Shadowborne

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Shadowborne Page 3

by Matthew Callahan


  “Careful, Will,” Jervin said. “Don’t overdo it.”

  Will had tears in his eyes. For a moment it felt as though his insides had been ripped apart from within, his body threatening to retch their shredded remains onto the floor.

  Jervin walked over and rubbed the young boy’s back. “I should have warned you. I’m sorry. You’re untrained and you don’t know your limitations yet. Don’t overextend.”

  Recovering, Will blinked back tears and nodded. Madigan was shaking his head, staring at their grandfather with his brow furrowed.

  “How did you keep this from us? How do you know about this stuff?” His eyes narrowed. “You’re from there, aren’t you? Aeril?”

  Jervin nodded slowly.

  “It’s real then? How did you get here? I mean, what did you even do when you first got here?”

  “I learned how to fit in,” Jervin responded, ignoring the first two questions. “There was a world to explore and ships in which to do it. I travelled for years before I met your grandmother and allowed myself an attempt at normal life.” He gave a quick laugh and shook his head. “She always knew I was older, she just could never put an exact difference to it. After she died giving birth to your mother, I worked on learning to be a father. Considering my background, I’d say I did better with your mom than I expected.”

  “And Valmont, he was real?” Will asked. “Did you know him?”

  “Unfortunately, I did,” Jervin said. His eyes were downcast. “No one knew what he would become, how could we have? Still, I can’t help but feel like I should have seen it coming earlier and found a way to stop him before it was too late.”

  “But he died, right?” Mad said. “I mean, he has to be dead by now.”

  Jervin shook his head. “Vengeance and madness consumed him in the end. Whether he managed to survive or not, no one really knows. Most of Aeril believed him dead by the time I left. There were still those who were hunting him, though.”

  Madigan sat back down on the couch and leaned forward. “So, what then?”

  Will glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

  Madigan gestured to Will as he addressed his grandfather. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Grandda, Will being some shadow dude is really cool and all, but what’s the point?”

  Will began to protest but Jervin raised a hand to quiet him. “It’s a valid question, Will, it’s okay.” Jervin stood and moved his way to the fire and stoked the coals. “The point is that you both deserve the truth, simple as that.”

  Madigan rolled his eyes. “Things are never that simple with you, Grandda.”

  Jervin chuckled. “True, true,” he said. “But now that you know the truth, perhaps we—”

  “But what about Valmont?” Mad interrupted.

  “And Aeril!” Will said, nearly overlapping his brother. “And more of the Shadowborne!”

  “Boys, just give me a moment to—”

  “It sounds fantastic,” Mad said. “Like, it’s actually fantastic. It doesn’t sound real.”

  “But it really is, isn’t it?” Will chimed in.

  “Boys, calm down for one second,” Jervin said, a small smile tugging at his cheek. After a moment, the brothers quieted, though they continued to fidget. “Allow me to ask one question: What would you think about going to Aeril?”

  Will’s face lit up. Going to Aeril? He glanced over at Madigan and saw his brother’s eyes widen before he leaned back onto the couch. Except he wasn’t relaxed, Will could tell. He could see the ready tension in Mad’s neck, the way he sat with his legs under him, ready to spring. Madigan was nervous, despite his efforts to hide it. Why would Madigan be so nervous?

  Because everything just changed.

  It occurred to Will that he may be taking everything a little too well. Years of his overactive imagination encouraging him to believe in a world of the impossible made the impossible seem, well, possible. Magic was real, it was a part of him. It was like waking from a vivid dream and realizing that the best parts were all true. For his brother, though, it was just another day. It was supposed to be normal. He’s terrified, Will realized.

  “I think,” Will said, his voice cautious, “I think we have a lot of questions.”

  “I would imagine so,” Jervin said. “What would you—”

  “When do we leave?” Madigan interrupted, catching both Will and Jervin off guard. Will stared at his brother, mouth agape.

