” Rapier took a second before finishing. “When you weren’t found dead in Orlem they were going to drown you.” 

Elliot swallowed, taking a few heavy breaths. They would’ve killed him anyway. So…the king really had tried to kill him. Of course, it was what Elliot had been…expecting from that situation, but still, knowing that that was really what had happened, not just something that he had been guessing on. 

But then…”How did you know?” Elliot asked Rapier. 

Rapier tilted his head to the side. “I have my means.”

“So did you bring me outside Holden then?” 

Rapier took a deep breath before answering him. “Well, yes, though it was not all me.” 

“Magic, then?” Silva said, making both Rapier and Elliot jump, forgetting that she was there. Her face the expression of boredom and bemusement as they both turned to her. “What? Don’t your people have ‘powers’ or something?”

“We do,” Rapier answered. “And while I don’t always use them, I will if it comes to that.”  Elliot had read about the ‘powers’ that Witches and Warlems had. They weren’t quite like the Elvish gift, more elemental in some ways, while the Elves’ power was more of a…mental sort.

“So-so you used them to…bring me here?” Elliot asked, half nervous for Rapier’s response. “Powers, I mean.” 

“Enough,” Rapier answered. Elliot waited for him to elaborate on that, but he didn’t, taking one of his last bites of that chunk of bread that he had been working on. 

“Are you going to explain to me what you’re talking about?” Silva asked, clearly annoyed. She was probably also confused, and Elliot agreed with her. 

Rapier waited a second. “No,” he replied, taking the last bite. 

She let out a frustrated noise. “Fine then. Maybe I’ll just go back and find someone and tell them all I know.” 

Rapier didn’t seem all too concerned. “If you’re so focused on revenge I’ll just remind you that if you did that it might end your brother’s life.”

Silva glared at him, reaching over and grabbing an apple out, taking a vicious bite, still keeping her eyes on him. He, in turn, stared back at her. 

Elliot took a nervous bite, glancing back between the both of them. If they were both going to do this the entire time to Ferieinetown–no, Arpad—no, no, wait, Ardoran, then that would be a very, very long trip. As long as Silva didn’t try to kill Rapier eventually though, he figured, they would be alright. Well, mostly. 

He had heard of Ardoran before—but it was just like Silva had said, as a story for those who could afford to dream. Which wasn’t everyone, by a far chance. Though that was one of the few subjects he couldn’t find a book under, so Elliot didn’t know much about it. Silva clearly did, though. He did know that it seemed to be a home for Falsus—a place where they could live safely. 

“So we’ll be at Ferieine by tomorrow?” Elliot meekly asked, mostly to distract them both from whatever intense staring competition was downfalling. 

Rapier winked at Silva, startling her, before turning to Elliot. “If we cover good ground and weather permitting, yes, we should reach it by late afternoon.”

“And I suppose we won’t learn why we’re going there until we’re in the thicket of some danger or the like,” Silva said, rolling her eyes. 

“I have to…meet someone there,” Rapier answered. 

“Okay, who?” she asked. 

“Some friends,” he answered. 

She mock-gasped. “Could it be that you’ve told us actual information? For once?” 

Rapier dryly stared at her, picking up his eyemask and putting it in one of the bags. Standing up, he offered a hand to her, Silva slapping it and standing up herself. 

“We mainly have forest to cross through,” Rapier said as Elliot got up. “I haven’t traveled this way in a time, but I’m fairly certain it’s all safe.” 

“Fairly safe?” Silva repeated, not sounding at all convinced. 

Rapier waved a hand. “Something like that.” He began to walk off in one direction, his scarf waving out behind him. 

She stared at the back of his head a moment before trudging off after him. “If you really think that I’ll just willingly follow a definitely crazy man somewhere that may not even be safe then you are dead wrong.” 

The sounds of their bantering drifted on as Elliot followed them both, taking small bites of his bread as place of something to hold his sanity. 

                                                                 ~~   

It was only about maybe a–very long–hour before some sort of conflict happened, which Elliot counted as a kind of miracle, judging by the amount of noise Silva was making. The woods that they were making their way through had been ablaze with noise–birds, larger animals and the like making their chatter and sounds. Then, all of a sudden, with no warning, silence dropped on the trees. 

“What kind of person really doesn’t like the sea?” Silva was going on with at that current moment. She really was intent on disrupting their entire mental wellbeing was the fact that Elliot had determined by now. “It’s just sand, and water, and maybe more sand, which would make total sense, seeing as under all this water is indeed sand—”

“Be quiet,” Rapier interrupted, stopping mid-step and resting a hand on his sword. 

“Excuse me?” Silva retorted, shooting a look at him. 

“I said be quiet,” Rapier repeated. Elliot paused behind them, casting nervous looks around them. The woods had grown thicker the farther that they had walked, and now he couldn’t see far in any direction at all. There were thornbushes and strange plants along the crowded forest floor, many times catching the hem of Elliot’s cloak. He didn’t know what Rapier had seen—or heard—but he didn’t see anything himself. Though by now he definitely did trust the man’s instincts over his own.

Rapier kept looking around, clearly having heard something, slowly starting to draw his sword, the metallic shhhk noise the only sound. For a moment there was total silence, each of them holding their breath, even Silva being quiet. 

Then a flurry of movement exploded from the trees, and Silva screamed as something tore at her, then something at Elliot’s face, blocking his view. It was a flurry, and felt like it had claws as he tore blindly at whatever it was, getting nowhere. 

He heard the telltale noise of Rapier’s blade through the air, slashing at whatever was attacking them. Elliot finally tore the thing off his face and dodged to the left, getting a good view finally. 

They were winged creatures with large ears, tails floating behind them as they  flew around the three of them. One had torn Silva’s hat off, and Rapier had cut one of the others, wounding it. They were Wycats, as far as Elliot could remember in that moment of flurry. 

Rapier had a small scratch across the side of his forehead, nothing serious though, as he pointed his sword at the Wycat, who was hovering midair just over his head. He glared at it, using his left hand to wipe at his forehead. 

Silva had somehow managed to pin a Wycat under her boot, which didn’t surprise Elliot. Her hat, however, was shredded on the forest ground. The Wycat who had attacked Elliot had flown-–rather wobbibbilly—-over to join the one by Rapier, which Elliot was completely fine with. He’d read about Wycats before, though he hadn’t remembered anything about them being hostile, or attacking. Though in this case they clearly had, and clearly they were also Wycats. Of course, some of them could be like that. 

Of course it would be their luck to find the only flock that attacked, and then be attacked by them. 

Not for the first time, Elliot was glad they had someone like Rapier with them. 

Rapier sighed, lowering his blade cautiously. “They’re just animals,” he said. “There’s not really much I could do.” 

Silva was mussing her hair. “I mean, you could just affectionately murder them.” 

Rapier stared at her a second. “No,” he said, sighing again and sliding his blade back into the sheath. “I don’t know why they would have attacked, though. Perhaps they were hungry.” 

“I volunteer you,” Silva muttered, looking a tad worried for some reason as she kept messing with her hair for some reason. 

“Funny how I would say the same,” Rapier murmured. 

“So–so we’re just going to leave them?” Elliot said, looking at the two hovering Wycats. The third had already flown off. 

“You want to keep one?” Silva said, looking at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was after spending any time with the two of them. 

“Well, I don’t know,” he said. “You said they were hungry? That one looks so young too.” 

Rapier studied them. The one on the left was smaller, frailer. He had large eyes and his wings wobbled after keeping him up so long. “I cannot drag around a pet as well.” 

Was Elliot really going to bargain for a pet? Well...yes. “It’d be something to be preoccupied with,” he said under his breath. Other than listening to the two of them banter on. One hour had been strenuous enough. If there still was another day to Ferieinetown—then well, he wasn’t sure if he’d make it. 

Rapier didn’t say anything for a few moments, and in that timespan, the larger Wycat flew off the join the other one. But the smaller one stayed—-maybe he’d taken a liking to them, or maybe he knew he might get food. A part of Elliot was glad. 

“Fine,” Rapier finally said. “But I have full permission to kill it if it gets annoying or eats too much. We have to fend for ourselves, don’t forget.” 

Elliot walked over and stood by the small Wycat, who looked down at him with that small face, and to his surprise, slowly flew down, landing on Elliot’s shoulder. 

“He has a liking to you,” Rapier observed with a trace of a smile. 

“Of course,” Silva muttered. “If that thing gets near me I’ll strangle it.” 

“You have to name it now,” Rapier said as he began to walk again. 

“Name it?” Elliot asked, rubbing the Wycat’s head. 

“What do I say when I’m yelling bloody murder?” Silva said, walking behind Rapier, Elliot picking up a pace after them both. 

“Oh,” Elliot said. He didn’t quite want Silva to kill his new…pet. But he did agree—it would need a name. “Well, uh, I’ll name it–Niskim.” 

Silva snorted. “Niskim?”

“It means companion, in Andromarchen,” Elliot mumbled as the Wycat gave a small mewl, making himself comfortable on Elliot’s shoulder.

“Of course you would know Andromarchen,” Silva huffed. 

“It might be useful someday,” he replied. 

“All right, so we’re going to just travel two countries over to Andromarche and you’ll be our personal tour guide?” Silva said. “Because really, you seem very fitting for that task.”

[silverpaintedstars]

The Son of Shadows, Chapter Seven! Which I whipped up pretty quick, heh. This was a good one, finally getting to bring Silva in and all that. @accidental-spice @kanerallels @bookdragon1811 (also tumblr is being weird with links, so yeah)

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | 

Chapter Seven: In Which There Are Still Many, Many Questions (But Some Get Resolved, For a Change)

Silva's house was small, like all the other buildings in Holden. Wooden and squished between two larger houses of brick, it looked very misshapen and lopsided, but it all added to the charm, then. She led them through a small back door the squeaked on the hinges and threatened to come back and hit them after they'd passed through.

