Shadow Touched (Editing)

31. GREY

While the Magic of Light—that which follows the laws of the land and the natural world—abounds throughout the Six Realms, there remain magic users who dwell in darkness, wielding magics to cause harm and destruction.

None who follow the left-hand path are more feared than the Essentia Comendentis, or Essence Eater.

Though little is known of her past—where did she come from? How did she attain such power? Who bestowed upon her the knowledge of the Rights of Maleficium?—She alone is known to hold the secrets to the deepest, darkest recesses of magics within the Six Realms. It is believed she wields the purest form of the allure available on earth. The last vestiges of Gods magic left behind when the Age of Gods ended.

Those who wish to control, to dominate by any means necessary, seek her help. With it, they delve deeper into the darkest of arts. Demonology, Curse Magic, Blood Magic, Black Shamanism and, worst of all, Necromancy—are only a few of her specialties. 'Tis a man of deepest desperation who seeks the Essence Eater, for her payment is one of unspeakable pain—a pound of soul. The price, once extracted, can never be regained. Those with a knowledge of soul magic know that to lose even the smallest piece of it leaves the giver off kilter—incomplete, never to be whole again. It weighs down the soul that remains. Weakens the heart with sadness, resulting in a life of despair. A life void of even the simplest joy.

It is a fate worse than death.

— Facts of the Left-Hand Path by Cartwright Purth

~*~

Despite my exhaustion and the cold ache in my bones, my skin grows warmer at Naima's proximity. I turn my head to steal a kiss, only to catch her looking at me. Worry and sorrow are once again etched across her face. The delicious warmth of desire disappears.

"Are you scared?" She asks. "I know I said sunshine and roses, but—"

"I get it."

I take her hand, gently kissing the back of it before placing it on my chest. She uses her slender fingers to draw circles along it.

"I just—how did it get this bad Grey?"

"Ah, that is the question, isn't it?" A dry laugh escapes my lips.

"You know, at first, I had no clue what was happening. For months, I was just moody. I chalked it up to general unhappiness. I had been writing you for years with no response. My father was pressuring me to take on more responsibility. And I can't lie; I was trying hard to be what my father wanted me to be. I figured the stress of everything, my despair over you, was just starting to take a toll. Of course, the moodiness was worse than I thought. There was—is—a cruelty...a coldness to my words.

"My actions, my ideas, they've become calculated. At times, almost diabolical. My father, the Lords, that prat Welland, they loved it. They praised me. My decisiveness in dealing with the uprisings across the country brought more praise. Pride like I'd never seen before shone on my father's face with each new decision I made.

"It made me feel good. Like, maybe there was something positive that could come from all my loneliness—from pinning for you. I—I'm sorry, Nai; I'm not trying to make you feel bad."

I stop, casting a quick glance at her. She gives me a soft smile. It's given me the courage to continue.

"So, I embraced this new me. Sure, I was dealing with a constant, never-ending headache, but the change in my demeanour was garnering me respect. People were listening when I was in the room, not out of duty but because they were interested. Intrigued. It was great until the nightmares started. It was like—it was just like the last time. Only you weren't here and Finch, Finch was so busy with his new duties, and I—I was scared."