《Fearshaper [Cultivation of Fear] [Eldritch] [Slow-burn] [Stats-lite]》


 Chapter 1: Nightmares of Ice

    Reserve system analysis commencing¡­


    Prison breach detected.


    Threat level: SIGNIFICANT


    Threat threshold reached.


    Directive to the Weaver¡­


    Authorise the immediate deployment of [Legendary] and [Mythic] guides from the receptacle.


    System message: Directive executed.


    Directive to main system¡­


    Unseal the [Archcity of Time].


    Upon reaching Threat Level: EXTREME ¨C unseal the [Archcity of xxxxxx].


    Error: Main system offline. Requests unsuccessful.


    Sending message to Elucidor¡­.


    Fearshapers. Insanity stirs.


    Descend, or perish.


    Error: Main system offline. Message unsuccessful.


    ---


    Shiver watched quietly from a rooftop as the carriage rolled down the cobbled streets of Brimstone, the Archcity of Flame.


    She noticed flickers in the shadows beneath her, a motley gang of muggers and thieves waiting to pounce on their prey. One of the shadows strode into the light, in the path of the oncoming carriage.


    She licked her popsicle in anticipation.


    "Ho there! Out of the way!"


    The driver, anxiously noticing that the man had no intention of moving, pulled on the reins of his horses calling them to an abrupt stop.


    "What is the meaning of this? You are interrupting the official business of House Flora!"


    The hooded interloper picked his nose nonchalantly, flicking a hardened ball of snot at the driver. Shiver hummed as she admired his nonchalance. She recognised him as Dag ¨C short for Dagger ¨C the local ringleader of the slum¡¯s finest.


    "I just so happen to be on official business too, my good man."


    The driver glanced apprehensively at the flickering shadows lining the street.


    "Who sent you?"


    Dag smiled and bowed.


    "My wallet of course. It¡¯s in dire need of some funds and you know how harsh a mistress it can be sometimes; I hope you¡¯ll forgive me."


    Shiver sniffed ¨C taking another lick of her popsicle.


    "Hmm¡­ I¡¯d give him a 4/10. He should talk less and stick to the nose-picking."


    The hooded man burst into action, drawing a sword from his overcoat. His accomplices around him closed in on the carriage from all sides. The driver however, having fully appreciated his predicament, relaxed, strangely calm.


    He tapped his cane twice, on the floor of the carriage.


    Two men burst forth from within, garbed in strange armour.


    Shiver¡¯s eyes widened, this was way above Dag¡¯s paygrade.


    Their armour looked like a living, writhing mass of dark brown vine and root that encircled their bodies. Each tendril was as thick as her arm. The armed guards extended their hands towards the oncoming muggers, and vines shot outwards from their armour in every direction, spearing them through multiple points in their torsos.


    The driver, seemingly prepared, whipped at his reins and sent the carriage straight into the hooded mugger.


    Shiver winced as she witnessed the trampling.


    "Oh come now, his line wasn¡¯t that bad."


    She sprung lithely into action, leaping for the building opposite her while keeping her eyes on the escaping carriage. As she caught the edge of the roof, her popsicle fell into the darkness below.


    "I¡¯m sorry Mr Popsicle, looks like I won¡¯t get to finish you this time."


    She stared forlornly into the darkness below.


    Anyone who happened to catch a glimpse of her expression might have assumed that she had lost a dear friend.


    Shiver would tell you that she had.


    Flipping dexterously onto the roof, her eyes trailed after the carriage and noticed a small shadow running across the rooftops in chase. It seemed like she wasn¡¯t the only one that had sniffed out a potential haul.


    In contrast to her own practiced, swift and silent steps, the figure awkwardly leapt over chimneys and fought to keep up with the carriage.


    Shiver adopted a pensive expression.


    "Hmm¡­ You don¡¯t look like a popsicle¡­ But I¡¯ll bite."


    Silently trailing the figure, Shiver noticed that the carriage had come to an abrupt stop close to the city¡¯s bustling night market as it rounded the corner.


    A hooded figure ¨C the second one that night ¨C exited the carriage, a bag clutched in his arms, out of sight from the pursuing thugs that had yet to catch up to the carriage.


    As he walked calmly towards the market, the carriage having resumed its furious passage through the streets.


    It¡¯s serving as a distraction. They don¡¯t have cause for worry ¨C Dag and his thugs don¡¯t pose a threat to them. Yet¡­ it looks like they aren¡¯t taking any chances.


    Her eyes glinted in the melding of golden and silver moonlight cast by Elucidor¡¯s twin moons ¨C Idriel and Valefor. It was a rare night that the Archcity was not enshrouded by a blizzard.


    The man hooked the bag to his belt, casting a furtive glance behind him. The lack of oncoming pursuers made him visibly relax, and he shifted his attention to the bustling night market he found himself in.


    Shiver chuckled softly.


    "Go get him, little firefly."


    As if obliging, the small shadow crouched on the rooftops with her leapt clumsily down into the streets below.


    Her fall revealed mousey brown hair tied into clumsy pigtails. She disappeared into the mass of people roiling about in the night market. Shiver smirked as she stretched lazily, giving up on the chase.


    "Not bad, not bad¡­ I wonder what they were carrying. Now where did Mr Popsicle fall¡­"


    ---


    Blaze anxiously clutched the bags she had pickpocketed as she made her way down another one of Brimstone¡¯s alleyways.


    She was drawing close to the orphanage and her cheeks were flushed with the rush of pulling off her first successful theft in a while. Not to mention, one of the bags she was holding was heavy, and clinked with the telltale sign of gold. She couldn¡¯t wait to examine the goods.


    She slowly opened the door, entering the orphanage. She sighed in relief as the door softly clanked shut behind her.


    She let out a little yelp and hopped, fist pumping in the air.


    I¡¯ve done it! My first successful solo heist-


    Her thoughts of glory were interrupted by a familiar chuckle.


    "I¡¯m impressed little firefly, you did well. But a good heist is nothing without some feedback."


    Feedback.


    If there were two things that a young orphan in Brimstone¡¯s lower circle feared, it was starvation, and feedback.


    Blaze froze, her head whipping towards the dark corner from which the voice had originated. Her breath caught as her eyes adjusted to the dark.


    She made out Shiver¡¯s characteristic cerulean irises, the colour of snow in a thunderstorm. Or at least, ¡°snow in a thunderstorm¡± was how the older orphan had dramatically phrased it.


    Blaze thought it was a stupid description. In her humble opinion, the colour of snow didn¡¯t change whether it was in a thunderstorm or not.


    "The first thing you did well ¨C you noticed those muggers and laid low. You escaped even my keen eyes, initially."


    Shiver¡¯s eyes sparkled in the meagre candlelight as she drew closer.


    "You also used your knowledge of the city roofs to your advantage to cut across to the carriage as it made its way around. Even waiting for your mark to grow more relaxed before you emerged, taking advantage of his complacency. Very impressive."


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    Blaze pouted as Shiver extended a hand to ruffle her messy and sweat-slicked hair.


    "Lastly, you weren¡¯t fixated on the carriage and identified the passenger with the real goods."


    Blaze shone with pride at the older orphan¡¯s glowing review.


    "Did you see how I pickpocketed him? He had no idea! He was staring at Madam Knifely¡¯s bosom when I made the pass, silly man. I got both of his bags!"


    Shiver nodded knowingly, despite having seen absolutely none of it. She¡¯d been too busy attempting to retrieve her crucial artefact.


    The popsicle.


    Exhibiting a dexterity far beyond that of poor Blaze, she snatched the bags out of her hands. The first was made of a rich purple velvet and clunked with the sound of gold and silver.


    The other was a small, nondescript brown bag. The one he had hooked to his belt, assuming it would have been more secure as he braved the bustle of the market. It had hardly any weight to it, and as Shiver peeled back the edges, she caught a familiar, welcome scent.


    "However, there were a couple of things that you failed to do. You didn¡¯t take care to notice whether there was anyone up on the roof with you. You also made a racket climbing down from that roof, you were lucky that Dag¡¯s bunch had been taken care of by those guards."


    Blaze¡¯s mood immediately dampened as her spoils were taken from her. The older orphans often exacted a tax when they caught the younger ones stealing. It was all for ¡°their own good¡±, after all. An orphan who couldn¡¯t steal wouldn¡¯t last very long on the streets.


    Constructive criticism, they called it, which usually followed the ¡°feedback¡±.


    Constructive for their wallets, maybe.


    Shiver was the closest thing to an older sister to Blaze. She was her older sister, even if not by blood. Which meant she was especially hard on her when she caught her.


    Shiver¡¯s mischievous smile gleamed in the candlelight.


    "See¡­ I¡¯m in a particularly poor mood tonight. You won¡¯t believe what happened."


    Blaze¡¯s shoulders shrunk further.


    "I dropped Mr Popsicle while I was trailing you¡­ and I couldn¡¯t find him anywhere! A true tragedy¡­"


    Shiver dropped the purple sack of gold coins, catching it deftly with her boot on the way down.


    She laid it down softly before its fall reverberated throughout the orphanage.


    Blaze¡¯s eyes widened.


    "Good thing he had some chocolate on him. Off you go now."


    She gave Blaze a wink as the little girl blinked, stunned at her good fortune.


    Then she broke out into a bright smile that did her moniker justice. Grabbing up the bag of gold protectively, the little urchin scuttled off to deposit it in her very secret spot.


    Shiver hadn¡¯t the slightest clue where she could have stashed it. It certainly wasn¡¯t lodged in the space between her bed¡¯s headboard and the wall¡­ that would be preposterous.


    Shiver chuckled.


    Then her smile abruptly flattened, as she heard a door creak. The matron of the orphanage had entered the room.


    "Mother."


    "Shiver, there¡¯s no need to greet me so¡­coldly."


    Shiver rolled her eyes.


    "You know, we have plenty of food here and a bed for you as well. I know what you do for the little ones."


    Mother Ventra, was a portly, short woman ¨C the very picture of a friendly grandmother. But her eyes revealed the characteristic glaze of a Tranquillity addict.


    "Now I know that you don¡¯t like Tranquillity, but a little now and then would go a long way. You don¡¯t have to force yourself to face your Fear lik-"


    Shiver¡¯s eyes burned as she glared at the orphanage¡¯s matron. She clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palm.


    "You¡¯re still giving Tranquillity to the children."


    "Only when they need it. Not everyone is as¡­ resilient in the face of their Fear as you are."


    "Do I need to remind you of the risks, oh mother?"


    "Still preferable to Insanity. Shiver-"


    Shiver chose not to dignify her excuses with a response, roughly brushing past her to exit the orphanage, back into the night.


    ---


    The cold. Brimstone, despite its name, was surrounded by it. The Archcity of Flames was bordered by mountains of towering ice ¨C the Verscallian Peaks, situated at the heart of the Winterlands.


    Home to the plentiful mines that House Brimstone derived their vast fortune from. The Archcity was built into a dormant volcano, reflecting the folly and arrogance of one of the great elven houses.


    Squat buildings of dark blue stone peppered the city¡¯s slums. They stood in stark contrast to the elegant and imposing structures that layered the city¡¯s upper circles.


    Aqueducts of lava flowed down from the upper circles to the slums, supplying warmth to the city¡¯s residents in their homes and along the city¡¯s streets.


    The lava flowed underneath cobbled pavement through the city¡¯s ingenious lavaways, feats of ancient engineering that the city¡¯s brightest minds had failed to replicate.


    Warmth was not denied even to the slums.


    Shiver walked along warm, cobbled stone, lava peaking out from the glass-like substance that sealed the stones together, separating the surface from the lava beneath. She loved the way the orange hues melded with the dark-blue tones of the city.


    Crouching out of the sewers through her secret exit from the city, Shiver was immediately met with a gust of cold wind, in stark contrast to the warmth of the city.


    In response, her heart raced with anxiety, her vision tinged red and she was overwhelmed with a sense of claustrophobia.


    She was revisited by a familiar terror.


    Her Fear.


    She yawned, lazily scratching an itch on her neck. Her Fear had always been more pronounced after enjoying the comfort of warmth.


    Trudging through the snow, Shiver¡¯s heartbeat began to escalate with each stride. In the peripheries of her vision, she saw flickers of movement.


    Denizens in the snow, waiting for her to trip.


    They came in various sizes and forms.


    Most took on the form of nondescript ice shades, with fingers like razors. More recently, they had begun to resemble people she knew, blood dripping from frozen orifices.


    Shiver looked their way, giving them a merry wave.


    As she approached the dark forest which bordered the city, she took her usual route through the trees, towards her grand residence ¨C a cave nestled in the nook of a mountain. As she nonchalantly walked into the dark, her Fear continued to torment her.


    She saw herself in the shadow of the cave before her. Frozen solid, eyes bloodshot, limbs lost from hypothermia.


    Her cadaver¡¯s face was stretched in a rictus of a grin.


    "You look pleased to see me. Are you Mr Popsicle¡¯s replacement?"


    Her frozen caricature made no response, its eyes moving to meet her own.


    She sighed, leaning against cave wall, guarded from the icy gale outside.


    She reached her hand into the small brown bag, fingers coming into contact with the chocolate.


    ¡®Only a single piece?¡¯


    She turned it over, her face pulling into a grimace as she realised that it was mouldy.


    An audible protest erupted from her stomach. Looking further into the small cave, she examined her meagre possessions.


    A thin sleeping roll, a bag of coins beside it ¨C magnitudes smaller than the pouch Blaze had stolen ¨C and some mouldy bread.


    A choice between mouldy bread, or a single piece of chocolate.


    With a sigh, she chose the bread, sequestering the chocolate back in her pouch. Who said beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers?


    "I¡¯ll save you for next time."


    Taking a bite of the damp loaf with a wince, Shiver closed her eyes and settled into her sleeping roll.


    In place of the respite of sleep, came familiar nightmares of ice.


    ---


    Silas walked through one of the dark corridors of Brimstone Manor, ignoring the bodies that hung from the ceiling. They were suspended by thin, almost imperceptible silver strings.


    It had been many years ago, when he had first visited the toyshop with his mother and sister as a young boy. His mother had doted on his sister, who had whined for a new doll. He remembered being jealous of how his parents spoiled Silvena.


    On that day of their visit, however, they both gained something from the toyshop.


    His sister, a beautiful doll, and him?


    With a Fear.


    The puppets turned their heads to trace his route through the corridor. They dripped in viscera, and his steps left bloody footprints that only his eyes would perceive.


    His family was strung up before the entrance to the Highlord¡¯s door. They stared at him with empty eyes.


    Silas paid them no heed. He knocked on the door.


    "Highlord Berevan, a moment if you please."


    "Silas. Enter."


    Silas entered the office of the Highlord of the Brimstone family in the middle of the night.


    The Highlord sat at a simple wooden desk, an elegant metal pen in hand. His humble desk stood in stark contrast to the beautifully furnished room around him.


    He was, for as long Silas had known him, a practical man. A humble and kind leader, devastatingly competent in matters of lordship and life alike.


    "The package from Flora was intercepted, my lord. Five dead and ten incapacitated in the theft."


    The Highlord rose with a heavy sigh.


    He was a burly man, sinewy muscle evident through the light shirt that he wore, exposing a hairy chest. Stroking his beard, he walked to the sole window in his office, which spanned almost the entirety of the wall.


    Silas, who had served the Brimstone family since had had been just teenager, knew the mansion like the back of his hand. He also knew that the window was supposed to provide an excellent view of the city circles beneath them.


    Instead, it depicted a beautiful garden, with a quaint cottage sitting in the middle, the entire scene bathed perpetually in gentle, golden sunlight.


    The work of Fearshapers from Somnolence, the Archcity of Dreams, at the request of Highlady Appella.


    A reminder of her home.


    The Highlord turned, to face him, his eyes tinged with a red glow. As he walked closer to Silas, he noticed the hazy patches that surrounded the Highlord, a result of the heat created by his aura.


    Accompanying the sight, was a wave of warmth that burned uncharacteristically hot, betraying the Highlord¡¯s barely suppressed frustration.


    Silas felt his sweat surface in response.


    "With so many dead, I¡¯m surprised the theft was successful."


    Silas nodded.


    "Flora¡¯s Knights of the Dreadwood dispatched the thugs, they were not the ones who stole the package. Lord Semille left the carriage in the hopes of losing them in the night market while they gave chase. He believes he was pickpocketed."


    "Lord Semille Flora¡­ the worst of her children to have been entrusted with this responsibility."


    "Also, the one least likely to question. The most, expendable."


    "Indeed, Silas. I¡¯m certain his rush was driven by an urge to visit the pleasure houses, rather than by his commitment to his mission. And the thief?"


    Silas frowned, ignoring the bloodstained wires of silver that crept into the peripheries of his vision.


    "It was the handywork of an orphan by the name of Blaze. Mother Ventra offered me the information in exchange for an agreement to¡­ subsidise her Tranquility purchases."


    The two exchanged a glance, their discomfort clear.


    Many of the orphans in the slums had particularly acute Fears ¨C which were, putting it lightly, difficult to manage. The matron was cooperative and ensured that her charges stayed away from crimes of a more egregious nature. It came at a cost.


    "She informed us that Blaze had stolen Semille¡¯s gold pouch, reporting on other spoils. It¡¯s quite possible that our package was stolen by someone else during his venture into the market."


    "Or, it could have been taken after the theft."


    Berevan nodded to him, and he felt the heat of the Highlord¡¯s aura intensify again.


    "I know that you think him an incompetent, hedonistic bastard, Silas. But do not underestimate Semille¡¯s cruelty. Should he find out that he was thwarted by an orphan of all things, we are certain to have a tragedy on our hands."


    Silas nodded his assent.


    "A discreet and thorough examination of the orphanage will be conducted. I will report to you with the findings shortly, Highlord. Lord Semille also ¡°kindly requests¡± an audience."


    Berevan let out a booming laugh, his expression softening for the first time that evening.


    "Something tells me those weren¡¯t the words he used, my friend."


    The burly man, stood his arm extended in a casual gesture.


    The space beside his arm started to fill with a haze of heat, which gradually intensified. In a flash of brilliant red and gold, the Highlord manifested his Phobia, a burnished greatsword of the same colour.


    Running through the middle of the blade was a perpetually rotating vortex of flame.


    Evidence of his bond with the eternal phoenix, his guide, and of his status as a Fearshaper.


    Highlord Berevan Brimstone¡¯s eyes burned.


    If what its sender had claimed was true, the package that he had expected to receive from the Dreadwood had the power to change everything.


    To right the sins of the past.


    "By all means, Silas, send our esteemed friend Lord Semille in."

 Chapter 2: The Mysterious Girl

    Shiver woke to a splitting headache.


    "Another wonderful night¡¯s rest."


    She hadn¡¯t had a good night¡¯s sleep free from her nightmares for as long as she could remember. Sleeping in a cave utterly unguarded from the cold winter winds certainly hadn¡¯t helped. Not that she had a choice. Well, any real choice.


    She opened her eyes with some effort, prying apart the frost that glued her eyelids together. A familiar orphan girl stood crouched above her body.


    Blaze, the little firefly. With a few differences.


    Firstly, she was frozen. Her eyes were devoid of the girl¡¯s characteristic playfulness and life.


    Secondly, bloody ice spikes had been drilled into her neck and torso.


    Thirdly, her head lulled at an impossible angle, her neck snapped and broken. Pale bone protruded from her neck with frozen rivulets of blood coating its surface. Shiver picked up the faint metallic scent of blood as she examined the scene above her prone body unblinkingly.


    She took a deep breath, immediately trying to stem the anger that threatened to overcome her.


    "You will not have power over me. Not even over my rage."


    Shiver rose, pushing the frozen Blaze to her side. As her body fell to the ground, it shattered into a multitude of frozen, confirming that it was a product of her Fear of ice.


    A hallucination. She blinked, and the shards disappeared.


    The coming of the day provided no reprieve from her nightmares.


    ---


    "Get your popsicles here! For the low price of three silver!"


    The elderly elf struggled to raise his voice over the hubbub in Brimstone¡¯s market.


    Elves from the other Archcities and smaller settlements all visited Brimstone for its ore and gems. It also boasted the world¡¯s most talented metalsmiths capable of crafting masterwork weapons and armour.


    Many a legendary weapon were made from the city¡¯s darksteel deposits, straight from Brimstone anvils.


    "Pov, you¡¯re looking well. Business must be great."


    Why would popsicles sell well in the middle of a raging snowstorm, you might ask?


    True to its name, Brimstone was warmed by the lava streams running through and underneath the city¡¯s cobble. It was also guarded from the cold with an invisible barrier that encircled the city.


    All in all, it led to a pretty toasty city.


    Shiver bought her popsicles for a different reason.


    The old elf broke out into a wide smile as he noticed Shiver walking towards him, grinning. He was dressed in dull purple tones, in flowing merchant¡¯s robes. Robes were the pride of a merchant. Yet Shiver noticed how Pov¡¯s were worn and frayed in places.


    He handed her one of his popsicles, free of charge as per usual. She flicked him a coin anyway.


    "And you¡¯re looking like you didn¡¯t sleep a wink girl! You sure you don¡¯t want to start and finish your days with something warm instead?"


    Shiver snorted, taking a gigantic lick of the popsicle as if to spite his statement.


    "Me? Give up your delicious pieces of terror? Never."


    Pov chuckled.


    "Never have I met someone so keen licking the very thing that torments them."


    Shiver gave Pov a sly look.


    "Are you sure about that old man? I feel sorry for Marta."


    Pov chuckled, reaching into his cart to chuck another popsicle at Shiver in swift retaliation. Deftly catching it, Shiver promptly stuck it in her mouth alongside her first one.


    As the sensation of cold doubled, Pov flashed before Shiver¡¯s eyes, turning into a morbid, frozen statue. The sight reminded her of Blaze¡¯s frozen visage that had welcomed her that same morning.


    She flinched.


    Pov took notice, squinting at her. Shiver turned away from the old elf¡¯s discerning gaze. Where other elven men closer her own age would have been distracted by her lean physique or enrapturing eyes - by Shiver¡¯s own description - Pov took notice of the bags under her eyelids, and the twitching in her cheeks.


    He spoke in a low tone, voice layered with concern.


    "Shiv, I meant what I said. You look like you¡¯re on the brink of Insanity, like you haven¡¯t caught a wink. When was the last time you got a good night¡¯s rest?"


    Biting back the desire to unleash an acerbic, witty quip, Shiver simply looked at her feet, avoiding his gaze.


    For an orphan, kindness was a commodity. Pov was one of the few people in this Feardamned city that gave it generously.


    Him and Marta.


    "Just how bad has your Fear been getting?"


    Shiver forced a smile which Pov instantly saw through. He frowned, and she relented with a sigh.


    "Anxiety, claustrophobia and panic attacks galore. I¡¯m still experiencing hallucinations and nightmares. The usual happy bunch."


    Pov waited, listening expectantly.


    "¡­the hallucinations have begun to take your forms, old man. I do have to admit, you look quite dash-"


    "Shiver! You need to stop this."


    He exclaimed, reaching his hand out expectantly, beckoning for her to return her popsicles.


    "Your hallucinations are out of control. Most take Tranquility long before they hallucinate at all. My popsicles are just making things worse. Inducing your Fear."


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    Shiver backed away, raising her arms protectively over the popsicles that hung from her mouth. In response, she redoubled her sucking. Pov sighed flatly.


    "I know that you want to conquer your Fear. Trying to desensitise yourself noble and brave, aye. But I won¡¯t sell you another popsicle until you see someone about this."


    Shiver huffed, barely containing her frustration. The last thing she wanted to do was to lash out at him.


    "I don¡¯t have the money to, Pov. Besides, what would they do? Shoot me up with Tranquility? I¡¯m doing this my way."


    She was firm but looked pleadingly at the merchant. He relented, knowing that once Shiver made her mind up about something, she was as persistent and relentless as the cold that she feared.


    "Come and stay with us. You¡¯re living by yourself, out in the frigid cold, that certainly can¡¯t be helping! You know, Marta would love to have you for dinner tonight. What do you say?"


    Shiver gave him a tight smile. She had lost count of the amount of times they had offered to give her a home. Yet she looked at his meagre offerings. How hard Marta and Pov had to struggle just to keep themselves afloat.


    Imposing on them had never been an option. So, she resorted to her usual refrain.


    "Alright, Pov, we¡¯ll see."


    She widened her doe eyes, fluttering her lashes.


    "I don¡¯t suppose you have any food that I could¡­ steal off you? All I have in my cold cave is some mouldy bread and chocolate."


    Pov shook his head with a smile, before a mischievous glint entered his eyes.


    She knew immediately that she had failed. The statement, meant to garner Pov¡¯s sympathy for a wretched orphan living in a cave had been doomed from the beginning.


    "Oh dear, Shiver. That sounds terrible. You know, you have this fascinating option."


    He leaned in closer.


    "It¡¯s called gainful employment. An unprecedented concept to you, I¡¯m sure. Mother Ventra came by earlier this morning mentioning that she had a job for you. There¡¯s a new arrival at the orphanage for you to induct."


    He grinned, as the tension in his body eased slightly.


    "You¡¯re going to reaaaally like her from the sounds of it. A stowaway."


    Shiver groaned at the thought of it. Another day, another runaway or orphan to show the ropes. Who else was going to?


    "Alright, alright. I¡¯ll bite. Otherwise, the only thing I¡¯ll be biting tonight will be more mouldy bread. See you later Pov. Say hi to Marta for me."


    Pov gave her another bright grin, a devilish glint in his eye.


    "And you stop breaking hearts with that icy gaze of yours. I heard that the smith¡¯s son has a little thing for you. What was his name¡­ Areld?"


    Shiver smiled politely, curtseying by pulling at her ragged cloak.


    "An icy gaze won¡¯t be the only thing he¡¯ll get if he¡¯s not careful. You know, I¡¯ve always thought your popsicles were perfectly sized. If he tries anything, I¡¯m sure they¡¯d fit perfectly¡­ right up his-"


    "Shiver! That is unbecoming of a lady!"


    Shiver felt a chill as Marta¡¯s voice boomed from within the tent. Before she could emerge, Shiver was off in a sprint.


    The old man guffawed at the sight and Shiver laughed her first true laugh that day.


    ---


    A stowaway shivered in a mouldy orphanage. It sounded like the premise of a joke to her.


    Just in this case, she was the butt of the joke.


    "You¡¯re welcome to sleep here, next to little Blaze."


    "I¡¯m not little!"


    Blaze, stared up at her with a burning curiosity ¨C true to her name.


    Some of the other little ones peeked around a corner, staring at the newcomer. Mother Ventra tutted.


    "Of course you aren¡¯t, dearie. Now, here¡¯s a change of clothes. You must¡¯ve been freezing in that ship¡¯s hold. You look exhausted, but I¡¯m afraid that only the young ones get free food and Tranquility. While we¡¯ll give you a roof over your head, you¡¯ll need to take on some work."


    The orphanage¡¯s caretaker gave her a pitying look.


    "Shiver, one of our older orphans will give you the rundown of the city and take you out for your first job."


    The girl gave her an elegant curtsey.


    "You are most gracious mistress- wait, already? Do you mean to say that I must begin work immediately? Have you no sympathy? Surely you cou-"


    The door to the orphanage slammed open, cutting her sentence short.


    Shiver gave the new arrival a once over, pointedly ignoring Mother Ventra. She extended her hand, and Ventra let out a tired sigh, begrudgingly depositing her pay for services in advance.


    The stranger cut a diminutive figure, reaching only up to Shiver¡¯s shoulder.


    Tangled, dark blonde hair framed her face and poorly concealed startling lavender eyes and shapely, arched eyebrows.


    A damp, but beautiful dark cloak hung from her shoulders, barely betraying her shivering.


    "Ah, Shiver. Just the per-"


    "Shut it, Mother. Come."


    Shiver wasted no time in striding away, grabbing onto the newcomer¡¯s hand.


    "Wha- Unhand me, you-"


    As Shiver pulled the girl outside, Shiver gave the gaping Blaze a wink while slamming the orphanage door shut.


    She was ok.


    What she had seen that morning was just a hallucination, like usual.


    Shiver smiled, the confirmation always appreciated.


    A distressed voice cracked, cutting through her brief sense of relief.


    "I won¡¯t stand for this treatment!"


    The stranger halted, attempting to wrench her hand weakly from Shiver¡¯s grip. Shiver allowed it, turning to face her. The girl huffed, turning her nose up at her infuriatingly. Before she could continue, Shiver stepped close to her, whispering into her ear.


    "You know, the only things I have left to eat are some mouldy bread and chocolate. I¡¯m still reeling from the loss of my popsicle last night."


    The newcomer gaped at Shiver in confusion.


    "P-pardon?"


    "I hear that young lords and ladies who find themselves estranged from their Houses fetch a hefty sum. If they¡¯re reported to their authorities, and promptly returned to their estate."