  “It would take some time,” Jervin said. “Quite a bit, actually.”

  “But you’ve been planning for this, right?” Madigan said, leveling his gaze at Jervin. “That’s why you homeschooled us, pushed us constantly.” Madigan waved his hand, gesturing at the house. “That’s why all of this has always felt so temporary.”

  The hint of a smile appeared at the corner of Jervin’s mouth again. “Yes,” he said finally, “although this is not exactly how I’d planned on broaching the subject.”

  “But why not tell us sooner?” Will burst out. “Why did you wait?”

  Jervin’s eyebrows narrowed. “Because I’m human. I’ve been uncertain if it really is for the best. The Aeril I left was suffering, it was in pain. I don’t know what the situation there is anymore, but here at least, here I know.

  “But the truth is, I think you two both belong in Aeril, Will’s ability notwithstanding. This realm has changed more than I ever imagined it would. The magic that once thrived here, it’s as if it has died, only hints of it remain. There’s less in this world than there once was.”

  “How so?” Will asked, interrupting.

  Jervin winked at the boy. “Traces linger. You yourself are rather subject to forgetfulness where doorways are concerned.” He grinned as he saw Will’s jaw drop. “Regardless, that’s a story for another time. The truth is, I want you both to live a long, happy life in a place where you can do some good. And while I know you could both do amazing things here, I believe in my heart that you could do even more in Aeril.”

  Will and Madigan were both quiet. Their grandfather turned his head to the brightening sky and sighed. “I think,” he finally said, “that I’ll go put the kettle on. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  3

  The Adventure Begins

  From that day onward, the games of their childhood became a regimen in reality for Will and Madigan. For seven years, the family prepared. Seven years of rigorous training and the basics of Aerillian history. Seven years of pushing themselves to learn faster, train harder, respond quicker. Jervin continued his teaching of combat and strategy, logic and philosophy, rhetoric and anthropology—yet everything became a fantastical case study into the imaginative.

  For Will, his newfound ability filled him with excitement and disbelief and fear. He was too young to have any sense of control over it, only able to harness its power under the direct instruction of his grandfather, but the older man did what he could to guide him. As the years passed, Will never quite mastered the ability to draw on his power consciously, but he did learn how to keep it hidden under any circumstance. The physical and mental strain of it all stopped Will’s nighttime adventures and instead replaced them with strange dreams.

  They were dark and twisted and he would often wake up freezing, his body drenched in sweat and his mouth dried and cracked. Often, he would see the deaths of his family. Sometimes, he would lose control of his Shade, seeing it whip and surge and injure the people closest to him. Sometimes the Shade was gone, and he stood bound and helpless to save them as they died. In the end, though, the dreams always ended with his own death as flames consumed his body, every sensation more vivid than reality. Jervin would wake him from his screams, voice calm and strong, and remind the boy to breathe.

  On the day the family’s life changed forever, Jervin found Will in exactly that way.

  * * *

  “Will,” Jervin said. His voice was strong and secure as he placed a hand upon Will’s shoulder to steady him. “Wake up and breathe, kiddo.”

  Will’s eyes shot ope
n. His breath came fast and heavy and he shied away from the morning sunlight that flooded the room. Jervin removed his hand while Will sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes.

  “Sorry, Grandda,” the young man said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m okay.”

  His grandfather looked worn and tired but smiled at Will nonetheless. “Another dream?”

  “Yeah, the same one as before.” Will’s parched throat made his voice crack as he spoke. His muscles were aching and his head was pounding. He rolled over and looked at the clock, seeing that it was barely past 6:00 a.m. Muttering, Will kicked his legs over the edge of the bed and again ran his hands through his eternally unkempt hair. Despite the early hour, he was awake and sleep would not return to him.

  “Sorry to wake you, Grandda. I’m fine. Go ahead and go back to bed.”

  Jervin chuckled and shook his head. “Kid, I was up way before you started thrashing about.”