Inside was cramped, low ceilings and dark paneling on the walls. They walked into a kitchen/living area, and there were three doors by the front and left walls. One must've been the front door, and Silva explained that one was her mother's, the other one the one Silva and her brother shared.

Silva had a brother? Why did that come across as surprising, for some reason? She didn't exactly strike Elliot as the sisterly type. Maybe that was just first expressions, then.  That, or she just didn't like new people much.

The door to her mother's room was closed, and Silva said she was inside. She tried to nonchalantly say it, but Elliot heard the tone of remorse, almost, hidden under the words. Her brother was at school in Underhold, until about one, Silva said.

After the runthrough of the house she brought them back to the main area, letting them sit down at the wobbly round wooden table. Silva leaned against a cabinet and folded her arms, arching an eyebrow. She hadn't taken her hat off.

"I suppose you're waiting for an explanation," Reaper said after a moment of her staring them down. Elliot had shrunken back in his chair, not wanting to meet the hard gaze that she was directing at him. He had kept his hood up, of course, not wanting her to have the knowledge of him being an Elf, and also not knowing what she would do with that.

Silva nodded once, her hat flopping slightly. That strange green mark along her jaw was brighter in this light, contrasting against her paler toned skin. She unfolded her arms and rested them on the counter behind her, splaying her fingers out.

There was a pause. "I cannot give you one here," Reaper said after a moment of...considering? Elliot had been hoping that Reaper would've decided to explain--Silva wasn't the only confused one here. Though he knew that he didn't have her level of confidence--or arrogance--to ask Reaper for one.

She didn't say anything for a moment as well, choosing her reply. "Then don't drag me all the way up here for nothing. What was your plan?"

"My plan? To bring me and him up to the surface to regroup," Reaper said, nodding his head to Elliot. "You were in no way part of the plan."

"Then let me go back down."

"I am not holding you captive here. You may go, if you truly wish. Though I would not if I were you. You overheard somethings you should not have. Now you are considered a liability to us."

"That word again. Liability. Why?"

Reaper sighed. "There are people...who will go to no reach to drag that information out of you."

Silva shrugged off the counter and crossed the room to the far wall, then back. "People."

"Very dangerous people."

Askance? There were more like her? This was going to shape up to something interesting, Elliot thought with dread. The question why still floated there in the air, so tangible and physical he could've knocked it down right onto Reaper to get him to answer it.  

Silva hopped up onto the counter. "I'm still not getting it completely, you know?"

"You have a connection to your brother, do you not?" Reaper asked in a low tone.

Silva blinked, then hesitated a moment. "Yes...? What do you care?"

"They would kill him once they knew what you know." Reaper said in a tone that was almost a step up from serious. It gave Elliot chills, as if Reaper knew exactly what he was talking about. As if he was a bringer of these words from experience.  

The words hung in the air a moment and Silva wrapped her arms around herself, crossing her legs. She drew in a breath. "Then what do I need to do?'

She almost sounded serious now. It was new.

"We will need to leave Holden within the next day," Reaper said, not looking at Elliot, who shot a glance at the back of his head. Leaving? They just got there! Elliot hadn't even had barely a full two days to adjust to, well, anything. "And you will need to come with us."

She laughed, a short, humorless laugh. "Leave?"

Reaper didn't say anything, just looked at her.

She stopped. "Leave." This time she wasn't questioning the word, merely Reaper's sanity for suggesting that.

"Yes."

"To where?"

A completely plausible question.

"The end destination? I'm not quite sure. But from here we would head to Arpad," Reaper said, the end of his scarf draping onto the table.

Arpad. Elliot's hands twitched at the memory of there, twitching with the memory of what he almost did there. Of how he might not be right here now if he had done it.

It being his father's task for him. His final test, Elliot supposed. To dispose of a family of crown traitors, all the way out on a farm, in the middle of nowhere. A family of a mother and two children. The father, Elliot didn't know of. All he did know was that he couldn't kill anyone, end any life, much less an innocent family's.

The world came back into focus and he found himself back in that chair in Silva's house. Silva was still asking Reaper questions, and he in turn answering them.  

"I have a brother and a mother to care for," Silva was saying. "I can't just leave."

"We can't take a child with us. Won't your mother be well enough to at least care for them?" Reaper asked.

"No. Maybe for a few days. But I provide any and all income, and there isn't much to go off of if I leave," Silva told him. "I don't suppose that having responsibility was a part of your plan?"

"Nothing related to you in the slightest was a part of my plan," Reaper said calmly, looking over at Elliot, who had barely said a word doing the whole ordeal.

Elliot blinked. "Are-are we really leaving?"

"No, I bet he just made all that up," Silva muttered. "Would be a million times easier."

"Yes. I know that it all seems...confusing right now, but I promise, once it is safe to, I will explain," Reaper said. Seems confusing was right. Probably the only 'right' thing here.

Silva hopped off the counter. "Tomorrow, you're leaving?"

Reaper nodded.

"I'll need to think of something to do for them, if you're going to so rudely rip me out of my life," she scoffed. "And explain to Scaphis."

"Scaphis?" Elliot asked.

"My brother," Silva replied, crossing the room to the back door that they came from. "I don't suppose you're going to want to stay here, then."

"It doesn't seem like you have quite enough space, but yes," Reaper said.

She narrowed an eyebrow. "I don't deal well with house-roasting, mask man."

"Reaper," he said.

She rolled her eyes and walked out, going to who knows where. Judging just by the amount of time Elliot had known her, she probably was going to deal this over with herself.

"She's...nice?" Elliot said after a moment, trying to break it.

Reaper turned to face him. "Very," he drily agreed. He stood up, the chair screeching as he did. "I don't want to take her. She wasn't supposed to be there." He began to pace the short distance of the room. "But Askance will, believe me, find a way to find what she knows. Askance will do anything to get it." He stopped, and though Elliot couldn't see his face, he knew he was looking right at him. "And I'm not the one to endanger people who do not deserve it."

Elliot was afraid to ask what he did to the ones who did deserve it.

"For now? We will stay here, for the next day or so." Reaper walked over to the same door Silva had walked out of. He paused mid-opening the door. "We can leave the house, assuming that Askance did not see us leave. Be cautious, though." Then he walked out, leaving Elliot alone.

Elliot wasn't quite ready to leave the house yet, half the reason of he didn't have anywhere else to go. He could just wander the streets, pretending he had a reason to, and nothing on his mind to weigh him down, but that would just be lying to himself.

There were still so many things that he had to ask Reaper. So many questions that he was not going to let go unanswered. With a sudden rush of determination, Elliot stood up, almost too fast. He walked over to the door, opening it and stepping out, to the back of the house.

Luckily for him (with only getting that far with the plan), Reaper was still back there, and he seemed almost surprised to see Elliot come out.

Elliot bit his lower lip, trying to figure out how to say this in his head before he actually spoke it. "I-I-have a question."

"Just a question?" Reaper asked. He leaned against the wooden fence that divided the house from the road. "By now I would have figured you'd have more."

This was going well. "Well, I do have more, but, well, I sort of only guessed that you wouldn't answer them all? Starting with one just seemed like it would go easier?" Elliot said, his voice going higher at the end so it came out more as a question itself. A question about the questions. Fabulous.

Reaper tilted his head. "What is the question?"

The question. Right. "Who-who are you?" Elliot internally cringed. Of course.

"Who am I? I..." Reaper paused. "I am someone to help you. Someone that will protect you for reasons that I cannot yet tell you. Someone who will give the way." He sighed. "And I know that these answers are frustrating. But we are not safe here to give a further one. So bear with me."

He was right. They were frustrating. But at the same time they made sense. If he didn't feel safe to give away that here, well, Elliot knew what he meant.

It just was annoying when you weren't in that safe place yet and had to make do with those sort of answers.

"Is that all?" Reaper asked, flipping one end of his scarf over his shoulder.

No. "Yes," he said. Turning from Reaper, he decided to go down the streets, though not too far, as getting lost wouldn't turn ideal now.

[silverpaintedstars]

*live XD

Hm, maybe Caelum, she seems all cool, but Silva can cook, but I feel we would argue a lot. Maybe just Elliot cause he’s a sweet boi

Hey hey hey it’s another thing of me asking random stupid questions! if one of your OCs got to love with you who would it be??

If one of my OCs got to live with me? Hmm, good question, I like it!!! I would say either Jewelea, because she's great and really nice and probably very good at keeping her room clean, or Samuel solely because it would be hilarious to just. Observe him living. I don't know why, I just know it would be

How about you?

[silverpaintedstars]

The Son of Shadows, Chapter 9! In which there is crying. But a child! And we freaking reached 20000 words with this!! @accidental-spice@kanerallels@fairytale-lights@bookdragon1811

(tbh I’m on mobile rn and I do not feel like linking all the other parts rn so if you need them just search the chapter title on my blog got it frens)

Chapter Nine: Promises Building a Wall

When Elliot returned to Silva's house from cautiously wandering around and sitting on benches and the like, it was later than he'd thought. He might've stayed out longer but the sky was looking heavy again, and he wasn't in the mood to be caught in the rain.  Reaper was inside the house at the table when Elliot walked in, a satchel on the table with a few items inside. Packing, then. Which when you were planning to go on a trip, packing was one thing you had to do. Though it made it seem all the more real.