    The girl paled, her eyes widening. Shiver counted on her fingers, biting her lip and frowning in concentration.


    "So hefty I could buy at least a hundred popsicles if I turned you in. At least a hundred. I could have myself a whole popsicle harem, could you imagine?"


    The girl turned deathly pale, the familiar colour of many of Shiver¡¯s hallucinations.


    "I-I¡¯m no lady, what¡¯re you talking about?"


    "No? So that cloak of yours isn¡¯t trimmed in Darksilver? Forgive me, I get a bit loopy from the cold sometimes. It¡¯s a little chilly out."


    They stood tensely in one of Brimstone¡¯s countless alleyways. This one, like many of Brimstone¡¯s others, was set over one of the city¡¯s ingenious lavaways. You could tell from the orange glow that emanated from in between the city¡¯s cobblestones, sealed with translucent glass-like material that gave you a peak at the lava below.


    In other words, it was anything but cold.


    The girl backed away from Shiver with terrified eyes, casting furtive glances and scoping out potential escape routes. Shiver just raised an eyebrow at her, placing a hand on her hip.


    "Look, I¡¯m not going to turn you in. It¡¯s likely that bitch Ventra has already made a report to the authorities as we speak."


    The girl looked on the verge of tears. Her shoulders slumped.


    "But- but.. I¡¯m afraid I left some of my belongings back there. On the ship. All of my gold, my luggage."


    "Anything worth taking has already been taken. Trust me on that."


    The girl stared at the ground, silent. Shiver felt a pang of guilt looking at the defeated girl. She softened. But not too much.


    "Look, I¡¯ll ask around for you later. For the moment, you should take off that cloak, it¡¯s a dead giveaway. We¡¯ll get you some dry clothes and I¡¯ll show you the city."


    The girl looked at her quizzically, the fear and shock slowly giving way to cautious confusion.


    "Thank you, miss¡­ Shiver?"


    "Just Shiver."


    "Is your Fear¡­ that of the cold?"


    "No, no. Nothing so¡­ pedestrian. I Fear something far more horrifying."


    Shiver gave her a forlorn look. She gazed into her eyes with a thousand-yard stare, as if preoccupied by horrors unimaginable.


    The girl drew closer in anticipation, eyes alight with curiosity.


    "I have a Fear of small talk. This conversation is nightmare fuel to me. Less talking. Chop chop!"


    The girl stared at her dubiously, mouth agape.


    Shiver hid a smirk as she dragged her towards the market.

 Chapter 3: Hazing

    "Ah Shiver! Back already? I¡¯m not selling you any more popsicles! What have we here?"


    Pov looked expectantly at Shiver, crouched inconspicuously ¨C or so she thought ¨C behind a crate. She craned her neck to look up at Pov.


    "Psst Pov, where¡¯s Marta?"


    Pov chuckled, shaking his head.


    "She¡¯s off to the grocers. You¡¯re safe."


    Shiver righted herself, brushing herself off and simultaneously gaining immeasurable swagger. The girl standing beside her gaped, her infuriatingly elegant eyebrows twitching in confusion.


    No doubt she was doubting her ¡°choice¡± of guide.


    Not that Shiver gave a flying popsicle.


    "Pov, I¡¯m in need of some clothes."


    "Indeed. If you aren¡¯t careful, some of the young ones might trigger their Fears just glancing at you."


    Shiver gasped, raising a hand to her chest in mock outrage.


    "Pov! How could you? I have style. I¡¯m talking about this damp young individual."


    "Does this ¡°damp young individual¡± have a name?"


    Shiver just whistled, avoiding his gaze. Pov knowingly smirked at her, turning instead to the girl beside her.


    "You¡¯ll have to forgive Shiver my dear, she¡¯s quite socially stunted you see ¨C doesn¡¯t know how to ask after people¡¯s names."


    Pov deftly avoided a kick.


    "My name is Poverty. Pov for short. And you are?"


    "It¡¯s Vale, sir. Forgive me but¡­ Poverty? It surprises me that the residents of Brimstone are so forthcoming with their Fears."


    "Ah, Shiver must not have told you ¨C no surprise, of course. Orphans like Shiver and I are often simply named after our Fears. Many of us fall to Insanity rather quickly, after all. No point assigning anything lasting, or unique, or so they say."


    Vale blushed, bowing in apology but Pov only smiled warmly.


    "No, no, it¡¯s no trouble at all. Now I hear you¡¯re in need of some clothes? Come inside, come inside, you must be freezing. Ah! Just the person to help you."


    Pov shot Shiver a rictus grin. She felt the chill of betrayal about her, more terrifying than the worst of her hallucinations. A shadow enveloped the ground before her.


    "Marta isn¡¯t at the grocers, is she?"


    She heard a booming voice behind her.


    "Indeed. You left before I could say hello, girl. How fortunate of me to catch you so soon, eh?"


    Marta, Pov¡¯s wife stood behind her, giant in contrast to the stout and short Pov. Bulging muscles in her forearms rippled as she crossed her arms.


    "It¡¯s clear to me that you haven¡¯t bathed in at least two weeks. Or the stench might be coming from that mouth of yours."


    Shiver backed away slowly.


    "Now, now Martha. It¡¯s only been a week and a half. If you could spare lovely Vale her some clothes, I¡¯ll just be leav-"


    Marta struck like lightning, moving faster than anyone her size had any right to be. She grabbed Shiver by the scruff of her cloak and lifted her easily onto her shoulder.


    :Come along now Vale, it¡¯s wonderful to meet you. Time to get you two all cleaned up."


    Vale tried to stifle a laugh as Shiver glared at her, bobbing on Marta¡¯s shoulder.


    ---


    Vale sighed in relief as she poured warm water over her back, it was the calmest she had been since arriving in Brimstone. Shiver¡¯s screams of protest just served as the cherry on top, perfecting the serene atmosphere. Steam rose through wooden boards, a miracle of the Archcity¡¯s engineering. It was wondrous what luxuries the circulation of lava afforded even the poorer districts of the city.


    "Mart- Ouch! I can bathe myself, I¡¯m a grown elf. Why are yo- Gah!"


    Shiver gasped as Martha overturned a bucket of water at least three times the size of the ladle Vale held in her hand over Shiver¡¯s head.


    "There we go, finally! You now smell bearable girl, I thought it would take at least another hour¡¯s worth of scrubbing."


    Vale hid a snicker as she saw Shiver¡¯s eyes go round at the possibility. She slipped lithely out of Marta¡¯s grasp and grabbed a towel, running to dry herself off. Marta shared an amused glance with Vale before getting up to leave.


    "Join us at the dining table when you¡¯re ready, eh Vale? You look like you¡¯re starvin¡¯."


    "Finally! Someone with some compassion. Thank you, Marta, allow me to bathe for a moment more."


    While drying herself off, Shiver hissed at an approaching Marta.


    "There, there kitty. So, you¡¯ve found yourself a proper Lady eh?"


    Shiver sighed, rubbing at her temple.


    "She makes it too obvious. It¡¯ll make her an easy target."


    Marta nodded, her face growing solemn.


    "Reminds me of a certain uppity little girl that we met years ago. Speaking of which¡­"


    Marta paused, suddenly self-conscious.


    "Have you recalled anything since?"


    Marta always asked.


    For all her manhandling of her, all her meddling, Shiver knew that it pained the kind giant to see her, a little girl of ten out on the streets, with her childhood memories lost.


    Shiver¡¯s first memories were that of a dark cave and the howling blizzard. The very same cave she had made her home.


    It had surprised her when Pov and Marta had told her that she had been the picture of a young, elegant lady when they had first met her. How quickly that had changed.


    "No luck on that front."


    Marta sighed, reaching out to gently rest a gargantuan arm on Shiver¡¯s shoulder.


    "Maybe it¡¯s for the best, eh? For now, you¡¯ll need to work on the young lady¡¯s bearing."


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    "She has an immense ego. My work won¡¯t be easy."


    "Bigger than yours?"


    "Debatable. I¡¯ll give her the tour. She can stay with me until she¡¯s little more¡­ unpolished."


    Marta looked seriously at her, making Shiver shift uncomfortably and avert her eyes at her look of gratitude.


    "Thanks Shiv. Pov told me about¡­ the nightmares."


    Shiver shifted uncomfortably.


    "What will we have to do to convince you to stay with us, eh?"


    Marta shook her gently, and her voice was kind. Yet with every shake, Shiver felt the world spin, from the temptation which arose.


    It would be so easy to agree.


    If she did, she would be a curse upon Marta and Pov, another worthless mouth to feed.


    Better she distanced herself from them, for she knew that nothing good came of an orphan, abandoned by her birth parents.


    "Alright, alright. I won¡¯t press ya like Pov. Be nice to our little Lady."


    Shiver exchanged a glance with Marta. Occasionally, lords and ladies fled from the responsibilities of their station and from their families. Only the nobility could be Fearshapers, and they bore the weight of that responsibility, and the weight of their powers.


    Marta lowered her voice with a cursory glance towards the steam room.


    "If House Brimstone is after her, we will know soon. There have been no whispers of a missing lord or lady that I know of. Nothing to suggest which house she¡¯s from either."


    Shiver nodded. She didn¡¯t pry into Vale¡¯s past. Vale hadn¡¯t pried into hers, yet. There was dignity in ignorance.


    All she was doing was helping her find her feet like Marta and Pov had done for her. That was all. Shiver turned to the huge woman with a mischievous glint in her eye.


    "Sorry to turn down your kind offer of a meal, but we¡¯d best be off¡¯"


    "Are you sure?"


    Shiver nodded.


    "She needs to learn what her new life holds. No more fancy delicacies or fine dining ¨C can¡¯t let you get her hopes up."


    "I¡¯ll show her around the city¡­ then introduce her to some job prospects."


    "Shiver."


    "What? True, a lady like her might have more legitimate ways of making a living. Doing so while keeping her identity secret? That¡¯s another matter."


    Shiver avoided Marta¡¯s piercing gaze, and the sadness that undercut her expression.


    "I don¡¯t need your pity, Marta. It¡¯s just the way of things for us."


    "I¡¯ve told you before Shiver, if only you would allow me to teach you-"


    "How long before you¡¯re out of a job? Would you do it for all the orphans?"


    Marta¡¯s face fell. Shiver interrupted her mid-sentence.


    "That¡¯s the frustrating thing. I know you would do it for all of us. It will be up to our lady what she does. If she proves us wrong, I¡¯ll be all the merrier."


    Marta laid a warm hand on her shoulder.


    "You¡¯re a kind one, eh?"


    Marta looked at her with pride, and Shiver refused to meet her eyes. They were interrupted by a sigh from Vale behind them as the door to the steam room opened.


    Shiver¡¯s lips morphed into an angelic smile. Vale was certain it would haunt her dreams.


    "Let her be the judge of it."


    Vale gulped, taking an involuntary step backwards. She shut the door to the bath ¨C very voluntarily.


    ---


    "That Marta, she¡¯s¡­ certainly a little imposing."


    "A terror. Want to guess what she does for a living?"


    Shiver and Vale walked through the lower circle. It was midday, and it was rife with activity. Brimstone had markets spattered throughout the upper and lower circles. The merchants with the most common of goods were situated near the slums, to their distinct misfortune.


    Vale watched with wide eyes as Shiver casually nicked an apple from a stall, casually tossing it to Vale.


    "There, lunch."


    Vale gaped, turning over the slightly damp apple in her hands.


    Surely she was joking?


    Yet she didn¡¯t have the confidence to question her assumption. She didn¡¯t know who scared her more, that giant of a woman, Marta, or Shiver herself. Vale stumbled as she attempted to navigate between busy food stalls, struggling to keep pace with Shiver and their conversation. She heaved a sigh of relief as they reached a clearing around a fountain.


    "She must be some manner of labourer. Perhaps a miner, or a smith? Brimstone is known for its metal industry. Quite an achievement, for a small settlement. I confess I¡¯ve never seen a lady so¡­ well built."


    Shiver hesitated at her words.


    Brimstone¡­ a small settlement?


    Then her lips morphed into a familiar, angelic smile.


    "Well guessed my lady, I¡¯m ever impressed with your insight."


    Vale¡¯s confidence grew, and a self-satisfied smile gradually emerged. She cast her gaze around a fountain that they neared.


    "It¡¯s only to be expected, of a lady of my pedigree."


    "And what pedigree would that be? One of the big ones maybe ¨C House Dreamer? Flora?"


    Vale froze, blood fleeing from her cheeks, her terrified eyes meeting Shiver¡¯s own. Her expression was greeted with a chuckle and a clap on the back.


    "Oh, don¡¯t look so terrified, I won¡¯t bite. Unless I¡¯m hungry. Besides, your prospective employers would benefit greatly from your unparalleled insight, I¡¯m sure. Speaking of which, here¡¯s our first stop!"


    Shiver had halted before a building with a starkly different character from the others that surrounded it. Where the buildings in the slums were built from the same dark stone which carried a blueish hue, this one seemed to be constructed from wood. A pleasant scent emanated from its entrance.


    "My, this is pleasing!"


    "It certainly is."


    "What manner of profession are they engaged in?"


    "Pleasing."


    Vale choked, her eyes widening as the realisation hit. Suddenly, the host of beautiful young ladies lounging near the fountain made sense. One who had overheard their conversation held amusement in her eyes, casting her a wink.


    Vale blushed crimson. She swiveled to glare at Shiver, who was fighting - for her life - to maintain a neutral expression.


    "You see, my lady, despite your unparalleled intellect, your options for gainful employment are quite limited."


    "I assure you, I¡¯m well informed on a range of top-"


    "Perhaps you thought to offer your services as a tutor, to eager and young Brimstone minds."


    That was exactly what she had been planning to do, upon realising that she had lost what scant resources she carried.


    "It would only take a cursory investigation for any curious employers to realise that they have on their hands, a very distinguished, young runaway of a lady. Perhaps you would be lucky enough to stumble upon an employer willing to aid you, irrespective of your circumstances."


    Shiver nodded seriously, looking her in her eyes.


    "Perhaps you would even be successful enough to make it out of the lower circles. The moment you do, you will find that the presence of Brimstone¡¯s finest increases significantly. The guards hardly patrol the slums, I wonder why."


    "I-"


    "Should mummy or daddy issue a notice that their beloved daughter has had a momentary lapse in judgement, you would be caught in a moment."


    Strangely, Shiver noticed the lady gain a degree of confidence.


    Strange, maybe she¡¯s confident her parents won¡¯t be looking for her.


    "And your solution was to make me a prostitute?"


    She attracted the steely gazes of the women around them. Vale withdrew further within herself. Shiver let out a sigh.


    "Alright, alright. No, it wasn¡¯t. I brought you here to make a point, which still stands. You don¡¯t have many options, if you want to keep your identity a secret."


    Vale crossed her arms, glaring at Shiver.


    "I¡¯m not even planning to stay here for long anyway. You don¡¯t know anything of my plans."


    Shiver nodded, unfazed at her retort.


    "Of course. You could make your way to the other cities. If you survived the unforgiving Winterlands. Or perhaps you planned to sneak onto another ship? Leave the way you came? Make an illustrious return to the dampness?"


    Vale¡¯s shoulders slumped dejectedly.


    One of the older courtesans walked over to them and smacked Shiver with her fan, eliciting a yelp.


    "We know you love to use our profession to make your points, you¡¯ve done it with every young orphan who¡¯s had the misfortune of having you as a mentor. Do it again, and perhaps you¡¯ll find yourself in the business of pleasing."


    Shiver smiled at her, unfazed, shooting her a wink.


    "My specialty. As I was saying ¨C you haven¡¯t many options. If you went off running to the first legitimate job offer that crossed your path, you would be made in no time."


    "Then what would you have me do?"


    "Why, introduce you to my place of work of course"

 Chapter 4: The Grand Heist

    Shiver and Vale ascended the staircase, flanked on either side by Brimstone¡¯s lavaways. They emerged into a bustling street, and the difference in scenery was palpable.


    Where the lower circle was covered in grit and darkness, Brimstone¡¯s upper circle shone.


    Just about their only similarity were the streets, cast in the same dark blue cobblestone. Yet where the roads of the slums lay untended and caked in grime, those of the upper circle were untarnished.


    Autumntrees sprouted leaves which glowed a gentle orange. They fell to rest idly on wide walkways paved in white. Flower bushes lined the cobbled streets, which were filled with elves who strode confidently in immaculate clothing, heedless of the world below them.


    "Beautiful isn¡¯t it."


    Vale gazed around the streets with wide eyes, her eyes tracing carriages which sported the insignia of lesser noble houses. Shiver snapped her out of her stupor, as she pulled on her sleeve. They walked along the row of shops, the sultry scent of freshly baked bread making her mouth water.


    Vale shook herself out of her reverie, wrenching her sleeve from Shiver¡¯s grasp.


    "You work here, Shiver? Weren¡¯t you saying I would be made up here, with all the guards around?"


    "Yet something tells me that isn¡¯t something you¡¯re too concerned about."


    Vale¡¯s eyes widened imperceptibly. The orphan rolled her eyes in exasperation.


    "Oh come on, I¡¯m just showing you the options. It¡¯s up to you what you choose to do."


    As they strode along the street, they came before an immense black building that lay at the center of a junction.


    "The archaeologists guild. My main place of employment."


    "Wait, did you say that you work for the archaeologist¡¯s guild? This is the place I¡¯ve been looking for!"


    Shiver raised an eyebrow in response, at the expression of excitement that slipped through Vale¡¯s guard. Her cheeks coloured and she slapped her hands over her mouth.


    "You don¡¯t say."


    Vale averted her eyes. Shiver gave her a nudge.


    "Watch."


    She watched as Shiver crossed the road, effortlessly blending into the crowd that surrounded the guild. Vale gaped as she witnessed Shiver grab onto the suitcase of a young archaeologist, deep in discussion with a colleague.


    "Shiver! Give that back!"


    Shiver just idly hefted the bag, before her, a grin of satisfaction on her face.


    "Relax, we ransom it back to them through a fence. You¡¯d be astounded at what these archaeologists pay for their own work. They have the money for it, and no one gets hurt in the process."


    "Except the archaeologists."


    "No victims whatsoever. Besides, what is archaeology but stealing things from long dead elves. I¡¯m just stealing them back."


    Vale just glared at the orphan. She couldn¡¯t help but admire the mental gymnastics at play.


    :Well, well, well. Now it looks like I have the opportunity to introduce you to my understudy. You¡¯ve met her once before."


    Vale blinked, and Shiver melted into the crowd before her, only to remerge holding the pigtails of a young elf who protested at Shiver¡¯s treatment of her hair.


    "Let go Shiver! I was just-"


    "Eavesdropping? Excellent work little firefly, you¡¯ve been working especially hard these last couple of days. I¡¯m so proud of you."


    A look of genuine pride shone from Shiver¡¯s face.


    "Vale, meet the little firefly."


    "Don¡¯t call me that! My name is Blaze!"


    "You don¡¯t have a choice. Now, our dear friend over here seems to have something she wants from the archeologist¡¯s guild, isn¡¯t that right?"


    "Oh no. Ahem. There¡¯s nothing I want at whatsoev-"


    "Save us both the time."


    Vale just sighed in resignation.


    "Even if there was, I¡¯ve got nothing to offer you."


    Shiver exchanged a terrifying look of mischief with her ¡°understudy¡±.


    "The challenge is its own offer. Besides, we¡¯ve been scoping out the place of late ¨C we have a more¡­ ambitious plan in mind."


    "Don¡¯t tell me. You want to rob the place."


    The look of abject hurt on Shiver¡¯s expression prompted a giggle from Blaze.


    "Rob is a strong word. I prefer ¡°temporarily relinquish¡±. You see, the guild has been getting wise to our attempts. Before they hire appropriate security, we figure we would pull off one last hurrah, isn¡¯t that right firefly?"


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    "Yes! Just yesterday, I robbed a lor-"


    "What did I tell you about boasting about your work?"


    Shiver had the gall to look disappointed, willfully ignorant to her hypocrisy.


    "Sorry Shiver."


    "Accountability maketh orphans. Shame it doesn¡¯t rhyme. Now. What exactly are you looking for?"


    Vale¡¯s jaw tightened, and fear crept into her expression.


    "Perhaps somewhere with a little more privacy."


    ---


    The trio lounged under the shade of a vast autumntree in one of the parks in the upper circle. Vale stared up at Brimstone Manor, which bordered the park. The domain of House Brimstone.


    "Really? Right next to Brimstone Manor? You couldn¡¯t find a better place? What about the guards?"


    Shiver gave Vale a self-satisfied grin.


    "Precisely. It¡¯s the last place they would think to find a band of scheming rogues. Besides, you think we¡¯re afraid of some guards? They¡¯ll just chuck us right back on the streets where we were. We aren¡¯t worth the effort it takes to throw us."


    Shiver shifted forwards, leaning in. Blaze adorably mimicked the older orphan. If she wasn¡¯t so afraid of being thrown into a cell, Vale might have teased her.


    "It¡¯s other thieves that will be the death of us. Anyone catches wind of it, and our bounty will be taken from under our noses. You on the other hand my lady? You have no allegiances, yet. We could use your help. In return, we¡¯ll lend you the help you need."


    Blaze nodded excitedly, her red pigtails bobbing atop her head. Vale let out a large sigh, and steeled herself.


    "Alright, alright. I¡¯m looking for¡­ a map. A map of the Verscallian Peaks."


    Shiver¡¯s eyes narrowed, her mind awhirl.


    "Not just any ordinary map I assume. Otherwise, there¡¯d be no need to steal from the guild."


    Vale nodded.


    "Does the name Veringold ring any bells?"


    Blaze¡¯s mouth fell open at the mention of the name.


    "What? What did I say?"


    "Veringold? Aveline Veringold is the Guildmistress of Brimstone¡¯s archaeologist¡¯s guild."


    Shiver began to chuckle, with Blaze looking on wide-eyed. Shortly afterwards, she began attempting to mimic the older orphan¡¯s demeanor.


    "Way to make things interesting, my lady. It would be too boring if we were stealing from some two-bit archaeologist. What are we looking for?"


    "Her journal, most likely."


    "So that¡¯s why you¡¯re in Brimstone, looking for something out in the Winterlands. Care to explain what?"


    "I¡­ don¡¯t exactly know. All that I do know, is that Aveline may have information about a great mystery near Brimstone."


    Shiver raised an eye, as Vale turned away from the girl, attempting to conceal her abashed expression.


    "One that my father fears."


    "What was that?"


    Vale cleared her throat as the line that she muttered failed to reach Shiver. The older orphan girl looked at Blaze, her grey eyes flashing with mischief.


    "Think we can pull it off little firefly? This won¡¯t be like our usual shenanigans; we¡¯ll have to infiltrate the guild itself. Can I trust you with it?"


    Blaze nodded vigorously, her mousey, brown pigtails bobbing up and down with look of determination on her face.


    Shiver and Vale laughed at the younger girl¡¯s enthusiasm to her chagrin.


    "You never take me seriously! Meanie! You saw me steal that perv¡¯s pouch yesterday, and he was a lord. They won¡¯t see me coming!"


    Shiver grinned, pulling them into a huddle.


    "Here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do."


    ---


    Night had fallen, and Blaze strode through the streets of the upper circle. Elves walked leisurely with friends and family, enjoying the city¡¯s delights as night fell. She watched in amazement as the autumnleaves glowed a crisp orange in the streetlight that cloaked the upper circles walkways in a soft, bright light. Her heart fluttered as the glowing orange leaves conjured a vision of sparks, a reminder of Blaze¡¯s own Fear.


    "Those pesky thieves, I tell you Bodric. So many documents and artefacts so egregiously stolen, I dread to take my eyes off of my belongings for even a second these days! Dreadful I tell you."


    "Terrible my good man."


    "The guildmistress ¨C bless her soul ¨C is appointing guard detail tomorrow. Thankfully we won¡¯t have to worry about those dastardly pests for long. More importantly, any news on her uncle? He¡¯s been missing for an age ¨C just up and disappeared on an expedition in the Winterlands. One of our most experienced, I could hardly believe it."


    "Grim business Avan. The Peaks will swallow you whole if you give them even the barest of chances."


    "I hope for Miss Aveline¡¯s sake that he¡¯s found soon, the poor thing."


    Avan and Bodric stood idly outside of the archaeologist¡¯s guild. They puffed on large, ornate cigars, the ends of which glowed a bright orange with each inhalation. A familiar scent reached Blaze¡¯s nose. She felt a sudden sense of relaxation wash over her.


    Tranquility? I had no idea you could smoke it. Ptooey, fancy nobles.


    She eyed their coin purses on full display at their hips. It was a shame she would have to leave them behind, these halfwits were ripe for the picking. The plan was more important, and if they pulled it off, she wouldn¡¯t have to steal for a while.


    She watched with a tinge of envy as Shiver and Vale walked up to the pair of archaeologists.


    Elves around them ¨C men and women alike ¨C turned to gaze at the pair of ladies in their midst. They stood out even when garbed similarly to the wealthy residents of the upper circle.


    "Hello there gentlemen. How are you this fine evening?"


    They were clothed in the finest silk that Madame Valmira¡¯s had to offer ¨C not that her pleasure house had noticed anything amiss. Shiver was dressed in a dark grey gown that accentuated her lithe figure and made her cerulean eyes shine in the evening light. Vale was dressed in an emerald green gown, sequins flashing as they made their way towards the archaeologists.


    "Hmph, amateur. She looks like she¡¯s going to keel over with how much her knees are shaking. Besides, I¡¯m prettier! Why didn¡¯t Shiver choose me as her partner?"


    The girl of all of twelve years huffed in frustration, struggling to decipher the older orphan¡¯s logic. She had to admit though, Shiver brimming with confidence dragging her ¡°shy¡± along with her sold their ploy exceptionally well.


    "My friend here is fascinated with artefacts; she practically won¡¯t shut up about them. Frankly ¨C no offense meant ¨C I struggle to think of a more boring topic of conversation. If we had two dashing guides to show us around the city however¡­ perhaps I could be more easily persuaded."


    Shiver directed a wink towards the two men, a blush rising to their cheeks. Their gazes lingered on Shiver and Vale¡¯s forms with naked interest. Blaze had to give it to the older orphan, she played them like a fiddle.


    It wasn¡¯t long before they were headed down towards the lower circle, the excitement of a night out with two foreign ladies hamstringing what little logic remained in their skulls.


    Blaze smirked as the first phase of Shiver¡¯s plan sprung into action.


    Heh. Perverts.

 Chapter 5: Consequences

    The sun had set by the time Shiver and Vale returned.


    The street was abuzz as the upper circle came to life with elves headed to restaurants or bars.


    They arrived dressed in archaeologist¡¯s clothing, sporting the long brown coats emblazoned with the guild¡¯s emblem. The very same coats worn by the two men that had accompanied them. Their faces were concealed by large, brown hats ordinarily worn when the archaeologists were out on expedition. They walked confidently into the guild, taking their seats in a waiting area, Shiver gave Blaze a discrete nod.


    The tying and gagging was successful ¨C just not in the way those men had anticipated.


    Blaze entered the guild and headed straight towards the reception. She stood on her tiptoes and knocked on the high desk before her.


    "Welcome to the arc- oh hello there little one, something I can help you with?"


    Blaze cleared her throat, meeting the receptionist¡¯s eyes with an unparalleled look of self-importance.


    "That¡¯s my little firefly."


    Shiver nudged Vale with pride. Blaze projected her voice, such that it drew the attention of nearby guild members.


    "I¡¯ve been sent to speak to your guildmistress. Two of your men have stirred up some trouble in Madame Valmira¡¯s pleasure house. You must not have heard me. I said, the PLEASUR-"


    Before she could continue the receptionist lunged to cover Blaze¡¯s mouth with her hands. She looked around anxiously, her cheeks having turned a dark red. She scampered around the desk to kneel before the girl.


    "Hush now. The guildmistress will be right there to settle things, let me go get her. You wait right here and bring-"


    "I¡¯ve got important things to do, lady. I¡¯ll be off now."


    The receptionist cursed as Blaze slipped out of her grip and walked briskly towards the entrance.


    Shiver rose, tailing the anxious receptionist as she hurried up the stairs to the guildmistress¡¯ office. Walking through a winding hallway, she ascended further to the top floor of the building, knocking anxiously on what must have been the guildmistress¡¯ door. Shiver smirked as she quickly returned to her seat in the waiting room.


    Before long, a tall elf with wavy brown hair dressed sharply in black leather pants and matching boots strode down the stairs, the receptionist in tow. She wore an elegant rapier at her hip. They watched as they disappeared into the evening rush.


    "Are you sure she¡¯ll be capable of it? Aveline looked sharp."


    Vale shot Shiver an anxious glance, adrenaline flooding her system. The orphan just smiled as she sat patiently.


    True to her words, Blaze entered the guild once more, this time heading straight for the pair. She smugly dropped a set of keys into Shiver¡¯s lap, looking at her expectantly.


