A Myth to the Night

by Cora Choi

  Chapter 13: The Legend of the Crane and the Shrike

  I hadn’t been there in years, but, like the old abbey, the Forgotten Cemetery had stayed just the way I remembered. Thanks to the full moon, a silver sheen reflected off the crumbling grave markers and chipped crosses, giving the unkempt graveyard a polished tinge. The remnants of the walls of the tiny cloister that enclosed it had withered away to stumps and blended in with dead tree trunks that stood near them. The decaying frame where the main door had once stood was still intact, except now it was covered with ivy.

  I walked to the edge of the graveyard, where the shades of the night were darker than in other areas. A large, unmarked stone that was the size of my head sat staunchly before me. The brown-gray sandstone with jagged edges looked as though the caprice of the winds had haphazardly rolled it there, but they hadn’t. I had put it there. After I died and the massacre was over, I saw that the Order of the Shrike threw all the bodies into one mass grave. They covered it but didn’t acknowledge the spot as sacred ground. Abbot Pellanor and dozens of other monks were buried there. My body was in there, too. I didn’t want to draw attention to the area, but I didn’t want those who had died in the massacre to be forgotten. I found the most inconspicuous grave marker possible—a simple rock—and placed it there. Despite raging storms and natural erosion, the rock had never moved.

  From where I stood, I saw that Drev and three dozen or so phantoms had gathered near the center of the graveyard. Still sulking from my brawl with him earlier, I thought of just spying on them from the shadows. But I heard the terms “Slayer” and “Shadow of Fear” being thrown around, and I didn’t want to be left out of the conversation. I edged closer, still staying out of sight.

  “So, the most important thing to know about being the Slayer of the Shadow of Fear is that you carry on the pride of the fighting human spirit of recent millennia and even further,” spoke a giant crab, claw waving toward the sky. “All their eyes, along with their hopes and wishes, are on your shoulders.”

  I snorted. What did they know of the Slayer of the Shadow of Fear except for the tidbits I had told them over the years? The old crustacean didn’t even know where to begin telling the story.

  “Karkinos, that’s the least important thing for the Slayer,” snapped a woman with a sheaf of wheat in her hand. “He first needs to know his mission. He needs to know who the Shadow of Fear is and how to defeat him when the time comes.”

  The crowd murmured in agreement, “Demeter is right.”

  Several phantoms turned their heads to where I was standing in the shadows at the edge of the cemetery. I crouched low to prevent them from seeing me. I didn’t want to partake in this ridiculous attempt to make a Slayer. If those fools didn’t know where to begin, that was their misfortune.

  “Let me tell him the story,” roared a lion walking toward Drev with his head held high. I watched Leo twitch his tail, size up the audience, and then clear his throat. He had the velvety voice of a skilled orator.

  “A long, long, time ago when all the animals were equal to one another, even original man, there was a strange creature called the Shadow of Fear. It lingered in the far corner of the world . . .”

  “And, dear me, did it guard a great treasure!” erupted a tiny man with a red hat. He was no more than two feet tall and knocked a hammer back and forth in his hand as he talked. When Leo approached him, he began hopping from one foot to another as the lion raised his paw, ready to club him.

  “It was the treasure they all wanted!” the little man continued as he taunted Leo. “No one could overtake the Shadow of Fear! Not bears, nor wolves, nor lions like this oaf here!”

  The impish creature screamed as Leo pounced on him. Thinking he had caught him, Leo looked underneath his claws and saw nothing. Then a small, pointy red hat danced a few yards away, chanting, “No one could overtake the Shadow of Fear, no one at all!”

  “Why did they want to overtake it?” asked Drev.

  A centaur stepped forward to answer, “Because, as the leprechaun said, it guarded a great treasure—the Light of Knowledge. And whoever had the Light of Knowledge would have the power to rule over all the other animals.”

  “And rule all nature,” added a blindfolded woman holding gold balancing scales in her hand. “Original man was already predestined to obtain the Light of Knowledge, but he had to destroy the Shadow of Fear first. He didn’t know what to do, and upon arriving near the cave where the Shadow of Fear stood guard, protecting the Light of Knowledge, he ran into two birds.”

  “The crane and the shrike,” said two boys, who were identical twins. One had the medallion of the sun hanging on a thin string of leather around his neck; the other had the medallion of the moon.

  “Tell him the rest of the story, Kuat and Iae—Leo is occupied,” said Demeter. I looked and indeed saw Leo furiously chasing the leprechaun through the crowd.

  Kuat spoke, the medallion of the sun heaving up and down as he took in deep breaths to make sure his voice carried into the crowd.

  “The shrike told original man that many animals had died before him and he, too, without the strength of the bear, the fangs of the wolf, or the claws of the lion, would perish to the Shadow of Fear. The shrike told original man that he would help him. As shrikes kill their prey by dropping them onto sharp branches and impaling them until all their blood leaks out, so, too, would he drop his prey near the branch that hung over the edge of the cave. As the dying animal screamed and writhed, the distraction would be enough for original man to go past the Shadow of Fear and take the Light of Knowledge without confronting it.”