And honestly, Reaper looked almost relieved to see Elliot walk in, as if he had almost expected something to happen. But Elliot wasn't ready to admit to himself how good that felt to him--to see concern written across someone's eyes. Concern about him.

"Silva went back down to Underhold earlier," Reaper explained. "To get her brother, I think she said."

Right. This brother of hers. Elliot wasn't very eager to meet him, to be honest. At least, not yet. "So-so we're leaving tomorrow?" Elliot asked Reaper, who looked up from where he had been staring off into space at the tabletop.

"I wish it were today," Reaper replied. "But Silva didn't seem like she would be quite...ready for that idea. So tomorrow." He placed a hand on the bag and drew it closed. "But if we are found then we will leave as soon as we can."

Silva wasn't the only one who wouldn't want to leave today. Elliot had really only had maybe a day to get used to everything. He didn't want to just leave now, uprooted from yet another part of life that he'd just scraped the surface of. True, there was a reason for having to leave, obviously with what Reaper had mentioned about Askance so far, Elliot didn't want to stay here and let her find them here. But couldn't they just try and stay longer?

There was a part of him that was eager to see everything on the way to Arpad. He didn't have many opportunities to leave Orlem and on the few occasions he did, Elliot couldn't quite...enjoy those excursions. So this would be a chance to really see the land he'd lived in all his life and never gotten to enjoy before.

But did it have to involve leaving so soon?

The door opened behind Elliot, knocking him from his spiral of thoughts. He turned, and out of habit (by now at least) reached up and tugged his hood further over his face. Silva stomped in, reaching down and taking off her muddy boots and setting them by the door, holding open the door for...well, her brother, Elliot figured. He looked to be around six, with a mop of fluffy brown hair poking out from under a worn navy blue schoolboy hat. His wide green eyes looked over Reaper and Elliot, but for some strange reason he didn't seem too surprised to see two strangers sitting at his kitchen. "Who're they?" he asked Silva in his higher voice, tugging at her hand.

She looked up, the edges of her hat dripping a few drops of rain from where her hat had caught the rain. "I don't even know," she sighed, setting a small drawstring bag down on the counter.

Reaper tapped his fingers on the tabletop. "My name is Reaper, what is yours?"

"Scaphis," he said pleasantly. He was nothing like his older sister, which was something that Elliot found a bit amusing.  A nice change of pace, also.

"You haven't...told him yet, have you?" Reaper asked Silva, who had opened one of the creaky cabinets and was rummaging around inside.

She turned and glared at him. "Seriously?"

Scaphis placed his chin on the countertop, looking up at Silva. "Tell me?"

Silva closed the cabinet and leaned against the counter, folding her arms and glanced down at him. "I'll tell you later."

Reaper cleared his throat. "I don't mean to rush anything but...you may not want to put it off."

Silva sighed, lowering her arms and placing her elbows on the counter. Behind her, out of the dirty kitchen window, the rain beat down steady now. "I'm just not ready to make that seem real yet? Get it?"

"Make what seem real?" Scaphis asked, trying to scramble onto the counter, but was a lick too short to reach it on his own. Silva reached over and picked him up, setting him up on the countertop.

"Nothing," she said, reaching a hand up to scratch her jaw, just over that strange green mark on her face. Scaphis didn't seem to share that with his sister, though. They almost seemed opposites, Silva and Scaphis, but at the same time, they also appeared to cancel each other out in a good way. Silva seemed gentler around Scaphis, which was something that in the...few hours or so Elliot had known her, something that he hadn't seen on her yet. It was good on her.

"I do understand you though," Reaper said softly. "But it might be better to get it over with."

"I know," Silva said, and it sounded like she was fighting with herself. Finally she sighed again, turning to where Scaphis sat on the counter, swinging his legs. "I-I'm leaving."

Scaphis furrowed his brow, slowing his kicking. "What?"

"I'm leaving," Silva repeated. "Tomorrow." She closed her eyes, waiting as Scaphis mouthed the words back over to himself, then turned large, sad eyes up at her, confused.

"Leaving where? Why?" he asked her, blinking hair out of his green eyes.

She let out a breathe of air again, opening her eyes. "With them." She tilted her head up, letting her hat frame her head. "I'll talk to mom, and Renet and she'll take care of you when mom can't. I have my market money and..." Silva trailed off, shutting her eyes again, tighter. "You'll be fine." She opened them, not quite glaring so at Reaper, but as if so say, I told you this would be hard.

"But, but I don't want you to leave!" Scaphis said, his voice so sincere and desperate it was heartbreaking. Reaper glanced at Silva, his eyes almost looking worried. He clearly must have known that this would have happened, but he still seemed low-key alarmed. "Why do you have to?"

"Because I do," Silva said, wrapping her arms around herself, looking down at him. "You'll be fine," she repeated to him, though it sounded more like she was saying it to herself.

Scaphis hugged his arms to himself. "I don't want you to leave," he said again, but it was softer this time. Sadder. Like he was fully getting it this time.

Elliot felt like he shouldn't be there, like it was a moment he had no right to stand there and witness. But he couldn't necessarily leave though, so he had to stay, but it still felt like he was invading on the moment.

Silva placed a hand on his knee. "Listen, I don't even know how long I'll be gone." She shot another look at Reaper, then placed her eyes back on her brother. "And you'll have to take care of yourself. Renet and Mom can't always be there. But you'll be fine. I know you will." Again it sounded like she was reassuring herself rather than Scaphis.

Elliot couldn't help but wonder about their father. And what was wrong with their mother? Was she ill or something like that? Maybe her father traveled a lot. Maybe he worked in Underhold on very inconvenient hours.

Maybe he was dead.

Shaking that very heavy thought from his head, Elliot let his grip free from where he had been gripping the back of a chair unconsciously, pulling it out and quietly sitting down across from Reaper, who hadn't said another word and was letting Silva and Scaphis go through it themselves. Which might not have been the best of decisions, seeing the tears beginning to brim at the corners of Scaphis' eyes, but what would Reaper have done stepping in? It really wouldn't have amounted to much of anything.

Scaphis placed his hand over Silva's on his knee, looking up at her. "Don't go," he whispered. "Don't leave me." A single tear leaked out and began to trail its way down.

Silva reached over and wiped it. "I leave tomorrow," she reminded him in a gentle voice. "You still have until then."

"But that's not long enough," Scaphis said, and another tear leaked from the other eye. He began to full on cry now, burying himself in his sister.

She swallowed hard, wrapping him in a hug from where he sat on the countertop. "I'll be back," she whispered into the top of his head. "It won't be forever."

"Yes it will," Scaphis said, his voice muffled by her. A sob shook him. "It'll be forever and--and you'll never come back. I-it'll be like-be like Dad again."

Elliot couldn't see Silva's face, but he had the inkling that she had let a tear or so loose by the quiver in her voice. "It won't be forever," she said, her voice almost gravelly. "I will be back." There was a firmness in her words this time, like she was saying them to be solid enough to build a wall around them to keep all their fears out. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise."

Scaphis pried himself from his sister, turning his wet face up to look up at her. "You promise?"

Silva looked down at him. "I promise. I'll be back. I won't leave you. Ever."

[silverpaintedstars]

The Son of Shadows, Chapter Six!

Oh, yes, I’ve waited for this. @bookdragon1811 @accidental-spice @kanerallels and anyone else who want to be tagged lemme know!

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five |

Chapter Six--Torrents

An assasin.

It took Elliot a second to really get what that meant. An assasin had come here...for him first.

Which meant she had been here to kill him.

The world spun and he reached for the nearest surface to try and right it, which happened to be a corner of the wall. He gripped it, placing his other hand on his throat and feeling the pulse there. He gulped in a few breaths, waiting until the world righted itself.

Why would someone want to kill him? What had he done that was so terrible that someone had to come to snuff him out? As far as he knew he hadn't done anything. In his eyes, at least. In other eyes--eyes who he didn't want to name--possibly, but why? He'd never even met a Grelph before, much less Askance.

"Why?" Elliot finally got out, still gripping the wall. Reaper was facing the window again, little tendrils of light surrounding him and illuminating his light hair.

"I'm not sure," Reaper said. "Which I realize isn't quite the answer you are wanting." His fingers were curled around the edge of the windowsill, almost choking it.

He was right. It wasn't the answer Elliot wanted--but he had to make do with what he had, then. But he didn't have much at all.

Gently he eased his hands off the wall, the charred texture of it staying on his palms, which were white from gripping it so hard. Wiping them on his pants, he let out a shaky breath. Reaper turned from the window, and while his mask blocked his eyes, Elliot could feel the sympathy they wore. "I know you're terribly confused," Reaper said after a moment of looking at him almost studiously.

Understatement.

"But it is far too early in the game to tell you everything," Reaper continued. Game? "Trust me in knowing that you will eventually find out everything in your own time." He took a few steps closer to Elliot, and a serious mood hung in the air. "Yet I need your word that you will trust me. I give you mine. For...whatever comes ahead, you will need my guidance." He looked away. "As I don't know the fate of anything if we do not."

Confused, Elliot looked at a spot on the wall, sorting through what Reaper had said. Trust him. Well, at this point he supposed he could trust him, with where they were. But what did he mean by guidance? And whatever comes ahead?

Reaper tilted his head, looking down a point on the floor. "I give you my word I will do everything in my power--ethereal or physical--to protect you from any dangers and threats to take you and your spirit." He kept his head bowed and Elliot got the feeling that whatever he was giving his word to was worth it.

Reaper was giving his word to him.

And he didn't exactly have a reason why yet either.

