Shadow Light
A Short Fairy Tale
By Sarah Delena White
© 2020 Sarah Delena White
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Editing by Janeen Ippolito
Cover design by AC Graphics
“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”
-1 John 4:18 (ESV)
Night lived in a tower at the end of the world.
Some said she breathed nightmares into the minds of sleepers. Others said she spun webs of shadow that could strangle a man while he dreamed. But no one knew the path to her ebony tower, where the moon shone from the highest turret. No one questioned the truth of the rumors, for Night was strange and secret.
Her name was Layla, and the world did not know her.
Day had no tower.
He trod the paths of the world without ceasing, carrying a smile and a song for anyone who was near. Many were his friends, for he carried the sun in the folds of his cloak and gave its rays to all who needed light and warmth.
When the sun’s power waned at the end of each day, all the houses of the world shut their doors against the perils of the night. But no one gave a thought to where Day went while the sun did not shine. He was fated to walk alone on dark and perilous paths, facing whatever terrors rose out of the shadows. Thus he protected the lands while they slept, carrying only a sword and the hope of dawn.
His name was Aeric, and the world held no refuge for him.
It was a night of the new moon when Coroc, the first shadowfiend, rose. Cold as ice and black as ink, he crept across the forests and towns, with death in his talons and despair in his wings. He hungered for light, and light he sought, from the smallest flickers of candle flames to the blaze of the sun and moon themselves.
More fiends followed, until the land was flooded with an army that slipped through the shadows and descended on every city and town in the land. At first they walked only in the deepest darkness and stole the light of the candleflames in the loneliest vales. As time went on, though, they grew bolder, until at last even the brightest skies did not hinder them. They whispered fear into the hearts of the people, and every household in the lands barricaded their homes lest the fiends swallow up their hearth fires and lantern lights. Many people fell beneath their claws, for the fiends despised all life and joy.
Only Aeric dared to stand against the fiends, until he was weary from a hundred battles and a thousand nights of hunting. The rays of the sun could not conquer so great a host, but still the people of the lands demanded his aid.
“This is the work of Layla. Surely Coroc and the fiends are the creation of Night herself.” The same words were on the tongue of each person in the devastated villages and demolished manors. They looked to Aeric and spoke with accusation in their voices. “You should save us from these fiends. How will you destroy them?”
Aeric said, “I will find the path to Night’s tower and persuade her to stop unleashing the monsters upon us.” For he knew little of Layla aside from the rumors that filled the lands, and he thought she might indeed be the maker of their troubles.
Then he bid the warriors of the cities to come with him on the perilous journey, that they might face the fiends together. But the lords of the land would not go, for they were busy sitting upon their thrones and fretting over their futures. The generals would not go, nor the knights, nor the farmers’ sons and foundlings, for they saw no hope in the journey.
“You carry the sun in your cloak,” they said to Aeric. “There is nothing you need from us. Go and save us by yourself.”
Though their words struck sorrow in his heart, he could not ignore the road that fate had laid for him, and he determined to wield his light against the darkness though he might perish. Thus Aeric ventured into the uncharted paths of the world with no one by his side, keeping the moon always in his sights that he might find Layla’s tower. On and on he walked, across plains and through marshlands, until his feet were blistered and his shoulders were bowed. The wilderness deepened, becoming a gnarl of oaks as ancient as the world itself. The wind grew cold and bitter, and the path sloped upward into the vast northern hills. The shadowfiends accosted him at every turn, glee dancing in their icy eyes.
“So many friends, and yet you are alone,” they said. “Now you know your true worth.”
Each shadowfiend he met, he destroyed with the rays of the sun. But though he silenced the fiends, their words cast gloom over his heart.
One night, as Aeric ascended a barren plateau, a great fiend came up on him. The battle raged on until the moon’s light shone fullest, and still Aeric’s sword did not touch his foe and the fiend did not tire. They fought until Aeric could not draw another breath or swing his sword once more at the creature. He collapsed to the stony ground, bitterly giving himself over to defeat.
Light flashed over him. A single star, silver and shining, fell from the sky and burst into sparks over the fiend as it brandished its claws to strike at Aeric’s throat. The creature roared as the bits of light pierced its shadowy skin. Amid the starlight, Aeric saw the ghost of a figure, a woman with hair like midnight and a face so beautiful and sad it made his heart ache. She touched her hand to the creature’s leering face and its shadows failed, collapsing until nothing remained of the monster but a dying breath of chill wind.
“Who are you?” Aeric asked in wonder. But the woman vanished in a shower of stardust and he stood alone on the plateau.
The sun’s power waxed and Aeric cast the dawn into the sky. Yet he did not see the colors of the sunrise that morning, for his mind was filled with memories of the woman made of starlight. Higher and higher he walked, along perilous paths through the steep slopes of the mountains, until the air grew thin and ice swirled around him in the gales. Still he climbed, scaling each lifeless crag, and the moon loomed larger and larger before him.