  “The crane stepped in, however,” began the other twin. “He warned original man that if he listened to the shrike, even if he obtained the Light of Knowledge, he would be doomed to have the Shadow of Fear chase him until the end of time and, in essence, would never be free—but always running from the Shadow of Fear. He told original man that he, as he was, could overcome the Shadow. And that he had to overcome it. Or else, even when he had the Light of Knowledge, he would never be free.

  “Original man nodded to the crane and promised to follow his advice, but as he approached the cave—”

  Kuat cut in, “The shrike dropped a gangly lizard on the point of a sharp branch hovering over the mouth of the cave. Its cries brought out the Shadow of Fear—”

  “The crane cried out a warning!” said Iae. “It told original man to strike the Shadow of Fear now, when it was distracted by the dying lizard, and then take the Light of Knowledge—”

  “But the shrike said, ‘This is your only chance to get the Light of Knowledge. Steal it now!’”

  The two brothers were then suddenly silent, and not a single breath could be heard from the crowd, as all were listening intently. Finally, Drev spoke.

  “Original man didn’t listen to the crane. He listened to the shrike and stole the Light of Knowledge. That’s why original man is always afraid, even when he’s alone and there’s no sign of danger.”

  “Drev knew the ending!” shouted the Monkey King, holding down his crown as he jumped. I moved out of the shadows to hear more. Despite my pride still being sore and my cheekbone smarting, I took a step forward toward the crowd, completely flummoxed that Drev knew the story.

  “And the Slayer’s job is to destroy the Shadow of Fear?” asked Drev. “To release mankind from being controlled by fear?”

  The phantoms around him nodded, beaming.

  “Drev was made for the job,” declared Karkinos.

  “I know the tale only because my nanny told it to me when I was little,” said Drev. “But she never called the monster in the cave the Shadow of Fear, and she didn’t mention that the two birds were specifically the shrike and the crane. I guess the Order of the Shrike is named after the shrike in this story, and the Order of the Crane after the crane?”

  “The orders didn’t take only the birds’ names.” I stepped in front of the crowd. “The orders represent the essence of the role that ea
ch bird played in the story.”

  Drev glowered at me for several frigid seconds before responding. He hadn’t forgotten about our brawl earlier.

  “So what does the Order of the Crane represent?” he asked.

  “Like the crane in the story, they want to protect people and encourage them to fight their fears, so people can live freely.”

  “And the Order of the Shrike?”

  “They let fear perpetuate itself and see it as a tool to control and manipulate the masses.”

  He looked away and stared at the ground for a few moments, then said, “So how can someone slay the Shadow of Fear?”

  “Hugh studied that for years. He can tell you,” said the blindfolded lady, her scales yo-yoing as she moved closer to me.

  “I didn’t write an instruction manual,” I said sourly. “I wrote down a centuries-old tale—a prophecy—that there would one day be a young man who came from a long lineage of courage, intelligence, and honor. His noble blood would lead him into battle, and not only would he not shy away from the Shadow of Fear, but he would also directly challenge it. When it came time to slay the Shadow of Fear once and for all, only he would know the secret of how to conquer it.”

  “That’s vague,” said someone from the crowd. The others grumbled in agreement. “How’s that supposed to help us?”

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  “At least it confirms that I’m not qualified,” said Drev, turning away from everyone and taking a step.

  “Eh! Where you going?” asked the headless knight, blocking him.

  “You can’t leave!” half a dozen other voices shouted.

  “Look,” snorted Drev, as he leaned to one leg, exasperated. “I’m in no way noble or honorable or any of that stuff. I have no lineage, or whatever you just said. I’m just a poor kid who got lucky and came to this school. I’m a nobody. I’m not fit to be the Slayer.”

  The phantoms were silent. Drev turned his back to them once again and began to leave.

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Drev,” called out Siren, her alluring singsong tone echoing in the night. “Not many students would’ve been as brave as you to stay with us tonight and listen to our stories.”

  Drev stopped, but he didn’t turn around.

  Siren continued, “You may say you’re not the Slayer, but I think you’re courageous, sincere—”

  “And hotheaded,” I added.

  “Shhh!” hissed the other phantoms, glaring at me.

  “If you knew about me and my family, you wouldn’t be saying all these nice things,” Drev said, turning to Siren. “You’d probably be embarrassed to have met me.”

  “I know that’s not true, and I speak for all of us here,” said Siren. “Tell us your story, and you’ll see for yourself.”

  “My life story’s a shit show,” he growled, looking at the ground.

  “No one’s story is,” coaxed Karkinos. The human-size crab scuttled sideways to Drev. He patted Drev’s shoulder with his pincer. “C’mon now, we’re good listeners. You can trust us.”

  All the creatures began eyeing Drev and nodding with encouragement. A few “don’t worries” and “go ons” were uttered. Drev’s eyes flitted from one face to another in the crowd and stopped when they met mine. I nodded, as eager as the rest to hear his tale.

  Drev kicked his toe into a groove where the dirt was uneven. He took a couple deep breaths before lifting his head. I was certain he was going to tell these clowns, including me, to go to hell, but, to my surprise, he didn’t. He began talking.