Chapter Seven
The skies have been barking at us, lighting up the horizon and threatening to drench us if we don’t pick up the pace.
I can see the storm in the distance when I look back, the dark clouds hanging over the distant valleys.
My village was right. I imagine rain pelting at the walls of Sun Sovereign and bolts of lightning screaming in the sky.
My feet quicken as we travel away from the heavens’ assault, though each crack that splits the sky in two reminds us of the surge gaining on us.
Tall grass swallows my boots up as we edge closer to the place that gave me nightmares as a child.
Ryder walks slightly ahead, wading over the rubble and bones of a building that once stood tall.
I stand for a moment in the heart of its carcass, seeing remnants of what this place could have been.
A strange feeling washes over me. Bricks scatter over the scorched ground, their grey cement tarnished by soot and ash.
Some still cling to each other, like they made an oath to stay together even as the flames threatened to tear them apart, now they stand as a relentless half wall refusing to crumble fully, though I know if I gave it a kick, the wall would probably all come tumbling down.
My feet come to rest at a broken podium, much like the ones that stand guard over Sun Castle.
Though this one is chipped and tarnished, and I can see where the flames licked its surface, eating its original white marble and replacing it with a charcoal grey colour.
Its other half lies in the ground, protruding upwards like a broken rib.
My hand glides against its rough surface.
Graffiti plagues its skeleton with words like ‘SUN SCUM’ and ‘ALL SUNS TO DIE’, tainting whatever purity remains of this place.
Saliva wells in my mouth, and my heart quickens as I read these words.
I know I do not belong here.
The wind howls low, almost as if it is mourning something, and my hairs stand alert.
There’s a weight here, not just in the air but in my chest, pressing down like a grief I’ve never lived.
I walk straight ahead, though my eyes dart around me, unsure of the strange feeling that numbs me.
A faint whisper in the wind whisks my head away with it.
I immediately make eyes with Ryder to see if he had beckoned me, if the wind had dragged his words from his lips to meet my eardrums, but he stands facing away from me, staring at a scorched altar.
The trees rattle as I continue towards him, their leaves encouraged to shake by the wind, but no person hides in their branches whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
“What happened here?” I ask Ryder, ignoring the strange energy emanating from this place.
“It used to be a Sun temple many years ago, before the Moons burned it to the ground.” He talks while he walks, ash dancing through the air as his feet disturb it. Funny. This place feels more like a graveyard than a temple.
Lightning flashes again, making me jump; it’s much closer now, throwing jagged shadows across the ruins like the ghosts themselves are reaching out. A whisper haunts me again, too broken to make sense but too loud to ignore. My stomach swirls as my feet urge me to escape the hallowed ground.
The first cold drop hits my face. We need to move.
Something about that place affected me. When I stood on its ruins, I wanted nothing more than to run as far as my feet would take me.
But now I stand as an outsider looking in, my body aches to hear the whispers again, like the shallow breaths are calling out to me, drawing me in.
But I have to keep moving, I can’t afford to dwell on it.
Ryder says we are almost at the Shadow Realm, and I have to focus; otherwise, I may share the same fate as the temple.
“Okay, remember what I said—Do as I say.” Ryder reaffirms to me as we approach a clearing.
“Yes, sir.” I snark and sarcastically salute him.
“Seriously, Asha. The stakes are too high to be making jokes.” His words send a shiver down my spine, and I nod my head at him.
He’s right: if they even sense that I do not belong in their world, I risk being killed.
Their hatred for the Suns is like a sickness they want to eradicate.
I saw it written on the remains of that temple; they won’t stop until they have washed their hands of us all.
Ryder pulls up my oversized hood so my face is cast in shadow.
The landscape ahead of me does not warrant anything out of the ordinary—just an empty field where the trees have halted around its circumference.
Ryder continues ahead, he too wearing a long hooded coat.
I can feel the storm nipping at my heels as we tread across the open plane.
The moisture in the air licks at my exposed skin as I walk, the backs of my hands and my cheeks dampen with a slight sheen.