    "Great job firefly. But you know what we agreed."


    "But-"


    "No buts. We need you to be our lookout in case anything goes wrong. You can come along next time."


    Blaze sulked, but promptly exited the guild. Vale had to admire the little girl¡¯s professionalism.


    "We¡¯ve bought ourselves a bit of time, let¡¯s go see what this guildmistress has to offer."


    ---


    "So¡­ which map were you after again?"


    Locking the door behind them, they stared into Aveline¡¯s office.


    Organised chaos was an appropriate description, with books and maps covering her office. Vale gulped but steeled herself, rushing to the guildmistress¡¯ table and poring over the documents on display.


    "It seems like she was putting together an expedition. She¡¯s trying to find something in the Winterlands. This is promising. Let¡¯s see¡­ a rescue operation? An archaeologist seeking the fabled Archcity of-"


    Vale¡¯s eyes widened. She knew she was in the right place.


    "No sign of a journal just y- What are you doing Shiver?"


    Shiver was walking idly along a large bookshelf which spanned the entire length of the room.


    She ran her finger across the book spines, her eyes cast towards the floor.


    "I¡¯ve heard rumours of weird noises coming from the guildmistress¡¯ room. No, it¡¯s not what you think, pervert. Sounds of a metallic creaking, the archaeologists talk. You see, the guildmistress is entrusted with the responsibility over the guild¡¯s most valuable artefacts. Ah, perfect."


    Shiver knelt, tracing her finger across slight marks etched into the room floor. She began pulling books from the bookshelf, sending them tumbling to the ground.


    "Shiver what are you-"


    "There we go."


    A click and the bookshelf swung open, and just as the rumours suggested, emitted a dull metal creak.


    "Someone really needs to oil these hinges. After you, my lady."


    Vale rushed to join her as Shiver strolled into the room. It was dimly lit, and a number of shelves and display cases lined the walls of the hidden room. Vale¡¯s eyes widened as she glimpsed a torn tapestry lining the far wall.


    Elves kneeling in supplication over a vast¡­ figure. The detail had faded with time but the respect that they paid was clear.


    Whatever it had been, it hung over the elves, casting a watchful gaze over them with irises of abyssal blue.


    Did its gaze contain benevolence, apathy or disdain?


    Whatever the artist sought to portray, it had been lost to time.


    Stranger still was the spider that stood over the elves, two of its legs extended skyward.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Our guildmistress has a strange taste in artwork."


    Shiver wrenched her eyes away from the tapestry to the artefacts that filled the display cabinets within. She rubbed her hands together in glee, taking a step forward.


    One of the central display cabinets depicted a hammer that reached up to her torso. The hammer¡¯s head glowed intensely, forcing Shiver to squint as if glaring into the sun on a sweltering summer day. She gently opened the display case, reaching inside to grasp its handle, her curiosity driving her onwards.


    The smiths in the undercity would go insane for th-


    Shiver¡¯s vision went white.


    A moment later, she found herself on the floor, her chest heaving, and sweat drenching her through.


    For a moment, she felt like she had been submerged into a forge burning as hot as the sun itself, the heat stripping away her skin and boiling tendon and blood alike.


    In that split second, she felt utterly helpless, at the mercy of the forge.


    It was a familiar feeling.


    "Shiver! Are you alright?"


    The girl spat derisively to the side as the sensation faded and struggled to her feet waving away Vale¡¯s offer for help.


    "Get away. Something¡¯s not right."


    The room was filled with all manner of similar artefacts. Shiver¡¯s eyes widened as she spotted a greatsword, adorned by a handle the colour of darkest red. Its blade a reflection of the night sky ¨C pinpricks of light shining in the depths of its darkness, as splashes of colour circled ethereally in their midst.


    She glimpsed an elegant ballpoint pen, cast entirely in a smooth white metal. In place of ink, blood seemed to drip from its tip unceasingly, onto a parchment of black. Just glancing at it, she felt the hysterical urge to run it down her skin, part it and let her own blood flow free.


    A magnifying glass sat idly in a small glass case, its surface clouded by grey mist. Shiver felt it grasp gently at her curiosity and drag her towards it. When she tried to shake herself off, she felt like it had her head in a vice, enticing, seducing her with the mysteries it promised to unveil. She felt the beginnings of whispers tantalizingly enter her aware-


    Shiver clamped her teeth down on her tongue, drawing blood. She stumbled back, catching herself on another case. Her chest heaved as she noticed lines of blood trailing from her eyes.


    Shiver noticed as Vale¡¯s gaze was drawn towards a dagger of ivory. Wisps of black mist seemed to peel gradually off its curved blade, encircling the girl. The girls eyes flashed and she let out a ear-piercing scream.


    There was no way that had gone unnoticed.


    "Vale! Get back, this is out of our paygrade. We need to leave."


    Shiver cursed as she heard shouts outside.


    The door slammed open ¨C opening at such a velocity that shards of wood flew from its impact with a nearby dresser. The guildmistress herself strode in, her eyes drilling into Shiver¡¯s own, her rapier in hand.


    "Avalkin¡¯s hairy ballsack."


    ---


    In a twisted turn of fate, Shiver and Vale found themselves tied and gagged in the guildmistress¡¯ office. Karma had a way of coming around, it seemed.


    "None of the artefacts are missing, guildmistress. They are secure."


    Aveline Veringold sat on her chair, her arms crossed on the edge of its back as she watched her two captives with interest. It reminded Shiver of tales of winterlions stalking their prey in the old days when they still roamed the Verscallian Peaks.


    "Lock it. They¡¯re only so secure in a vault hidden behind a bookshelf. How many times have I told you that it¡¯s too much of a clich¨¦. If these street thieves managed to find it, how do you think we¡¯d fare against a professional?"


    Shiver was thoroughly offended.


    Tying and gagging her was one thing ¨C she could deal with that. Insulting her competence?


    Yet, she sensed an undertone of unease in the guildmistress¡¯ body language. She cast tentative gazes at the bookshelf concealing her vault.


    "Stop trying to lick your gag, girl. It won¡¯t do any good."


    Aveline watched Shiver with mild amusement. Strangely, her face fell for a moment.


    "I should have stopped you before you entered. You¡¯ve glimpsed secrets, if revealed, that would have me dead in a ditch."


    She clenched her eyes shut, her palms rushing to her temple. She groaned, as if experiencing an acute headache.


    "I like you. You two have spunk. You must be the one responsible for our recent thefts."


    Shiver sat back pleased as the guildmistress singled her out. Vale looked at her helplessly.


    "It¡¯s a shame we can¡¯t have you running around having, having glimpsed what you have."


    Vale started to scream helplessly against her gag as the guildmistress drew a sword and positioned over them.


    Her grip tightened around its hilt, but before she could raise it-


    "Don¡¯t mind me. I¡¯ve heard the little rascal has been up to more mischief. No amount of discipline is enough Shiver, eh?"


    The helpless receptionist together with two other archaeologists struggled to restrain the gargantuan woman who entered the guildmistress¡¯ office. Aveline let out a huge sigh. Shiver could sense a tinge of relief that underpinned it.


    "Marta Trobid. Don¡¯t tell me, the librarium has resorted to recruiting petty thieves? Just how desperate are you and those useless scholars going to hound me for?"


    Marta leaned against a table casually, causing its legs to creak in protest.


    She was such a welcome sight Vale could have kissed her.


    "I¡¯m not on librarium business, Aveline. Besides, I¡¯ve been well aware of your little collection. Your archaeologists talk, especially after a couple of drinks."


    The guildmistress¡¯ thoughts were awhirl behind eyes of light gold. Pov hurried through the open doorway.


    "The librarium-"


    "Those old fools. Their Fear and arrogance rules them. I care little for my learned colleagues - sorry excuses for ¡°scholars¡±. Too easily deterred by Brimstone¡¯s scrutiny. Do what you will."


    Vale¡¯s mouth hung wide open, too astounded to speak. She shot an accusatory glance at Shiver who returned a glib smile ¨C Marta was no labourer, no smith. She worked for the Brimstone librarium?


    She was a Feardamned scholar.


    Aveline stared blankly at Marta. She didn¡¯t intercede as Pov gently undid the girls¡¯ restraints. After a slight shake of her head, Aveline paced around them, shutting the door in the face of gawking guild members who had amassed to witness the scene. Her knuckles were white on the hilt of her sword.


    "What is there to stop you from ratting me out to those same codgy scholars? You know their stance on these cursed relics. Profanity they say."


    Aveline spat derisively.


    "Turning a blind eye to what they imply, they fly in the face of the ¡°truths¡± our noble houses have been fee-"


    "I¡¯ll give you a glimpse of my very own discoveries. A little bit of extracurricular research if you will. Accumulated over the years. Surely you didn¡¯t think yourself the only one savvy enough to stumble across an artefact or two."


    It was then Shiver noticed Pov lugging a thick brown sack that he hefted over one shoulder. His purple merchant¡¯s robes were caked in sweat by the effort, and she felt a sharp pang of guilt.


    He dropped them before the guildmistress.


    "Have them."


    Marta let out a warm chuckle as she handed a folder to the guildmistress. It contained sketches of the very same ¡°cursed relics¡± undoubtedly contained in the sack, delicately sketched with unparalleled precision. Complete with notes detailing the symptoms those relics surfaced.


    "If these two utter a word, I¡¯ll be just as dead as you are. Satisfied?"


    Aveline¡¯s shoulders shrunk in relief ¨C not from Marta¡¯s relics, but from the realisation that she had not been alone in her endeavour to uncover the truths behind them. Her eyes flicked across Vale and Shiver¡¯s faces, her gaze carrying a hint of an apology.


    "Besides, I know you¡¯re preparing for an expedition, eh? This dear husband of mind might be able to assist in that regard. We¡¯ll talk more. In the meantime¡­"


    Vale withered beneath Marta¡¯s gaze, as her glare bore deeply into them.


    Then, as quickly as it had hardened, her glare lost its force, and her warm hands turned the girls over expertly, assessing for injuries. Her forehead wrinkled in a frown as she noticed the blood trailing from Shiver¡¯s eyes, which she wiped off gently. She grasped their hands tightly and gingerly led them out of the guildmistress¡¯ office.


    Leaving her folder and discoveries behind in Aveline¡¯s hands.


    As they made their way back, the tension had not fled from Shiver¡¯s eyes. Marta and Pov¡¯s sacrifice weighed on her.


    There was always a price to pay, even for a life as worthless as hers.

 Chapter 6: Redemption

    The bigger they are, the harder they fall.


    It was not a saying that applied to most orphans.


    Perhaps most of all, it was relevant to the nobility. Those privy to the powers of Fearshaping, bringing their nightmares into reality. As if to mock the very Fears that eternally haunted all elves.


    Wealthy merchants? Surely the saying applied to them. Fighting coin by coin to amass a fortune, they danced at the edge of the nobility¡¯s whims. It was a long way down if they slipped, and when they did, many never rose again.


    Shiver watched as the candle before her cast dancing shadows on the walls of the Trobid home. Vale lay sleeping on a bed nearby, exhausted from the events of the day. Marta had brought them back home, washed them up, and tended to their injuries. When Shiver had attempted to return to her cave, the giant had picked her up by her waist and locked her in a room with Vale.


    The reason why she ran so hard and far from Marta and Pov¡¯s kindness throughout the years was simple.


    There was nothing more addicting to someone abandoned, cast aside on the street, or in a cave in her case, than unconditional, unwarranted love.


    Even the sweet relief brought by Tranquillity that had reduced many an elf to shells of themselves wasn¡¯t as alluring.


    She resented herself for it. Seeing Marta relinquish her relics to the guild for her sake, amassed through countless painstaking excursions into the bitter winterlands. Pov, in the expedition contracts bargained with the guild, undoubtably at his own expense.


    She resented herself for the sacrifices they had made for her. They demanded nothing. A part of her wanted to resign herself to her selfish wishes, and to live with them, like they had suggested countless times.


    She just bowed her head, as Marta closed the door with a gentle click.


    The bigger they are, the harder they fall.


    It was not a saying for an orphan, abandoned, cast away in a cave.


    For she had never managed to get very far from the ground for her falls to hurt.


    It was a simple matter of returning home, to a familiar misery.


    For the very first time, Shiver felt like she had fallen from a heaven that she didn¡¯t deserve.


    ---


    Vale woke from her nightmares to a pair of shining cerulean eyes, comically close to her own.


    She yelped, and leapt backwards, scattering her sheets.


    "Morning my lady. We have a very busy day today. You see, Marta is cooking us dinner, and we¡¯re going to help her."


    Vale let out a loud grown and covered herself with her sheets again.


    "Shiver the sun barely just rose! Besides, I¡¯m sure Marta and Pov can sort out their own dinner. Can¡¯t a lady get a bit of rest!"


    She sighed, snuggling into her pillow with contentment. Shiver paused, her eyes traced Vale¡¯s form.


    One last chance then.


    "I think we should make it up to the both of them."


    "I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be fine. They chose to help us, we didn¡¯t ask for it. Now let me sl-"


    In an instant, Shiver began dragging Vale out of her bed, heedless to her cries or efforts to cling onto her covers.


    "My you two are lively this morning? Sleep well?"


    Pov knocked and entered the room. Shiver avoided his gaze and redoubled her efforts to push Vale out of her bed.


    "Oh Poverty, thank heavens you¡¯re here. Please tell her to stop, Shiver¡¯s being positively feral!"


    Poverty let out a hearty laugh.


    "She usually is. Shiver?"


    He waited as the girl continued to free Vale from her covers in silence. After what seemed like an eternity, her efforts slowed.


    "Someone has to get dinner together today."


    "You¡¯re staying for dinner?"


    Pov¡¯s mouth fell at her words and his eyes bulged in shock. Shiver redoubled her efforts, finally wrangling Vale out of her blankets. Shiver dragged her past Pov.


    "Shiver you¡¯re finally staying for din-"


    Shiver shut the door in Pov¡¯s face.


    "Why are we in such a ru- mmf mmmff"


    "It¡¯s a surprise."


    Shiver pinched Vale¡¯s lips together pulling her through the front door while sporting a familiar grin.


    Vale was glad to see the orphan regain some of her characteristic mirth. Shiver had been silent the entire time Marta tended to their wounds the day before. She hadn¡¯t uttered a word even after Marta had left, despite Vale¡¯s efforts to discuss what they had seen.


    However, as she saw the grin linger on the orphan¡¯s face, her joy turned into confusion. She started to wonder¡­ just what awaited her that had Shiver looking so happy.


    Her confusion gradually turned into looming terror as she pondered what Shiver had planned for them.


    As she quickly discovered, she should have listened to her gut.


    ---


    "Oh, how wonderfully industrial! I¡¯ve never seen a ¡°lift¡± like this before."


    The lift carried Vale and Shiver down to Brimstone¡¯s docks, which brimmed with activity. It was powered by a coalfire engine, a recent invention straight from Brimstone itself. Vale brimmed with curiosity as she took in the sights and sounds around her.


    The lift stuttered to a stop as it reached the foot of the cliff.


    The pair squeezed through the bustling crowd, finally arriving at a stall.


    A hunched, bald man shouted prices with a tremendous voice into the crowd before him.


    "Get yer soldiercrabs here! Only twenty silver! Boiled and slaughtered so they don¡¯t get yer balls like they did mine!"


    The old man cackled, waving an enormous crab the size of his entire torso at the crowd. Vale gasped in astonishment. Upon noticing them, the hunched man shot them a greasy grin and gave them a bow which produced a symphony of popping noises. Shiver winced, rubbing at her own back.


    "Welcome ladies, to me ¡®umble establishment. Shiver! Looking for work, are ye?"


    Shiver returned an exaggerated bow to the vendor.


    "No, no ¨C we¡¯re paying customers today Pince."


    "Well! Why didn¡¯t ye just say so!"


    Vale stared incredulously as the pair of them erupted into raucous laughter.


    "Only the freshest of the bunch for ye!"


    Shiver¡¯s eyes twinkled as she shared a grin with the crab salesman.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "Indeed, and this here young lass will have the privilege of picking them out. She has an eye for seafood, isn¡¯t that right Vale?"


    Vale nodded enthusiastically before catching herself. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded Shiver with suspicion.


    The old man chuckled, nodding his head and ushering them through his small storefront lined with crabs around him.


    "Is that so, is that so. It¡¯s lovely to meet yer young lady, after me if you please."


    Vale followed the man, as they came upon a muddy pit brimming with crabs at the back of the store. Despite the small storefront, the pit was sizeable, housing a number of the creatures.


    "They¡¯re enormous, hmm I wonder which would be the best pick. That one over th-"


    Before she could react, Shiver grabbed Vale¡¯s calves, upending her straight into the crab pit. She screamed as she plummeted straight into the mud. The crabs, used to this occurrence, scuttled right out of the way.


    "I see yer got another one Shiv? Been a while since you¡¯ve brought ¡®nother orphan around. A right lady this one is, introduce her to Princess Penelope yer should."


    Pincer pointed at a crab in the distance bobbing with a muddied pink ribbon under a little hut aptly named ¡°Princess Penelope¡±.


    "Will do Pince, what¡¯s the best 5 silver will get? It¡¯s all I¡¯ve got."


    The pair of them ignored Vale¡¯s screams from the pit, utterly focused on the bargain.


    "I¡¯ll give yer ol¡¯ Richard. You¡¯ll need a big one if yer finally having that dinner with them."


    Shiver looked abashed. The pair of them spat in their hands and sealed the deal with a handshake.


    "Don¡¯t tell me Pov¡¯s gone around ratting me out, already. He talks too much. Taking that unit for five silver would be outright theft though, I¡¯d never do that to you. We¡¯ll do you a favour and round up a couple to save you the trouble."


    Pince nodded in gratitude with a wide smile, the gaps in his teeth on grand display.


    "That¡¯s our Shiver! Always a thoughtful one. Just around thirty-five would do yer right."


    "Shiver! What is the meaning of this! How dare yo-"


    Shiver walked over to the fenced pit edge to look down at the squirming Vale, thoroughly covered in mud. With a lithe leap, she fell into the mud beside her, gracing her with another layer of filth. As Vale recoiled, she fell onto her backside, squishing an unfortunate crab which promptly pinched her bottom in retaliation. Furious tears fell unbidden from her eyes as she squirmed away into the path of other scuttling crabs. Shiver stood over her in the mud of the pit, as she did to all of the other orphans she had mentored, like young Blaze. Each time, it was a slightly varied speech ¨C whatever they needed to hear. A reality check.


    "Lesson one."


    She paced before a gaping Vale.


    "Trust no one. I don¡¯t care who you were in your past life, whether you were a queen, princess, lady or bloody crab-saint- "


    Princess Penelope snapped her pincers at her in indignation, resenting the comparison.


    "You have no one now. You are no one. Did you think you could waltz into the city and own it? Take advantage of the kindness of others? That was certainly how you were acting."


    Shiver halted in front of the wide-eyed Vale.


    "You seemed to believe that you were entitled to the sacrifices Marta and Pov made yesterday. Perfectly content to sleep in."


    "Hey now, that¡¯s unf-"


    In response, Shiver idly flicked another small crab at her and Vale screamed and scuttled back. She resumed her pacing.


    "Did you intend to make it up to them at all? Give me an answer. I swear, if the thought genuinely crossed your mind, I¡¯ll get on my knees, apologise, clean you up myself and serve you the best crab stew you¡¯ve had in your life."


    Vale blushed. After the events of the past day, all she had wanted to do was burry her head in a pillow and sleep the rest of her exhaustion away. She hadn¡¯t thought to repay Pov and Marta for bailing them out.


    Shiver knew it. At least she had the character to admit it, with her silence.


    Shiver finally stopped pacing, staring her down.


    "We were both at fault for getting made yesterday. But, my lady. You act like your life hasn¡¯t changed at all. When you live on the streets, you¡¯ll need to get your hands dirty and earn your own keep. If you don¡¯t repay your debts, no one will look out for you. Wretches like us have nothing to offer, after all."


    Vale fell silent, Shiver seemingly having struck a chord. She sighed, squatting next to Vale, noticing a curious lack of protesting or fresh tears.


    Perhaps there was hope for her after all. She has grit.


    Shiver nodded briskly and walked towards the pit wall.


    "Why are you doing this? Why bother helping me in the first place?"


    In response, Shiver picked up a tiny crab that squirmed between her fingers.


    "You¡¯re like this crab."


    Vale simply raised one of her frustratingly well-defined eyebrows.


    "Helpless and squirming in the mud."


    Shiver shot Princess Penelope a deferential bow as she noticed a certain pink ribbon drawing inconspicuously closer, a claw raised in protest. Her highness didn¡¯t squirm, she glided.


    Vale just sighed, seeming to understand she wasn¡¯t getting anything more substantial out of her. Shiver clapped her hands together.


    "Now! Let¡¯s get to work shall we. Your first task, is to catch thirty-five of those whiteshell crabs over there."


    Shiver pointed to a white crab cautiously watching them while it stood immobile.


    "¡­with my hands?"


    "Yep. Well, go on."


    After a pause, Vale crept up to the crab hesitantly, letting out a yelp as the grab demonstrated surprising dexterity and speed, scuttling out of her reach as she came within grabbing distance.


    Turning to express her frustration at Shiver, she noticed Pincer walk into the tent, crab swinging in hand.


    "Done with yer speech are ye? This one took to it quick, maybe there¡¯s hope yet ay?"


    "You do this to the other orphans? You- you devil!"


    Shiver looked at her aghast.


    "Do this to them? Nightmares, no. They all receive fair compensation."


    The old man chuckled, looking affectionately at his crabs. He was carrying a folding chair which he snapped open, placing at the edge of the pit. Shiver promptly leapt out of the pit and into the chair.


    "The usual Shiv?"


    "I can always depend on you Pince."


    "Aye, aye. Thought you¡¯d like one. Here ya go."


    Shiver promptly stuck the popsicle Pincer produced into her mouth, lounging on the chair. Vale sputtered, turning hesitantly to the crabs. There was no reasoning with Shiver and she knew it.


    Vale rounded on the whitecrab again, running at it to no avail.


    "Maybe you should try another strategy! Acting like a crab worked really well for me."


    "Aye Shiver, yer make an irresistible crab."


    Shiver beamed at Pince.


    It was going to be a long day.


    ----


    "Careful of Richard! He packs a pinch."


    The sun was setting, casting a beautiful orange glow into the tent and onto the gigantic soldiercrab that had emerged from his slumber. Vale also noticed for the first time how the glow of the sun took on a distinctly crab-like orange hue when it was setting. She was slowly slipping into crab-filled insanity.


    "Oh and Penelope gets sassy if you get too close to her hut. Princesses, am I right?"


    Vale was on her final catch now. After changing tack multiple times and getting pinched double that, she had finally found a reliable way to round up the whitecrabs. Cornering them after tiring them out had worked, not that Shiver had helped in the slightest. They seemed to be wary of the larger soldercrabs like Richard¨C a fear she shared ¨C which she used to her advantage when cornering them. Her legs burned and her fingers were marred with cuts and bruises from outraged crustaceans.


    Picking up the last crab breathlessly, and ignoring its errant pinching, Vale lobbed it at Shiver, who deftly caught it, binding its claws and placing it in a crate beside her.


    Expecting more ridicule, she was surprised when Shiver instead extended her some water and a smile. Her tummy grumbled as she struggled to climb out of the pit.


    Shiver led her to a bucket of cold water and a tattered curtain in the corner of the pit, but Vale was too tired and relieved to protest. Pince was nowhere to be seen, so she promptly removed her clothes and washed off the mud that was drying, wincing at the cold. She clumsily poured the water over her, and gritting her teeth as she put back on her mud-covered clothing. Shiver hummed to herself.


    Not what I expected. She adapts quickly.


    "All done?"


    "Now, time to catch ol¡¯ Richard!"


    Vale¡¯s tears started flowing.


    "There there¡­ I was just joking. It¡¯s time for me to earn my keep now. We both have to atone after all."


    She grabbed some coils of rope resting on the fence and leapt straight into the crab pit, approaching Richard with care. Vale watched on with wide eyes. She had made sure to give the gargantuan crab a wide berth, using him strategically to catch the smaller whitecrabs. She drew closer with confidence, bending her knees and staying on the balls of her feet as she came within Richard¡¯s reach.


    All of Vale¡¯s chasing made the mud more uneven than it had been originally.


    Shiver paid the slippery, uneven surface no heed.


    "Sorry big guy, Marta¡¯s hungry."


    She lunged, pivoting fluidly as she dodged a furious pincer. Vale had no doubt that a single ¡°pinch¡± from Richard would leave bones broken. Shiver leapt behind the crab, demonstrating impressive agility, driving the helpless crab headfirst into the mud. She wasted no time securing one of his pincers before he managed to break free. His remaining pincer shot forward in an attempt to crush Shiver¡¯s skull. With a flick of her foot, she sent him off course and flying back-first into the mud.


    Richard helplessly struggled as ten of his armored feet scythed the air before him. Vale shuddered at the sight while Shiver fearlessly placed a foot in the center of his body to hold him down while securing his remaining pincer. Out of danger, Shiver tied him up more securely, and hefted him onto her shoulder ¨C a feat she would thought impossible for the lean girl. Princess Penelope scuttled about helplessly in anger and rage as her greatest knight was unceremoniously lifted out of the pit to meet his grueling fate at the foot of Marta¡¯s dining table.


    Shiver shot the gaping Vale a wink. She had taken care of that monster almost instantly.


    "Excited to have crab for dinner?"

 Chapter 7: Dinner and Despair

    Shiver hefted Richard on her back. Vale looked on in amazement at her strong strides, unimpeded by the weight of the gigantic soldiercrab as they made their way back to Marta and Pov¡¯s home.


    "So tell me, princess. One gets curious, why did you run away?"


    Vale choked and stumbled.


    "You know, Shiver¡­ I was a lady. Calling me princess is entirely inacc-"


    "You know your highness, I¡¯ve always wondered about runaway lords and ladies. I¡¯m sure the slums have their own sort of appeal, or ¡°romance" one might say¡­"


    She shot Vale a look of appraisal.


    "No¡­ You don¡¯t look like the romantic type. Must be something else. What could be so compelling that you would run away from your luxurious life-"


    "I would have you know! I am plenty romantic."


    "There¡¯s only one thing I can think of really, what everyone assumes. You don¡¯t want to be a Fearshaper?"


    Vale missed a step and stumbled. Her expression darkened at the mention of that word. Shiver¡¯s grey eyes were alight as they met Vale¡¯s own.


    "Frankly, if that was the reason, I wouldn¡¯t blame you. Us common folk down here don¡¯t know much about Fearshaping. But you hear whispers of noble families inducing a particular Fear in their children. Not to mention, the whole bringing your nightmares into reality thing doesn¡¯t sound particularly¡­ fulfilling."


    Vale let out a hollow laugh. She overtook Shiver and continued down the road. Before turning to stop. With the setting of the sun, the fishermen by the port had packed up their stands. The streets lay barren, and the lavaways lit up the streets in a soft orange glow. She traced Shiver¡¯s gaze, which was directed at the upper circles of Brimstone. High above the slums. The domain of the nobility, the Brimstone family, wealthier merchants and traders.


    Finally, she broke the silence between them.


    "You¡¯re not that far off. The ability to manifest your Fear is a double-edged sword. Not everyone wants the risk, or the power itself."


    "Hm."


    They continued onward to Marta and Pov¡¯s crabs in hand.


    As the distance lengthened between them, Vale whispered under her breath.


    "Especially when you have a Fear like mine."


    ---


    The walk back to Pov and Marta¡¯s house was subdued.


    Vale seemed to be coming to terms with her new life. She was hardly in a mood to volunteer anything more of herself to Shiver, understandably so.


    After all, she had crushed her trust and thrown her in a crab pit.


    Understandable.


    Many orphans and urchins who had also gone through the trial of crabs had fared much worse. Vale was resilient for all that she whined and complained. It didn¡¯t matter that it had taken her the better part of the day to round up a couple of crabs, she had stayed her course. Shiver might make something of her yet. For now though, the girl only stalked behind her silently.


    As they drew closer to the house, Shiver halted at the threshold, stopping at the edge of the shadows. It was dangerously inviting, each and every time. The warmth that emanated from Pov and Marta¡¯s home.


    There was a reason she had refused all of their invitations to dinner. She knew that they cared for her. Knew that they wanted to free her from that Fear-damned cave of hers, to give her hope for a proper life. With them.


    Shiver crossing the threshold, her knuckles white as she clenched them. Vale looked on quizzically.


    "Vale, Shiver! There you are! You disappeared and Pov didn¡¯t say a wor-"


    Marta¡¯s eyes widened as she spotted the soldiercrab Shiver hefted on her back. The girl avoided her eyes, a gentle blush reaching her pale cheeks. Marta just pulled the pair of them into a warm hug. Vale¡¯s eyes moistened with guilt.


