I am Maribel Holloway, age 16, and I am an adventurer on a quest to escort Prince Ren Drakemore to Hyperion alongside my friend Shadow.

I open my eyes to find Shadow sitting above me, fully dressed, looking down in silence. I blink away the grogginess and take in my surroundings. We're still in the tent, and I'm naked, wrapped snugly in thick blankets, cradled in his arms like a child. My face flushes with a strange mix of vulnerability and comfort I've never felt before. His embrace is steady, protective.

"Good morning, Maribel," he says calmly, gently lowering me back onto the sleeping pad.

I stare up at him for a moment, unsure how to respond. I want to ask why he was holding me like that… but I don't. It wasn't a bad way to wake up after all.

"Good morning," I manage, still trying to shake off sleep.

"If you wouldn't mind getting dressed," Shadow says evenly, "there's something we need to discuss."

That pulls me upright. "Oh… sure." My heart sinks a little at the change in tone.

As I gather my clothes and begin dressing, my mind races. Did I do something wrong last night? Go too far? Misread the moment? I didn't mean to make things complicated. I just wanted to comfort him—to give him the warmth he's always given me. What if I pushed him away?

Fully dressed, I turn back toward him. He's still seated exactly where he was—still composed, still unreadable. But now I notice something new: a flat, black object resting in his lap.

"Please, come sit with me," Shadow says gently, motioning to the spot ahead of him. I hesitate for only a moment before settling in front of him, nerves still fluttering in my chest as I look up at him.

"What's wrong?" I ask, my voice low and uncertain.

"I want to give you something—something that will ensure that no matter what happens, I can always be able to protect you." His fingers move slowly over the object in his lap, tracing its edges with care.

"Oh… what is it?" I ask, smiling with a rush of relief. Whatever this is, it isn't anger or rejection.

"This mask is enchanted with a version of myself," Shadow explains. "If you allow it, it will form a telepathic connection between us. You'll be able to communicate with me—share thoughts, even images—from great distances."

I blink in surprise. "It can do that?"

He nods. "It will also grant you access to a mana pool three times larger than your own, and with it, knowledge of all the spells I've learned."

"You're saying I could use all your spells?" I ask, baffled. The idea seems too incredible to be real.

"You'll have the knowledge," he confirms. "But knowledge isn't mastery. Your success will depend on your natural aptitude, reflexes, and your ability to focus. The mask can teach you, but it can't make you skilled overnight."

I look at him, unsure how to feel. "That sounds… powerful. And incredibly valuable."

"It is," Shadow agrees. "But more than that, it's personal. This isn't just a magical tool—it's a part of me. My voice. My guidance. My protection. I wouldn't entrust it to just anyone."

He holds out the mask. It's a smooth, flat black, with pale white markings fanning out from the left eye socket like rays of sunlight. I stare at it in wonder. Even without touching it, I can feel It radiates magical power.

I feel an almost magnetic pull—like it's calling to me. Power hums from its surface, washing over me in gentle waves, not threatening but beckoning. It wants me to take it. To accept it.

But I already know I will.

The moment Shadow said this would keep us connected—that no matter what happened, we'd never be apart—I knew. I didn't need time to think or a list of reasons. I knew in my heart, without hesitation.

Whatever the cost… staying close to him is worth it.

I reach out and take the mask.

All at once, my vision goes black, and I'm flooded with warmth. A powerful energy surrounds me completely, wrapping around every inch of me like a heavy, invisible blanket.

"Hello, Maribel."

Who are you? What's happening to me?

"Calm down. I am the mask. When you touched me, you fell asleep—but you're safe. Shadow is watching over you."

I'm asleep? I still feel awake…

The voice surrounds me. It isn't like Shadow's. It's higher in pitch—still male, but softer, more youthful. And though I should be panicking in this pitch-black void, I'm not. I feel... calm. Strangely at peace.

"I placed you into this state to make our integration easier."

Are you... Shadow?

"No. I'm not the Shadow you know. I'm a copy—born from him, but not him. After we finish integrating, I will be your Shadow."

What do you mean, integration?

"Integration means I'll connect with your memories, your thoughts—what you want, and what you need. When we're bonded, I'll be your companion, one who understands you completely, without judgment. I'll help you achieve your goals."

Will it hurt?

"I will be gentle. Do I have your permission to proceed?"

No sooner do I think yes than I feel it—a strange presence inside my mind, like a hand gently pressing against the inside of my skull. There's a pressure behind my eyes, slithering like a snake curling through the folds of my thoughts. I try to flinch, to raise my hands to my head—but my body doesn't respond. I'm frozen.