When at last he could climb no higher, the walls of the great tower of Night rose before him, and he stood shivering and weary in its shadows. The moon shone from the highest turret, and the wide doors of the tower were woven around with iron and locked many times over. Yet the wind was at peace here and the shadowfiends did not show their faces. Many thousands of stars rested on the eaves, humming with power and sparkling with light—a welcome and a warning, Aeric thought, to any creature that dared come near.
He had come in search of an enemy, thinking Layla had unleashed the fiends, but as he stood before the gates he began to sense the truth. He perceived this was not the domain of fiends and monsters, and all of the challenges and accusations he had meant to speak abandoned him. This tower had the feeling of both a haven and a cage. He wondered what had driven Night here and what truths the tales about her left out.
“Layla!” he called, but there was no reply from the tower. The stars sparkled, as if countless eyes watched him and wondered. “I mean you no harm.”
“What do you want, then?” Suddenly she was before him, standing on the battlements above the great door. “So many claim not to offer harm. So few mean it.”
Aeric stared as she drew near the edge of the battlements. Silver light surrounded her in a soft glow, and stars rested on shadow
y hair that flowed to her knees. He knew her face. He had seen it formed from starlight a night ago, when the shadowfiend had sprung upon him only to be vanquished by a silver spark. She was as beautiful and sad as her ghostly image had been, her skin pale and her mouth solemn. Light glinted in the depths of her storm-gray eyes.
“I want you,” he said stupidly, then cursed his tongue. “I mean, there are shadowfiends overrunning the lands below, and I want you to—”
“You want me to destroy the monsters, for you believe I set them upon the lands,” she said, her voice heavy with sadness. “I did not.” She turned and vanished into the shadows.
“I know!” Aeric shouted, willing his voice to pierce through the thick stone walls of the tower.
She did not reply. Aeric stood before the locked door, pondering what way best to climb the wall and gain another chance to speak with her, when at once the locks scraped and the great hinges creaked. Layla appeared in the doorway.
“You do not believe the shadowfiends are my handiwork?” she asked in amazement. “Then why have you come?”
Aeric had not pondered his answer, yet it came swiftly and with certainty. “I have seen you destroy a shadowfiend. Come with me to hunt Coroc, king of the shadows, and together we will vanquish him and his kind from the lands.”
His words struck hope in Layla’s heart, for her tower was cold and lonely, and though she sent forth the light of the moon and stars against the fiends each night, her power could not reach the great cities of the lands. Yet she hesitated. “You ask me to leave this tower and range along the people of the lands below?”
“To help save them, yes.”
Many fears whispered in Layla’s heart. “I cannot. They despise me, and they will never accept help from my hand.”
And she shut the doors between them, leaving Aeric alone. Night faded and the sun’s light returned. Aeric paced around the tower, calling to Layla, but she did not answer.
From the dark windows of her tower, she watched him. He was as beautiful as the sunrise, tall and strong with hair that shone gold and eyes warm with sunlight. He took the sun from the folds of his cloak and tossed it as if it were a ball. She gazed in wonder, for sunlight had always been but a faint gleam around her tower and she had never known its true light or warmth. Yet even as she longed to go to him, the walls of her own tower held her back, for she knew too much of the lands below.
When at last the sun grew dim, Aeric returned it to its hiding place within his robes, then stood before the tower door again and called to her. And she went down to him.
“Come with me to the lands below,” he pleaded again. “Fight the shadowfiends with me, and I will show you the wonder of the world beyond this tower.” And he took from his robes a sunflower, an undying blossom from the eastern hills, more rare and brilliant than a hundred diamonds, and he placed it in her hands.
But though his gift was beautiful and stirred to life the lost longings of her heart, she only sighed and shook her head. “You do not understand. You are kind and joyful, and all who look upon you love you. I walked the lands long ago, but it was not the same for me. I will be of no use to you, for they will loathe me as one of the shadowfiends, and if you are in my company that disfavor might fall upon you too. Still, I will not leave you without aid.”
She took from her hair one of the stars that glimmered from the shadowy strands, and she placed it in his outstretched palm. “This will defend you when your own light dims, and the fiends cannot stand before it.” And she returned to the tower and shut the door.
Aeric turned from the doors and faced the falling night. At the top of Layla’s tower, the moon came to life and cast its rays across the high peaks. Aeric gazed across the crags and saw the shadows shifting, the fiends stirring to life in their endless pursuit of light. He could find no peace in the shelter of Layla’s walls while the fiends were free to descend on the lands. Holding the star in his hand, he set forth into the night.
All night he fought the monsters, seeking them out with the aid of Layla’s light. Other stars floated over the peaks and plateaus, and Aeric saw them in the distance as they sought out the fiends and flashed to destroy them. The moon shone brightly upon him and the star in his hand blazed in the presence of the fiends and pierced through them, but each fight left the star’s light dimmer and Aeric’s body and soul more weary. At last the star turned to dust and vanished, its power worn out from the fight. When the sun came to life once more, Aeric turned his heavy steps to Layla’s tower.