Elliot swallowed. "I-I give you my word that-that I will...place my trust in you...for whatever it's--worth." Stumbling through the pledge he was giving without really knowing why, he in turn tilted his head down.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and Elliot looked up to see Reaper there, his mouth a thin pressed line as he looked at him. "Then we are already enough of the way there," he said.

Why couldn't he just speak straight for once?

There was a loud cough from just inside the door, where the dim of outside and the shadow of inside melted together.

Both Reaper and Elliot jumped, and Reaper settled his hand on his sword handle, taking authoritive steps towards the door, where a silhouette stood.

Elliot crept forward a few steps, blinking a few times, then his eyes adjusted. It was that girl with the bread booth--he scrambled for the name--Silva. Standing in the rubbish, she had her arms crossed and her hat tilted over her face.

"If you wanted to have a serious conversation, maybe wait until no one else is around?" She hissed, a purely annoyed look on her face. She didn't seem fazed at all with Reaper only a few feet ahead, hand on his sword and that imposing black mask over his face. In fact, she almost seemed bored and was as if she was simply delivering a message.

"What did you hear?" Reaper asked her, in a stern, but low, tone of voice. Elliot stayed behind them, by the wall. Silva hadn't seemed to notice him yet and he didn't really want her to.

She leaned against the wall. "All of it."

Reaper's hand tightened around his sword. Casting a glance back over to Elliot, who still stood in the shadows, he seemed to send him a silent message--this wasn't ideal.

Silva adjusted her hat, her casual blue dress catching dust from the room around her. Behind her, out of the doorway, the sounds of the market filtered through, though no one payed attention to the old, abandoned house. "It was all terribly confusing," she continued. "Like, seriously, if you wanted to talk about stuff like that maybe you should make it more understandable?"

Reaper folded his arms. "What you heard was something that you never should have. By knowing that, you may as well be placed in danger."

She blinked. "Okay."

His mouth pressed into a thin line. "You do not understand."

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I understand, I just don’t think you do. Don’t get mad at me for listening—you should’ve been somewhere more private then.”

"If you didn't yet notice we are in an underground city, with limited space. When you are trying just to find one space alone, this works well enough," Reaper said, his patience clearly wearing thin.

"Yeah, I think I noticed," Silva retorted.

"Then why are you wearing a hat?"

She reached a hand up and adjusted it, sniffing at him. "Don't question my motives. Why are you basically wearing sunglasses then?"

He quirked a half smile, quoting her: "Don't question my motives."

A swift of dust floated into Elliot's lungs, stirred up by something, and he coughed, turning both their heads towards him. Silva frowned, clearly remembering him, but not being able to place it. "Waiiiiit, aren't you--you're the one who wrecked my table!"

"You--wrecked a table?" Reaper asked him, sounding a bit amused.

"Well--it was accidental, I didn't, you know, try to knock it over and all that," he muttered, playing with his hands. "It just...happened."

Silva let out a huff of air. "Well, can I have an explanation or whatever for what I heard?"

Reaper turned back toward her. "An explanation?"

"Yeah. If you didn't realize it, you sounded very confusing. A pledge? Safety?" She blew a chunk of hair from out of her face. "The only thing be afraid of down here is Stagra's prices."

"Forgive me for repeating myself, but you would not understand."

"Try me."

"You are already in enough danger just by knowing without understanding." Reaper ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He turned to Elliot, who still stood in the shadows, not really wanting to involve himself in this conversation, but who was equally confused, so Silva had some right.

"And what are you doing with him?" Silva asked, pointing at Elliot. She paused. "Danger?"

"Yes, danger." Reaper walked back over to the window, peering out. "Danger," he repeated, softer this time.

Danger. Askance? But why would Silva also be in danger, just from overhearing them? Nothing made sense anymore. It didn't really seem like it would though. A luxury left behind. Since waking up outside Holden, he had come to figure that much.

The sounds of the market outside filled the silence inside the room, Silva tapping her foot impatiently.  

"Okay, fine. If you're not going to tell me then--" she started, but wasn't able to finish. Reaper spun from the window, starting to the door then pausing.

"We're leaving. Now." he said, stepping outside. Not knowing if he'd spotted something or just had to get out, but not really wanting to know, Elliot followed him out, ducking past Silva, who threw an arm up.

"So you refuse to tell me, then you just ditch me?" she said, frustrated.

"You have to come too," Reaper called back in from outside. "You still prove a liability."

She stared at them a moment, the dim from inside casting a long shadow on her face. "Now I'm a liability?"

"Yes, and come on," Reaper said after a long breath of patience. It was louder out here, on the side of the market behind a cloth booth. No one payed them attention as they walked out of the charred house and Reaper led them down the street, towards the train to the surface. Elliot struggled to keep up with his quick pace, Silva walking with folded arms next to him. She didn't seem quite happy to be going along here, though from the few interactions he'd had the joy of sharing with her, she didn't seem happy with most situations.

He kept as close to Reaper as he could, not wanting to lose him. Every now and then Reaper would cast a glance behind them, almost as if he was looking for something in the streets behind. Askance, probably.  

How exactly would he explain this to Silva? Well, if he was planning to. Look, we're being trailed by an assassin? His brain tripped over the last word. Assassin. Someone trained to kill had followed him here. And if he'd been right about that...feeling thing, she'd followed them from Cade's Caravansary.

Feelings. Whatever that was. Elliot didn't really want to call it a power, even if it felt like that. It was strange. Almost like he was pulling apart the very seams and souls of people and peering into them. He didn't like that way of putting it, though. It was like he was looking into their private strongholds, places they kept shut up and tied away for a reason. And he could just...invade into there.

Reaper stopped and he almost ran into him, thoughts distracted. They'd reached the train, and by a larger miracle, Silva was still there, if not annoyed by it. "We're going up to the surface," Reaper said, turning around and looking at Silva. "You have a home there?"

"We have a house there, I'm not sure how homey it is," Silva said. "Why?"

"We'll need a place to be in private," Reaper said, following the line to the where there was a small line of two ahead of them. It must have been the hour for school and work now, so there wasn't much of a line.  The train must've been at the surface now though, as it wasn't docked on the wooden rail.

"My mother will be there," Silva told him, stepping in front of Elliot without much of a side glance. "Though I'm not sure if her mind will be."

Elliot frowned. What did she mean by that? Was her mother insane or something?

Maybe that's where Silva got it from.

"Then we'll reach that when we get there," Reaper said, reaching the booth. He started to dig into a pocket for tags to pay for passage, but stopped, turning his head to look at Elliot.

Oh, right. He had the bag with tags now. Taking it from the pocket where he had stored it, Elliot drew the top open and took out a rough wooden tag, handing it to Reaper over Silva's shoulder. He paid for three tickets and they walked over by the tracks, waiting for the train.

Elliot wanted to ask Reaper if Askance would follow them, but remembered Silva wouldn't know, so he kept his mouth shut. Though he looked towards the main part of Underhold, the buildings and market, looking for any sign of a furious Grelph. Nothing, which he supposed was a relief.

There was a warning bell from above and the track shaked a little, bearing the weight of the train coming down it, slowly. Peering up at the front of it, he stepped back a bit, waiting for it.

"Though you'll let me come back down, right," Silva asked Reaper, placing a hand to steady her hat. "I still have bread to sell."

Reaper didn't answer, focused on the train.

She frowned as the train rolled onto the track in front of her, stopping with a lurch. The doors opened and a few people got off, though not that many. Waiting until everyone had disbanded, Reaper climbed up onto it, the dimness shadowing his face under the mask. He slid into a bench right by the door, but Elliot followed Silva back further in, waiting until she'd taken a seat then slipped into one behind her.

He wanted to try something. Just to see what happened. Closing his eyes, he felt the train jolt then start moving slowly up, though this time he stiffened, trying to not let it bother him this time around. Feeling through his head, trying to find that place he'd been last time, he hit it as the train bumped, shaking the car.  

Then he saw the car again, but his eyes remained closed. He could feel the pull of gravity on each board in the train, see the track bending underneath as they climbed up. He felt Reaper, Silva, the operator, and the others in the car. But he didn't open his head to each of their...threads just yet. He stayed right there, exploring every inch of the train first.

Then slowly, he crept his vision to Reaper's cluster of...soul at the front. He stuck one foot in, testing it out.

Then he was pulled in.

A mass of thoughts and feelings clouded his head, dreams, hopes, wishes, regrets, words, feelings, fear, anger, and aggression, so much aggression...

Elliot gasped, sucking in air, and opened his eyes. His hands gripped the bench so hard his knuckles had turned white. What had just happened? He hadn't even meant to go into Reaper's head in the first place. He had just wanted to see the car. But something had drawn him there and he wasn't able to resist it. And he had drowned in it.

[silverpaintedstars]

The Son of Shadows--Chapter Ten!! (FINALLY, I know). I may go back and edit this later, but for now, it’s good enough. @accidental-spice @kanerallels @bookdragon1811 @fairytale-lights 

(also i think im done with linking all the other chapters lol its more work and if you want them just search the tag pfft)

Chapter Ten: Off!

The next morning was quite thankfully done with the rain and sun bartered its way through the dirty windows. Elliot woke before the rest in the house–at least, Silva and Scaphis’ door was still closed so he just assumed that they still were sleeping. 

Elliot and Reaper had been given straw mattresses to sleep on, and each a thin blanket. Reaper had pushed his makeshift bed towards the back wall, with the yet to be used front door. Elliot had slept just by the round table, tossing and turning in the dark. The dark already wasn’t his friend, and it grew even more evil in a strange new place like here. He’d found himself wishing for a candle, but everyone was sleeping by that point and he didn’t know where to find one. 