It's not painful, exactly. Just… invasive. Unfamiliar. Unsettling.

Then the memories begin.

They come in flashes—snapshots from my life, starting when I was just a baby. Images race past in rapid succession, flipping faster and faster, like the pages of a book caught in a whirlwind. And with each one, I feel everything all over again. The emotions crash into me like waves—fear, joy, sorrow, anger, love. It's like being strapped to a runaway wagon, barreling through the peaks and valleys of my past with no way to slow down or escape.

My heart swells with joy as I relive a birthday from many years ago—my mother and father presenting me with a cake, their smiling faces already fading into the next memory. I see a small, hooded figure placing a healing potion beside me before running off. That blurs away too, replaced by the face of a cruel man, and I feel again the fear, the sadness, the self-hate I carried in those moments.

I'm riding this torrent of memories and emotions, overwhelmed and helpless to stop it.

But I'm not alone.

That presence in my mind—it's not just watching. It's feeling. I can sense it sharing my pain, my small joys, the bitterness of abandonment and betrayal. It sees every time I was ignored, hurt, passed over. Every time I cried alone in the dark. Every moment I fought to survive when no one cared if I did.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

And then—stillness.

The rush of memories ends with one final, vivid image: lying beside Shadow last night. The warmth. The safety. The sense of belonging. The feeling of love that filled me so completely, it frightened me.

Then comes the voice—soft, warm, and so deeply there it feels like it echoes from my soul.

"None of that was your fault. You didn't deserve what happened to you. You deserve so much more."

And just like that, the presence doesn't feel separate anymore. It's not a guest in my mind. It's with me. Of me. Moving as I move, thinking as I think.

Thank you, Shadow, is it?

"There is already someone very important to us with that name, you can call me Envy."

Ok, it's nice to meet you, Envy.

"Same to you, thank you for sharing all you are with me."

With that, my eyes open and again I see Shadow looking down at me. All my sensations return, and I realize I am wet with sweat, lying on the floor.

"Welcome back, Maribel."

"Thanks, I realize I should have asked a few more questions before I touched that mask," I remark with a groan, and I sit up. I am not in pain, but my brain feels sore.

"Regretting it already?" Shadow asks with concern.

"No, he seems sweet so far." I say, getting to my feet. Shadow rises to his feet as well. I realize that the mask is still clutched in my hand.

"And nice to meet you too, Envy." Shadow adds.

"Pleasure is all mine, Shadow."

"Oh, so you can hear him too?" I ask

"When I want him to, I work for you, not him."

"That's right," Shadow says, holding back the flap of the tent and gesturing for me to follow him. "Anyway, come outside. There's something you need to see."

I follow him and step outside into the clearing. My face is greeted by the warmth of the midday sun, its light gentle on my skin. Near the remains of the fire, I spot the young prince sitting hunched on the log, doubled over with his head in his hands, clearly suffering from a headache. The campfire has long since burned down to cold ashes, the faintest hint of smoke curling upward in lazy wisps.

Midday? But… wasn't it still morning when I woke up?

"Our integration may have felt brief from your perspective," the voice in my head replies calmly, "but you've been asleep for six hours."

A soft breeze brushes my face, but instead of the gentle scent of forest air I expect, it carries the putrid stench of death. The smell is one I've grown far too familiar with to gag at, but I still wrinkle my nose in disgust. I turn, scanning the clearing for the source of the foul odor—only to be met with a sight so jarring my mind struggles to process it.

Lying around the perimeter of the clearing are no fewer than forty bloodied corpses of various large beasts, twisted into unnatural positions. I see eviscerated mountain wolves, the mangled remains of two mithril bears, a giant centipede cleaved into scattered segments, and countless unidentifiable bits of fur, scale, and gore.

"W-What happened?" I stammer, frozen in shock.

"A fair number of the forest's denizens seem to have been drawn here by the scent of food during the night," Willow answers, standing near the remnants of the tent as it folds itself neatly back into a compact bundle. Her tone is so casual, so detached, that it sounds like she's commenting on the weather—not explaining a massacre that somehow didn't wake me.

"Some of these were A-rank monsters… Who—how did you—who killed them?" I stammer, unable to make sense of the scene.

"Willow killed them," Shadow says matter-of-factly as he steps out from our tent behind me.

"Willow…?" I echo, my eyes darting back to the serene, silver-haired woman.

She meets my incredulous stare with a knowing, almost playful smirk—like the answer was obvious all along. But how? There isn't a drop of blood on her. Not a tear in her dress. Not a hair out of place.