  “Yeah, I’d say it’s your brother you should be more concerned with,” came a cocky voice from the doorway. Will groaned and looked past Jervin to where his big brother stood.

  For Madigan had indeed grown big, becoming a solid wall of muscle over the past few years. Strong and deceptively quick, all six-foot-three of him was fast and flexible as a cat. The years spent in books and libraries had crafted a clever, if impatient, mind to match.

  And though the two boys were less than three years apart, where Madigan had grown muscular, Will had remained lean and wiry. It was good for moving silently, especially when he managed to control his Shade. But the majority of the time, he struggled to keep up with his brother’s power. He had long since outgrown letting it get to him. Being quick was enough for him and he still knew how to give his brother a run for his money, Shade or no Shade.

  Madigan was leaning against the doorframe, barefoot and dressed only in faded sweatpants that had once been black. Flipping the switch for the light, he walked casually into the room. After three strides he quickened his pace and leapt at Will.

  Jervin stepped out of the way and, before Will could rise and defend himself, Madigan crashed into him. Falling backward onto the bed, the two boys grappled and struggled. Will, sensing a weakness in Madigan’s defenses, rolled hard and threw himself at the bigger brother. It was only after he had committed that he realized it had been a feint. Instead of overpowering his brother, the younger man crashed onto the floorboards. Leaping from the bed, Madigan was on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

  “Someone’s a bit slow this morning,” Madigan said as he pushed himself to his feet. “Did you sneak out for nips of Grandda’s cooking sherry again, Will?”

  Will pushed himself to his knees, head throbbing substantially more than it had been moments before. Sighing, he reached for a nearby t-shirt while trying to come up with a witty comeback for his brother.

  “Downstairs,” Jervin said. “Breakfast should be finished in about fifteen minutes.”

  Will glanced up. “Breakfast this early?”

  Jervin smiled and nodded. “Trust me, you two will be needing it today.” Turning, he disappeared from sight down to the lower level of the house.

  “Fifteen minutes?” Madigan said. “Plenty of time for you to come up with something clever.” Madigan grinned and tossed a pillow at his brother’s head, then made to follow their grandfather out the door. “Come on, Will, you’re even slower than usual this morning.”

  As Madigan walked away, Will pivoted and, bracing himself on an arm, kicked out. He caught his brother’s trailing leg, snapping it out from under him mid-stride. Eyes widening, Madigan let out a quick “Oh!” before stumbling toward the stairs. Will leapt to his feet and darted forward, grabbing hold of the doorframe and catching his brother with his free hand as Mad flailed, nearly tumbling down the stairs.

  “I’m sorry,” Will said. “You were saying something about being slow?”

  Mad grinned and gave Will a playful punch in the arm. “I just enjoy keeping you off balance.”

  Breakfast was a hearty scramble of vegetables and spiced sausage tossed with fresh herbs and bacon on the side. Will hadn’t even finished his first serving by the time Madigan was already helping himself to a third. Will knew that if he didn’t finish it quickly then his brother would swoop in and do it for him, so he wolfed down the last few bites of veggies and grabbed the last three strips of bacon. Madigan pretended to pout then gave a quick grin and took one of the pieces of bacon from Will’s plate. Will didn’t protest. Madigan’s appetite was a force to be reckoned with and it was never good to stand in its way.

  Will stood and cleared the table of the plates while Madigan went and refilled the water before moving it to the fridge. He opened the door and scoffed before giving Will a puzzled look. “So, either I raided the kitchen in my sleep or we desperately need to go grocery shopping.”

  Will raised his eyes from where he had begun rinsing the dishes and glanced inside the fridge. Where usually it was filled to bursting with meats and vegetables and an assortment of quick snacks that would easily maintain two active young men and their grandfather, today it stood empty.

  “Maybe this is one of Grandda’s tasks for the day,” Will said. “A remarkably lame scavenger hunt to find lunch.”