    "You got my favourite!"


    Silence pervaded between them, only for Marta to smother it with hearty laughter.


    "Well then! This specimen isn¡¯t going to cook itself, is it? Let¡¯s get to work!"


    ---


    Vale¡¯s eyes widened at the bounty of food laid out on the table before them.


    "All this food? Uh¡­"


    Her glance lingered suspiciously on Marta just a moment too long, provoking loud laughter from Shiver and Marta alike.


    "Girl, I promise yer, it won¡¯t all be going into my here belly."


    The towering woman broke into a soft smile.


    "Take some back to the orphanage, won¡¯t you?"


    "She¡¯s annoying like that. Too generous."


    Shiver tried and failed to avoid Marta¡¯s immense hand as she ruffled the girl¡¯s ash-white hair.


    "Pov! Would ya look at this here right unit! Never seen a soldiercrab like him. How did you think they managed it?"


    Richard¡¯s carapace had turned a mouth-watering shade of orange, the colour of a well-cooked crab. Steam and a delightful aroma emanated from his place at the center of the table.


    As he entered the kitchen, Pov¡¯s eyes went wide at the sight of a soldiercrab the size of himself.


    "Well done Vale! When Shiver went through her trial, all she had to show for it was old Penelope."


    "Princess Penelope? She¡¯s- but she¡¯s still around!"


    Marta let out a bellow of a laugh that gently shook the room. Shiver looked mildly offended at how entertained she was.


    "She was tiny, there was no getting any meat out of her. Pince decided to keep her as a pet, a reminder of Shiver¡¯s ¡°big catch¡±."


    Shiver let out a snort. She walked over to the kitchen knife stand and licked her lips in anticipation, shooting a deliberate glance at Vale. The girl looked at her flatly, returning a look of mild disgust at the orphan¡¯s antics. Shiver withdrew a cleaver and expertly started hacking away at Richard¡¯s joints legs.


    "Why don¡¯t you go have a proper bath, eh Shiver? You stink."


    "I don¡¯t need a ba-"


    "Yes, you do, young lady. Off with you."


    Marta easily pried the cleaver away from Shiver at the shared amusement of Vale and Pov. She stalked away to the bathroom. The short elf walked up to her with a warm smile.


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    "I hope she didn¡¯t pick on you too much, Vale? She might look¡­ frosty on the outside, but she¡¯s got a good heart if you look closely enough."


    "Perhaps I just haven¡¯t gotten a close enough look."


    Pov and Marta shared a hearty chuckle.


    "You know, we¡¯ve tried convincing her to stay with us from the time she was a wee kid, when we found her. She was never willing to join us. She never even stayed for a meal."


    Vale nodded. At first, she would have assumed that the girl¡¯s pride would not have permitted it. Now, it was clearer to her that she had likely been reluctant to rely on Pov and Marta. Marta confirmed her assumptions.


    "I know what you¡¯re thinking, it wasn¡¯t only because of her pride. She certainly has a strong sense of it, but she didn¡¯t want us to be worse off. She knows struggle. She¡¯s also one of the only few older orphans that have stuck around, still inducting the young ones. Preparing them for the life ahead of them."


    Pov¡¯s voice lowered to a hush.


    "They found her in a cave outside Brimstone. She was abandoned there, to the cold. It¡¯s where she stays, to this day."


    Vale drew in a breath. Pov gave her wink.


    "It didn¡¯t come from us. She¡¯d have our hides if she found that we told you."


    "Pov you¡¯ve talked her ear off and the night hasn¡¯t even started! Go have a warm bath, Vale. Leave the rest to me, eh?"


    Vale excused herself and headed to the bathroom. Her respect for Shiver had grown a sliver after Pov and Marta¡¯s testimonies.


    Underneath her frosty interior was a girl with resilience the likes of which she hadn¡¯t seen before.


    The warmth of this place was undeniable. It wouldn¡¯t be long before it began to feel like home, especially to a young orphan with no one looking out for them. Shiver had refused that temptation, out of concern for them. You had to respect the-


    Vale met with a face full of warm water as she opened the door to the bath. Water spattered all around her, some of it escaping into the hallway. Droplets dripped idly from Vale¡¯s hair as she stared at Shiver, who wore a distinct look of satisfaction on her face.


    "You were asking for it princess. You certainly don¡¯t smell like royalty. Had to be done."


    I take everything back.


    ---


    "You thought I was a smith? Can you believe it Pov!"


    Marta¡¯s laughed as Vale withdrew into herself, smothering her red face in her hands.


    "I can¡¯t see it, can you Shiver?"


    "Not at all, look at how delicate she is!"


    Marta posed, putting a hand under a chin, shooting a wink at Vale.


    "I¡¯m so sorry."


    Pov, who was seated next to her patted her on the back reassuringly with a laugh.


    "We¡¯re only teasing Vale. When Marta first approached me, I thought the end of my days had arrived."


    "I¡¯m surprised you¡¯ve lasted for so long, my love."


    Marta shamelessly shot a wink at her husband who reacted with a laugh. Shiver, whose cheeks bulged as she chewed up Richard together with the range of other vegetables, interjected.


    "Wha were hose arshefacts yesferday, Martaugh?"


    "Swallow your food before you talk Shiver, it¡¯s unbecoming of a lady."


    "Shays yu!"


    Marta sighed, resigned to the lost cause that Shiver was. Then her expression darkened, as her thoughts returned to the previous night.


    "Those artefacts¡­ They carry powerful curses. You noticed it yourself, didn¡¯t you?"


    Shiver nodded, gulping down her food.


    "When I got near them, I felt something like¡­"


    "Your Fear."


    Marta nodded, idly mixing her food, her eyes far away.


    "The answer is¡­ we suspect them to be the Phobias of fallen Fearshapers."


    "Phobias?"


    Marta nodded solemnly.


    "The tool of a Fearshaper. A physical reflection of their Fear, that they wield. They¡¯re potent. If you don¡¯t handle them carefully, they¡¯re deadly enough to kill. At best, an elf without a Fear would walk away with a new one."


    Marta exchanged an expression with Pov.


    "I first chanced upon one on the road back to Brimstone, an hourglass. This one was weaker than the others, but its effect¡­"


    Vale gulped as she thought back to the dagger that had sat in Aveline¡¯s vault.


    Its nature was redoubtable.


    "I thought it an ordinary hourglass, until I put it on this here dining table of ours. And noticed that anything close to it didn¡¯t age."


    "Impossible."


    "Whatever these artefacts are¡­ House Brimstone has ordered their immediate surrender if they¡¯re discovered. They¡¯ve outright banned their retrieval. Those codgers at the librarium are spineless, they cowed to Brimstone. Something¡¯s off about them eh? And I¡¯m no coward."


    Vale was inclined to agree. Marta took a bite of her food, raising her eyes to meet Shiver¡¯s,


    "Just like you, I heard whispers that Aveline Veringold had collected some in secret. Girl¡¯s a lot like you, Shiv. When I heard they had caught you, I knew exactly what it would take. I¡¯d rather my findings ended up in her hands than those usless chickenhearts at the librarium."


    Marta took another large bite of the crab and chewed with surprising grace.


    "It¡¯s also a mystery why there are so many of them around Brimstone. Perhaps the result of a war long forgotten."


    A comfortable silence drew out before them as they partook in the meal. As Vale¡¯s eyes passed over Shiver, she realized that the girl had grown noticeably tense.


    "Marta, Pov."


    Shiver¡¯s voice shook as it cut through the gentle clatter of cutlery. Marta and Pov paused and directed their attention at the orphan.


    "Thank you for yesterday. We¡¯re sorry¡­ for you know."


    Marta¡¯s smile prompted a blush to rise on Shiver¡¯s cheeks. Vale stared in amazement. She never thought she¡¯d see the day. She inclined her head to Pov.


    "Don¡¯t you worry yourself. Pov here was raised on the streets himself. He¡¯s told me about the struggle. Of all the people you could go for, the guild has generous coffers. House Brimstone keeps them full."


    Shiver continued to avoid the woman¡¯s gaze. A hint of mischief entered into Marta¡¯s eyes.


    "But you didn¡¯t think a single dinner would make up for it, did you?"


    Shiver froze, her eyes widening. A look of desperation filled her face.


    "We¡¯ll- we¡¯ll do whatever it takes-"


    "Oh, hush Shiv, I¡¯m teasing ya!"


    Vale felt an odd sense of satisfaction seeing the usually unflappable, sassy orphan without a reply.


    "It would go a long way if you stayed with us a while."


    Marta delivered her offer like the strike from a blademaster, with a manufactured nonchalance. Vale could tell, for she saw the beginnings of tears in the gargantuan¡¯s woman¡¯s kind eyes. The offer made so casually, yet the weight behind it was unquestionable. Shiver¡¯s expression grew conflicted. Marta continued gently, undeterred by the myriad of emotions displayed on the orphan¡¯s face.


    "We have the means. We¡¯ve saved. It would mean the world to us, eh Pov?"


    Pov¡¯s eyes held his response, unequivocal to all of them.


    Shiver lowered her gaze, her voice a whisper.


    "I¡¯m all grown now. Better one of the younger ones. They need it more than me."


    Silence echoed throughout the dining table.


    "Nonsense."


    Shiver¡¯s head rose.


    "You¡¯re a daughter to us. You¡¯ve always been. The younger ones will have you looking out for them. We won¡¯t change our minds. Eh Pov?"


    "Couldn¡¯t have put it better myself."


    Vale glimpsed tears in Shiver¡¯s eyes which the girl quickly swiped away. She saw the corners of her smile twitch involuntarily as she attempted to steel her features. Vale¡¯s own thoughts turned to her own family, tears finally reaching her own.


    I miss them.


    Frantic knocking echoed from the hallway, shattering the peaceful silence of the moment. As well as the sounds of a young boy¡¯s shouts.


    "I-I¡¯ll get it."


    Shiver croaked out a response, and shot from her chair, as if relieved by the interruption.


    "Shiver."


    The girl halted in her tracks.


    "Do what you have to do. Then come home, alright?"


    Vale hid a smile.


    Checkmate, Shiver.


    Tears did fall from her eyes then, as she ran into the hallway to open the door.


    She was glad no one was there to see them.


    Wiping them away, she cleared her throat and opened the door, to find one of the little orphans waiting anxiously outside.


    "Dusty, you couldn¡¯t wait? You know that I¡¯ll bring the food over once the mister and missus have had their dinner."


    Dusty shook his head, his eyes filled with¡­Fear?


    "No Miss Shiver! Dag came around asking after Blaze, saying he¡¯d heard her running her mouth about some robbery. He wanted to speak to her, but Mother booted him out. Then this noble came in and kicked us out. He¡¯s hurting Blaze!"


    Shiver cursed, gritting her teeth.


    "I swear little firefly, what have I told you about keeping that mouth of yours shut."


    She called out towards the dining room. Her voice was still unsteady.


    "Marta, Pov! I need to settle some things, don¡¯t wait up!"


    The bigger they are the harder they fall.


    Not an expression for an orphan they said.


    Yet even orphans were graced with rare moments of serenity that made them feel like the peer of any Highlord or noble.


    And how they despaired when those few moments of peace inevitably ran their course.


    With her eyes finally devoid of tears, rage took their place.


    "Let¡¯s go."

 Chapter 8: Violence

    A snowstorm raged silently against Brimstone¡¯s invisible barrier which guarded the Archcity from the biting cold.


    Despite the storm outside, the streets were deathly quiet.


    Shiver heard an unfamiliar man¡¯s voice as she approached the orphanage door. It sounded nothing like Dag. It had a nasal quality to it, carrying the arrogance of nobility.


    There was no sign of Dag or any of his thugs. Shiver took the young orphan by the shoulders, whispering over the dull howls of the snowstorm outside the city.


    "Wait here Dusty. Something¡¯s wrong."


    Peeking through the door, Shiver stared into the dark orphanage. She noticed it was empty, but for two figures.


    Blaze, on the floor and a man that towered over her.


    It took all of her willpower to stop herself from rushing to intervene immediately, taking stock of the situation instead.


    Blaze had a split lip, and the beginnings of a bruise over her right eye. Yet despite her sorry state, she looked up at the figure without fear.


    That¡¯s my firefly.


    However, Shiver¡¯s brief sense of pride was quickly replaced by worry when the figure crouched over her.


    "So, you were the little rascal that dared to steal from me. Can you even begin to comprehend the embarrassment you¡¯ve caused me?"


    [Vines of the flickerroot]


    Shiver recoiled in shock, just barely concealing her gasp. As the man uttered those words, she felt a brief flash of Fear. Not because he currently held Blaze suspended in the orphanage, at his mercy.


    But a Fear towards plants. She felt a sensation of roots spreading within her, inching their way through veins and arteries. Then in a moment, the sensation disappeared.


    It felt akin to her Fear of ice. The words he uttered held power within them, the elf¡¯s Fear made manifest.


    Fearshaper. A lord.


    Innumerable vines sprouted from the floorboards of the orphanage in an instant, encircling Blaze¡¯s limbs. The girl let out a yelp, her eyes widening in fear as the vines carried her higher.


    Shiver wasted no time. She moved silently, taking advantage of the man¡¯s preoccupation with his tirade ¨C a sickly gleam in his eyes.


    "You haven¡¯t paid for your crimes, girl. A thief? Let me strip you of your skin-"


    Shiver twisted her torso, winding up for a kick, which lashed out squarely across the man¡¯s right knee. His leg bent at an unnatural angle with a snap, immediately followed by his screams which Shiver immediately muffled by stuffing his cloak in his mouth. Before he could react, Shiver grabbed onto his head, and used his momentum to slam him to the ground as he lost his balance.


    The vines holding Blaze flickered out of existence and Blaze fell to the ground in a small thump. She rose, rubbing at her elbow, that had come in contact with the ground.


    "Run! You know where."


    "B-"


    "NOW!"


    The man seemed dazed from Shiver¡¯s surprise assault, but he locked eyes with her. Taking in his features for the first time, it was undoubtedly the man that Blaze had pickpocketed the night before.


    "Wh-what are-"


    Shiver drove her foot into his broken knee with all of the force and weight she could muster, repeatedly slamming it into the floorboards below. Then she drove her fist into his face, her hands becoming slick his blood as his nose gave way.


    Orphans didn¡¯t fight fair.


    The man¡¯s screams redoubled, until his head lolled back, passing out from the pain. Shiver cursed, fully appreciating the gravity of her actions.


    The man was a lord.


    The ability to command plants was the signature ability of Fearshapers of House Flora. She was in trouble. Lots of it. She tried to focus. The orphanage was quiet ¨C Mother Ventra had likely been ordered or coerced to take the children elsewhere. She might have been a Tranquility addict but she cared for charges. If she had endangered Blaze, there would be hell to pay.


    Shiver ran to Blaze¡¯s bed, finding her belongings splayed out on her bed. They had clearly been searched. So had Blaze¡¯s little hidey hole where she had stashed the man¡¯s purse.


    Scooping up whatever was left of Vale¡¯s belongings, she ran out of the orphanage calling to Dusty, leaving the injured and disfigured lord in her wake.


    ---


    She found Blaze and Vale at Marta and Pov¡¯s residence. Marta was nursing Blaze¡¯s wounds when Shiver burst into the house.


    "Shiver!"


    Little Blaze was the first to cry out, tearing away from Marta to envelop her in a hug. She was crying, no doubt unhappy to have involved the older orphan. Shiver shushed her gently, trying to calm her down.


    "What happened firefly?"


    "I¡¯m s-sorry Shiver. He came alone. He forced Mother Ventra and the others to leave. When she refused, he hit her. He said he would do it again if the person that took his pouch didn¡¯t own up to it. Then he hit her again."


    She looked just about ready to burst into tears again.


    "She fell to the ground and¡­ I confessed."


    Shiver gave her a quick squeeze, looking to the others. Pov had a frown on his face, and he was pacing back and forth. Marta gently attempted to separate Blaze from Shiver to resume her treatment. Vale was staring at Shiver with a look of horror. Looking down, she noticed that her hands were covered in the lord¡¯s blood.


    That would do it. I practically smashed his head in.


    Shiver looked at Pov, whose forehead was creased in concentration.


    "He was a lord. House Flora."


    He nodded decisively.


    "Shiver, you need to leave the city for a couple of days, at least until things calm down. He may be a foreign lord but a slight to his ego from an orphan isn¡¯t something he would forget lightly. Take Vale with you and some food, lay low. Blaze needs treatment and it¡¯s best she stays with us for the time being. Marta, head over to the others. Bring the food."


    Blaze protested.


    "No! I¡¯m going with Shiv-"


    Marta interceded, laying a palm on Blaze¡¯s head gently. She spoke kindly but firmly, in a way that had prevailed over a younger, and even more rebellious Shiver.


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    "Little one, you¡¯re terribly hurt. I know you¡¯re a brave, capable girl, but if you follow them out of the city you¡¯ll be more of a burden than a help. You¡¯ll be staying with me for a while, ok?"


    Tears streamed down Blaze¡¯s face.


    "I¡¯m s-sor-"


    Shiver spoke with similar kindness and firmness.


    "Blaze. You have nothing to apologise for. I¡¯m proud of you for owning up, even when it was scary. If you hadn¡¯t, who knows what the lord would have done."


    Looking at Blaze more closely, she realised that her injuries were more extensive than she had initially thought. A purple bruise spread around Blaze¡¯s eye, and a deep gash ran down the side of her head. It would likely leave a scar. Shiver felt a deep pang of guilt.


    And rage at the lord for what he had done to her.


    "If anything¡­ It was my fault for teaching you how to steal."


    Pov interceded before Shiver could self-mutilate herself with the guilt that had been building since she had glimpsed Blaze at the feet of that lord.


    "And if you had not done so, then both of you would have starved long ago. Orphans need to survive by any means they can, I would know. That Fearshaper was a chickenheart for beating Blaze within an inch of her life. If you hadn¡¯t stopped him, Blaze might not have made it."


    His conviction only doubled her guilt. Dread washed over her like ice as she realized, she had gotten Pov and Marta involved.


    Again.


    Shiver gripped Pov¡¯s shoulders.


    "Both of you, leave this to me. Don¡¯t intervene, it¡¯ll only put you at ris-"


    "Hush Shiver."


    She turned helplessly to Marta.


    "Please Marta."


    Marta just shook her head with her frustratingly familiar smile. Her shoulders shrunk. She knew them, where they could help, they did. It was what they had done for her.


    Pov turned to Vale.


    "Vale you need to leave the city with Shiver. I¡¯ll link up with you in a few days, until then, stay in that ¡°mansion¡± of hers."


    Pov shot Shiver a wink, an attempt at levity that Shiver did not have the presence of mind to appreciate.


    Shiver schooled her expression. Saluting with an easy grin, a difficult lie, she grabbed Vale by the arm.


    "You got it boss! Take care, little firefly. No sad excuse for a lord is going to catch me. I¡¯ll see you in a few days Pov, bring the popsicles."


    Shiver grabbed a bundle of food that Marta thrust into her hands. She turned abruptly and stalked out of the house, dragging Vale with her, the girl letting out a yelp.


    It was her fault they were in this mess. She had put them at risk again.


    So, she was going to fix it.


    Herself.


    ---


    House Flora. The ¡°Providers¡±.


    An illustrious title given to the noble family that fed every elven city. He was one of the sons of the legendary Highlady Solastra Flora - the Kindly Gardener. His mother¡¯s Fearshaping gave their House unsurpassed control over all sorts of plants and vegetation.


    And yet, Lord Semille Flora lay bleeding on the floor of an orphanage, foiled by filthy orphans.


    Not only had he dealt with the embarrassment of facing Highlord Berevan empty-handed, his delivery stolen.


    When he had tried to obtain justice, that Fear-damned orphan girl broke his nose, making him pass out in his own piss.


    "My lord."


    Lord Semille¡¯s ¡°faithful¡± knights of the Dreadwood knelt before him, silent and ashamed. He couldn¡¯t see their faces ¨C their impermeable visors guarded them from his scrutiny. Their armour were relics of House Flora granted to only their finest, made of brown writhing root and vine, restless for blood.


    An impressive sight. As a young lord he had longed to be granted his own.


    Yet the armour that enshrouded him did not belong to him. His mother, in all of her profound wisdom, had not judged him as worthy. The armour belonged to one of his knights, and as the roots and vines encircled him, he felt his wounds close at an incredible rate, his vitality returning to him.


    Had he completed the delivery successfully, his grandmother would have had no basis to refuse the grant of his own armour. He was a Fearshaper, Feardammit. Yet even with all of his authority and power, he had failed to enact vengeance on the dirty orphan that had caused this inconvenience.


    No matter that he had beat her from an inch of her life, it was a pity that the inch remained.


    Lord Semille sneered at his entourage.


    "Doing your job exceptionally well, gentlemen. First, you allow an orphan to take off with House Flora¡¯s delivery. Then, you abandon me, leaving me to be savagely beaten by the assailants who overwhelmed me. Ruining my chances of becoming a Knight of the Dreadwood. You are a shame on the name of my House."


    "We beg your forgiveness my lord. Had you informed us that you had departed to retrieve the package-"


    "Enough."


    Semille stood, brushing himself off, as if his dignity wasn¡¯t leaking from his trousers.


    Shiver would have been impressed with his sheer disregard for accountability.


    He ignored the Brimstone butler that attended them, Silas was like a leech that he couldn¡¯t shake, and he had arrived at the first sign of commotion. He silently watched Lord Semille, judging him, no doubt eager to return to his Highlord to share the scene with him.


    The thought only served to infuriate Semille further.


    He turned to the one man he could trust.


    "It looks like I will have to rely on more competent and reliable people than you to hold my assailants accountable."


    The thug Dag shot him a smile, cutting through the dark like a half-moon.


    Dag was all bark. Everyone worth their salt knew that it was the dogs that never uttered a sound that you watched out for. But he was a useful tool, and he surprisingly saw eye-to-eye with the lord. No matter that he had attempted to rob him, talent appeared in the most unexpected of places.


    "Of course, milord, we just so ¡®appened to witness where the problematic orphans absconded to. They sought refuge at the Trobid¡¯s ¨C Marta, a giantess of a woman, and Poverty, her husband ¨C a lower circle merchant."


    He nodded.


    "They¡¯re sympathetic to the dirty lass responsible for your injuries. Shiver is her name."


    Dag¡¯s smile gleamed in the glow of the lavaways, as her turned to Lord Semille and his entourage.


    "Worry not milord, leave it to us to hold them accountable."


    The thug looked at his knights with a sad expression, pitying them for their supposed failure.


    Semille returned a vicious smile.


    "No, no. Where would be the fun in that? Get the girl. Then we¡¯ll hold them to account for their crimes, together. I wouldn¡¯t want to miss out on the fun, gentlemen."


    Dag beamed, falling into a sweeping bow.


    This was a man you could depend on.


    ---


    Snow fell in droves. The gale howled outside the city boundaries, and two elven girls covered their faces as they fought against the snowstorm. It was ironic that it was the snow and the cold ¨C the objects of her Fear ¨C that saved Shiver from any snarky comments that Vale saw fit to make.


    Every time the girl opened her mouth, she was met with a mouthful of snow that left her spluttering.


    After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached her ¡°mansion¡±. The familiar dark cave, bereft of all possessions but the barest of necessities. In their rush from the city, she hadn¡¯t thought to ask Marta for an extra sleeping roll for Vale.


    Fortunately for her, she wouldn¡¯t need it.


    "A-ah I s-see, is this your home, S-shiver? It is¡­ compact. Traps the h-heat better, right?"


    Vale made a genuine attempt to find something to compliment, despite her shivering.


    Shiver just sighed, though she appreciated the girl¡¯s attempt. Maybe that uppity lady did have the capacity for empathy ¨C not that she was one to judge after the grueling day Shiver had put her through.


    "L-lovely, lovely. Could you kindly point me in the direction of my c-cave?"


    "W-what? Your Cave?"


    The girl glanced at her uncertainly, her lavender eyes wide.


    "Was that your attempt at humour?"


    She shuffled uncomfortably.


    "Oh, come now, it wasn¡¯t that bad¡­"


    Shiver let out a snort.


    "Haa¡­ that was a good one. You¡¯re not that terrible, my lady."


    High praise, coming from her. Shiver motioned to the sleeping roll.


    "Help yourself to my luxurious, warm bed. There are still a couple of things I need to settle. I¡¯ll join you later."


    The girl nodded tiredly, slipping into the bedroll with a yawn. She shot Shiver a pained smile, a look that was hard to unpack.


    "Hey Shiver"


    "Yeah?"


    "Thanks."


    "What for?"


    "I¡¯m glad we did something for Marta and Pov, they¡¯re good people."


    Vale looked like she was hesitating, as if she had more to say. Eventually though, she turned away, curling up into a ball in an attempt to ward off the cold.


    Not so bad after all.

 Chapter 9: The Fall

    Shiver walked straight out into the storm.


    Each time the bitter cold wrought itself across her skin, she felt her heart begin to race, and breathing grow laboured.


    Her Fear attempted to draw away her attention in other ways. The ice shades this time took the form of Blaze, Marta and Pov. Frozen blood dripped from hollow eye sockets, and they sported melancholy grins as they trailed behind her.


    How unimaginative.


    They were just products of her mind, far from the harbingers of death her Fear would have her believe. Now that Vale was safe, she needed to-


    No ¨C how?


    Nausea overwhelmed her as she recognized figures in the distance heading straight towards her.


    The only people that knew of the cave were Marta and Pov-


    She felt numb. Had they gotten to them? What more could she do? She could handle two or three but she stood no chance against four, five, no six of Dag¡¯s thugs that she could see. She needed to draw them away from the cave.


    She had no doubt that the figures had spotted her, and the only thing she could do was create a sense of urgency to divert them. Maybe she would be able to lose them in the snowstorm and circle them back to the city?


    No ¨C if she did so, Dag would send some of his men to the cave to grab her when she returned, and they would find Vale.


    She had to give them an opportunity they couldn¡¯t resist.


    She stumbled, clutching her side, feigning injury. Her nails bit into her palm, drawing blood. She realised that the lord¡¯s blood was still on her hands. She marked her mouth with it, to give them the impression that she was in a much poorer state than she was.


    Betraying no indication that she had spotted them, she stalked around the mountain towards a frozen lake that lay in a small grove of trees. True to her assumption, Dag knew that he had the advantage when he saw her limping and clutching at her side, seemingly unaware of their presence. He called on his lackeys to follow him, circling around and cutting her off as they walked onto the frozen lake.


    "What a coincidence Shiv, nice to see you. You alright there? Looking a little unsteady."


    Dag approached, with many of the men that had accompanied him for his attempted robbery of the carriage. She coughed, licking the blood close to her mouth, drawing their attention to it.


    "Boys, we¡¯re gentlemen. Give the lady a hand."


    While he was as dull as a courtesan¡¯s used razor, even a dull blade could cut.


    As they closed in on her, she stumbled back, falling onto the surface of the frozen lake and slipping away from them. Two men stepped unsteadily towards her on the frozen surface. Dag, confident and at ease, motioned for the rest of his men to encircle her on the lake. He was complacent, maybe she had a chance.


    She crouched down, as if doubling over in pain, and when the two extended their arms out to grab her, she struck.


    Her leg shot out, hooking one of the elves at his ankle, making him tumble into his partner. Shiver lunged, accustomed to the icy surface of the lake. Her familiarity of the terrain was her only advantage ¨C a meager one compared to their numbers.


    The look of shock on Dag¡¯s face was priceless, but it was brief. He recovered quickly, regaining his swagger as the rest of his men collectively surrounded her.


    "Always feisty and full of surprises, you are. Finally, the Feardamned little ice devil I know emerges."


    Shiver shot back a retort, keeping his approaching lackeys in her periphery.


    "Speaking of surprises, I¡¯m stunned to see you standing after getting squashed by your master¡¯s carriage last night. Somehow it actually managed to improve your looks."


    Dag¡¯s face darkened, self-consciously raising a hand to his recently broken nose. She looked to the others.


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    "And you lads are looking an awful lot confident after letting your peers die to some plants. Not only that, you sold out to the lord that murdered them. Must be fee-"


    Midway through her sentence, Shiver broke into a sprint, sliding between two of the lackeys blocking Dag. Catching him offguard, she used the same tack to hook his ankle and bring him to the ice. Not wasting a moment, she slammed her fist into his already broken nose.


    She didn¡¯t fight fair.


    But neither did they.


    Recovering quickly, Dag¡¯s men leapt onto Shiver, knocking her off their boss. One especially burly one held her in a lock, and she sank her teeth into his forearm, kicking wildly. The lock held.


    Spitting out a wad of blood, Dag shot her a bloody grin. But knowing how tenuous his advantage was, he wasted no time.


    "Search her belongings."