He’d finally fallen asleep at somepoint, exhaustion taking over his mind. Though it hadn’t been restful sleep–he’d woken up and many points, from dreams and nightmares. 

But the day always ended up coming, and come it had.  

Reaper stirred, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. Elliot hadn’t noticed if Reaper had gone to sleep with that eye mask–and when he thought to look now, Reaper was already adjusting the edges. Elliot sighed. Why did he wear it? For the air of mystery? Although Elliot himself had taken the care of wearing his own hood over his ears in case Silva walked out any time. 

Reaper’s gaze found Elliot watching him. “We leave for Arpad today,” he said. As if Elliot needed the reminder. The thought had been swimming in his head all night. 

The door to Silva and Scaphis’ room creaked open, the old hinges complaining. Silva slipped out, wearing a hat, though a different one than yesterday’s. This one wasn’t quite as floppy or wide, with a thinner brim and a flatter top. She frowned when she saw both Elliot and Reaper awake, clearly having been hoping for some moment of silence.

Personally Elliot wouldn’t have minded another moment to himself either, but the day wasn’t going to pause for one single selfish wish. 

“When are we leaving?” Silva asked Reaper, who had gotten up and folded the blanket over his arm, making Elliot feel like a terrible guest. 

Reaper set the blanket on the table as Elliot scrambled up. “As soon as we can.”

“Now?” Silva raised an eyebrow, closing the bedroom door and leaning against the wall. She was wearing a plain blue dress, falling past her knees. A pair of muddy brown boots were on her feet. 

Reaper paused. “You wouldn’t need more time?”

Silva crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “Well, apparently I’m a liability”--she did air quotation marks–”and if the sooner we get out here means the sooner we return then why not. He’s sleeping and I managed to talk to Mom last night.” She didn’t say anything more, him clearly meaning Scaphis. 

Reaper turned towards her. “Well, by all means, if you’re ready then we’ll leave soon.” 

“Fine.” Silva said it nonchalantly, but Elliot heard something behind the word that she didn’t put out. She was trying to make it seem like she was fine, nothing was bothering her. But Elliot heard her hesitation and slight pain behind the word. 

Reaper studied her. “You’re sure that you’re alright with leaving now?”

Silva let out a huff of air, rolling her eyes. “So now you’re going to be concerned?”

Elliot couldn’t see Reaper’s eyebrows, but he got the impression they were raised. “I am aware that you have only known me for–”

“A day,” Silva interrupted. “I’ve known you for a day. Which isn’t much time to really build trust, you realize?” 

“Oh, I realize,” Reaper replied. “And regardless of whatever opinion you’ve built of me in that timespan, I want you to know that there is a reason for all this–a very serious reason, one that I will tell both of you in time.” He turned and looked at Elliot. “And while you do not absolutely have to come along, I will just say it like this: you may be killed if you do not come.” 

Silva blinked. 

“So that is why you are coming. And I merely asked that question to be sure if you felt alright,” Reaper continued. 

It was silent for a moment, no one saying anything, Reaper continuing to calmly pack the bag he had been working on with food he had scavenged from somewhere in the house. 

“This’ll be the vacation I was wanting,” Silva muttered from the far wall. 

Elliot glanced at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking. A hard task, he knew, but he really didn’t have anything else to do at the moment. Her face was schooled into a bemused and bored expression that really didn’t give away any emotion. Which, from the brief time that Elliot had known her, this was the appearance that she wore most times. Excluding, of course, last night when Elliot had felt like a stranger watching Silva say goodbye to Scaphis. 

But then, that little voice in the back of his head started to speak, reminding him that now, if he just closed his eyes and focused, he could feel what she was feeling. Maybe if he even listened harder, he could hear her thoughts. 

And for a moment, yes, it was tempting. Elliot listened to that thought, weighing it in his mind and wondering if that notion was correct at all. Then it was as if he came to his senses. That was trespassing. He couldn’t possibly be allowed to know what Silva kept in her mind. And whatever part of him was thinking of that, he couldn’t possibly begin to listen to it. It was wrong. Those thoughts weren’t his–they were a part of this new…power. 

That was all it was. A power. One that Elliot had no idea of how he’d gotten it, but one that he had. And one that he would have to learn how to live with. 

“Elliot?” Reaper said, knocking him from his train of thought. 

Elliot snapped his head up at him, blinking a few times. “Um, yes?”

Reaper had a slight bemused smile playing on his lips. “I was asking whether you were about ready to leave.” He swept a hand towards the table where three medium sized drawstring bags sat, almost bursting with their contents, which Elliot assumed was food and supplies for…he didn’t know. He hadn’t been on many adventures. “Everything is ready and it should be early enough to where getting out shouldn’t be quite as much as getting in.”

Elliot let out a nervous breath at the mention of the excursion that getting into Holden was. The whole ordeal with the Ogrens at the gate had been something that Elliot wasn’t exactly eager to repeat. But, getting out should be easier than getting in. 

Should.

That word didn’t offer much refuge, instead reminding Elliot just how dangerous it was being here. Being an Elf and being here, that is. It really wasn’t going to be a vacation of any sorts–and Elliot didn’t even know where Reaper was planning on taking them.

Hopefully somewhere safe.

“Stones and skies, how easy do you drift off?” Silva remarked, again drawing Elliot from his thoughts. 

His face grew red, remembering he still had a question to answer. “Um, yeah, it’s fine to leave now.” He didn’t exactly have a reason to wait, anyhow. 

Reaper picked up one bag, slinging the others around his wrist. “Then off we will be,” he said grandly. 

Silva raised an eyebrow, not moving from her spot at the wall. “First–I have a question.” 

“Of course you do,” Reaper replied. “It is?”

“Where are we going?” 

“Arpad, eventually, but in the direction of Ferieine first,” Reaper answered her. “I have something to take care of at Ferieinetown first.”

Ferieinetown. Laketown was what it translated to in the common language, which is what it literally was. Ferieine was built on Moryor Lake, which Elliot hadn’t personally visited before, just studied in books. 

He didn’t know what business Reaper would have there–it just seemed like a fishing town for the most part. 

Silva cleared her throat. “A fishing town?”

Reaper twriled a hand in the air. “Of sorts.”

Silva sighed. “Let’s just go already and get this all over with.”

“Gladly,” Elliot muttered, walking over to the table and glanced between Silva and Reaper, who seemed to be in some sort of staring contest. Reaper would win. No one could see his eyes. 

Reaper cleared his throat another moment. “Well, then, we should be going then. We should reach Ferieine by late evening tomorrow.” 

So a day and a half journey then. Just to Ferieinetown. And from there Arpad and…well, Elliot didn’t know what else. 

Silva shrugged off the wall and crossed the small room, splaying her hands on the table and looking at Elliot, which made him feel a tad attacked. One seemed to feel that way around Silva, he had come to know. “I don’t know why I’m going with a strange, whiteheaded man and this scrawny…boy, though I’ve been told it’s a better alternative to death? Well, I don’t know, death is also seeming pretty tempting at this point too.” She took one hand up, waving it around as she talked. “But I do have actual responsibilities to live on for…so I guess you’re stuck with me.”

“One correction to that statement,” Reaper said, toying with the string on one bag. He walked over to the back door, placing a hand on the  knob and looking back at her. “We’re stuck with you.” 

The streets were empty that early in the morning as they left the house, only a few people walking down the opposite direction as the three walked, towards Underhold. Which made more sense, as Underhold was where most people held jobs and the like. Elliot, Reaper and Silva were barely cast any glance as they walked at a brisk pace, Reaper unofficially leading this glum parade of a trio. 

The streets were puddled with remnants from last night’s rain, and the fresh smell of wet on brick was in the air as they splashed their way to exit from Holden. Elliot did his best to avoid the puddles, though Reaper barely cast them a second thought. Silva only seemed to step in them when Elliot was conveniently in range to be splashed. There were a few guards posted every few corners, though if Elliot and the others kept their heads down and acted like they had a business to attend to, then the guards didn’t pay them much attention. 

By the time they reached the gates at the front of the city, Elliot’s boots were once again soaked and Silva already seemed like she was dreading this whole adventure–though she usually looked like that, so Elliot couldn’t be sure. 

There were only four guards stationed there–three Ogrens and one man. They each were weaponed down to their boots, and didn’t look particularly nice. 

“Alright, we’re going to act like we have crops or something to attend to out of the gates,” Reaper said in a low tone as they walked, though their pace was slowed.

Silva frowned. “Holden’s not much of a farming town.”

“It is now,” Reaper replied, heading towards the left gate. 

Elliot hoped that his earlier assumption that getting out would be easier than going in would be right. Because really, they didn’t need another episode like last time. Elliot still wasn’t sure how Reaper had found him in Underhold, or what had happened after he’d fled from the gates. Another question to be answered later, he supposed. 

The man stepped forward, just as Reaper had reached the frame of the open gate, stopping them. “Where are you going?” he demanded. 

“We have crops to tend to,” Reaper said smoothly. “They were left out late last night and you know–with the cold approaching the nights are getting colder. The frost may have gotten to them.” He delivered the lie with ease, making Elliot feel like it was real, even though he knew Reaper wasn’t a farmer. 

The guard narrowed his eyes. “You seem awfully prepared for checking on plants. And what’s with that mask?”

Elliot gulped, sure that they would be caught, but Reaper responded again with a smooth confidence. “We’ll be out there all day–and this is for the sun. I have sensitive eyes.”

The guard furrowed his brow, turning his head up towards the sun, squinting. “It’s still clouded,” he began to protest, turning to look back at them.