  Madigan laughed and closed the fridge. “Well, he did say to eat up but somehow I doubt that’s it. I’m sure we’ll just end up hitting the store after training. He probably wants to exhaust us and then make us carry groceries just for the hell of it.”

  Will grinned and the two of them made their way outside to the yard. The sun was shining, somehow breaking through the usual morning cloud cover, but there was a chill in the air. Summer had finally come to a close and the first days of autumn were upon them. Will always felt like the changing of seasons in Oregon was something Mother Nature took very seriously; he could taste the change in the air almost immediately.

  The morning was peaceful and pristine with a light dew on the grass. A soft breeze rustled through leaves that were beginning to dry and crackle. The air tasted clear and fresh, like newly fallen rain. Though they were not far from the city and freeways, the sounds of them were nearly inaudible, drowned out by the croak of frogs from the nearby stream and the wind in the air. Despite his headache, Will smiled at the beauty of the morning.

  The boys crossed the lawn and joined Jervin who was stretching on the dry, compacted ground beneath their large cedar tree. Wordlessly, they began to stretch as well, gradually easing out the kinks of sleep and warming up their muscles. Will’s breathing slowed and matched the rhythm of his grandfather’s. With eyes closed, the three of them remained silent, calming their minds and letting their awareness of the surrounding world grow.

  Fifteen minutes passed before Will detected the change in his grandfather’s breathing. He opened his eyes as Jervin slowly rose and exhaled deeply. Will glanced over at Madigan, still in deep meditation to his left. He rose, then crouched and rubbed his knees to get the feeling back into them before stretching his right leg back into a deep lunge.

  Madigan stirred and opened his eyes, pausing a moment before rising. Grinning, he shifted forward onto his left foot and pivoted hard, spinning and kicking out his foot to sweep Will’s legs out from under him. At the last second, Will pushed into the air and leapt away from him, landing in a roll and rising to his feet with a smile.

  “A bit lighter on your feet now you’ve had some breakfast, eh?” Mad said. Will laughed and walked over to help him to his feet. The two looked over at Jervin who was smiling and watching them. He straightened and walked over, placing a hand on each of their shoulders and drawing them in.

  “It’s nice to see you both in good spirits. Hopefully, I’ll not have broken them too badly by the end of the day.”

  “Oh yeah?” Madigan said. “Have something special in mind?”

  Jervin smiled as he winked. “You could say that.”

  4

  Training's End

  Without warning, Jervin suddenly took off
at a full sprint. Their property was situated well away from the road amongst many trees. It bordered a nearby grass-covered levee, one which their grandfather often used in their runs, and Jervin headed in that direction. Madigan and Will followed, breathing rhythmically and keeping stride with their grandfather. Yet instead of stopping when he arrived at the grass, Jervin surged onward and upward with a speed they had not seen him exhibit before.

  Without hesitation, Mad raced after him, his surprise at the older man’s speed lending him the determination to match it. He lost speed though as he split his concentration, focusing on safely navigating the waist-high grass. Will moved ahead of him, maintaining his speed, seemingly fearless of ankle-turning rocks or the uneven ground. Mad began to fall behind.

  He tried to clear his mind and let his feet fly over the ground, his eyes watching Jervin disappear from sight as he crested the hill.

  “Come on!” Will shouted from ahead and Mad’s adrenaline kicked in. Seconds later he reached the crest of the hill and scanned the levee for his grandfather. He was down near the stream, running smoothly as if the marshy ground near the bank gave him no pause. Mad stared, unable to believe how much ground the man was covering without breaking pace.

  Will, too, had paused to watch their grandfather. Madigan grinned and shot past him and half running, half sliding, proceeded down the slope to reach the water’s bank. Will didn’t follow. Madigan heard him whipping past tree branches atop the ridge, angling himself as he watched their grandfather’s path. He cursed as he realized that Will had had the right idea. Crashing through the reeds, he threw caution to the wind in an effort to regain lost time.

 

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