    One of the younger elves ¨C he must¡¯ve been around her age, ruffled through her satchel. He retrieved her unfinished loaf of moldy bread, holding it aloft.


    "She¡¯s got nothing else on her sir."


    Wait a minute¡­ She recognized that voice.


    "Areld? Smith boy?"


    The boy refused to meet her eyes.


    It was him. The boy with a crush on her. How precious. Oh, how Pov would flip at the sight of this. Laughs wracked her body, unsettling Dag and his henchmen.


    "Tell you what, shoot these two and I¡¯ll give you a kiss."


    She winked in his direction, shooting him a bloody grin. He blanched at the sight of her charming smile and started to shake.


    "Leave her to her damp bread. Never let it be said that we aren¡¯t generous men."


    Dag snatched the bag from Areld and threw it at her feet. He was just gloating now.


    "I¡¯d give that line a 5/10 Dag, you¡¯ve improved since yesterday."


    Shiver spat derisively.


    "Must be nice to have a fancy new employer to fund your new nose. All you have to do is a kill a dirty little orphan. Easy."


    A vein pulsed on Dag¡¯s forehead, grimacing at the accusatory looks from his men.


    "Look, you know as well as I do, we¡¯ve got to earn our gold somehow. Can¡¯t be picky. Areld, crossbow."


    "B-but sir, I thought we were bringing her to the lord?"


    "Want me to send a bolt between your legs boy? Perhaps it¡¯ll help you think straight. If we let our guard down for a second, she¡¯ll slit our throats, this one. We kill her here. Then we find that lord¡¯s package."


    Dag muttered under his breath.


    "Idiot didn''t even give us a description of it. What does he expect... Feardamned miracles?"


    The boy paled, avoiding eye contact with Shiver as he handed over a sleek crossbow which, from its make, was far out of Dag¡¯s paygrade.


    "How did you find me?"


    Dag scratched at his head sheepishly.


    "Surely you didn¡¯t think you could keep that cave of yours a secret? Half of the lower circle has heard your sob story, Areld took extra care in finding it! Isn¡¯t that right lad!"


    Despite his gloating, Dag began to shift his weight restlessly from one foot to another. He slowly noticed that his posse weren¡¯t united in their task. Killing another orphan in service of a lord? Those on the street helped one another. Most of them were orphans themselves.


    Shiver spat at the apologetic glimpses some of the men gave her.


    Feardamn their guilt.


    "Greld, if you would my good man."


    Greld, the muscled thug holding her in a lock, abruptly strengthened his grasp on her.


    "Sorry Shiv."


    A whisper from Greld. A small consolation. With a twinge of the trigger, Dag sent an arrow straight into her abdomen.


    So it¡¯s a slow death for me. Couldn¡¯t even aim straight to send me off with dignity.


    Or perhaps he was just too much of a coward to kill her outright.


    As the sound of their footsteps against the snow faded into the distance, she heard the sound of other footsteps approaching as the gale picked up. Her old friends, the band of merry frozen cadavers. Shiver chuckled, unable to move and bleeding out. She shut out the haunting figures that were slowly approaching.


    "I should at least go out with a full stomach."


    She crawled towards her bag. With all of her determination, she reached for the piece of mouldy bread that Dag had left for her. From the pouch that Blaze had lifted from the lord.


    She wouldn¡¯t be able to live with herself if she let it go to waste. Staring at her lifeblood leaking from her abdomen, she couldn¡¯t help but let out a laugh which nearly made her pass out from the pain.


    Then her fingers curled around something small. She drew her lips into a weak, bloody grin.


    "Guess I¡¯ll be eating better than I thought, though you¡¯re no replacement for Mr Popsicle. I¡¯ll be seeing you soon my love."


    She popped the ball of chocolate she had taken from Blaze as a tax for her feedback.


    Chewing, she immediately spat it out. It tasted nothing like chocolate. It was sour. It even gave the moldy bread a run for its money.


    Strangely enough, she resented that more than being cornered by Dag and his posse.


    She couldn¡¯t even enjoy her last snack?


    "Tastes worse than Avalkin¡¯s ars-"


    Darkness took hold of her.

 Chapter 10: Fearshaper

    Shiver opened her eyes with a gasp, staring at an unfamiliar wooden roof.


    "Oh my, what a surprise."


    A pause. Shiver continued to lie on the ground, unmoving.


    "Ahem."


    The voice seemed chagrined at Shiver¡¯s lack of response.


    The voice could wait for all she cared.


    She was dead.


    "Miss¡­ Shiver is it? Do get up. We haven¡¯t much time."


    "Do popsicles exist in the afterlife?"


    "What a curious preference. Don¡¯t you fear the cold?"


    Very few people had asked her about her curious habit of eating popsicles outright, prompting a chuckle from her. Most just brushed it off to her eccentricity. Others believed that it was her impressive appetite that made her impervious to the terror-inducing treats.


    "It¡¯s nice to be tormented on my own terms for a change, you know? Not to mention, I get to choose what flavour of torment I can expect to experience."


    She giggled at the groan her horrible pun elicited.


    "Well in that case, I do in fact have a popsicle for you. The best you might ever try."


    Shiver finally relented, sitting up with a smirk on her face. She opened her eyes.


    "You¡¯re on. I¡¯d like to see you beat Pov¡¯s-"


    As Shiver rose, she came face to face with a gigantic spider behind a tall mahogany desk.


    Her eyebrow twitched.


    He was at least double the height of Marta, and rested on sleek, black legs. The spider wore a tuxedo and sported four monocles over clusters of eyes that glinted with mischief. He looked dignified, giving Princess Penelope a serious run for her money.


    "Struck speechless by my good looks? I¡¯m hardly surprised."


    It looked like the spider was accustomed to her reaction.


    "Don¡¯t just sit there gaping. You don¡¯t see me making any comments about your pointy ears, do you?"


    Shiver continued to gape, the spider could be Feardamned.


    Sentient spiders?


    She had never heard of such a thing. She shuddered at the thought of Princess Penelope gaining sentience ¨C she would never recover from the sass.


    "Now, to business. I am the Matchmaker."


    Shiver groaned.


    "No please. Just send me to the afterlife. Anything but setting me up with someone. The last boy that liked me carried the crossbow that drove this arrow into me."


    She passed her hand over her abdomen but was surprised when she found no evidence of her injuries.


    The spider tapped the desk impatiently with all eight of his feet.


    "I would love to continue this delightful banter but we don¡¯t have much time. You¡¯re dying. But I¡¯m presenting you with an opportunity. One that I haven¡¯t had the pleasure of presenting to any other elves for¡­"


    The spider paused, seemingly frowning.


    "¡­a very long while. Curious indeed. No matter ¨C on to business."


    The spider crawled over her, grabbing her up in two of its legs. Caught up in the absurdity of the situation, she laid back and enjoyed the ride.


    After what seemed like an eternity, the Matchmaker set her down gently against a wall. He had carried her through a veritable maze of rooms, each of a different make. She spotted one that looked like it was made of molten rock. Another with walls of a grey sheen of metal, with blinking green lights throughout. It wasn¡¯t long before she shut her eyes in an attempt to stem the nausea from all of the swaying.


    The room they came upon however, made her breath catch. It looked like the heart of a glacier. She was boxed in by walls of dark ice.


    "You have the choice between three guides. Pick with care."


    The word ¡®guide¡¯ made her hair stand on edge. The only ¡°guides¡± she had ever heard of were the ancient creatures that were the companions of Fearshapers.


    "I thought guides were only reserved for Fearshapers. The nobility."


    The spider paused, staring at her. Then he seemed to start convulsing. Shiver frowned.


    "Are you¡­alright?"


    The spider continued to convulse until Shiver detected a soft chittering. Was the spider laughing?


    "Oh my, ¡°reserved for the gentry¡±? I haven¡¯t heard something so delightfully hilarious in an age!"


    Wiping innumerable tears from his multifaceted eyes, the Matchmaker patted her lightly on the shoulder.


    "Guides are not reserved for anyone, my dear Shiver. They guide Fearshapers, and Fearshaping is the right of every elf, my dear. How curious that you would think otherwise, though I fear we do not have any more time to explore this particular mystery in greater detail."


    Laid out in the center of the room of frost were a number of¡­ implements. Shiver supposed they were representative of each of her options for a guide.


    The first, to her extreme left was a simple axe. Capable of being wielded in one hand, freeing up the other for a shield.


    The second was a long, edged whip that had been curled together neatly, with a thick handle.


    The last was a rapier, stabbed vertically into the room of ice. Elegant and minimalistic in its form.


    All of them had a single similarity ¨C they all appeared to be cast from frost. Their blades and surfaces taking on hues ranging between the lightest of whites to the darkest of blues.


    "You have a choice. To select a guide with a burden that is [Minimal], [Moderate] or [Severe]. From left to right, naturally. Your decision will inform the difficulty of your descent. You will be more powerful, with a guide of a greater burden. However, your challenges will increase commensurate with the benefits."


    The Matchmaker adjusted his monocle delicately.


    "Put more bluntly, you will be at greater risk of falling to Insanity. Choose with care."


    "Only three? What about these, Mr Spider?"


    "How reductive, Miss Shiver, to reduce me to my speci-"


    The Matchmaker stared at the two implements next to three before her. The spider, who had been idly shifting his weight from leg to leg, froze.


    Then the room began to shake. The enormous spider before her¡­


    Was trembling, in fear.


    He backed away rapidly from the two other implements he had initially overlooked.


    A towering greatsword wrought from ice, its handle up to her chest.


    Beside it, on the far right, was a sleek, beautiful spear with a white hue.


    "What are they?"


    The Matchmaker mumbled under his breath.


    "She has been silent for so long, and now this."


    His innumerable eyes hardened, and he fixed his gaze on Shiver ¨C the monotony of routine, shattered.


    "Shiver, your world is in peril-"


    "I don¡¯t particularly care."


    "I¡¯m glad you understand, now these- wait what?"


    Shiver idly picked at her nose. Demonstrating an impressive nonchalance, in the face of his grave proclamation of doom.


    "If you¡¯re going to tell me to take on a significant burden to save the world ¨C I¡¯m not interested. Elucidor can burn for all that I care. This world isn¡¯t kind to orphans. I don¡¯t owe it anything. As were you saying?"


    She stretched lazily, the matchmaker gazing at her silently in response. He inclined his legs towards the greatsword and daggers.


    "Those are [legendary] and [mythic] guides. Usually inaccessible to awakening Fearshapers. They carry the greatest power, and the greatest risk. If you do not have the ambition to save your world, I would highly recommend-"


    "I pick this one."


    The Matchmaker stumbled as he watched Shiver pick up the spear.


    "Think it¡¯ll do for some thugs and an arrogant noble? They¡¯re a pain in my arse."


    She had chosen the [Mythic] guide.


    Silence hung in the air between them, and the spider began shaking once more. A shadow of concern flickered across Shiver¡¯s face. In the short time meeting him, she had come to be fond of the Matchmaker.


    "Are you alright?"


    As she leaned in, she detected a soft sound originating from his mouth.


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    A chittering noise.


    "You really should stop doing that. I get worried, you know?"


    "You remind me of the older days, Shiver. Some of the greatest Fearshapers were born of the simplest of motivations. But I cannot emphasise the peril this choice will expose you to. You will dance at the edge of Insanity, delving deeper than you can imagine into your Fear of ice-"


    "Mr Spider, if that¡¯s all it takes, sign me up."


    It was strange. From anyone else, the statement would have come off as arrogant. Shiver only levelly met his gaze.


    He let out a deep sigh, as Shvier made her decision.


    "Ah¡­ a delightful match. It goes without saying, your guide is a master of ice. Unparalleled in his ability. To weave your bond, a promise will suffice."


    The spider drew itself up, placing the spear delicately before her.


    "Do you vow to face your Fear, Shiver?"


    Shiver couldn¡¯t help but snort in the face of the enormous Matchmaker, even at the risk of drawing its ire. To her surprise, she heard a familiar chittering in the form of what must have been a chuckle. He seemed to know how she would answer.


    "That is the only way I know how to live, Mr Spider. Facing my Fear is all I have ever done. I promise. Were those the words you wanted to hear?"


    The spider sat back, satisfied, its thin mouth sporting long mandibles drawing into a terrifying smile.


    "Then I wish you the best of luck. I should hope to meet you again soon. Embrace your Fear, young elf."


    "Wait but you promised me a popsicle-"


    ---


    The Weaver began to create the bond between elf and guide. It had been years since he had last encountered a [Mythic] guide ¨C the brave elf had chosen the most perilous of journeys.


    Reserve system message-


    A notification blinked into existence in the Matchmaker¡¯s vision. He brightened at the sight of it.


    "There you are! It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve heard your voice. What¡¯s this about authorising [Legendary] and [Mythic] guides? Is everything alright?"


    He continued to weave his beautiful web, gratified by the company. A web that would link Fearshaper and guide as they descended into the depths of Fear.


    Then, the Matchmaker watched in horror as the web that he had begun to weave fell to pieces.


    SYSTEM OVERRIDE


    Selecting substitute guide¡­ Guide selected.


    Guide burden: [unquantifiable]


    "What is the meaning of this! You deprive her of her autonomy and choice. This is an outrage!"


    His eyes widening, as frost began to build, within the room, more than he ever thought possible.


    "No. This is¡­"


    The Weaver, fell silent.


    He was tasked with weaving a familiar bond, the likes of which he had weaved before.


    Every time he forged it anew; it was the greatest bond he had ever forged.


    As he wept, this time, he hoped it would be the last.


    ---


    Shiver woke abruptly, struggling to pry open her eyelids.


    Finally succeeding, she realised that she was not, in fact, dead. Looking down to inspect her wound, she found that the bolt that had pierced her abdomen laid shattered on the ground beside her. Her wound had seemingly frozen shut.


    "Well would you look at th-"


    She sputtered, coughing up blood.


    Ok, maybe now wasn¡¯t the best time for witty quips. She was in bad shape. She shivered as she put a hand on the icy lake surface beside her to push herself up.


    "Avalkin¡¯s ballsack."


    The frozen surface of the lake was cold. She had trained herself to grow accustomed to the sensation of the cold but it had never been this intense.


    She started to shiver.


    "Wh-what happened."


    Shaking her head, she steadied herself. She didn¡¯t have the time to worry about a little chill.


    Marta, Pov and Blaze were in danger.


    "That¡¯s right, it was your fault we got involved, eh?¡¯"


    Shiver froze. She whipped her head around, who had said that?


    Marta?


    "W-who¡¯s there?"


    All she could see was the snowstorm around her. The wind howling in her ears, forcing her to blink rapidly as she searched the darkness before her. She winced as it buffeted her, her eyes becoming teary.


    Only the empty dark stood before her.


    Then, she noticed a figure emerge, walking towards her.


    "M-Marta?"


    She recognized the enormous silhouette.


    ¡®"hat¡¯s wrong Shiv? Afraid you wouldn¡¯t see me again?"


    As ¡°Marta¡± melted out of the darkness, Shiver¡¯s eyes passed over hollow and bloodied eye sockets that stared back at her. She felt the dread set in, her heart beating itself out of her chest.


    That isn¡¯t Marta. It¡¯s only a hallucination. She¡¯s a product of your mind, your fear. She can¡¯t hurt you.


    Yet her hallucinations had never spoken before.


    Sharp, bluish nails raked lines across her forearms, drawing blood. Shiver collapsed to the ground, and the figure held her neck.


    Shiver could only stare ahead, paralysed in shock.


    She was met with a silent, bloody grin as the figure tilted its head, as if awaiting her response. She was pinned, what could she do? She hardly had the energy to stand.


    Unbidden, she suddenly felt her palms burn with the cold. The sensation of ice pressing up against an open wound. It was electrifying. By instinct, she plunged her hands forward into the shade¡¯s chest.


    Shade-Marta¡¯s body exploded into tiny shards of ice, her head falling to the ground.


    In place of the beautiful white spear she expected, was a humble dagger of ice. She held another in her off-hand.


    "So much for my choice."


    It would have to do.


    Still¡­ I¡¯m a Fearshaper. Impossible¡­ Unless we were lied to. Or I¡¯m of noble blood.


    The thought provoked a weak chuckle. Mustering what little strength she had left, she wrenched her right arm free, plunging the dagger straight into shade¡¯s head. Frost spread outwards from the entry wound, gradually encompassing the shade.


    ¡°Marta¡± only continued to smile at her.


    Shiver fell back from the ice-shade, frozen with a rictus of a grin on her face. Its eyes continued to track her as she caught her breath.


    She didn¡¯t have time for this, Marta and Pov were in danger. Collecting herself, she started towards the city.


    She winced when felt a tinge of pain on her arm. She frowned. It was from the arm scratched by the shade.


    The wounds the shade had dealt had disappeared.


    Yet a shadow of the pain they inflicted remained with her.


    ---


    Shiver returned to find the Trobid home in flames.


    An inferno raged in the heart of the lower circle. It consumed even the dark, blue-black bricks that comprised the home. No ordinary flame could burn stone. Shiver¡¯s knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of a roof on a building from across the street.


    A man stood before the house, an immense greatsword across his back. The air around him shimmered with heat, and a vortex of flame blurred through the center of his blade.


    Highlord Berevan Brimstone.


    Something lay at his feet.


    Every fiber in her body was telling her to rush in, but she knew she would just be outnumbered and torn apart if she did. Especially with the Highlord present.


    She forced herself to observe her surroundings, noticing a small group of onlookers amassing below her. Lord Semille limped while Dag¡¯s men jogged towards the house from down the street to meet the Lord.


    Flipping up the hood of her cloak, Shiver forced her rising nausea down as she leapt down from her perch and drew closer, weaving through the crowd.


    "Why thank you, Berevan. How considerate of you to so promptly resolve the matter for me. I was afraid I would have to take care of them myself. I made all the necessary preparations."


    Lord Semille smirked but faltered as Berevan turned to meet him with cold eyes that burned red. The Highlord turned, ignoring the lord from House Flora, casting his vision to the skies.


    [Flight of the Eternal Phoenix]


    Two wings of flame sprouted from the Lord¡¯s back, extending outwards rapidly and making Semille recoil in shock, falling onto the cobblestone beneath him.


    Fearshaping.


    Shiver¡¯s eyes widened as she was introduced to an unfamiliar Fear, this one of fire. Yet flames were not all she felt. For a split second, she felt as if she was burning alive, and her skin was reforming as it was reduced to ash.


    Eternal immolation. The Highlord of Brimstone¡¯s Fear.


    The crowd around Shiver gasped as they were met by a wave of heat generated as he shot into the sky with a beat of the wings.


    In a blink, Highlord Berevan Brimstone was gone.


    Shiver stared at the corpses that had laid on the ground in his wake.


    No, please.


    With the heel of his good foot, the other still healing from Shiver¡¯s assault, Lord Semille shoved the larger corpse onto its back, revealing her face.


    Marta¡¯s body was incinerated. Blackened, rivulets of dried blood lined her forearms. Her face was untouched, as if to give Shiver no doubt as to her identity. It provoked a visceral sensation of horror to see Marta¡¯s beautiful face, paired with an immolated body.


    Pov looked so small and fragile. His face serene, similarly unblemished. Yet his body was charred and deprived of some of its limbs, that lay burning in the ashes of the garden.


    Lord Semille grinned as he stepped on Marta¡¯s body, walking across it to lift up the final, smaller corpse by its pigtails. Just as Shiver had done to tease the younger orphan, whenever she was up to mischief.


    The little firefly. Blaze. His mouth broke out into a sickening grin as he whipped around to look at Dag and his men, brandishing her like an elven boy¡¯s first catch.


    The fact that their bodies were burned through, and their faces left untouched was a cruelty that words could not encompass.


    Unblinking eyes stared back at her, just as beautiful as they were in life.


    "A job well done men."


    He turned to Dag and his men, as they reflexively backed away.


    "Looks like that Lord of yours did us a favour. And I didn¡¯t even have to a-"


    Lord Semille frowned, as he suddenly encountered a strange difficulty in finishing his sentence.


    He noticed that Dag and his crew were staring at him with wide eyes. Not at his eyes, the uncultured fools barely knew how to maintain proper eye contact.


    No, they were staring at the dagger of ice which protruded from his neck.


    Shiver had never wondered how difficult it was to take a man¡¯s life.There were bigger questions to worry about ¨C when would she get her next popsicle? How could she make Mother Ventra¡¯s life even more miserable than it already was?


    Lord Semille so graciously volunteered an answer to that question.


    Shiver shot out of the crowd, leaping towards Dag with unnatural agility. He barely reacted as Shiver plunged her remaining dagger straight into his right eye socket before ripping it through fragile orbital bone.


    Flowing around him, Shiver faced one of Semille¡¯s knights garbed in his armour of writhing vines. Instinctually sensing the water which flowed within them, a million needles of ice erupted through the vines, impaling the knight trapped within.


    Shiver screamed, flecks of blood flying from her throat at the effort.


    Before the knight hit the ground, she had already thrown herself at her net target.


    The sound of her scream of despair sent a chill through the blood of the knight of the Dreadwood.


    For a second, they felt as if they had been lit on fire. The blood beneath their impenetrable armour ceased in their veins for just a moment. As if freezing in its path.


    The second knight discarded his armour immediately, recognizing the threat it posed. The vines fell to the floor, still writhing. Shiver felt the dagger that she had thrown at Semile reform in her hand, bringing with it the welcome burn of ice.


    She wished it were more intense.


    "Guards! Guards!"


    The crowd was in a state of panic. Greld looked at her with horror and sadness, simply bowing his head. Yet he charged into her all the same, smashing her into the pavement below. He held her throat in his hands, but he didn¡¯t constrict his hands. The forlorn look in his eyes betrayed his useless guilt at the loss of their lives.


    Marta, Pov and Blaze were dead, and for what? To sate the petty ego of a lord?


    His guilt would not bring them back.


    She stabbed him in the abdomen with one of her daggers, as if in wordless reply to his forlorn expression. Her vision began to fade as her burst of exertion caught up to her, the adrenaline barely holding it back.


    "Shiver!"


    A voice echoed in the distance. It sounded vaguely familiar. She barely registered as a skeletal horse barreled into Greld, knocking him sprawling.


    Undead? In the city?


    The horse knelt, letting its rider haul her body onto its back before the knight could recover. It rose, and shot towards the city gates.


    Shiver stared at the bodies of Marta, Pov and Blaze with hollow eyes as they grew distant. Three figures stood behind their dead bodies.


    Ice shades bearing their resemblance. Frostbitten, their bodies riddled with shards of ice.


    Their only sin being the kindness they had afforded her.


    Her shades sported no provoking grin. Uttered no words of accusation.


    None were needed.


    She agreed with her demons.


    It was all her fault.

 Chapter 11: Brimstone

    Caledon Brimstone watched as his younger sister danced around his father, flames swirling around him, lashing at her to no effect.


    "You¡¯re getting slow old man! Age catching up to you?"


    Amidst a burst of flame, his sister launched herself into the air, whirling down at him with her twin swords that flashed as they cut downwards.


    Highlord Berevan Brimstone, his father, let out a roar of laughter, casually deflecting her strikes with his greatsword and shoving her away with a flick of his wrist. Viveria landed in an agile crouch, an equally wild grin on her face.


    At times, he felt flashes of envy towards his sister. But they were quickly overwhelmed with pride. Her mastery over the sword was second only to their father. When they were young, she had often been an easy target due to her fiery personality. Quick to anger, and easily provoked. Those that dared to provoke her quickly faced her wrath.


    [Swipe of the Blazebear]


    His father followed up his counter with a broad sweep of his greatsword, sending a wave of rolling flame towards his sister in an instant, invoking his Fear.


    Fearshaper.


    The title granted to those that descended into the depths of their Fear to acquire power. Unbidden, it came to Caledon¡¯s mind at the sight of his father¡¯s attack. The sight of flame made his heartbeat heighten slightly, provoking his own Fear.


    Unlike their parents, Viveria and Caledon had yet to have awakened as Fearshapers. It was a process that he had doggedly interrogated his father about, to no avail.


    "When the time comes, I¡¯ll explain it to you Caledon. Forget about that, show me what you¡¯re tinkering on!"


    A familiar refrain, that his father had used to great effect.


    Yet, a part of him was grateful that he had not awakened as a Fearshaper. With that power came responsibility, one that he dreaded, when fulfilling it meant to wield it against Brimstone¡¯s enemies.


    "Wait! No fair-"


    His father sent Viveria soaring into a pillar. Caledon winced as heard the impact.


    His sister wobbled to her feet, her father still laughing.


    "What did I tell you about reminding me of my age, Vivy?"


    She pouted, uncaring of the bruise that was rapidly swelling across the cheek that had been kissed by the stone pillar her father had so graciously sent her flying into.


    Caledon chuckled as he realised that the stone pillar had gotten further than any of the other budding young men so enamoured with his sister. Especially that prick Dravel.


    "Dad! You invoked your Fear! You aren¡¯t fighting fair."


    His father shot him a knowing smile. Caledon rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, here came the lecture. His father deepened his voice artificially, adopting the booming tone he did when he mocked them.


    "Young Viveria, you know as well as I do that our enemies-"


    "-don¡¯t fight fair! I know, you¡¯ve told me a million times."


    His sister¡¯s skin was turning pink from minor burns across her body, but she paid them no heed.


    "Again."


    "Viv¡­"


    "Come on! I know I can avoid it this time."


    Unfortunately for Viveria, Silas arrived to Highlord Berevan¡¯s aid. The loyal butler had a hint of mischief in his eyes which Caledon was only able to detect due to his familiarity with the man.


    "Apologies, mistress. Your father is needed."


    The girl glowered at Silas, the greatest thief of her father¡¯s attention.


    Caledon rose from his seat with a groan, starting towards his sister.


    "Come on sis, you¡¯ve got to get those burns treated. If you turn into a flaking mess, you¡¯ll be at a loss for suitors."


    A wild smile spread across Viveria¡¯s face. Uh oh.


    "That¡¯s a wonderful idea Cally. Maybe this way those Feardamned idiots will stop chasing me."


    His father boomed with laughter as Viveria stomped off with a snort towards the medical bay. He pitied the healers who worked tirelessly to keep her in fighting shape throughout her training.


    "A gentleman is here to see you, Highlord. It is of the utmost importance."


    "Is that your assessment of the situation? Or just what the gentleman would have me believe."


    "The former."


    His father turned to Silas, nodding and dismissing his greatsword in a flash of flame. Silas at times, bore a resemblance to the puppets he feared.


    His lifeless eyes, and the unnatural tilt to his head had creeped out a younger Caledon to no end. The butler shot Caledon a wink, which he returned with a grin.


    The same ¡°weird and creepy¡± Silas also had an unparalleled sense of humour, which a young Caledon had come to quickly realise.


    He quickly became a mentor and friend to him, and he was glad that he hadn¡¯t stubbornly adhered to his assumptions about the man. He remembered speaking about it with his father.


    "Father, Silas is creepy. So is his Fear. What happens if he¡¯s able to Fearshape like you? Will he send puppets after us?"


    "Only the nobility can shape their Fear into power, son. It is a burden that we alone bear. It is also wrong to judge a man by his Fear, Cal. We do not choose what we are tormented by, and neither can we avoid being influenced by our Fears. It is only natural to grow to embody it in some ways. Give him a chance son."


    He had always been curious about Fearshaping. Who wouldn¡¯t be? An elusive power granted exclusively to the nobility? A burning mystery that he was determined he would get to the bottom of. Yet he received no assistance from his parents. He still recalled when his mother had departed to the Archcity of Dreams, Somnolence, and had returned a Fearshaper. What occurred in that city that sparked her awakening? That was a mystery.


    "You¡¯ll know when the time comes."


    That had been his parents¡¯ only response. When he had mentioned it to his sister, she hadn¡¯t been of much help. Instead, he had received a face full of water when she sprayed her drink at him, unable to contain her laughter.


    "Cally I got that response from mother when I asked her how babies were made. In her defence, she was ri-"


    All Caledon had been able to do was run and entreat the sky above, begging to know what he had done to deserve such an infuriating family.


    ---


    Brimstone, the Archcity of Flames was as grand on the surface as it was below.


    Descending into the undercity revealed a sprawling cavern bathed in the warm orange glow of a lake of lava that rested below. Brimstone¡¯s undercity was built into the sides of the cavern extending inwards, suspended above the vast pool, and supported by immense stone pillars.


    Much like the lavaways above, it reminded Caledon of knowledge lost, and architectural feats yet unrepeated.


    House Brimstone put them to use ¨C housing a legion of the land¡¯s most legendary smiths, metalworkers and miners ¨C the cornerstone of Brimstone¡¯s industry.


    To Caledon, it was a second home.


    "Aye Cal, come down ¡®ere to spend some quality time with us aye? The girls not pretty enough surfaceside?"