They ran through the gate, Reaper leading them to the right, to where in the distance over a hill was a grove of trees. Behind them the guard started yelling–”After them!”--but they were covering distance fast, despite Elliot not being a strong runner. 

“Tell me this whole time we won’t be running from the law,” Silva huffed as she kept pace just behind Reaper. 

“Hopefully not all,” he called back as they crested the top of the hill and began to descend into the trees. 

Elliot hadn’t cast any glances back to see if they’d been followed–a larger part of him had been too scared–but they certainly hadn’t been caught as their pace slowed as the trees grew around them. 

They finally stopped to a standstill as the trees got even thicker and the empty grass got hard to see through the trunks. For a moment they all stood there, panting to recover breath. 

“Well,” Reaper said after a few hard breaths, dropping down and sitting on the ground. “I suppose you both have questions?” 

Elliot blinked. “You’re–you’re going to answer them?” 

Reaper took out one bag and loosened the string. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

He had, but a part of Elliot hadn’t fully believed him. “Oh.” He–ungracefully–sat down across from Reaper, Silva following suit. 

“First, how did we even get out of there alive?” Silva asked him. 

“A bit of luck, we’ll call it,” Reaper answered, taking a hunk of bread out from the bag. “Either of you want anything?” He tossed an apple to Elliot. 

Silva frowned, crossing her arms. 

Elliot took a breath after taking a bite, preparing. “What-what is going on?” 

Reaper took a breathy laugh. “A very plausible question. Let’s see.”

“Start with why you wear that mask,” Silva interrupted, unimpressed. 

Reaper twisted a small half smile. “Well, if you insist.” He reached up with both hands and took the black mask by the edges, slowly lowering it, placing it on the ground beside him. 

[silver-attempts-art]

I love doing small one color sketches like this, and Silva’s turned out the best

[silverpaintedstars]

How the Son of Shadows Was Cast Out--Chapter 3! This one was fun, which I think I've said for all but the prologue lol. Y'all get to meet Silva unofficially! And it's a joy writing fromElliot's POV cause he's kinda dumb in this area XD. @bookdragon1811 and if anyone else wants to be tagged let me know!

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two |

Chapter Three: Desolate in Holden

As Reaper and Elliot drew closer to Holden, Elliot began to notice a few things. For one, there was a guarded wall around the city, where guards were checking everyone and everything. That might prove to be a problem. Two, there was a crowd of people filing out, but few in. He figured they probably had crops and fields out of the town.

“By the by, what is your name?” Reaper asked, and it hit Elliot that he hadn’t mentioned it yet.

“Um, E-Elliot,” he stammered, shrinking back involuntarily. It wasn’t his name that made him feel self-conscious, only the fact that someone in the world knew another sliver about him. A sliver of information, a piece of something personal that just maybe could be used against him. No, he felt he could trust Reaper.

He hoped.

“Well, Elliot, you spotted the guarders, correct?” Reaper asked as they were about a few hundred yards away. Elliot nodded. “Now, they will check our, ah, specifications, which means they may not allow you access the inside of those gates.”

“But-but don’t Elves, um, rule them?” Elliot asked in confusion, not sure why they wouldn’t let their own superior into the town.

“In all technicality, yes,” Reaper answered, throwing his own hood up in addition to his black mask over his eyes. “But they refuse to acknowledge it when they can, since Elves aren't the kindest to them. Especially the Ogens.”

Elliot swallowed at the mention of them. Ogrens were a rough species, tall, strong, and huge. They weren’t usually one for sympathy, which made their situation sink further and further down the pit of failure.

Really, all they had to do was get into the town, how hard was this going to shape up into?

Reaper and Elliot joined the line of maybe a handful waiting access into Holden, Elliot rubbing his hands like crazy with anxiety. The list of situations that could happen kept running through his head, each worst than the last. From him being recognized, to the Ogren guards finding out he was an Elf, to somehow the king waiting there for him.

To distract himself from all these thoughts he decided to survey his surroundings, always a good idea. The grass was thin and dying here, having been trampled on and walked over for who knows how long. The wall surrounding the town wasn’t very tall, just over Elliot’s head. Over the top of the uneven stones he could see the roofs of houses and buildings, hear the bustle of the road, people just waking up to their days. Did Reaper have a backup plan? Probably. Elliot didn’t really doubt that much. He just didn’t know what it would be. Attacking the guards? He had to have that sword for a reason. Jumping over the wall?

Before he knew it, Reaper was nudging him in the shoulder, the Ogrens before them, scowling at Elliot. He shrank back, pulling his hood further over his face. He felt scared, though felt like an understatement. Reaper, however, gave away nothing of emotion to the guard who towered over him.

“Well, strangers,” the guard sneered, “I’m going to need to see under your hoods.”

“That sounds a bit attacking,” Reaper said defensively. “We have no right to show you anything.”

“Traitors aren’t allowed in,” the Ogren spat.

“We’ve done nothing wrong," Reaper said, but for some reason his voice didn’t sound so assured of that fact.

“If you had nothing to hide then you show me,” the Ogren guard sneered, grabbing Reaper’s arm.

“I’m defending my personal right,” Reaper shot at him, wrangling his arm, but the Ogren was too strong.

The Ogren didn’t reply this time, instead using his other hand to roughly flick Reaper’s hood back, not caring if he hit Reaper in the process. When he didn’t see Elvish ears he went to snatch his mask.

Elliot watched all this in terror. He didn’t know if Reaper was hiding anything. But he seemed helpless there in the guard’s grip. Eliot didn’t move, as the guard seemed to have at least momentarily forgotten about him.

“Stop it!” Reaper demanded, turning his head away and pulling on his arm. When the guard only laughed, he started to reach for his sword. The guard saw it, however, and yelled something in his native tongue to two of the other guards, who came running with their own weapons, leaving the gate open.

The gate open.

Suddenly Elliot saw that the plan B was really the only plan all along. Reaper planned to distract the guards so Elliot could get in.

In the chaos Reaper had freed himself, brandishing his sword, his cloak disheleveld. The three guards surrounded him, each with their own. “Run, Elliot!” Reaper shouted at him.

Elliot stayed in place in terror, looking fervently around at the scene. “Go!” Reaper yelled, blocking a thrust by one guard.

Realizing that it was this or capture, or worse, Elliot took a few deep breaths, knowing he would never be comfortable, or assured of anything now, and that started here. He started running, shaky at first, but gaining strength as he went. As he passed the scuffle, one of the guards, the Ogren who had threatened Reaper in the first place, spotted him and swung at him with his curved blade.

Elliot yelped, ducking under the swipe, and narrowly missing it, although he felt it cut an edge of his cloak. He skidded through the gate, not slowing his pace for anything, going down the streets, not paying any attention to the town or anything around him. He didn’t know if the guards were running after him. He didn’t know how Reaper was faring. He didn’t even know where he was.

At all.

He stopped running, almost collapsing from the strain, panting heavily and finally looking around himself. He was standing on the walk of an empty street, a few broken buildings around him. At the end of the street he could see a busier one, with horses and people.

He was fine with accepting he was lost, as he’d never been there before, so how could he not? He was alive--Reaper, someone he’d literally met just the day before had risked his life so Elliot could get in free. And he didn’t even know where to find anything here, or where was safe to go.

He didn’t even know where to stay. He was an Elf in a world that would hate him. But he figured that answers wouldn’t just come to him without him doing anything, so he decided to start off towards the busier street he’d seen, making sure his hood covered what it needed to first.

Elliot wasn’t going to let himself panic. It would take all he got, but he only got this far from not panicking, so he figured it amounted to something. For now he would try to get a feel of this new setting, then go from there.

But stones, he was scared.

He blended into the crowded street, weaving in and out of the common folk. The only elves he saw were guards posted every few streets, keeping a hard eye on the people. There were Ogrens here and there too, but it seemed the most of them were guarding it from the outside.

He walked against the flow for about five minutes, before the buildings crowding the streets thinned out and some sort of strange hole in the ground was there.

It was a rather advanced hole though, with stone leading down into the ground. Some sort of track lined the ground, going down as well. A small bit of building stood by the hole, with a line of people by it, apparently buying something. He was confused, so he decided to look closer.

That’s when he realized he still clutched the breakfast sack, and it still had a few things of food instead. The relief washed over him like the rain from before. He had food. He wasn’t completely alone. And--he dug his hand further in--there were a few tags of money in there! Just three or four, but they were bronze, so they amounted better than wood. This situation was still terrible, just not as much.

He joined the line of people, moreso because he was curious, but if it amounted to anything good, perhaps he would use these few tags he had and see just what that hole was.

When the three in front of him were gone, moved past, Elliot reached the window at the building. The man inside peered down at Elliot, a pair of wire frames perched on his nose. “Well,” he said after a moment. “Tag?”

“Um,” Elliot said. He’d feel like a fool asking what this place was, and even more if he just left, so he dug out one tag and handed one to the man, who snatched it.

His penetrating gaze never left Elliot as he dug through a drawer and pulled out a wooden tag, the leftover, Elliot assumed. He handed it down, along with another slip of paper with some sort of marking on it. “Go along, you’re holding up the line,” he said, complete with hand shooing.

“Um--” Elliot started, but was pushed forward to where the others stood by the tracks that led into the hole. They seemed to be waiting for something, so Elliot joined them and waited as well.

He really didn’t know what he was doing, but he tried to appear like he did. Unfortunately, acting was never quite one of his strong suits, but the others looked too preoccupied to notice him, which was a larger relief. The man however--he hadn’t made Elliot feel reassured in the slightest. He still helped him though.