But she's just… she's a maid!

"Willow is a lot more powerful than she seems."

I don't know what to say. My mind races in utter confusion and my throat burns from swallowing my bitter jealousy. I'd assumed she was just some overly graceful servant—an attendant with a nice face and a refined voice. But now… she's powerful too? Capable of annihilating monsters I wouldn't dream of facing? Of course, Shadow is drawn to her. How could I ever compete with someone like that?

"Shadow does not love her the way he loves you. She is his mentor. I promise, you don't need to compete for his love. You won that prize a long time ago."

I did? Envy's words wash over me like warm rain, bringing a shaky smile to my lips and a sting of tears to my eyes. It's not Shadow himself saying the words, but Envy is a copy of him—part of him. He must understand both of us better than we understand ourselves.

Thank you, Envy, I think, looking down at the mask still clutched in my hands.

"Thank you, Maribel, for letting me be a part of you."

I hug the mask tightly. It probably looks silly, but I need to do something, anything to express the wave of emotion rising in me. Then I hold it out and look at it in wonder. As if speaking to the mask, I think:

Okay, Envy… how does this work? Do I need to wear this? Who else can hear you? Do I have to be touching the mask to talk to you?

"Slow down," he murmurs, his voice calm and gentle. "I know you have a lot of questions. Let's take them one at a time."

"First: your telepathic link with me works across long distances. I'm not sure of the exact range, but it spans many miles. You don't need to wear the mask and putting it away in your bag won't break the connection."

That's good, I think with a breath of relief. I was worried I'd have to wear you or something.

"You will need to wear me if you want to take full advantage of what I can do for you," Envy replies, his voice calm but firm. "Generally speaking, if you're in danger, put me on. When you're safe, you can take me off."

"You two seem like you're getting along," Shadow remarks from across the clearing as he tosses the last of the two tents into the back of the wagon. Glancing over, I see that they've finished packing up while I was lost in conversation with Envy. Ren and Willow are already seated inside—Ren reclined against Willow's lap, lazily rubbing his temple between thumb and forefinger, looking like his headache still hasn't passed.

"Perhaps you can continue to get to know each other on the road?" Shadow adds, his voice light as he offers a hand to help me up.

I smile, slipping Envy's mask carefully into my bag. Then, instead of taking Shadow's hand, I step forward and wrap my arms around him, hugging his towering metal frame tightly.

He doesn't say anything, but his arms slowly wrap around my back. We stay like that for a moment before I finally pull away and climb up onto the wagon's driver seat. I slide over to make room, and Shadow climbs up after me, the wagon rocking slightly under his weight.

He takes up the reins, and I settle beside him, leaning gently against his side. With a low groan, Huckleberry and Buttercup strain into motion, pulling us forward down the winding forest path toward Hyperion.

As the wheels creak and the canopy above shifts in the midday breeze, I sit curled next to him—warmed by his presence and the light filtering through the leaves. Birds chirp in the distance, the air hums with life, and for a brief moment, the world feels still.

But not my thoughts.

They are tangled and restless.

And then I feel Envy stir, as if responding to my self-doubt.

"Maribel?"

I'm here.

"Last night was… important," he says gently. "For both of you."

It was, I admit, heart tightening. But now I'm second-guessing it. Did I move too fast?

There's a heavy pause before Envy responds.

"You followed your heart," Envy says. "And that's nothing to regret. Shadow needed your warmth—your love. And he accepted it."

Then what's wrong?

"Nothing is wrong," he assures me, the voice inside me like a hand on my shoulder. "But I want you to understand something: Shadow is still learning who he is. Not just what he is now, but who he wants to be, especially around you."

But I thought I was helping him feel better...

"You did," Envy says warmly. "However, sometimes when someone's finding their path, the best gift you can give is to be by their side while giving them space to grow."

I fall quiet, the ache in my chest softening.

So, you're saying I should slow down?

"I'm saying he's not as far along the road as you are—and that's okay," Envy replies. "He needs your love, yes. But he also needs patience. Let him reach for you in his own time. When he does… it'll be even more meaningful."

I nod slowly, the words settling in. I don't need to rush. Shadow isn't going anywhere—and neither am I.

Thank you, I whisper in my mind.

"Always," Envy replies. "That's what I'm here for."

And as the wagon rolls steadily down the long road toward Hyperion, I lean gently into Shadow's side. He responds by wrapping one arm around me, pulling me in with quiet care. It might just be my imagination, but it feels like there's an unspoken contentment in this simple closeness.

The future will come when it's ready. For now, this moment is enough.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.