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Caledon grinned at Brimstone¡¯s foremost smith, an unassuming burly and short man approximately a half of his height. The apprentices around him laughed jovially, slapping him on his back.


    "Aye Sakar, would be a tragedy to go a day without seeing your beautiful mug."


    Sakar was one of a few smiths capable of shaping darksteel. He was the very smith that had crafted his father¡¯s armour. Any other metal turned to liquid in the face of the inferno his father was capable of conjuring.


    His eyes passed over the smith¡¯s heavy brows, sweat dripping from his face.


    Sweat? That¡¯s strange.


    For as long as he had been an apprentice, he had never seen Master Sakar sweat. Even doused in the flames of the Undercity, the heat waves from the lava beneath them emanating upwards. Or baked in the flames of the forge that he worked ¨C he had never seen even a drip. Or a hint of exhaustion. The man worked ceaselessly, creating marvels.


    "Sakar¡­ are you well? I noticed¡­"


    The man bellowed out a huge laugh, making Caledon jump.


    "Aye, I¡¯m as spritely as I ever was!"


    He turned to his apprentices, a mischevious gleam in his eye.


    "Lucky me, drawing the attention of young Lord Caledon over here, aye lads?"


    Caledon¡¯s cheeks coloured as Sakar¡¯s teasing words evoked a wave of laughter.


    After a moment, Caledon joined in with relieved laughter, shooting a grin at his friend Barain, a senior apprentice.


    So much for checking on his wellbeing ¨C the old smith seemed as lively as always.


    "Yer finally done then?"


    Caledon cradled a bundle in his arms, his latest creation.


    Caledon nodded, self-conscious of the looks he received from the other apprentices. Sakar was famous for setting his apprentices eccentric challenges to overcome when they wished to learn the secrets of darksteel smithing.


    He had apprenticed under Sakar for three years now, all in the hopes of learning how to shape darksteel. Ever since he had seen his father don his darksteel armour, he had been enamoured. But it wasn¡¯t for the reasons that many of the other apprentices were.


    Caledon cared nothing for wielding power as his father did. While regeneration was key to his Fearshaping, his flame wrought destruction.


    The ability to create?


    That was something else.


    Caledon thought back to his conversation with the smith when he had first expressed his interest in learning about darksteel smithing.


    "I know what yer want to ask son. Speak up."


    "Ah, yes smith. Why do you ask your apprentices to forge you something they would hate?"


    "If I wanted to find any ol¡¯ apprentice to whip me up a sword or axe, I¡¯d only have to turn a corner to stumble over some lad or lass with aspirations to create Brimstone¡¯s next legendary blade. Yer see son, I¡¯m looking for the ones who wish to innovate. Brimstone is entering into a new age of invention and creation. You understand, dontcha."


    The smith had wanted to test his apprentices¡¯ ability to be versatile. To depart from convention, and to delve into the unknown. Part of that was being willing to create things you abhorred, delving into areas that you never would willingly.


    To a lot of the other apprentices, that meant creating something boring. Something that wasn¡¯t plate armour, a greatsword, axe or killing instrument of some sort. The other apprentices had been jealous when they heard ¨C they would have leapt at the opportunity to do so.


    His task? Sakar had charged Caledon with creating an abominable killing weapon. Sakar knew how he abhorred instruments of war. Sakar''s practiced eyes had picked up on Caledon¡¯s aversion to weapons practically on sight.


    He hefted his creation, covered in tarp to the old smith.


    "What do yer think yer doing yer lazy bastards! Back to work!"


    The smith waved his hammer at the gathering crowd of apprentices, all curious to see what Caledon had produced. They hastily returned to work. His friend Barain, a fellow apprentice shot him an encouraging nod.


    Sakar unveiled Caledon¡¯s creation. It was a hollow sword. A twisting blade, like a newborn sapling, sprouted from an oddly crafted hilt. Rather than typical broadswords that boasted a keen double edge, his sword resembled the more elegant rapier. However, it appeared to be at least four times thicker than that of any ordinary rapier. The twisting steel that comprised the blade was perforated with holes. The blade¡¯s hilt sported a small, hollow entrance which appeared to tunnel to the other holes appearing across the blade itself. Sakar nodded with a huff as he grasped the function of the odd design.


    Caledon nodded, gulping down his anxiety. It was crafted such that a Fearshaper that wielded fire could send a burst of flame through the hilt which would be channeled through the tunnel structure in the blade to spear out of it at from holes peppered along the surface of the blade. If someone were unfortunate enough to be stabbed by it, it would quickly incinerate them from within.


    Sakar gave Caledon a serious look which made his hopes fall.


    "Oh come on old man! Enough of your Feardamned bullshit!"


    Barain called out to the smith fearlessly, who picked up an errant hammer and flung it at his senior apprentice. Barain laughed fearlessly, and Caledon noticed that the old smith was barely holding back a mischievous grin. He looked back to Caledon.


    "Not bad."


    "I¡¯ll set ¡®yer¡¯ arse on fire old man. You know as well as I do that it¡¯s ingenious."


    Barain mocked the old smith, but Sakar couldn¡¯t help but grin at his senior apprentice¡¯s words.


    "Aye, aye! Well said. Barain¡¯s as thick as cobble but he¡¯s got a point. Well done, Brimstone."


    Caledon let out a triumphant yell he didn¡¯t realise he had been holding in.


    Success, finally.


    In the hands of an ordinary soldier, the blade was nothing special. It would even be a hindrance. But he hadn¡¯t made it for your ordinary soldier.


    With Viveria¡¯s fighting style ¨C quick, elegant and sharp, it turned into another monster altogether. Someone unfortunate enough to be speared by it could have chunks blown off them in a millisecond with a strong enough burst of flame through the blade¡¯s hilt. Caledon knew though, that the sword wouldn¡¯t hold up for long. A Fearshaper''s flame distorted steel, and the intricate tunnel network that channeled the flames to the blade¡¯s surface would quickly fall a part. It would make the perfect gift for his sister once she awakened.


    However, the brutal killing instrument would only realise its full potential with darksteel, capable of withstanding more intense heat. Caledon understood the assignment.


    Barain clapped him on the shoulder. The son of a miner, his shoulders were broad, and he was one of the few men that matched Caledon in his stature and build. Their friendship had been forged from the time they were young, nipping around the smithy, curious at what their elders were creating.


    "Looks like we¡¯re due for a drink Cal. We might not be able to today though, behold. I spot pricks over yonder."


    He gestured with a shrug to a group of young men laughing outside the undercity¡¯s sole bar. Likely back from their training in the mines. Vassals of House Brimstone. Not that their status deterred them from picking on him.


    The ringleader turned, catching his eyes.


    Great. There goes celebratory drinks.


    At the motion of their leader, the group turned as one in his direction.


    "Barain, won¡¯t be a minute."


    "Don¡¯t leave, let them come."


    Caledon didn¡¯t want to get his friend involved. For all his strength, he was still lowborn. Dravel, the leader of the group of merry idiots was a noble. His posse were comprised of the sons of minor lords from the provinces, all reporting to his father. That made all the difference.


    "Why hello Lord Brimstone, how nice of you to join us. Feeling the heat a little?"


    "Speak for yourself Dravel. You seem to feel it at the sight of my sister. Wouldn¡¯t you agree, lads?"


    Dravel¡¯s entourage snickered, abruptly silenced when he shot them a look of hatred. Caledon smirked. The damage had been done.


    The young lord¡¯s face turned red and he clenched his fists at the provocation. While Viveria had inherited their father¡¯s mastery over battle, he was grateful to have received his father¡¯s build. Dravel shot uncertain looks at Caledon¡¯s barrel of a chest.


    The young lord spat in his direction and walked away with his posse in tow. It was a familiar dance between them, trading insults which amounted to nothing of substance. If Dravel raised a finger against him, there would be hell to pay.


    Noticing with a quick glance that Dravel¡¯s group had returned to the bar, Caledon shot Barain a quick nod. He returned to Sakar¡¯s forge, his apprentices looking uneasy, uncomfortable to see a son of Brimstone humiliated. Sakar nodded to him and turned to his juniors.


    Sakar spat to his side, an apprentice dodging out of the way.


    "Take notes everyone. The better a smith yer become, the more of those nobles you¡¯ll have to deal with. If one of those pricks picks a fight with you, bow yer head. Don¡¯t let yer pride be the death of you."


    Pride? Caledon didn¡¯t have the luxury of it. The old smith wasn¡¯t done. He looked at Caledon steel in his eyes.


    "But don¡¯t yer dare lose yer drive. Yer might think me an idiot-"


    "Aye!"


    His group of apprentices chorused. Caledon joined them jovially, having brushed himself off. Sakar swung his hammer at them, causing the group to hop a step back.


    "-but I¡¯m smart enough to know that a house is nothing without good smiths. How many of those uppity young gents do you think would try to take a swing at me, eh? If I threatened to leave, our Highlord Brimstone would have them publicly spanked to get me to stay."


    Caledon had no doubt about it. His father¡¯s lack of patience for idiot lords and ladies was renowned.


    "Also remember. Not all lords are made equal. Our Caledon here, is especially troublesome, aye?"


    The group laughed, he received some consolatory pats on the back after Sakar¡¯s speech.


    "Now get back to work yer lazy bastards!"


    Sakar turned to Caledon with a mischievous smile. Caledon waited in anticipation, but the smith just remained silent.


    Finally, darksteel.


    "Alright then boy, now go down to th-"


    "Apologies, master smith."


    Silas stood behind them, seemingly appearing out of thin air. He wore a look of regret on his face.


    "Congratulations are in order lord Caledon. However, master Sakar, I¡¯m afraid the young master¡¯s lessons will have to wait, perhaps for some time. The Highlord has summoned you to his chambers."


    Dread filled Caledon. His shoulders slumped.


    "Surely it won¡¯t be fer long Silas? The boy has been looking forward to this fer as long as I can remember! Yer know this."


    Silas bowed, revealing a small break in his usually impassive expression.


    "I¡¯m afraid he might be indisposed for a while yet."


    So close.


    The smith let out a sigh like a bellows. Sakar stepped on his tip toes to give Caledon¡¯s shoulder a reassuring grip.


    "You¡¯ll be back in no time lad. We¡¯ll get yer started straight away."


    Resigned, Caledon nodded at Silas, and avoided meeting Sakar¡¯s eyes. He¡¯d waited this long.


    Waiting a little longer wouldn¡¯t hurt¡­


    Right?

 Chapter 12: Justice

    The hearth burned brightly in his father¡¯s chambers. His family were seated inside, waiting for his arrival. His mother, Highlady Appella Brimstone, shot him a thinly veiled look of disgust. He ignored her, turning instead to his father and sister who looked at him eagerly.


    "Well?"


    He sat down, a weary look on his face. He put his head in his hands.


    "Cally don¡¯t you dare play us for fools."


    He snorted.


    "I knew it! Sakar accepted it!"


    His sister leapt at him to wrap him in a hug. His father rose from his chair, and walked over to him to lay a giant, reassuring hand on his shoulder. He flushed at the look of pride that he gave him. They knew how hard he had worked on his project to convince Sakar to teach him to shape darksteel.


    But Caledon¡¯s stomach fell when his father¡¯s expression turned to one of sorrow.


    "Well done, son. It was a masterpiece."


    "Thanks father."


    His father took a deep breath, exhaling like a bellows.


    "And I¡¯m sorry to take you away from it. But there are some urgent matters we need to attend to."


    His mother slapped the table abruptly, her temper showing.


    "Well Highlord, if you would just delegate it to Viveria instead, little Caledon over here would be able to play in the forges all day long. Whyever do you disagree with me, dear husband?"


    Viveria bristled, shooting their mother a look of dislike. His father turned to him, ignoring Appella¡¯s comments entirely. His mother¡¯s outbursts had been happening more recently of late. Seemingly disagreeing with his father just for the sake of conflict.


    The doors to his father¡¯s office slammed open. Two Dreadwood knights walked in, encased in strange armour that appeared to be composed of root and vine. One of the knights removed his helm, to reveal an unfamiliar face.


    The man was in poor condition. The skin around his throat was a pale red, as if recently healed over. His eyes were hollow, as if he had just seen combat. He limped inside, treating one leg with more care than the other. His lips turned into an ugly sneer.


    "Enough talk Highlord. You ¡°welcome¡± me into your city and one of your citizens makes an attempt on my life. Come boy, I will brief you enroute. I will have the girl¡¯s head.


    The lord walked towards Caledon, who recoiled at his approach. His face was twisted into an expression of rage, a vein throbbing in his forehead.


    "Enough."


    The heat from his father¡¯s aura overpowered him, and the rest of the room¡¯s inhabitants. He was introduced to the shape of his father¡¯s Fear of flame.


    It was not a simple heat, as you would expect, from the flames of a forge. When his father called forth his aura he momentarily experienced the agony of flesh burning away, melting, only to regenerate ¨C to be reduced to ash once more.


    An endless cycle.


    Berevan¡¯s Fearshaping was a terrifying thing. Not in its destructive force. No, Caledeon¡¯s time in the undercity saw him braving forges which burned hotter.


    It was what his father¡¯s Fear represented.


    It was a reminder that the Highlord of House Brimston was nigh unkillable. Any wounds that were inflicted on him would regenerate with the utterance of a single invocation he had heard a scarce few times¨C


    [Tears of the Phoenix]


    Lord Semille Flora faltered in his advance, his eyes shifting warily to the Highlord.


    It was undoubtable that Berevan stood far above the arrogant lord from House Flora in terms of his descent through his Fear. Undeniable.


    "I will brief my son. Alone."


    "I will not suffer lies, Brimstone. Or words that would dishonour me. I will stay, then we will depart immediately."


    Lord Semille stood undeterred. His pride acting like a shield as he drew his lips into a sickly grin. Then, he turned to glare at Caledon¡¯s mother, motioning for her to leave her seat. Caledon felt rage begin to build within him. His father let out a sigh, relenting. For all of his power, there was no deterring the stubborn lord. His eyes were filled with murder, and he was itching to pursue his aggressor.


    Lord Semille¡¯s arrogance would not permit a mischaracterisation of the events surrounding his injury."


    "Appella, if you would."


    His mother shot his father a glare, but relented, leaving the room in a rush. His father let out a heavy sigh.


    "Caledon. I have a task for you. Sit please."


    The only unoccupied chair was one next to the hearth.


    "Cally, let me-"


    "No it¡¯s ok Viv."


    His father continued, pacing across his office.


    "Just about an hour ago, an attempt was made on Lord Semille Flora¡¯s life."


    "An attempt? It would have been successful were it not for my mother¡¯s armour, Brimstone. You would have had my death on your hands."


    Caledon sat up straight. His father did not dignify the lord¡¯s response with even a glance.


    "A¡­ dagger through his neck. He was only saved by the armour of the Dreadwood knights, as he reports. Even then, it was a close call."


    Caledon gaped.


    Saved by¡­ armour?


    He turned his eyes to the root and vine that encompassed Lord Semille¡¯s torso.


    Evidently... that was the legendary Dreadwood armour. Capable of healing otherwise fatal wounds, it allowed Flora¡¯s knights to traverse almost any kind of territory. It rivalled even his father¡¯s healing ability. The envy of craftsman, even of masters in the undercity.


    "The attacker even managed to subdue one of Lord Semille¡¯s knights and killed the ringleader of some of the lower circle¡¯s less savoury elements."


    "They managed to subdue a Knight of the Dreadwood? How?"


    "Incompetence. My mother picks the worst men for her honourguard."


    The lord¡¯s mouth turned into a sneer of disdain.


    Caledon stared at the lord from House Flora incredulously. He spoke with so much confidence it seemed like the lord had forgotten about the red mark on his neck ¨C a reminder that he himself had received a blow that would have put an end to his life.


    Caledon also detected a hint of jealousy in his voice.


    Perhaps he resents his mother for denying him the status.


    His father continued.


    "We all suspect that the identity of the attacker is that of an orphan by the name of Shiver-"


    "Ridiculous. Brimstone¡¯s incompetence rears its ugly head once more. ¡°Suspect¡±? It was clearly the work of that bitch. A friend to the family that your father incinerated. The one that attacked me in that filthy orphanage."


    Caledon felt his heart stop. He exchanged a look of disbelief with his sister.


    Incinerating a family? What did they do?


    His gaze fell on his father, who bore a distinct expression of discomfort on his face. He let out a long sigh.


    "Lord Semille was tasked with delivering an important package from the Dreadwood. It was stolen by a young orphan girl by the name of Blaze. I held the girl, and the family harbouring her to account for her crime."


    Killing them for¡­ theft?


    "Fath-"


    Lord Semille broke out into a savage grin.


    "Of all of your actions, this was the most redeemable, Highlord. Had you not, I would have seen to it that they paid for their crimes."


    Viveria spoke, a look of disbelief on her expression.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "But father, such a harsh punishment-"


    Her father cut her off with a wave of his hand.


    "Enough Caledon, Viveria. Lord Semille¡¯s attacker is believed to be an older orphan by the name of Shiver ¨C a friend to Blaze and the family that harboured her."


    Caledon¡¯s head swam. He exchanged a panicked glance with his sister.


    What had Lord Semille been tasked with delivering? Was the package the reason his father had inflicted such a harsh punishment? This was unlike him.


    Lord Semille spat beside him, motioning to his leg.


    His father continued.


    "We suspect that Shiver is a Fearshaper. The knight that was incapacitated was pierced by needles of ice that erupted from the roots of his armour. Thankfully the armour¡¯s regenerative qualities prevailed, acting immediately."


    "But¡­but that¡¯s impossible. She¡¯s an orphan? Then she must be of noble blood! Unforgivable. We need to find her. Send me after her, father."


    Viveria burst out. Caledon just paused, thinking. This hardly accorded with what he knew.


    To his knowledge ¨C only the four noble houses were capable of producing Fearshapers.


    House Brimstone, of the Eternal Phoenix.


    House Flora, of the Slumbering Treant.


    House Dreamer, of the Somnolent Nightmare.


    And lastly, House Revenant, of the Venerable Lich.


    The last of which, Brimstone had reduced to ash for the atrocities they had committed.


    The Rampage of Undeath.


    None of the houses produced elves with a command over ice.


    Perhaps there were some anomalies ¨C but each noble house attempted to induce a specific Fear in their progeny. The more barbaric ones gave you no choice. When Caledon learned of the practice, he counted himself lucky. He had been given a choice. His sister, had elected for a Fear of flame, and she had received it.


    I wish I had chosen the flame. It would have been a kinder Fear.


    Caledon¡¯s mind worked, as his sister continued protesting with his father, convincing him to send her after the perpetrator. Finally, he broke the silence.


    "Father. I have three possible explanations."


    His father nodded, a hint of pride on his expression. Caledon posed his first question.


    "Was she alive?"


    Caledon cast a self-conscious glance at Lord Semille, expecting the man to rebuke his question. Strangely, the lord''s eyes widened in slight shock, and he remained silent.


    What is going on here?


    "Explain, Caledon."


    Caledon sat, and he cleared his throat nervously.


    "We¡¯ve heard reports of undead ¨C Fearshapers killed in the Rampage, that wielded their Phobias that they held in life."


    Phobias were an implement of a Fearshaper.


    His father¡¯s was his greatsword of burnished red and goal, which contained an eternally rotating vortex of flame.


    A reflection of the shape of his Fear¡­ if I was to get all poetic about it.


    His father shook his head, but a look of pride showing on his expression.


    "The remnants of the Rampage may wield their Phobias, but there have never been reports of any with the ability to Fearshape. This girl called her Fear into reality ¨C spearing the knight through with needles of ice."


    Caledon nodded, anticipating the rejection of his first theory. It was always unlikely that she had been undead.


    For one, the guards would have taken notice, and she would have been incinerated. Everyone remembered the atrocity of the Revenants. A mere decade was not sufficient to heal the wounds that the Deathbringer had inflicted.


    "The second possibility¡­ could she have been Feartouched?"


    Feartouched. The term to describe particularly unfortunate elves whose Fear had deteriorated to the point where it physically manifested.


    Caledon still remembered when he had visited the Dreadwood as a young boy, his father had introduced him to an elf who made flowers bloom where she walked.


    Viveria interjected.


    "That¡¯s impossible Cally. Feartouched can¡¯t control how their Fears manifest like Fearshapers."


    Caledon crossed his arms and nodded.


    "The final, most likely possibility. She¡¯s a survivor of the Rampage. A Fearshaper that evaded the Deathbringer¡¯s massacre."


    His father nodded.


    "Our preliminary investigations have revealed that she joined the orphanage around ten years ago, likely a victim of the Rampage of Undeath. But she is a known element in the lower circles, and has never shown even the slightest signs of being a Fearshaper."


    His father¡¯s eyes burned. His lips turned into a conspiratorial smile.


    "Proceed on the assumption that isn¡¯t the case, son."


    How could his father be so sure? Does he know something that we don¡¯t?


    Caledon wracked his brain for solutions, trying to puzzle out the presence of a Fearshaper that was not an undead, not a Feartouched elf who had managed to impossibly manifest their Fears consciously, or a surviving Fearshaper from the Rampage.


    "Those are the only explanations I can think of, I¡¯m sorry."


    Lord Semille slammed the table before him.


    "What does it matter what she was! Enough of this nonsense, we must depart immediately if we are to catch her. I will delight in returning the pain she¡¯s inflicted me, a hundredfold."


    His sister cut in, to Lord Semille¡¯s annoyance.


    "Send me after her father."


    "No. This is a job for Caledon."


    The Highlord just sat, looking at him. Caledon noticed what his sister was oblivious to. The way he clenched his hands. Tension coloured his expression.


    "But¡­ father¡­"


    Viveria shifted uncomfortably, hesitating to say what was clearly on her mind.


    Caledon can¡¯t fight. He doesn¡¯t have it in him.


    Bless her for considering his ego, leaving the words unsaid. His father rose, walking over to place a reassuring hand on his sister.


    "There comes a time when we all have to do things that we might detest Vivy."


    He turned to Caledon. Pulling his shoulders back, adopting a familiar stance - parade rest.


    It became apparent to Caledon that this wasn¡¯t a request, from father to son.


    It was an order from his Highlord.


    "Lord Caledon Brimstone, I charge you with bringing the orphan Shiver to justice for her attempted murder of Lord Semille, of House Flora."


    His eyes lingered on his son.


    Caledon nodded, his expression impassive.


    But his mind was awhirl. There was something hidden in his father¡¯s words.


    His instructions were never imprecise ¨C his orders unequivocal.


    Bring her to justice?


    His father¡¯s gaze fell on Lord Semille, as if silently requesting for a moment together with his son, before Caledon departed. The lord just sneered at him, remaining seated right where he was.


    The seeds of suspicion began to sprout in his mind.


    Caledon saluted, snapping his arm across his chest.


    "Yes Highlord."


    His father gave him a nod, then sat back into the chair with a heavy sigh.


    "Ok, ok. Enough of the pomp and ceremony. Doesn¡¯t suit me, eh kids?"


    Lord Semille glared at Caledon. Yet he stood, waiting.


    Viveria was clearly frustrated that she hadn¡¯t been entrusted with the mission. And yet, she pushed down her qualms and gave Caledon a hug.


    "You¡¯ve got this Cally. Come back safe."


    Caledon sat back, closing his eyes, and enjoying the warmth and company of his father and sister, he knew it would be a while before he would spend time with them like this.


    All he wanted was to be with them. Viveria whispered into his chest, squeezing him in her hug.


    As her mouth drew close to his ear, she spoke.


    "I hope you never come back."


    Time seemed to draw to a halt as Caledon froze.


    Viveria released him from his hug, staring at him with eyes devoid of the warmth she always reserved for him.


    Her mouth twisted into a sickening grin.


    "Did you think I truly wanted you back safe? That any of us did?"


    A deeper voice punctuated the air.


    His father.


    The Highlord shared a similar grin, his teeth ground as he bore down on him.


    "I¡¯m sending you to die son. That¡¯s all you¡¯re really good for."


    Caledon¡¯s heart rate leapt, his breathing becoming shallow. Their words sowed distrust whenever he experienced the barest hint of comfort. He curled into a ball, clasping his hands over his ears.


    An eternity seemed to pass as he shut out the voices. He felt someone shake him lightly.


    "Caledon, Caledon? It happened, didn¡¯t it?"


    His sister and father surrounded him, worried expressions on their faces. He stared at them.


    His sister laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, a look of concern plain on her face.


    "Caledon?"


    He gritted his teeth, looking at his sister.


    "Viveria calls me Cally."


    Viveria paused, looking at him in confusion.


    Panic rose in his chest. He immediately doubted his suspicions.


    Then, she snapped in close with unnatural agility, her head bent at an unnatural angle. He tried not to flinch as his Fears were confirmed.


    "Does she? I¡¯ll keep that in mind."


    His Fear shade grinned a terrible grin before it returned to its previous look of concern, the episode finally over. He was breathing heavily, his father and sister watching in silence.


    They of all people, knew of his Fear.


    It was a strange one. Most elves feared physical threats to them, in the many forms that came.


    The elements, instruments of war, even animals. But rarer still were Fears that were abstract, concepts.


    His Fear?


    It was a Fear of comfort.


    Unlike most other elves, he couldn¡¯t recall when it had first awakened in him.


    All he remembered were the subtle, twisted ways that it influenced his perception of reality when he felt at ease. In the presence of the hearth, where his family assembled, insulated from the problems and responsibility of ruling.


    Sometimes, it twisted his perception altogether, of the people that he loved the most.


    Caledon forced a smile, turning to reassure his father and sister as reality returned.


    Lord Semille just observed, a mixture of confusion and impatience on his expression. The man still hadn¡¯t moved an inch from his seat. Refusing to give his father the chance to slander him behind his back to Caledon, no doubt.


    To Semille, it would have looked like Caledon had been spacing out staring into the distance ¨C that was what the others saw when his Fear reared its ugly head, and he was caught in a lie.


    "Sorry about that, you know how it gets."


    It was a familiar lie he told others, and to himself, as if it would diminish his Fear.


    The hearth blazed on, uncaring.


    The shadows it cast danced on, as if to mock him.


    ---


    Highlord Berevan let out a sigh as his children and Lord Semille Flora left his office.


    No doubt, Caledon and Lord Semille were set to leave Brimstone at haste, on Shiver¡¯s heels.


    Between his two children, Caledon had always been the one to explore his curiosity; to question unceasingly.


    Berevan let out a soft, gruff laugh as the memories of a chubby young lad returned to him, showering him with questions. Not much had changed since then.


    He did not have a doubt, that Caledon had deciphered his intent. He had every confidence in his son.


    His thoughts fell on the package. What he had expected to receive from the Dreadwood. Stolen from Lord Semille.


    His receipt of it was not what was important.


    It was what it stood for.


    In that regard, Highlady Solastra Flora had delivered, that much was clear.


    Whether it would be a miracle or a curse, only time would tell.

 Chapter 13: Revenant

    Shiver woke to a nightmare of ice, the chill penetrating into her bones.


    A blizzard howled around her, conjuring up a feeling of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. A symptom of being so utterly surrounded by her Fear of ice.


    Her eyes adjusted to the dark.


    She stood alone, in a dark forest. Despite the blizzard that surrounded her, the space above her head was clear. The twin moons of Elucidor - Valefor and Idriel - shone down on the landscape, bathing her surroundings in a mixture of golden and silver light.


    Then, her memories of recent events began to return to her.


    Killing Dag.


    Stabbing that lord through his neck.


    Absconding from Brimstone on horseback, picked up by a stranger, whom she couldn¡¯t recall.


    She heard the crunch of footsteps on snow, in the darkness before her. She felt a familiar burn of ice in her hands.


    She looked down at the twin daggers, sporting blades of ice. Holding them numbed her fingers, which were already devoid of feeling from the storm around her.


    Shiver watched, as a figure stumbled out of the darkness. Mousey brown hair tied up in familiar pigtails. The little girl stumbled forward unsteadily.


    "Blaze? Blaze!"


    Shiver leapt forward, catching the smaller girl¡¯s wrists and pulling her into a tight hug.


    "It¡¯s ok little firefly. I¡¯m here now. Everything¡¯s going to be o-"


    Shiver¡¯s eyes widened as she felt something slice into her side. She pushed Blaze away. A dark shard of ice had been driven into her side, albeit weakly. Her eyes snapped to Blaze.


    The girl she knew was nowhere to be seen.


    Dead eyes, devoid of their characteristic mischief.


    Blood mixed with her tears that had frozen in their path down her face.


    An ice shade. The very same as the others that haunted her.


    Shiver¡¯s anxiety melted away. The sounds of the storm raging around her melted into the background as her vision tinged red.


    That¡¯s right. Blaze, Marta and Pov. They were dead, and she was to blame.


    Her mind was flooded with the memory of Marta, Pov and Blaze, their bodies mutilated beyond recognition but their faces remaining as beautiful as they were in life.


