Fall of Autumn, Week 5, Day 1

I would be lying if I said I didn't have expectations about what Captain Ridan would look like, but it was sure as day he defied them. I had been imagining a tall, burly man, like Oberon. Not necessarily bald, but with hair cropped short. And I had definitely expected him to be wearing armor—or at least look presentable.

What I got, however, was a shaggy mop of black hair on a man that looked as lanky as a still-growing teenager. He was tall, though. Or at least he seemed tall compared to me. And he was technically wearing armor. Aside from his untucked, flowing tunic and his loose cloth pants, he had on shin guards and a vambrace, both in the same cream color of the Dusk Knighthood's armor.

He walked in with an easy smile, but his curls were covering his eyes so I couldn't see if it was truly genuine.

"Ah, cousin! It's nice to meet you," he said, plopping down on the sofa and placing his hands over his eyes, as if to block out the light.

I didn't really see the point, since his hair was so thick.

"Cousin," I replied, bewildered and amused at his antics, and leaned forward, putting my chin into my palm. "I'm Nora."

"Wonderful," he mumbled. "I'm Radir, but friends call me Rad."

I huffed, blowing a loose curl out of my face, "And family?"

As I watched him, Captain Ridan's lazy smile shifted—showing a touch too much teeth, "They call me Captain."

A man after my own heart. I thought silently, a mean smile forming.

"I hear your grandmother was a true Light of Dawn," I mused. "She must have been related to my grandfather."

"Great Uncle Killian was a menace of a man," Captain Ridan added lightly, as if he was not insulting the previous Duke of Dawn.

"Well, I wouldn't know," I laughed. "I've never met him."

"Count yourself lucky. Ha! Count. Did that one on accident." He laughed.

I snorted, more out of disbelief than amusement, but the amusement was definitely there.

"You're not very reverent." I found myself saying softly.

At that, Captain Ridan sat up. "You wouldn't be either if the great Duke of Dawn forced your family to the outskirts, requiring them to serve the borderlands for five generations."

I hummed. "It doesn't really matter to me, to be honest. You could tell me every Duke and Duchess of Dawn were saints sent by Maeve herself, and I'd still think they were a bunch of monsters in human skin."

Barking out a laugh, Ridan finally pulled back the hair covering his eyes. I was unsurprised to find two white orbs looking back at me. Gray and white streaks marked where his iris and pupil should have been, and a scar was going from the outer edge of one eye to the outer edge of the other.

"Their descendants are usually just as monstrous, in my experience." He said, and I heard the accusation in his voice.

"The Countess?" I asked, keeping my voice light, even though a pit was forming in my stomach. This had not been on the paper I'd studied.

"Mallorica said, and I quote, 'Evenor, he's too rowdy.'"

I nodded, though I wasn't sure if he could perceive it. He had to have a Skill for such things. I knew his specialty was strategy and covert operations, so it wouldn't be a crazy leap to make.

"So the Count and the Countess."

Pressing his mouth into a line, I could see Captain Ridan processing what I was saying—and what I wasn't. A defense. A consolation.

"You're supposed to teach me history and strategy, right?" I asked, cutting his thinking short.

"I am," was his simple reply.

I met his sharp expression with one of my own.

"Then teach me all the heinous things the Dawns have done. I can't fix them, but I can know them."

Captain Ridan looked at me for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"Get comfortable, but not too comfortable. You'll write down everything I say—every word, every dramatic pause, every side thought—and at the end of our time together you'll burn that piece of paper and we'll say we talked about whatever is in that damn schedule your butler gave me."

Pulling out a pencil and a notebook from my bag, I nodded. "Got it."

Suddenly, the man's eyes shot down to the ground, where Noir had stood up and was toddling away to join the other animations behind the sofa doing who knows what.

"What is that?" He said, scandalized, "And why does it read like an elemental?"

I blinked, looking down at Noir, who had paused in his toddling to look up at Captain Ridan. It was creepy and cute both. I went to answer, but Entertainer's mocking voice piped up before I could.

"If it walks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck."

It was at that moment I felt ice well up in my veins, mana I had not called radiated out into the world, and I recognized it.

It was [Otherworldly].

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

It wanted me to reach for Noir. I could see the path of my mana running toward him.

I didn't hesitate, I dropped out of my chair and dove. My hands wrapped around Noir, just as a blade manifested in Captain Ridan's hand.

It was made up of a white flame, and he was pointing it at where Noir had previously stood.

I slid backwards until I hit the edge of a bookshelf, Noir tight in my arms.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, horrified.

"More like what are you doing—holding an elemental captive?" He growled, repositioning himself to where the burning blade was facing me again.

"Captive?" I parroted, furrowing my brow, "I'm not holding him captive!"

"Like the Below you aren't," Ridan said, lunging toward me.

He was fast. Too fast to dodge. His hand was wrapped around my wrist, and my heartbeat flooded my ears.

Trapped.

I gasped, feeling the ice of my mana in the air once again. Remnants of [Otherworldly]. It was between that moment and the next when I released the shadows on my nails—lengthening and sharpening them as I reached for Ridan's hand, fighting to grab Noir.