A loud rumbling came from the hole abruptly, and Elliot forgot about trying to act conspicuous. He jumped back, staring at the hole, where the noise grew louder as something was crawling up the hole.

A ramshackle cart on metal wheels, driven by a rope that led into the hole rumbled up and out, the doors opening and a stream of people stepping out, like it was perfectly normal for them to have just walked out of a cart that came from a dark hole in the ground.

The others around Elliot started to board the cart, leaving Elliot for a second. He was supposed to go on that thing? He barely trusted regular, horse-drawn carts! Not even to mention rope-drawn ones that came from holes. But, he didn’t want to act like he was completely new--not to mention he was--so he followed the others and nervously climbed aboard the car. Inside was dark, with only one window set in the roof. There weren’t any lanterns, which Elliot understood, seeing how it was a wooden cart, and could potentially catch fire. There were a few wooden benches set along the sides with a narrow aisle inbetween the seats. They were mostly full, and Elliot nervously walked towards the back of the car, finally spotting an empty seat by a girl.

He didn’t really feel safe sitting right next to a stranger, but she seemed occupied with other things. A floppy hat sat on top of her dark hair, a large, lumpy canvas bag clutched in her lap. A curious green mark grew up from the left of her jaw, stopping just below her flashing green eyes.

She stared at Elliot a second before turning back to her bag, clearly uninterested in this boy. He sank into the seat tensely, not letting himself relax. He didn’t know where this car was going and didn’t like the small space, but he’d ended up here so here he would be.

There was a sudden lurch and he let out an unexpected squeak, gripping the edge of the bench tightly. The girl gave him a strange look but didn’t say anything. The car began to move forward, to who knows where.

Well, the others probably knew where. Elliot didn’t, and he wasn’t going to go and ask someone.

He swallowed, trying to calm himself as the car rocked back and forth, and a low screeching noise could be heard in the background. He dearly hoped it wasn’t the car or anything breaking and--

--whoah! There was a sudden downward lurch that Elliot really didn’t like. He gripped the edge like his life depended on it--and at this point he felt that he did.

“First time?” the girl asked in a snide tone.

He snapped up at her. “Oh, um, d-yeah.”

A small, sarcastic smile tugged at her mouth. “I could tell.”

“Oh.” It was that obvious? A look around the car proved yes, everyone else was calmly sitting as the car lurched down.

She turned back to her sack. “It gets better.”

It better get better if he had to ride this back up from wherever they were going. Wait--if she knew it was his first time, did it really hurt to ask where they were going? Mm, maybe not. It would be useful information, he supposed. “So, uh, wh-where exactly are we headed?”

She gave a short laugh, then looked at him. “Wait, you’re not joking?”

He shifted. “No.”

“Okay, next time make sure you know where you’re headed before you leave,” she said. “We’re going to Underhold.”

Elliot blankly stared at her.

“Right, you don’t know that? Wow. Underhold is the working class area of Holden. Markets, schools, shops. The higher class ones, obviously, are up there.” She gestured up at the sky. “You’re an idiot if you don’t know this, you know?”

Elliot looked down. She really was to the point, huh? He didn’t say anything back and she seemed perfectly fine with that, turning her attention again away from him.

The car rocked again, and Elliot sucked in a breath, but not wanting to make a noise and disturb her again or make her think he was that much of a coward, even if he was. Instead he took deep breaths in, closing his eyes to calm his breathing. It helped, focusing on calming himself down--wait.

What--his eyes flew open in surprise, his brain trying to catch the feeling he’d just had. It was like he could see the car--which was ridiculous, his eyes were closed--but not just that. He could see every grain of wood, every person and their feelings. But it was so much--a sensory overload--that he couldn’t place one thought to one person if he tried.

Elliot had no idea what that was.

He closed his eyes again, doing what he’d done last time, just trying to calm himself. And there--there was that single rush, his eyes being opened without physically being opened. It was weird, he knew.

And if he focused, he could pin these thoughts and feelings slightly. He focused on the girl next to him--and what he felt was so much and so sudden and flooding his head and his thoughts--

He gasped, snapping his eyes back open. Great, she was staring at him again. He ignored her though, his hand flying to his heart to try and calm it. That--whatever it’d been--was intense. That was the easiest way to describe it. It was like he’d been looking right into her soul and her soul was a mess. A cacophony of thoughts and feelings and regrets. That had been the most vivid emotion he’d felt. Regret, anger, and hurt.

Another jolt of the car rocked him, the largest now, startling him. He was still on the car, right. He stumbled to his feet, getting the direction that he was supposed to get off like the others. The door he had come from was open and he joined the others, not really thinking about where he was headed or his surroundings, his thoughts still such a mess after all that.

But the sudden dim light caused him to look up, and his breath caught. They were underground, a large, hollowed cavern with hundreds of lights hanging from the roots at the roof. It was like a mirror of Holden, but underground. Streets wove in front of him, the tallest building over them all a clocktower. Behind him, the track they had come down inclined up a rickety support case. Up into the ground, through a hole that presumably led where they had come from.

Elliot stood, taking it all in as the others onboard filed around him, going off. Many looked like schoolchildren, which would make sense as it was early morning, though down here it was night. There were eerie shadows from the caged lights overhead, shadows where anything could hide, where anything could do as it wished.

Elliot wasn’t a fan of shadows.

He and shadows didn’t quite have a nice history.

But if you were expected to live through the day you had to come to night eventually.

And night was the breeding ground for these shadows and terrors.

[silverpaintedstars]

The Son of Shadows, Chapter Four! (Officially shortening the title from now on, heads up.) This one--ahhh. Fun stuff. A bit shorter too--but it just worked to end there, so yeah. Tagging @accidental-spice and anyone else let me know! (Also tumblr was being weird with my links, so tell me if they’re working fine)

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | 

Chapter Four: Conflict and Loaves of Bread (Both of Which Are Important)

Elliot wandered the streets of Underhold for a bit, thankful for the dim light. It may have cast an uneasy light on everything, but it did make it easier for him to hide. Blend in. The shadows were the tool to blend everyone and everything together into one completely normal lump. 

At least, he hoped. 

He stopped below the stretching clocktower in the very center, almost reaching the lights hanging above, the pointed roof reaching for them. The time was 7:46, still fairly early in the day but not too terribly. The streets were moreso empty at this time, school having begun and the workday as well.

So he got to enjoy the quiet, sitting down on a bench under the tower, but not letting himself rest completely. The streets and buildings were more rundown here, yes, but they gave more of a homey feeling, broken in, unlike the ground level of Holden. Brick and crumbling stone, with the roads and paths more winding, more easy to get lost through. There were still guards down here, yes, but not quite as many, only on every corner or so. Which let Elliot feel slightly safer.

But what had become of Reaper? Did the guards bring him to some prison? Or…

He didn’t let himself finish that thought. Reaper was alive. He’d find a way. He seemed like the sort to do that. He would be fine, Elliot firmly told himself. He would. Reaper and Elliot both.

His stomach rumbled and he glanced down, where he’d sat that poor, forlorn food bag in his lap, where he knew that there was still an apple or two. He dug one out, taking a bite and the juice ran down his chin. He wiped it, and heard something.

Rather, he saw something first then heard it. The sounds of a market. An overflowing wagon rolled past, filled with goods and the like. Elliot got up, drawing the bag closed and picking it up. Walking down the street, his feet slapping the bricks, he went down the way he saw the wagon. Turning the corner, he saw that there was indeed a market stuffed in there, with booths and people and animals.

He ducked back around the corner, biting his lip. Did he go out there? He wanted to, but didn’t know if it’d be safe. But...he would need food, and a market seems like a fairly sensible way to get some. He had a few tags, yes, but wasn’t sure how expensive things would be.

Well, there was only one way to find out, hm. 

Elliot swallowed, then stepped out into the open square, tugging his hood further over his head. No one seemed to pay him much attention in the dim light, thankfully, apparently too preoccupied with their own matters. He weaved through the cluster of people, looking at all the booths and stalls, trying to figure out what he wanted and the prices. 

He never knew budgeting was this complicated, but maybe trying to simultaneously avoid everyone helped.

Elliot tilted his head up, looking at the lights up ahead, trying to figure out how they had got up there in the first place. Walking without looking wasn’t such a good idea, because the next thing he knew he had walked right into a rickety table.

Surprised, he stopped, and instantly regretted it. The table was sloped, the breads that had been on it now piled on the brick path. 

“What?” a voice demanded, and Elliot saw that the girl he’d met on the car was standing behind the table with a furious look on her face. She stormed out from behind the car, her face a delicate mask of anger, channeled at Elliot.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, bending down to pick up the loaves, his face flaring red. 

She pushed him aside. “Don’t. You didn’t spend all week baking these, you didn’t spend all week planning out how much exactly to sell them for to be able to fend for your whole family, and you don’t have to live off of these few precious loaves.”

Elliot blinked, pausing, his hand resting on the top of one loaf. “Er.”

She let out a frustrated huff of air, then looked at him closely. “Wait--you’re that idiot from the train!”

He preferred a different title than idiot, but wasn’t going to make her madder. “Um, yeah, uh, you were, ah, on the train too.” Well, obviously, she knew that. To try and make things better he picked up another loaf, but the table was still slanted so he had nowhere to set it.

She snatched it from him, picking up the lopsided table at the same time and putting it right. “Here, I’ll get it.”

“No--I can, I knocked it over,” Elliot said, his face feeling terribly hot.

“Look, I don’t even know you,” she huffed. “You can just go.”