“Please come and fight by my side,” he called.
She did not answer. Yet he heard the locks slip from the great gates, and they swung open in silent invitation. Aeric rose and went into the courtyard beyond.
The light was dim as if in dusk, and the air was warm and peaceful. A fountain danced in the center of the courtyard, surrounded on all sides with flowering jasmine vines and trees with drooping boughs laden with every kind of fruit. The flowers shone like stars and silver light flowed through each leaf and branch. The water from the fountain was cool and sweet, and it washed away Aeric’s hurts and weariness as he drank. There he sought rest, yet he could not sleep, for his mind was on Layla and the fiends, and the stillness of the courtyard stirred his restlessness. Over and over he called to her, but she did not answer.
When at last the day faded and the moon began to shine out from the higher again, he gathered his cloak and sword and prepared to leave. As he turned, he saw her standing in the doorway, clad in night-black robes with the stars shining brightly around her.
“Now you come?” he asked in frustration. “Do you never wish for company in this lonely tower?”
“It does not matter. No one wishes for the company of one who bears only sorrow in her soul. Let me keep to myself; it is better for everyone.”
“Perhaps it would do you good to have a companion other than sorrow,” he said. “I ask you again to come with me and fight the fiends. I will not despise your company.” He drew from his cloak a small flask of wine made from the red of the dawn itself, each drop more precious than blood and brimming with life and happiness. “Come with me to the lands below, and I will show you the joys of the world.”
“The world showed me long ago that I can have no joy while I walk its paths,” she said. Yet she took the flask and held it like a great treasure. Then she took from her hair two bright stars and handed them to Aeric. “May these light your path, and may you have joy though I cannot.”
Aeric’s heart was heavy as he strode from her courtyard and faced the growing night. Again he walked and fought and vanquished. But he could take no delight in it, for he was alone, and Layla was alone, and all the world was cold and empty.
When the sun’s rays burst forth again and the fiends retreated in their wake, Aeric turned his steps to Layla’s tower, determined to make one last appeal. Again the doors opened and her courtyard welcomed him with peace and refreshment, but he was not content and passed the morning walking circles around the fountain and the trees. If she believed he did not desire her company, he would pester her until he changed her mind, or until she tired of him and sent him away.
He sang every song he could remember, until the starry eaves of the tower shook off their long silence and resonated with his voice. He told tales to the empty courtyard, each wilder than the last. A few times Aeric thought he heard laughter from the tower windows. Then he caught glimpses of her as she stood among the battlements and peered down at him.
At last, as he sang the refrain of the oldest and merriest song he knew, Layla sang back, and their voices twined through the courtyard. She came down to him then. When he spoke she answered, and when she was silent he waited, and when he sang her face lit with a smile as bright as the stars in her hair. The waters of the fountain chattered along with them and the leaves of the trees swayed in a soft wind, and all was at peace within the courtyard.
At last the sun’s light began to wane, and Aeric stood to leave.
“Please
stay,” Layla said, for she dreaded the silence and emptiness that would fall on the tower when he left. “At least for tonight. The paths are too perilous, and my light cannot protect you from every terror the night will bring.”
“It could if you walked with me,” he said, pleading in his words. “I will hunt the fiends and help those in the lands below, whether you will fight at my side or not.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes and streaked down her face in streams of silver. “You do not understand what you ask of me.”
Layla turned her back to him and dropped the cloak she wore. Her gown, gossamer as the night mist, left no covering over her arms and back, and Aeric beheld the scars that ran in jagged paths over her skin.
“These are the scars given to me by those who once claimed to be my friends,” she said, her voice shaking with tears. “I gave them the darkness of night, that they might find peace and rest while the moon and stars kept watch. It was the only gift I could give them. But Coroc whispered lies in their minds, so that the people came to fear my gift and blame me for the terrors of the fiends. They hunted me like a wild creature and drove me from the lands, until I came, bleeding and near death, to this place where none followed. I would be a hindrance to you, for those in the lands only seek my death.”
“They will not harm you while you are with me,” he said. “For they love me, and they will love those who are in my company.”
“How deep does their love run, if they do not hunt the fiends alongside you themselves?” she asked. Aeric gave no answer, but her words whispered quiet dread to him.
Layla shrouded herself in her cloak once more, tears still spilling from her eyes as she turned toward the stairway that led to the high tower.
“I will only ask you once more, and then I will leave you in the peace of your fortress. Please come with me.” Aeric reached within his cloak, but he had no more gifts to give her except his own light. So he unwound a ray of the sun and held it out to her. “I can make no promises for those in the lands,” he said, “but I will not leave you, even if they scorn you.”
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