    Her ice daggers dissipated into shards of ice as she released them.


    She felt an overwhelming urge to drive the shards lodged into her side further into her body.


    Penance for her sins.


    Blaze¡¯s shade shivered intensely, at unnatural intervals as she stalked closer to her.


    "Fight it Shiver."


    Shiver¡¯s eyes snapped open, as she whirled, trying to pinpoint the source of the feminine voice.


    "Who are you? Where-"


    "She¡¯s a product of your Fear. Do not succumb to it. A distraction."


    Shiver shook her head at the imaginary voice.


    "I deserve what I have coming. It¡¯s my fault she¡¯s dead!"


    The storm raged on around her, her words escaping from her in shout. A familiar large figure emerged from the storm behind her, trailing Blaze.


    "Will you let their memory be sullied like this? Used against you?"


    Tears fell from Shiver¡¯s eyes, unbidden.


    "I deserve it."


    "No."


    Shiver recoiled as the storm itself appeared to speak to her. The blizzard around her slowed to a crawl. Shiver gasped as she was the cold momentarily fled, replaced with warmth.


    "Do not let their light be tainted. Protect their memory."


    Just as suddenly as it had come, the warmth fled, time resuming around her. She felt the hilts of her daggers return to her palms once more.


    She exploded into motion, letting out a scream. She tore her daggers across Blaze¡¯s throat, immediately following up by throwing a dagger at Marta behind her.


    The figures exploded into shards, and she was alone once more, weeping.


    Another figure emerged from the storm before her.


    Pov.


    Behind him, an all too familiar face, her own.


    The shade had an arm over Pov¡¯s shoulders. Mirroring her own actions when she was with him, as if to mock her.


    A shade that wore her own face. Its lips parted to an unnatural degree, her grey cheeks parting to reveal a smile filled with black fangs.


    A nightmare¡¯s smile.


    Shiver steeled herself, pushing down the guilt that threatened to tear her apart from within. And strangely, as she did, she felt a connection to the storm of ice that raged around her. Her awareness of the blizzard filled her with a numbness and chill like nothing she had ever felt.


    The cold and pain so intense that it burned in her blood.


    Then, Shiver smiled, a rictus of a grin to match her doppelganger¡¯s.


    Pain? That was easy. It was the least of what she deserved.


    She screamed as she lunged forwards, rushing towards Pov and her ice shade, plunging her daggers into their chests.


    She laughed, tasting her own blood. She fell to her knees, sudden exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her.


    She raised her head, watching as two new figures appeared from behind the raging blizzard winds, hand in hand.


    A woman and a man.


    Unlike the other shades she had encountered, their skin was unmarked by the passage of frost, their eyes free from tears of frozen blood.


    They looked like ordinary people.


    The man was lanky, with shoulder-length wavy hair sporting a pair of rectangular glasses.


    The woman next to him, however, stole Shiver¡¯s attention.


    She stalked forward with an elegance and grace that she could only dream of emulating. She was beautiful, with long, ashen-silver hair falling to her waist, defying the storm around it.


    She seemed to be at home in the cold around her. Her armour was sleek, putting even Highlord Berevan¡¯s to shame in its artistry.


    Wings of ice, comprised of innumerable shards of frost spread out behind her, and where she walked, the storm seemed to slow.


    But of all of her striking features, the woman¡¯s eyes stood out to her the most.


    The last thing that she perceived before her nightmare came to an end.


    Eyes the colour of snow in a thunderstorm.


    ---


    Shiver awoke as the world around her bounced, rising with a groan. Just as she did, she realised that she was not, in fact, on the floor of her homely cave, but on a horse.


    A particularly boney one.


    She flailed, barely catching herself as she narrowly avoided a tumble into the snow.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "Ah Shiver, you¡¯re finally awake. I¡¯ve been waiting for an eternity."


    Vale turned to look at her, unconvincingly hiding a look of concern.


    "Are you alright? You were out for a while."


    Shiver groaned as she righted herself behind Vale. She looked back down at the steed they had mounted.


    "Why are we riding an undead horse?"


    Vale avoided her gaze. Shiver saw the girl¡¯s hands tighten around the sides of the horse¡¯s skull.


    They rode on in silence. Shiver watched as Vale¡¯s shoulders slumped slightly.


    "I¡¯m a lady from¡­ House Revenant."


    She could sense the girl¡¯s tension. The furtive glimpses she shot at Shiver, afraid of judgement. Vale sat bolt upright, her shoulders rigid and knuckles white.


    "So¡­ You took part in the Rampage?"


    "N-no! You mean the Rampage of Undeath? That happened a decade ago! I was only ten years old!"


    "Well? Didn¡¯t send any undead to the Archcities to stabby-stab the living?"


    Shiver mimed quick strikes in the air in front of her. Vale looked on in horror.


    "No! I did not. Besides, I¡¯m not a Fearshaper."


    Shiver just questioningly cast her gaze down to the undead horse they were seated on, before returning to meet her gaze.


    Vale blushed, as she stuttered.


    "Marrow was¡­ stolen from my father."


    Shiver laid back on the horse¡¯s back, staring up at the Verscallian Peaks that bordered them.


    "Then you aren¡¯t any different from any other noble to me. Relax princess. You don¡¯t have anything to fear from me. For the most part."


    Vale scoffed in disagreement.


    "In the short time since I¡¯ve had the pleasure of meeting you, you¡¯ve pulled me into a heist, thrown me into a crab pit, forced me to subdue those crustaceans at the peril of my own life, and made me an accessory for murder when you sent a dagger through the neck of that lord! If I hadn¡¯t intervened, you would be dead. We barely escaped with our lives ¨C ¡°nothing to fear from you¡±?"


    Shiver struggled to stop herself from rolling her eyes, but she could sense the girl¡¯s visible relief.


    "We¡¯ve got bigger problems."


    "And what might they be, Shiver?"


    "Your horse¡­ Marrow was it? He¡¯s a touch malnourished."


    Said horse turned to regarded Shiver with empty eye sockets.


    "Now I believe he¡¯s giving me sass."


    The pair of them rode on in silence. They rode between a mountain passage, guarded from the gales of the snowstorm that raged around the Winterlands.


    "Are you¡­ alright Shiver? I¡¯m sorry. For what happened. I saw them. They¡­ were kind people."


    Vale was met with hollow laughter.


    "Just what comes from associating with me. Ending up burnt to a crisp. By the big man, Highlord Berevan Brimstone himself."


    "Shiver! It wasn¡¯t your fault. Don¡¯t blame yourse-"


    "Wasn¡¯t it? They sheltered Blaze after she stole from lord, just like I taught her. They must have followed me right back to their home."


    Shiver bit her lip, so hard that Vale was concerned blood would surface.


    "Their only mistake was caring for a wretch like me. There¡¯s only one thing I can do for them now."


    Vale¡¯s eyes widened as she saw two blades of ice manifest in Shiver¡¯s hands. She wore an empty smile on her face, dull eyes staring into the depths of her blades of frost.


    No¡­ It can¡¯t be.


    "Don¡¯t worry. I wouldn¡¯t expect a lady like you to understand. Living a life, pampered by your parents. Escaping expectation and power."


    Silence filled the air, as they proceeded on their path through the mountains.


    "There you go with your assumptions, like always. You don¡¯t know anything about me."


    "Oh? Anything I should know?"


    "You aren¡¯t the only one seeking revenge."


    Vale gave Shiver a smile of despair to rival her own.


    "Who¡¯s on your list?"


    "My father."


    Shiver turned to stare at her, before letting out a low whistle.


    "So old Vetrian Revenant is alive. You want to kill the Deathbringer himself. That¡¯s why you came to Brimstone."


    Shiver¡¯s smile finally reached her eyes. They burned with cold conviction.


    "Searching for something capable of killing him?"


    Vale nodded.


    "I chanced upon some writings in my father¡¯s library. By an ¡°Olthamus Veringold¡± which spoke of an Archcity hidden in the Verscallian Peaks. It was my father¡¯s latest obsession. It had a name."


    "Well, don¡¯t keep me in suspense."


    "Anhedonia, the Archcity of Fear."


    The two sat in silence. Shiver had never heard of such an Archcity.


    The Archcities had been constructed centuries ago, at the height of elven civilisation. Each were marvels of construction, the works of Fearshapers that had long since passed.


    Brimstone, the Archcity of Flames birthed unparalleled craftsmen and innovation.


    The Dreadwood, the Archcity of Life housed flora and fauna of every conceivable form, acting as the grainstore of elven civilisation.


    Somnolence , the Archcity of Dreams housed the palace from which rulers made the decisions which would shape elven civilisation.


    An Archcity of Fear?


    Shiver felt her skin tingle at the mention of it.


    What secrets would such an Archcity hold?


    "Olthamus wrote of a place where Fearshapers awakened. He hypothesised that Anhedonia¡¯s academy had been responsible for a renaissance of Fearshaping."


    Shiver¡¯s brows knitted together in a frown.


    "A renaissance?"


    "Renaissance is a word that refers to the revival of-"


    "I know what ¡°renaissance¡± means. Do you think I¡¯m an idiot?"


    "Don¡¯t ask stupid questions Shiver. Of course I think you¡¯re an idiot."


    Shiver grinned. Then she pursed her lips, continuing.


    "What precisely did this Archcity achieve?"


    Vale shook her head, frowning.


    "He didn¡¯t say, specifically. The only line I can think of¡­ Olthamus mentioned that it brought ¡°Serenity¡± within the reach of elves. I haven¡¯t the slightest clue what that means."


    Vale raised her gaze, meeting Shiver¡¯s.


    "My father discovered it. He said as much to my siblings and I. But no matter how hard I searched, he never left behind a trace of its location. All I was left with was the writings of Olthamus, and a mention of the Verscallian Peaks. I journeyed to Brimstone in search of leads."


    Shiver sighed, as she twirled a dagger in her hand.


    "That¡¯s why you were so interested in the archaeologist¡¯s guild. If only we had found a lead in Aveline¡¯s office. It was a shame our grand heist was a failure-"


    Vale pulled out a page from beneath her cloak, a smug look painted on her face.


    "Not a total failure."


    Shiver¡¯s mouth fell open.


    "While you were busy playing with relics, I found Aveline¡¯s diary."


    "You what?"


    Vale handed her the parchment, which depicted a map of the Winterlands. A chill fell over her as she studied the map. They were headed down a pass which led straight to where Anhedonia was marked.


    "This has Brimstone marked as a mining outpost. That can¡¯t be right. This path we¡¯re following leads to a dead end. And yet¡­"


    Shiver and Vale stared as the path they were following between the mountains tapered to end in a solid cliff face that melded into an enormous mountain above them.


    "This is where the Archcity is marked."


    Vale lost her smug smile at the sight of Shiver¡¯s body shaking. The girl was convulsing, covering her face.


    "Shiver, are you-"


    Peals of her laughter rang out in the mountain pass that surrounded them. Shiver desperately wiped tears that ran from her eyes. She sported a wide grin of mischief.


    "You¡¯re telling me, princess¡­ That you escaped Vetrian Revenant himself, the Deathbringer, with only the name of an obscure archaeologist in hand. Crossed the seas to reach Brimstone, the devil¡¯s arsehole, and managed to steal the current guildmistress¡¯ diary. All in an effort to kill dear daddy?"


    Vale blushed in embarrassment.


    "Well¡­ you don¡¯t have to put it like that-"


    "You¡¯re bloody Insane. You¡¯re a Feardamned inspiration, my lady. I was wrong about you."


    As Shiver wiped a tear from her eye, she turned her gaze to the undead horse they were riding on.


    "Oh dead horsey, they grow up so fast, don¡¯t they. One moment she¡¯s catching crabs, the next she¡¯s plotting to kill the Deathbringer. And they tell me my lessons don¡¯t work-"


    "Shiver¡­ you do know that your lessons occurred after I had made up my mind-"


    "This must be how it feels to raise a kid you can be proud of."


    Then, abruptly, her expression soured. Her mind far away.


    She¡¯s thinking of her family.


    Vale noticed the shift and quickly interceded.


    "I did pretty well, didn¡¯t I? One might say, I¡¯m even more impressive than you."


    Shiver¡¯s gaze met her eyes and stuck her tongue out at her.


    "You wish, princess. All that¡¯s left to do, is discover a lost Archcity and find, or become something capable of killing a Highlord. Easy."


    The glint of mischief returned to Shiver¡¯s eyes, and Vale breathed a sigh of surrender.


    "It wouldn¡¯t be fun without a challenge."


    ---


    They finally came to a halt at the end of the mountain pass. They stared at the remains of a camp ¨C undoubtably an expedition that had been arranged by the archaeologist¡¯s guild.


    The skeleton of their campsite remained, buried in snow that had since enveloped the equipment left behind by the archaeologists.


    "Feardamnit. They¡¯ve already been here. What do we do, Shiver?"


    Vale gazed around the area helplessly.


    "It looks like they¡¯ve already searched for an entrance and failed."


    Shiver snorted, and walked close to the surface of the mountains that boxed them in.


    "I wouldn¡¯t trust those archaeologists as far as I could throw them. Reading some of the reports I¡­ borrowed, it was clear how tardy they were. Most of them in search of a quick buck or glory."


    Vale sighed, and she placed her arm on the cliff surface at the very end of the mountain pass. Exhaustion was creeping into her limbs. She hadn¡¯t slept a wink since last night, narrowly evading the thugs that had come to Shiver¡¯s cave in search of something. She had spent the night searching Brimstone¡¯s surrounds for Shiver unsuccessfully ¨C until she had encountered her in front of the Trobid home.


    "Don¡¯t give up so easily, prince-"


    As Shiver placed her hand on the same stone slab that Vale had, she fell-


    Right into the stone.


    Vale screamed at the sight of half of Shiver¡¯s body, sticking out of impermeable stone.


    "Shiver!"


    Then she watched as the elf began to kick her legs, her torso still obscured from her vision.


    Shiver remerged, a triumphant look in her eyes, and Vale sighed in relief.


    Though she knew, the crazy orphan would never let her hear the end of it.

 Chapter 14: Anhedonia

    The illusory cliff face concealed a large cave entrance.


    They were cloaked in darkness the moment they entered it. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust. Marrow ¨C the apt name Vale had given her steed ¨C fell to the ground, his bones turning to dust, and coalescing into a set of knucklebones that Vale stored in a pouch.


    "I¡¯ve never seen anything like it."


    Shiver was repeatedly sticking her head through the illusory wall. The image of it was uncanny and Vale was getting nauseous.


    "Sh-Shiver, won¡¯t you stop that. We should rest a moment."


    She finally relented and took a seat beside Vale. They stared up at the stalactites that covered the cave ceiling as their eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness.


    "You said your father discovered the Archcity."


    Vale shifted uncomfortably, and nodded.


    "He hasn¡¯t physically left Soulhaven. He doesn¡¯t need to. He spoke of planning to send his servants to investigate on his behalf."


    "We¡¯ll have to be on the lookout then. I¡¯m surprised we haven¡¯t run into any yet."


    Vale¡¯s stomach let out a deep rumble, and she covered her face in her hands.


    "I don¡¯t suppose you packed any food with you when you left?"


    "Don¡¯t blame me! Those thugs came by, and I had to run before they caught me."


    "Let¡¯s hope we can find something to eat in the Archcity then."


    In the ancient, lost Archcity of Fear concealed by illusions so persuasive it thwarted the archaeologist¡¯s guild?


    Vale didn¡¯t fancy their chances.


    "I¡¯m hungry too!"


    "What was that, princess?"


    "I didn¡¯t say anything."


    The pair of them exchanged a glance. They rose quickly, on alert, scanning their dark surroundings with difficulty. Then Vale¡¯s eyes widened.


    "Who said¡­ Shiver! On your shoulder!"


    "Hello!"


    "What in Avalkin¡¯s hairy-! Get it off me! Vale!"


    Vale ran towards her, grabbing the tail of her cloak and started to whack her with a little more enthusiasm than was really necessary.


    "No, no stop! Ugh!"


    The ice cube fell onto the cave floor below. A muffled voice emerged.


    "Ooh its freezing down here. Comfy."


    "Shiver¡­ what is that?"


    "I don¡¯t know."


    The pair of them stared down at the sentient ice cube that lay still in the impression it had created in the snow.


    "This voice¡­ it¡¯s familiar¡­ you were in my dream."


    "A dream?"


    Shiver knelt next to the ice cube, a dagger in hand.


    "I sure was! Nice to meet you Shiver, I¡¯m you¡¯re guide!"


    Shiver ignored the ice cube, exchanging a glance with Vale.


    "You¡¯re seeing this thing too right?"


    "Hey! I¡¯m not a thing! I¡¯m a living, breathing-"


    "Goodness, what could it be? I¡¯ve never seen anything like it before. Did you mention that you saw it in a dream?"


    "I did¡­ It was¡­ giving me a motivational speech."


    "Ahem. If you would be so kind as to pick me up. As comfortable as this spot is."


    The pair stared on in silence, unmoving.


    "Any time now¡­"


    Vale looked to Shiver, her hands grasping the undead horse¡¯s reigns.


    "What should we do with it?"


    "Leave it, let¡¯s go."


    "Oh my, just wait a mome-"


    "Are you sure? It seems harmless? And friendly?"


    "I don¡¯t know¡­ I¡¯ve never seen a trustworthy-looking ice cube. Popsicles are better."


    The ice cube remained silent, seemingly having resigned itself to its fate. Shiver finally knelt, picking the ice cube up with care.


    "That¡¯s better! Finally, I have the opportunity to correct a misunderstanding. I¡¯m far grander than any ¡°popsicle¡±... I resent the comparison! I¡¯m your guide, Shiver, as I¡¯ve been trying to tell you. It¡¯s nice to meet you!"


    "A guide?"


    "Yes! As you must know, guides are assigned to Fearshapers to aid in your descent into your Fear!"


    Vale¡¯s mouth dropped open.


    "So it is true! You are a Fearshaper! There¡¯s hardly a way you could have conjured those ice daggers otherwise!"


    Vale gasped, the realisation hitting her.


    "YOU¡¯RE OF NOBLE BLOOD!"


    "Noble blood?"


    Vale huffed, staring down Shiver, who diligently avoided her gaze.


    "After all of the strife you put me through for being a lady, throwing me to the crabs to ¡°humble me¡±, you¡¯ve been a noble all along! Only nobles can be Fearshapers, though I don¡¯t know of any that wield the power of ice¡­"


    Shiver shrugged, scratching her head with practiced nonchalance.


    "Well, I never knew my parents, and they¡¯re dead to me for all the help they¡¯ve bee-"


    "Silence."


    The ice cube¡¯s voice cut through their exchange, stopping them in their tracks. The winter wind battering the illusory wall seemed to momentarily halt.


    Goosebumps erupted along Vale¡¯s arms as a sudden chill washed over her. She took an instinctive step away from the ice cube.


    "Becoming a Fearshaper is the right of all elves."


    Somewhat ironically, the ice cube¡¯s tone turned warm and motherly, as if gently chiding them for making a small mistake but speaking with an authority that surprised the pair. It seemed to assume that this was common knowledge to Shiver and Vale.


    "That can¡¯t be right! Only the noble families have ever produced Fearshapers."


    The ice cube fell silent, as if pondering Vale¡¯s words. Shiver manifested the daggers she had called upon in her fight with the lord.


    "You¡¯re telling me I¡¯m a Fearshaper?"


    The ice cube beamed up at her.


    "That¡¯s right!"


    "And where Highlord Berevan has a phoenix for a guide¡­ I got an ice cube? I thought I picked a [Mythic] guide."


    At her words, the ice cube fell silent. As the silence drew on, Vale gave the ice cube a pitying look.


    "Oh, stop it, Shiver. Miss? If I may address you as such, don¡¯t mind my companion¡¯s temperament, it took me a bit to get used to her. My name is Vale R- ahem, Vale. How may we address you?"


    Shiver continued with her muttering.


    "Why couldn¡¯t you have been a popsicle instead."


    "Shiver stop being ungrateful. Let her speak!"


    They paused, looking expectantly at the cube. With a soft voice, she replied.


    "You may call me¡­ Icey."


    The crack of thunder reverberated throughout the cave from the outside. The howl of the wind grew louder, the telltale sign of an oncoming blizzard.


    You had to hand it to the ice cube.


    She had a great sense for drama.


    ---


    Vale continued forwards, trailing after their new companion who scouted ahead. She cast furtive glances back towards Shiver, trying to catch a glimpse of her expression without betraying her concern.


    Shiver¡¯s face was shrouded in darkness, and since Icey¡¯s arrival, she had just trudged forward in silence.


    She¡¯s taking this hard. What can I do for her?


    Vale let out a sigh, as she continued onwards, delving further into the cave. Icey was their saving grace, as shrouded in the dark as they were. Without her to help navigate for them, Vale wouldn¡¯t have been surprised if they ended up lost, never to see the surface again.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "Psst. Vale."


    Vale¡¯s eyes widened, and she turned to Shiver. As she approached, she made out her expression. Calm and serene, a hint of mischief in her eyes.


    Vale frowned.


    Of course she¡¯s pretending. She doesn¡¯t want me to worry.


    The girl hung back, allowing Shiver to catch up to her.


    "What do you make of my companion? Do you know much about guides?"


    Vale let out a smug laugh.


    "Would you look at that, the genius stumped. Your lack of even elementary knowledge disappoints me."


    "How very helpful of you. What would you have me do to persuade you to share your wisdom? Perhaps you would like your boots licked and shined, my lady?"


    Vale yelped as she heard Shiver rasp, presumably collecting saliva in her mouth and preparing to spit it in her direction.


    "You¡¯re truly feral aren¡¯t you? Oh very well¡­ I suppose I should start with Fearshaping."


    While Vale¡¯s tone had remained steady, Shiver sensed a tension that entered her voice, where it had previously been absent.


    "Even given my¡­ noble birth¡­ my father and our tutors kept knowledge of Fearshaping under lock and key. My elder siblings obtained guides, and began their descent into their Fears. They never told me just how they began their descent."


    Vale winced as her thoughts turned to her siblings.


    "Perhaps it''s no surprise, they''d sooner kill me than share any useful information."


    Shiver raised an eyebrow. She couldn''t help but feel impressed by Vale¡¯s nonchalance.


    "Each began their journey by visiting Somnolence, the Archcity of Dreams ¨C but they revealed nothing more. Only that those who were deserving ¨C the nobility ¨C had the right to begin their descent."


    "Their¡­ ¡°descent¡±?"


    "Yes, their descent. From what we were told of guides, their purpose is to pave a way through the depths of your Fear, until you are released from it. Oh wait a minute... that must be what "Serenity" means. The word in Olthamus'' journal."


    Shiver froze. It was widely known that Fearshaping was a power reserved for the nobility, the chosen. In addition to gaining absurd power, now she was to believe that they eventually became free of their Fears?


    Pov had told her a long time ago, that Fears came in all forms.


    Fears of tangible objects ¨C like Dag¡¯s Fear of blades or her own Fear of ice.


    Even intangible concepts, though rarer, like Pov¡¯s own Fear of destitution.


    Shiver remembered the instant her Fear had manifested. Once it had, her life had changed irrevocably.


    For her, it had come in the form of panic at the sight or feel of the cold. Hallucinations of shades, that gradually came to bear the appearance of people in her life.


    For Pov, his Fear had fostered hoarding tendencies. It had led him to greed and obsession, that threatened to destroy him. Which was when he had met Marta. She was one of the rare few elves whose Fears had not emerged. For many, it was just a matter of time.


    No one had been there to rescue Shiver.


    And she would be Feardamned if she was going to live out a life of centuries fixated on the object of her Fear.


    Now though¡­


    "You¡¯re telling me, that you nobles were the only ones that had the means to escape your Fears this whole time?"


    Vale winced. They had both heard what Icey had said to them; it was hard to forget.


    That Fearshaping was a ¡°right of all elves¡±.


    "Tell me, oh wise and noble princess. If Icey is right, why have Fearshapers only ever emerged from the nobility? Hoarding the power that it brings?"


    Vale remained silent. She whispered under her breath.


    "I don¡¯t know. It goes against everything I was ever taught."


    Shiver snorted derisively, and Vale turned to her in annoyance.


    "Well. It sounds like you¡¯re blaming me. I¡¯m not having any of it, you crazy orphan."


    Shiver¡¯s gaze burned into her, with unexpected vitriol.


    "You did not see the orphans that were driven to Insanity. Who lost themselves to their nightmares and hallucinations, and their grasp on reality. With no one to support them. Forgive me, princess, if I¡¯m angry that only the nobility were granted the right to free themselves from their Fear."


    Silence fell between them. Only the dripping of water from stalactites to the cave floor could be heard.


    Shiver¡¯s voice broke through the silence, carrying a hint of remorse at her outburst.


    "I¡¯m sorry. You should have seen them, Vale. Even Mother Ventra had her own demons to manage. For all of her faults, she looked out for us. Children with nothing. She used to be better, before her Fear drove her to Tranquillity. It stole her from us completely."


    Vale met Shiver¡¯s gaze in confusion. The term was unfamiliar to her.


    "Tranquility?"


    Shiver stared incredulously at her.


    "You truly haven¡¯t heard of it?"


    Vale blushed, just shaking her head.


    "Tranquillity is a drug. One that gives you relief from your Fear."


    Shiver sighed in frustration.


    "Freedom from the constant nightmares, hallucinations, and panic that seeps into your bones. It¡¯s no surprise that so many grow addicted to it."


    She shook her head.


    "Being left without, it only brings symptoms of greater severity with its withdrawals. It creates a destructive cycle, and before you know it, your Fear is far more terrifying than if you had never indulged in the first place.."


    They walked on in silence before Shiver broke it once more.


    "She gave it to us, naively believing that it would help. When it became clear it was a lie, the old hag continued to cling to her flimsy hope. She still offers it to the younger orphans."


    Shiver gritted her teeth.


    "I hated her for it, but in the end, she¡¯s just another victim of her Fear. It doesn¡¯t excuse what she¡¯s done, though."


    Vale turned in her tracks, facing Shiver. Her gaze was solemn.


    "You said to me yourself, that many ladies and lords flee their families to avoid the responsibility of Fearshaping. There¡¯s a reason for it."


    A troubled look reached her eyes, yet Shiver watched as it was gradually overcome by the steel in her expression.


    "Fearshaping is no easy road to peace. They call it a ¡°descent¡± into your Fear for a reason. Every step in your descent drives you closer to Insanity. Most Fearshapers lose themselves to their Fears entirely, before becoming free from their Fears."


    "Then it looks like neither of us have an easy path ahead of us then."


    Vale stared at her in surprise.


    "You knew?"


    "Isn¡¯t it obvious? Why else would you seek out the Archcity of Fear if not to awaken as a Fearshaper?"


    Shiver reached out in the dark, and gave her a hefty thump on her back.


    "Ow!"


    "I underestimated you. Having the guts to call me an ¡°orphan¡± to my face and to challenge the Highlord of death-"


    "Shiver, those two things are not equivalent-"


    "I¡¯m sorry for thinking you were a na?ve, prissy and dull-headed lady."


    Vale hesitated in her tirade. As her eyes passed over Shiver¡¯s expression, it was no longer manufactured to prevent the betrayal of any hint of emotion. The girl looked ragged and tired, like she had lost all of the vitality that she had when they were in Brimstone.


    But¡­


    Vale¡¯s lips slowly formed into a smile.


    "I¡¯m sorry for thinking you were a happy-go-lucky idiot with no sense of responsibility."


    They exchanged a smirk.


    It seemed like Shiver still had a bit of fight left in her.


    "I¡¯ve never heard such strange apologies before¡­ It sounded like you were just insulting each other. Anyway, we¡¯ve arrived!"


    They jumped at Icey¡¯s sudden appearance.


    Before they knew it, an end to the endless darkness finally revealed itself.


    ---


    Beyond them was a door cast in a familiar, dark metal.


    Darksteel, the precious ore that dominated Brimstone¡¯s anvils.


    To cast a door of all things in the metal was such an exercise in excess that the sight of it would have sent the undercity¡¯s smiths into an uproar.


    Icey raced onto Vale¡¯s shoulder, somehow defying gravity as she climbed the side of her body to rest on her shoulder. The little ice cube had doggedly avoided Shiver throughout the length of their journey through the cave. Vale didn¡¯t blame her.


    The girl had treated her with suspicion, brushing off her attempts at connection. Vale understood.


    If she was assigned to Shiver as a guide, she¡¯d resign.


    "Let¡¯s try to open it."


    Shiver stalked forwards, giving the door a tentative push. It resisted briefly, but slowly gave way to her efforts. With Vale¡¯s help, the door creaked open to reveal a stone passageway. It was lined with warm orange orbs, emitting a soft light. They floated a short distance from the walls that they bordered. Glowing orange script lined the walls, appearing to supply them with the necessary power.


    "Pretty! Let¡¯s go!"