“I thought you said we were close?” I ask Ryder, who is trudging a few steps ahead of me.
“We are.” He says, not stopping to face me. “You see that over there.” He points to a tree I hadn’t noticed before. It stands crooked and gnarled, like it’s been twisted with centuries of pain. “That’s our way in.”
Of course it is.
The fear that had been harbouring in my bones crashes to the surface. My feet betray my mind with every step. And suddenly, being caught in the impending storm doesn’t feel so bad. The weather doesn’t seem half as tumultuous as what lies ahead.
Long skeletal branches stretch out like clawed fingers, some broken, others reaching for the sky as if begging or cursing it.
No leaves cling to its limbs, its naked and exposed.
Telling sombre truths that reap a reckoning.
Suddenly, the clearing makes sense. This twisted tree, rooted in the centre of the field, had clearly frightened the others around it so badly that they refused to grow in its vicinity.
A branch hangs over me like an outstretched palm signalling me to halt as I stand, as if it is warning me to turn around while I still can.
The bile in my throat slugs back down as I defy its orders and continue towards its trunk.
My muscles turn to lead as nerves claim them.
Its bark is dry and groans with the wind, fostering tormented faces in its wood.
“We’re here.” Ryder declares as we stand inches away from the bark. I always thought the shadow realm would have monsters guarding it, or I’d hear bloodcurdling screams the minute I got too close. But here we are, somehow in front of its gates, and the landscape remains undisturbed.
Ryder stands close and whispers into its wood.
“Tenebrae.” The words instil a chill down my spine, one much harsher than the bite of the storm.
I am not familiar with that word. I have read hundreds of books, and yet it is still foreign to me, but Ryder was so quick to place it on the tip of his tongue.
It is clear he has made this journey before.
The bark comes alive like the word breathed life into it.
Opening its walls with a groan to reveal its hollowed inside.
Ryder steps in and pulls me before my knees have a chance to buckle with worry.
We stand shoulder to shoulder in the shell of the tree whilst the floor beneath us begins to descend.
“Remember, Asha. You are Moon. You possess the Gift of Shadoro like me. And you keep your head down.” He has been spinning this web since we started our journey. Getting me to repeat it so I don’t slip up.
“I am a Moon. I possess the Gift of Shadoro. And I will keep my head down.” I mutter to myself as if reminding myself one last time. I take in the words like I am inhaling a large gulp of air before submerging into the depths, unsure of the moment I’ll be able to breathe again.
“Remind me again how you know about this place?” I press my back against the curved wooden wall and cross my arms, trying to ignore the churning in my stomach caused by the downward motion of this odd lift.
He looks down at me, his brown eyes half covered by the oversized hood resting on his forehead.
“I came here as a child, after I left the orphanage. I spent a few months here, would’ve been longer, but I found myself in some sort of trouble.” He takes a long exhale and scratches at the back of his neck.
“Ryder Stormwood, in trouble? Why am I not surprised?” I snort sarcastically as a small chuckle escapes my mouth. “What did you do?” I pry as Ryder smirks back at me.
“I took something that wasn’t mine.” Is all he says, and even though this was years ago, he still looks pretty impressed with himself.
“Well, did you give it back?” I ask, the elevator squeaking as it carries us further down into its depths.
“What do you think?” He stares down at me and cocks his head to the side, crossing his arms, and I know all I need to know. I roll my eyes at him. Of course, he didn’t give the damned thing back.
“Well, let’s hope they don’t hold a grudge,” I reply, suddenly realising why he needs a hooded robe too.
The wooden pod shakes as it reaches the end of its journey. I uncross my arms and lean up off the wall.
“Stay close to me.” Ryder orders, and I give him a weak nod, anxious about what hysteria awaits us behind the door.
He leans in and whispers against the wood. “Tenebrae.”
He mutters those foreign words again, and suddenly my heart beats a little too quickly. The doors are opening before I have a chance to steady myself. My lungs release a shaky breath, holding on to the side of the lift for a moment to ground myself.