Before the shadows made contact, Ridan disappeared. Flashing half a room away, his blade dimmed—no longer a white fire raging but instead a dull glow radiating.

"Good Gods, you terrified me, little Light." Ridan huffed. "I didn't know you were an elementalist."

As he slid back onto the sofa, my heart continued to bang against my ribcage, and I felt my lungs constrict.

"I—"

"And you could have just said that was your contracted spirit." He hummed, "No need to be so dramatic."

"He's—"

"Seriously, you're a Dawn. It's not like anyone would be surprised. Though I have to say—a darkness spirit is rare for a light-affiliated family." Ridan barely paused to look at me.

Meanwhile, I was—I was struggling.

"Nora!"

"Breathe!"

"You need to take a breath. Now!"

"What the? There's more?" But as he asked his idiotic questions, he also realized I couldn't breathe.

All at once, the air in the room shifted, and my lungs moved, and fresh air filled my chest. I spluttered with the force of the breath. I glared at Captain Ridan as I did so.

"That's my bad, kid," Ridan sighed. "I was so shocked, I let my aura loose. You should feel better soon."

"Come back to us, Nora," Shade's feminine voice filled my ears, and I looked at the knit lizard perched on my shoulder. For as little expression as it could actually make, I knew Shade was worried.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," I said to the spirits, but my voice shook, and my hands were unsteady as I retracted my shadow nails.

"I'll be okay," I said finally, sitting up and pressing my back against the bookshelf firmly for extra support.

"Cousin, get it together. It's just a bit of aura—you have your own, surely you've felt someone else's before." Ridan sounded unbothered, and that was the final straw.

Pushing myself up, I screamed.

"GRISTLE! GEORGE! ARELLA! ANYONE!" The windows shook and cracked, and Ridan jolted up—his mouth dropping, but his upper face back to being covered. "HELP ME!"

"I'm here, little Godtouched."

Time froze and jolted, and horror filled me.

No. No! It's not supposed to be possible to call a God outside of Hallowed ground!

"There is Divinity in this manor, darling." I tried to look away, but my eyes were drawn to the tear in reality that made itself known. Pale skin, baby yellow hair, white irises and pupils—like Ridan's but natural. There were no scars on the woman's smooth skin. No wrinkles in the soft fabric that flowed around her.

"No, no, no! I didn't call you—" I felt the stinging of tears, of memories I had shoved down, of fangs and blood and a fallen protector.

"Shhhh," she cooed and reached for me. I flinched back, but she was undeterred. Her palm brushed my forehead, and I felt the sharp edges of panic ebb. "I am here now. You need not be afraid. Let me take your wounds before they threaten to overwhelm you. Let me be what you have never had—a protector."

My eyes fluttered closed as the warmth of the Goddess' magic filled me, filling me with the sensation of lying out under the suns. In the end, that was what did it.

It wasn't right.

Magic wasn't warm. Not my magic. My magic was ice cold, it was darkness incarnate. It was not bright. It was not daylight.

I opened my eyes and felt my mana ooze out of me once again. Shadows curled and crawled toward me. The wisps infused into my animations called to me. With half a thought, I pulled them out of the bodies they inhabited.

The wisps oozed out of the knit animals, creating puddles of darkness underneath the now limp bodies of Noir, Haze, and Shade.

"I have enough protectors," I said, and though my voice was barely a whisper, I could feel the power in them.

I reached up and brushed the Goddess's hand away from my head.

"My strongest guardian is Noir."

In front of me, the puddle of shadows around Noir shifted and shaped themselves into a small humanoid. No larger than the knit bunny he had once inhabited.

"My most beloved confidant is Haze."

On one side of me, the puddle of shadow shifted color, turning iridescent. Its shape matched Noir's new being.

"My staunchest support is Shade."

On the other side of me, a deep green shadow grew from the ground. Its limbs were shorter than the others who had manifested, but it was no less humanoid.

All three spirits lifted their arms.

"I do not need my wounds taken away." I felt my power growing thin, the limits of my Divinity reaching its edge. I put everything into what I said next. "My wounds will heal—or I will die. There is no in-between."

I was unable to look away as the Goddess frowned, "I will not force my Compassion down your throat, Godtouched. You do not need nor want such a thing. I will find someone who will accept my gifts willingly."

The Goddess stepped back—just far enough away from me that I could breathe again—and glanced at Ridan.

"Usually, I would leave a gift behind. A part of me. But as your Light burns bright on its own, I will not burden you so."

She fully turned to Ridan and smiled. Her already gentle face grew softer, more ethereal, more kind. "I am Frill, the Goddess of Compassion, and I can feel your wounds thrumming—begging to be healed. I will not bother to ask."

She reached out her hand toward Ridan, and soft motes of light brought back the warmth my mana had sucked away. They sank into Ridan's eyes.

Then, Frill was gone.

And in her wake, I received three notifications.

[Congratulations! Shadow Animation has met the requirements to level up. Shadow Animation is now Level 11.]

[Congratulations! You have exercised enough Divinity to create a Domain! You have consumed 25 Divinity. You have 107 Divinity remaining.]

[Congratulations! Your Domain has been influenced by your Heritage and your Affinity. You have gained the Skill: A Shade of Dawn.]

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.