“No, I’ll uh, help,” he insisted. He stood up, digging in his bag with shaky hands and pulling out a wooden tag and held it out to her. “Here, take this.”

“You’re not buying anything.” She scooped up three other loaves--one of which was squashed on one side--and set them on the table.

“I can,” he offered. 

“Please, you’ve done enough,” she scoffed. “You can go.” She reached a hand up to straighten her hat, which she wore down underground, for some reason.

“No, I--just take it,” he said, biting on his lip and wanting to rub his hands.

She rolled her eyes, snatching it from his sweaty palms. She turned back, grabbing the misshapen loaf and handing it to him ceremoniously. 

“Oh, um, thanks,” Elliot stammered, taking it. “I--I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bump it it just, was there and uh--”

She held a hand up, silencing him. “Just shut up. This didn’t happen, alright? You can go.”

“Um, okay.” He held the loaf, his heart pounding from embarrassment, and went to walk away but stopped. “W-what’s your name?”

She blinked. “My name.”

“Er, yeah.”

“To whom does it concern?”

“Me?” Elliot paused, realizing she meant for him to tell her his name. “Oh--um, Elliot?” The last part came out higher, like a question, but for some reason he still didn’t like speaking his own name out loud.

“Silva,” she said, turning back to her booth and not saying any more. 

Elliot swallowed again, standing there a moment with his newfound bread, not quite sure what to do next. After a moment he figured that walking on would be best, and plus he didn’t want to stick around that girl any longer and embarrass himself any more than he needed to.

She--Silva--hadn’t really seemed to care for him, but at least she finally accepted the tag--and he’d gotten bread. Food had been his original reason for coming to the market, and well, he’d at least succeeded in that. 

Elliot started walking down the road again, this time making sure to keep a watch for where he was going this time, not wanting to bump into any more arrogant girls. He kept a tight grip on the bread, the drawstring bag with the tags tied around his waist. He didn’t really feel like buying anything more right now, so he turned down a side road and left the market behind.

He wandered down the side roads for about ten minutes, looking for a safe place to sit down or something. The clocktower chimed eight thirty in the distance, the sound echoing around the hollowed cavern. 

You couldn’t really be lost in a new place, so he wasn’t going to call it being lost, but he really had no idea where he was. The bricks were uneven and misshapen here, some fully missing, and the few buildings were rundown. The dirt walls were closer now, stretching even higher than they had seemed to at first.

Then slowly, he felt it.

That same cold, uneasy feeling he had felt that evening at Cade’s Caravansary. 

It crept up on him, like the shadow of night at the end of day. He felt eyes on him--but no matter how many times he turned around, he couldn’t see anyone.

But Elliot remembered what had happened on the train--he’d felt the people. When he’d closed his eyes and really focused, Elliot had been able to pinpoint exactly where the people were and almost feel their exact energy.

Well, maybe that would help here.

So he closed his eyes and focused, and at first all he felt or heard was his own heartbeat, but slowly there was something. Like on the train. An energy.

But this time it felt dark and sinister, an energy that he definitely did not want to meet. But...it felt closer. Closer still.

He opened his eyes, feeling panicked, fervently glancing around, rubbing his hands together to try and calm himself, but it was no use.

Out of one of the side streets that led into the alley emerged a cloaked figure, the only real visible part, the eyes. The distinctly slitted, glowing eyes.

Elliot took a step back, his breath catching. It was the same person he’d seen at the Caravansary. It felt the same and looked the same.

So why were they here? 

The person walked closer to where Elliot stood frozen, and he noticed a long stick strapped to their back. Their fingers were long with almost claws at the tips, and they wore a deep red dress--or was it a cloak? Hard to tell, but fashion was the last thing on Elliot’s mind now. 

He took another step back, his mind racing, trying to find a way for him to get out, but coming up with nothing that would be successful. The person still walked towards him, taking their time and clearly knowing that that was driving Elliot crazy.

It couldn’t be his father, at least, he knew that much. The king didn’t have those eyes, only..

Only Grelphs did.

Elliot had read about them, before the king had taken the book away. They were a specious almost like Elves, but they had Gryphon blood, forming them into a harder, colder people. They lived in Andromarche, in the very farthest corner away from Lucero. They had slitted eyes like Witches and Warlems, He’d never met one in real life before, of course, but he’d always dreaded it.

And, well, here was one now. 

He ran his tongue over his dry lips, opening the bag again and looking to see if there was anything possibly useful in there. Nothing, other than the tags and the apple with one bite in it.  He wasn’t sure what business this Grelph had with him--if any--but he was going to go ahead and assume it wasn’t going to be anything good.

The Grelph stopped right in front of him, staring right at him, and Elliot staring back, not knowing what else to do.

“You are the Elf boy,” the Grelph said, and the voice wasn’t quite what Elliot had been expecting. For one it sounded like a woman’s. For two, it was almost slightly accented, rough at the edges. He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting though.

And--he still had his cloak on--how did she know he was an Elf? 

He didn’t say anything, all his focus on trying to steady his breathing, and failing.

The Grelph sniffed. “You’re not as impressive as you were made up to be.”

How--did he take that? She’d heard about him? 

Slowly, with one clawed hand, she reached up and drew that rather impressive stick and placed the end on the ground, dead serious.

Elliot backed up, his hands shaking, not even really knowing what to think. What did you think when you were alone underground with a Grelph cornering you with a stick? You didn’t think. 

If you were smart, you didn’t think, you ran.

But he had nowhere to run.

Nothing to defend himself with, no special skills, nothing at all. Elliot didn’t even know if she was here to kill him or what. 

The Grelph brought her hand up again to knock her hood down, a cruel smirk twisting her face. Her face was roughly angled, and strands of dark hair swept across her forehead. Her neck...was marked with two scars along the sides. 

This really wasn’t going to end well for him, was it. There wasn’t even a guess there--he just knew that up against this, the odds weren’t going to be in his favor. 

They never seemed to be in his favor. 

And this situation didn’t seem to be any different. 

Elliot backed up another few steps until his heels hit the wall of a building, stopping him. The Grelph smirked, her eyes hard as she slowly walked towards him, again taking her time and clearly knowing the terror it was causing Elliot. 

His breathing quickened, his vision blurring at the edges from panic. Somehow he knew that if she was here to kill him that he would die. He was going to die here, in a hole underground.

And for some reason he wasn’t too scared. Or maybe he was just too petrified to realize it and his mind was frozen. That also seemed a very likely excuse.

Elliot closed his eyes, attempting to get a firm grip on himself before he wouldn’t be there to grab tightly on. 

That was when he heard the shout come from across the street--not the Grelph, but someone else.

Opening his eyes fearfully, Elliot saw it was Reaper.

[silverpaintedstars]

Know what? Y’all are gonna get a run through of my newest WIP, How the Son of Shadows was Cast Out, cause I love it.

Elliot Loot is an elf. His father is the king of Lucero, and all elves have a gift, a sort of power. Elliot, however, never fully got his gift and thus is weaker. His older brother, Brenan, is strong and often abuses Elliot with it. It makes you feel pain from wounds you don’t have or see things that aren’t there. And his father is no more gracious. Where we start, is Elliot returning from the task his father sent him on, to kill a family of crown traitors. But Elliot can’t do it. He didn’t. So he has to tell his father, who is most displeased. This was Elliot’s second chance. He won’t get another. So there’s this whole TERRIBLY HARD TO WRITE scene with the king using his gift in Elliot, Elliot gaining that scar, and yeah. He wakes up in a city called Holden, where people are NOT elf-friendly. They’re seen as the bad guys, since their rule is so terrible. He meets this arrogant, ungifted elf named Silva Trecc, and the mysterious Reaper, who hides behind a mask. When Askance Inu arrives hunting Elliot down, Reaper has to get him to safety, as that was his job. Silva, happening to be there, winds up with them, half against her will. There Reaper, whos real name is Rapier, tells Elliot that he really is a Seamseer, someone who has power to play with time abd has dangerous abilities. With this information, they must evade Askance, stay alive, and travel to Ardoran, the neighboring kingdom—but there’s a terrible twist.

[silver-attempts-art]

Have a lil Silva guys

[silverpaintedstars]

i think elliot sneaks cookies at two am only to be caught by silva because she Never Sleeps and guards baked goods with her life

[silverpaintedstars]

Multiples of 10 for Silva (that's her name, right? I need to read more of your story! I think that's right but I'm not entirely sure)?

(yes it's Silva!)

10. Do they have any nick names? her dad used to call her Silvy! But I bet if anyone else did now she would kill them.

20. What do they look like? Ooh. She has PRETTY LONG brown hair, green eyes, and this like, mark thing up from her left side of her jaw to just under her eye. My friend thinks it's lettuce. Also a few tiny light freckles.

30. What music do they enjoy? ooooh. I'm going to assume like me, (because she is a lot of ways me) and like, alt rock and that.

40. How do they become who they are? OH NOOOOO. Okay. UH. *nervous cackling* she became how she is, which is sarcastic, annoyed, and annoyING, when her dad was killed by elves when they moved to Holden, and her mom's sanity kinda shut down and Silva had to fend for the whole family. She kinda can't trust anyone now and tries to scare them off basically.

50.Do they enjoy the arts? Yes! She likes painting/s!

60. In a crowed room are they in the corners, sides, or in the middle? Probably the sides?

70. Do they like themselves? mmm. yes and no at the same time.

80. How would they fair in zombie apocalypse? THIS IS THE BEST QUESTION EVER 10/10. She would COMPLETELY be thriving and SLAYING them zombies

90. What is their occupation? ametuer baker, basically

100. Are they a day, or night person? night!

thanks for the asks!!