    "Wait Ice-"


    Icey burst into motion, rushing through the corridor into the darkness beyond. Shiver cursed as Vale excitedly followed her, throwing caution to the wind.


    Shiver rubbed at her temples. Things were in dire straights if she was the cautious one.


    The corridor led into what appeared to be a large mansion, lit only by the small orange orbs of light. The place was deserted, devoid of any signs of life.


    "Vale, Icey! Get back here."


    Shiver tried to coax her companions back to her, but watched helplessly as they began to ascend a spiral staircase.


    A soft humming emerged from the room above them. A mellow, friendly tenor, accompanied by the enthusiastic rustling of pages.


    Twin daggers crystalised into Shiver¡¯s hands. She held them at a ready, joining Vale as they peeked into the room.


    They noticed a short elf, garbed in a familiar attire. A beige bucket hat, shorts and a brown leather coat emblazoned with a shovel and brush.


    Brimstone¡¯s archaeologist¡¯s guild.


    The stout man sported a handlebar moustache and a pair of round copper glasses. He hummed merrily as he paged through a tome almost a quarter of his size.


    Shiver exchanged a glance with Vale. Then she winced at the sudden sound of his voice.


    "Rooooad to the unknown. Dododododoo¡­ what secrets lie in wait for me, I wonder. What luck, to find this goldmine on an expedition. Aveline would be positively stewing if she could see me now."


    The short elf cackled with hearty laughter, speaking to himself.


    "Why hello there sir!"


    Shiver froze.


    Vale had taken a step forward into the light, unbeknownst to her. She cursed internally, as she saw Vale draw closer to the stranger, who had reacted in surprise to her greeting with a small jump. He quickly broke into a warm smile and a swift bow.


    Shiver cursed her carelessness internally. In all of the excitement and strangeness, she had forgotten that she had a na?ve noble on her hands.


    "Gaah! Oh, a fellow explorer? What luck! Hello there, my name is Pevir, I¡¯m delighted to make your acquaintance. And to whom do I owe the pleasure?"


    "My name is Vale and may I confess Pevir, it is wonderful to finally be graced by such refined company. It truly has been too long."


    Shiver¡¯s eyebrow twitched.


    "Forgive my companion, she¡¯s a little shy, come on out Shiver!"


    Vale made a gesture towards the staircase, dashing Shiver¡¯s plans of covert surveillance.


    Shiver masterfully withheld her exasperation as she stepped forward into the light, holding a dagger behind her, obscured from Pevir¡¯s view.


    You could never be too careful.


    "Oh, how wonderful! I can¡¯t tell you how glad I am to see fellow explorers; it¡¯s been too long!"


    "And where do you hail from Sir Pevir?"


    "Oh, just Pevir would suit perfectly ¨C I¡¯m from Brimstone¡¯s archaeologist¡¯s guild! Are you familiar?"


    Vale coughed in to her fist.


    "Intimately. I¡¯ve heard the guildmistress is quite the character."


    They watched as Pevir burst out into laughter. He wiped away a small tear, and continued chuckling heartily. The pair exchanged a glance.


    "Ahh my beloved niece! I can¡¯t wait to share what I¡¯ve found with Aveline. I¡¯ve been camped out for almost three days now, there¡¯s so much to explore! Do you two hail from Brimstone as well? How did you stumble across an entrance?"


    Vale froze, looking to Shiver in desperation.


    Avalkin¡¯s nutsack. Of course she didn¡¯t think of a plan.


    "Why¡­ we were seeking adventure of course."


    Shiver walked forward with a twinkle in her eye, spreading her arms. The dagger, nowhere to be seen.


    "You of all people would understand Sir Pevir."


    The elf¡¯s moustache twitched into a bright smile, displaying his palpable excitement.


    "We were exploring the wilds ¨C we thought to catch a glimpse of the elusive emberhare ¨C have you heard of the creature?"


    Vale shot Shiver a quizzical glance.


    "I¡¯ve never heard of such a thing."


    "Ah well you see, there have been rumours all around Brimstone of an ancient species of rabbit that live in the mountains, with a flaming coat. Capable of leaping great distances, leaving ash and firelight in their wake."


    Pevir¡¯s eyes widened in amazement as he shook his head.


    "If it weren¡¯t for my prior obligations, those rumours would have enticed me as well."


    "Indeed, indeed sir. The Verscallian Peaks hold many secrets¡­ But if I may be so rude as to enquire ¨C what exactly was the assignment which brought you out here? I am at a loss for where exactly we¡¯ve found ourselves?"


    Vale arched an eyebrow as Shiver continued to play the part of a naive girl, lost in the moods. Shiver shot her a covert glare, which made her flinch, before her expression instantly returned to one of idle curiosity.


    The archaeologist laughed heartily, and adjusted his glasses with a mischevious smile. Utterly oblivious to their silent conversation.


    "Why it was a grand challenge. To uncover a place lost to our histories-"


    He rose from where he was seated ¨C before the enormous book lit inthe flickering light of floating, ethereal orbs pervading the library. Crossing the floor surprisingly nimbly on his short legs, the archaeologist gently withdrew a weathered set of curtains to reveal a sight which made Vale audibly gasp and Shiver¡¯s heart stop.


    They stared, peering through the small gap in the curtains the archaeologist had created.


    "The lost Archcity of Fear ¨C welcome to Anhedonia."

 Chapter 15: Terror

    For as long as Shiver could remember, the Archcities had always been glorified. As a child, Marta and Pov shared stories of the Dreadwood, the Archcity of Life. Home to the Kindly Gardener, Solastra Flora. To describe it as a singular forest would be a gross disservice. They spoke of glades unending, plentiful jungles, swamps and forests that fostered life of every kind. When she had misbehaved, Mother Ventra attempted ¨C quite unsuccessfully ¨C to scare her with rumours of Soulhaven, the Archcity of Death, domain of Highlord Vetrian Revenant.


    The Deathbringer, responsible for the Rampage of Undeath that had swept across the land.


    The problem with being a ¡°lost¡± domain meant that she had failed to invoke the imagery necessary to shake the orphan girl. The haunting image Mother Ventra had sought to build fell apart quickly under her scrutiny.


    Anhedonia, the Archcity of Fear had no such deficiency.


    "Careful, not to get too close to the window."


    Vale looked quizzically at the archaeologist.


    "Why is that?"


    He swallowed, his eyes darting anxiously across the city before them.


    "They might see you."


    A chill washed over them at his words, so bubbly and cheerful at the moment of their sudden appearance, the archaeologist was now tinged with fear.


    "Who might see us?"


    The archaeologist made no response.


    They crept to the small break in the curtains that Pevir created.


    They stared out into an impossibly vast cavern. The mansion they were in appeared to be situated high above the ground, giving them an excellent vantage point.


    Vast orbs of silver light burned over the city like miniature suns.


    Their haunting light filtered through thick, grey fog that shrouded the streets below. They glimpsed a city of dark, elaborate towers interspersed with sweeping buttresses and pointed arches. The scale of which eclipsed Brimstone-


    They froze.


    In the city¡¯s centre stood a clocktower.


    A clockface that emitted a glowing, golden light that threatened to pull them in with its allure. It was a marvel, in itself.


    Yet it was not what drew their attention.


    Or what whispered fear into the deepest parts of their hearts.


    They watched as a creature that dwarfed the towers filling the city, clung to the side of the clocktower. Three wings sprouted from each side of its back, drooping down from the clocktower¡¯s heights into the fog below. It was half the size of the clocktower.


    It lay still, perched on the side of the clocktower. Vale blanched as she watched the figure turn its head, swivelling unnaturally to gaze in their direction. They saw a formless face. Then, its flesh tore apart in six thin lines, and they glimpsed its eyes.


    A halo of black flame burned over an angled head. The flame raged in sacrilegious silence, for screams should have been there to greet it.


    Like a creature from a dream.


    No, a nightmare.


    Vale stumbled back at the sight of it. She realised that she was panting, her heart racing at the very sight of it. Like it had induced-


    "A Terror. Careful not to let it glimpse you."


    Pevir spoke gently, helping Vale to her feet as Shiver continued to gaze out upon the city. He nodded in understanding as he met Vale¡¯s eyes, his own full of awe and Fear.


    "W-what is it, sir Pevir?"


    Vale who had finally gotten her lips to cooperate with her, spoke the question.


    Pevir just shook his head.


    ¡®¡°Terror¡±. It was a term I came across in the remains of an old tome I found. It said that nightmares beyond our imagination once roamed Elucidor, and that was a word for them."


    Pevir shuddered.


    "I can¡¯t imagine it applying to anything else."


    Then the friendly archaeologist relaxed and twitched his moustache into a shy smile. He gave them a quick, theatrical bow, no doubt in an effort to ease their tension.


    "Sorry for the drama. I couldn¡¯t help myself!"


    Vale stared incredulously at the man.


    "You said¡­ ¡°them¡±? There are more than one of them? These nightmares?"


    Vale clutched at his arms, encasing them in a vice-like grip.


    "How can you be so calm? There is a monster out there, roaming the cit-"


    "It isn¡¯t the only Terror that roams the Archcity."


    Silence fell between them once more.


    Pevir met Shiver¡¯s eyes, and he inclined his head towards the window, motioning for her to check the Archcity¡¯s streets below. Vale was still quivering, adrenaline flooding her body at the sight of the unthinkable creature on the clocktower, whose very existence seemed to spite reality.


    Shiver peeled back the curtain, just a sliver.


    Her eyes caught a glimpse of a monumental creature that stalked below.


    Where it strode, grey fog swirled into black, as if leaving shadow in its wake. Shiver couldn¡¯t make out the finer details of its form, which eluded her vision from so high above. She watched in silence as the creature carved a path of darkness through Anhedonia¡¯s streets.


    Her heartbeat continued to thunder in her chest. Then, she turned her eyes back to the clocktower. Drawn by morbid curiosity and fascination to the creatures that strained belief.


    The winged Terror was gone.


    "Quite the sight, isn¡¯t it! My ancestor spoke of the ambition of the Anhedonia with such reverence. Apparently, the city¡¯s academy ushered unprecedented amounts of elves to Serenity in its heyday."


    The stout elf twitched his moustache, heedless to the looks directed at him by his audience.


    "He seemed to refer to it as the youngest Archcity. A strange contradiction. Even the finest of archaeologists make mistakes, I suppose. In any case, please make yourselves at home!"


    Pevir provided Vale with some provisions that he had managed to scrounge up from the mansion. She stared at the bread that he handed her. He pointed her towards a room that they could rest in.


    Their voices gradually faded away, and Shiver lost herself in the image of the Archcity beyond her. Unlike Mother Ventra¡¯s descriptions, which desperately sought to induce fear into a young Shiver, this city did so effortlessly.


    There was a haunting beauty in it - the fog-laden streets, the scale of it, far exceeding even Brimstone, the Archcity of Flames, the forge which drove Elucidor''s industry into a new age.


    Contradictions and mysteries abound.


    It was a pity she didn''t give a Feardamn.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ---


    "Vale, I swear I¡¯ll feed you to the very next crab that I see."


    They sat in the room that Pevir had guided them to. Both of them were exhausted by the journey through the Verscallian Peaks.


    Vale flinched as her eyes met Shiver¡¯s own.


    "Or perhaps you¡¯d prefer if I threw you to the flaming ¡°emberhares¡± that hop around the mountain. What were you thinking, walking up to him?"


    Vale blushed, avoiding Shiver¡¯s gaze. She knew the girl was right, she had been caught up in the moment, excited at the prospect of encountering another elf in the abandoned Archcity. Never mind that it could have been one of her father¡¯s servants.


    "If he wasn¡¯t so trusting, he would have seen through us in an instant. The guildmistress¡¯ uncle no less."


    "Shiver¡­ he seemed nice."


    "Seemed nice? Something¡¯s off."


    Vale paused from her indulgence in some bread that they had scavenged from the manor¡¯s kitchen. Miraculously, some form of preservation had kept it fresh. She hadn¡¯t a clue how long it had been preserved for, but her hunger prevailed over reason.


    Shiver continued, her gaze drilling into Vale.


    "Pevir said he¡¯s been here for about three days. The guild was preparing a rescue operation - you said it yourself. Remember what those men said? Trying to boast to us as we led them to madame Valmira¡¯s?"


    Shiver¡¯s gaze bore into her.


    "That the guild had been searching for him for an ¡°age¡±. Pov agreed to help the guildmistress with her expeditions. None of them have been successful to date."


    Vale had no choice but to agree with Shiver¡¯s reasoning, what she left unsaid.


    Who sends a rescue operation after an archaeologist after three days?


    Either Pov was lying to them, or there was more than meets the eye. The one small mercy was that the man had played the perfect host so far. Busying himself in the books housed in the mansion¡¯s library, humming cheerily as he paged through them. Utterly oblivious to the tension that permeated the neighbouring room in which they were seated.


    Pevir Veringold was warm and talkative. He had excitedly shared the lead that he had discovered in an old family journal, no doubt also belonging to Osthalmus. He told them that he was on his third day in the city, living off preserved food that he had found. He had entered through the very same entrance that the girls had found.


    "I¡¯m sorry, Shiver. I¡¯ll be more careful."


    In a corner of the library, he had set up a cozy forward base ¨C telling them of his intention to return with other members of the guild before he explored the city proper.


    The dangers that lay waiting in a lost Archcity were clear to them, after all.


    The library that he was situated in was far more enormous than it had originally seemed. Rows upon rows of old books filled the shelves that bordered the room. Floating glowing orbs filled the room with a warm glow. Luxurious sofas and refined tables occupied the centre of the room. Pevir told them that he suspected it was a noble¡¯s library ¨C exclusive, refined and excessive in its grandeur.


    "Pevir¡¯s nice! Vale was right, Shiv-"


    "Not a word."


    A tense silence fell between the pair. Icey, lay hidden in the folds of Shiver¡¯s cloak. Equally, Icey had advanced with Vale, heedless of the possible danger. Shiver picked her lightly from her cloak.


    "He doesn¡¯t know you¡¯re here or that I¡¯m a Fearshaper. In any case, we need to come up with a plan."


    Vale yawned, betraying her fatigue.


    "I¡¯ll keep watch, you take the chance to get some rest. But later in the night, I¡¯ll wake you and we¡¯re getting out of here."


    "And how exactly do you propose we do that? Run straight into the Archcity? How do you fancy our chances against one of those Terrors?"


    She shook her head, meeting Shiver¡¯s gaze with resolve.


    "I vote, we stay with Pevir. I¡¯d rather the danger that I know than the danger that I don¡¯t. And does he look that dangerous to you?"


    The pair snuck a covert glance at the little elf, around the corner. Humming merrily away as he paged through another tome perched precariously before him. He caught them looking to their chagrin and shot them a bright smile and a wave.


    "Avalkin¡¯s ballsack Vale. It¡¯s on your head if he turns on us."


    Vale choked at Shiver¡¯s words.


    "Do you really have to use such colourful language?"


    Shiver pushed Vale out of the neighbouring room, back into the library.


    "It''s decided then, let¡¯s set up in here for the night."


    Vale whispered fervently to her.


    "Wait, in the library? I thought we were sleeping in this room? Wha-"


    Shiver rose, starting towards Pevir.


    "Sir Pevir, I¡¯m afraid our fatigue has caught up to us. I hope you wouldn¡¯t mind if we camped with you? It¡¯s better for us to stick together in the Archcity after all. Never know what could be roaming the halls."


    Pevir hopped down from his perch with a stretch and a smile.


    "Of course, my dear girl! Please make yourselves at home. Do make use of my travelling bedroll."


    Shiver returned a smile of gratitude, accepting the offered bedroll which she set up next to the staircase, and in clear view of Pevir¡¯s own nook.


    As she passed a stunned Vale, she whispered to her.


    "You said it yourself. I¡¯d rather the danger I know than the danger I don¡¯t. I¡¯m keeping an eye on him."


    Growing up on the streets, she knew all too well not to trust the mere appearance of kindness.


    Before long, the pair were sound asleep, leaving Shiver awake. Listening to the steady rhythm of their breaths, Shiver walked to the far end of the room, keeping a careful eye on Pevir. Icey was perched on her shoulder and silent. Shiver gently swept one of the immense dark curtains aside, which revealed the eerie sight that Pevir had so theatrically introduced before.


    "Beautiful¡­ Isn¡¯t it?"


    It was hard to gauge Icey¡¯s expression for¡­ obvious reasons.


    But the little cube was impressively animated, both in her actions and intonation. She gave Shiver the impression that she was quite young, prone to bouts of immaturity and wild curiosity.


    But thinking back to her dream, and the authority with which Icey had spoken to her to snap her out of her stupor, she had a feeling that she didn¡¯t have the full picture.


    "This Archcity¡­ brings me sadness."


    "Do you recognise it?"


    "Guides are devoid of their histories and memories when they are first bonded. As you descend, we regain more of our forms, power and experience. But, this city makes me feel a strange sense of-"


    Shiver looked at the ice cube, that glinted in the cold silver light cast by the orbs, that hung like small suns above the city.


    "- grief."


    "Well, we had better get some rest. The city¡¯s secrets will have to wait."


    "That¡¯s quite mature of you."


    "I surprise myself constantly with my self-restraint."


    She paused, plucking Icey from her shoulder gently.


    "For example, I haven¡¯t used you as a popsicle. That¡¯s what will happen, if you get into trouble again, got it?"


    Icey slipped from her fingers and rapidly retreated within the folds of her cloak.


    The seconds drew into minutes. In the quiet of the library, tucked away in the corner of a forgotten Archcity...


    Shiver''s expression finally faltered.


    A crack, appearing in her pristine mask.


    For the very first time since she left Brimstone, she wept.


    Vainly trying to conceal her sobs that threatened to end the silence that permeated the library. Shiver''s fingers curled around dark, weathered curtains. Tears continued to flow as the simple gesture reminded her of the times she had dug her fingers into Marta''s tunic as an annoying little demon child, taunting her.


    What am I even doing here? Chasing revenge? That won''t bring them back to me.


    As the seconds drew onward, her sobs finally drew to a close. There came a point when there were no more tears left to shed. When something scarred you to such a degree where the meagre relief that it brought her was rendered worthless.


    But in the void that her grief left behind... what was there but anger to take root?


    What was left for her, but revenge?


    In place of Pevir''s wonder, or Vale''s angst, Shiver''s cold, cerulean gaze held a different emotion as she stared out over the Archcity that sprawled before her.


    Her eyes roamed the landscape like a predator.


    Not one that stalked the night with pride, or vitriol for the hunt.


    She stared over the Archcity as a predator that had fallen to despair.


    There was only one single, selfish desire that remained in her heart wracked with the cold, along with the faces of the dead that haunted her.


    What do you have to offer me, Anhedonia?


    Shiver let out a soft sigh, and pinched the bridge of her nose.


    As Shiver turned from the window, her breath caught as she spotted something in the reflection.


    Pevir, stood behind her.


    Motionless.


    She hadn¡¯t noticed him rise from his nook, he hadn¡¯t made a sound. His eyes were devoid of their characteristic light. He stood slack in front of her.


    Shiver cursed her clumsiness, having been drawn into her conversation with Icey. She held an arm behind her back, and a dagger of ice materialised in her palm. She spoke loudly, to rouse Vale from her sleep.


    "Pevir? Can I help you?"


    Vale¡¯s body lay slumped in the background, rising and falling rhythmically. The archaeologist didn¡¯t reply.


    Shiver slowly made to circle past him.


    Which was right when a creature emerged from his neck.


    It was serpentine in nature and resembled the skeleton of a snake. The folds of Pevir¡¯s skin stuck to the ribbed edges of the creature¡¯s skeleton as it emerged, provoking a sensation of nausea in her.


    It left no visible injuries when it had fully emerged from his skin. The friendly, stout archaeologist stared ahead into space expressionlessly.


    Shiver lunged past him, but was suddenly hit by a wave of fatigue, as her head started to swim. Her lips became numb and tingled as she struggled to form words to warn Vale.


    The last thing she saw as she fell to the ground was the haunting visage of the creature re-entering Pevir¡¯s neck.


    As Shiver¡¯s vision blurred intermittently, she watched as a man garbed in a familiar black cloak entered the library.


    Surrounded by a large serpentine creature of bone that languidly curled around him in midair.


    As Shiver struggled to grasp the final vestiges of the consciousness, a single word crossed her mind, at the sight of the man.


    Fearshaper.

 Chapter 16: Dignity

    Caledon shivered as droplets of water fell from his cloak. A raging blizzard roared outside, sending gusts of wind hurtling into the cave in which they were sheltered.


    Caledon glanced at Lord Semille leading the expedition to catch the orphan thief who had absconded with his ¡°cargo¡±.


    The conversation with his father had been riddled with intrigue.


    Firstly, was his father¡¯s disproportionate response to the theft committed by the young orphan, Blaze.


    A child.


    According to Lord Semille, he had incinerated her, and her family. The thought of his father doing anything so outrageous provoked a deep anger in him. And yet, his father had not corrected the lord from House Flora when he had stated it as such.


    The second mystery, was his father¡¯s nebulous instructions to bring her to ¡°justice¡±. Not to capture her, or to kill her ¨C perhaps instructions to the former could be implied. But he had not known his father to be so imprecise in the instructions her delivered. He had hammered it into him, after all. Coming to anger at the mistakes of one¡¯s subordinates resulting from their lord¡¯s unclear instructions, was undoubtedly the fault of the lord.


    Finally, his mind came to rest on the third mystery.


    What was Lord Semille¡¯s cargo?


    Caledon had heard House Flora described as the grainstore of elven civilisation.


    He believed it a crass description which failed to capture its importance. The Dreadwood ¨C Archcity of Life - supplied all of the other Archcities with crop, grain, produce and medicine.


    Without its Highlady - Solastra Flora, and her command over all types of vegetation, elven civilisation would starve. Diseases long eradicated would return, and run rampant. All born from her Fear of plants.


    The armour borne by the Knights of the Dreadwood and Semille himself had healed what would have otherwise been fatal wounds. It was a miracle of nature, design and function which Caledon had expressed his interest in studying ¨C to which he was quickly rebuffed.


    "We should continue our pursuit, Lord Semille. Could you send one of your Knights to scout ahead? We need to close off possible paths."


    "Mighty Highlord Berevan¡¯s son, coming to little old me with a request?"


    Lord Semille had sneered at him, and for all of his hatred of violence, Caledon was reminded of its appeal.


    "You can shove that request where it came from, Brimstone brat. Little lordling all high and mighty. A powerless and incompetent runt. I suppose I shouldn¡¯t be surprised given your oaf of a father."


    Lord Semille. The volatile young lord from House Flora who had taken it upon himself to punish the orphan girl who had stolen from him.


    Regrettably, he was a Fearshaper who took after his mother - Highlord Solastra - if only in relation to his Fear of plants.


    How exactly did one develop a Fear of plants?


    Caledon could only guess.


    Many noble houses also sought to instill specific Fears into their progeny. That prompted a further question ¨C how exactly did one instill a Fear of plants?


    Caledon had accepted that he would not be receiving any answers.


    You¡¯re afraid of foliage. Who¡¯s the runt between the two of us, Semille?


    It was unsurprising then, that Caledon had kept his interactions with Semille and the silent Dreadwood knights to a minimum. They had pursued Shiver and her accomplice into the Verscallian Peaks ¨C the immense mountain range that circled the Archcity of Brimstone.


    Caledon¡¯s thought process was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a creature, that flew into the cave at speed. He snapped to his feet, readying his shield in preparation.


    The skeleton of a bird, bearing the distinct beak of a crow with hollow eyes, flew into the cave. Its very presence instinctively repulsed Caledon and had a similar effect on Semille and his knights. It alighted on a rock before them, and his entourage drew their weapons in response.


    The arrogant lordling stiffened at the sight of the creature. Then, the crow opened its beak to an unnatural degree. Caledon raised his shield.


    "Lord of Flora, if your armour is anything to go by. What is your business here?"


    Lord Semille¡¯s body went rigid, but he appeared to relax after registering the crow¡¯s question. Caledon¡¯s hands tightened around his sword and shield.


    Undead? Here? It must be a Fearshaper of death. No¡­ The Revenants are meant to be dead. By my father¡¯s own hand.


    "We are in pursuit of two girls ¨C they have committed crimes against my house, and I am in search of retribution. Who are you?"


    "Lord Triol Revenant. Follow me, I will lead them to you."


    The crow regarded Caledon for a moment, before ascending into the air. Lord Semille scrambled for his belongings and ran to his horse. Caledon followed suit as they chased the crow into the snowstorm outside, his mind racing.


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    Caledon charged through the blizzard, trying to keep track of the undead crow. Which of course, was near impossible as it blended in perfectly with the falling snow. Bolting forwards blindly, he shouted to Lord Semille who had begun to veer off track.


    "Lord Semille! This way!"


    "You, let the lord go before you. Now."


    The crow¡¯s words reached him just in the nick of time, and Caledon pulled on his reins. He watched as Lord Semille hurtled forwards towards the cliff face that had been obscured by the snow.


    Lord Semille flew from his saddle as he unsuccessfully tried to veer away, flying straight towards the mountainside. Caledon winced, clenching his eyes tight. He expected the lord to-


    Semille¡¯s body flew straight through solid stone.


    Caledon¡¯s eyes widened.


    What is this trickery?


    Trotting forward carefully, he extended a hand through the mountainside, and slowly moved through what he had originally thought to be solid rock.


    Emerging on the other side, he saw Lord Semille groaning as he righted himself.


    The first thing Caledon noticed was the silence.


    The howls of the blizzard that had enveloped him previously had abruptly disappeared. He picked himself up from dark, cobbled streets absent of snow.


    His eyes widened as he took in the sight around him.


    A city, like nothing he had ever seen before.


    Buildings which casually tripled or quadrupled the height of the tallest structures in Brimstone. They towered above him, wrought from stone the colour of anthracite and obsidian. Pointed arches pervaded the upper tiers of the towers, casting an imposing silhouette. Silver light filtered down from immense, floating orbs which hovered like miniature suns above the city.


    Fog surrounded the streets around him, and he feared he would lose sight of Lord Semille who was standing only a few feet away from him.


    "Treant¡¯s tits."


    Lord Semille and his knights stared at the city in awe. The pale crow alighted from a nearby structure. It was tall, thin, made of smooth metal. It boasted an orb of light that illuminated the ground before them. The streets were lined with these metallic structures, casting the foggy street in a dim light. The crow dropped open its beak unnaturally wide, and turned its eyes to Caledon.


    That sight, against the backdrop of a city frozen in time ¨C no Archcity ¨C for it could be nothing less ¨C set Caledon¡¯s heart racing, a prickling sensation running down his arms.


    "Keep alert. Terrrors walk Anhedonia¡¯s streets. Keep to the shadows, and your eyes peeled. If you encounter one, run."


    Caledon paled at the crow¡¯s words.


    Terrors? What is he talking about?


    Hearing the words, against the backdrop of a city frozen in time, sent a chill down Caledon¡¯s spine.


    "Hide! Now!"


    The familiar voice that echoed from the crow¡¯s mouth had an uncharacteristic urgency to it. Caledon watched with dread, as the fog which covered the road before him, gradually turned black.


    They rushed into one of the city¡¯s sidestreets, caked in darkness.


    Caledon¡¯s ears rang in the silence. The only thing he could hear was the idle dripping of water that had condensed after he entered the city, from his clothes to the floor below. He could feel the thumping of blood in his ears, drowning out his ability to pick up on subtle noises.


    The seconds continued endlessly, but none of their retinue dared to break the silence.


    Caledon stared into the fog-filled street beside him as what was once grey, turned black as midnight.


    They saw it.


    A creature, towering over them, stalked through the fog. Caledon began to shake. He could make out a familiar shape. Its anatomy was similar, yet its differences were jarring, they provoked a visceral reaction within him.


    It was a wolf. But none like any Caledon had ever glimpsed. It stood just as tall as Brimstone Manor, as it stalked quietly along its path.


    Then, he noticed something dripping from its fur.


    Blood? No¡­


    Shadow.


    He saw darkness drip from its black fur, as it bled shadow in its wake. Caledon stared, as he caught a glimpse of legs that blurred as it walked along. Each foot was paired with another, as it strode, creating an uncanny image.


    Then he realised that something was wrong¡­ more so than its appearance, or even the shadow that it bled.


    The wolf¡­ was flickering. At odd intervals. As if momentarily fading into and out of reality, before re-entering it.


    With a whinny, his horse beside him bolted. In her terror, she ran directly towards the wolf.


    The wolf turned in their direction.


    Caledon watched as it flickered, and a brief flash of shadow cut through the air, slicing through his approaching steed.


    He saw, no felt endless red eyes lock onto his own. Then, shadows began to envelop him, drowning him in darkness.


    Caledon comprehended the true nature of shadow.


    A lingering image, born from light but with obscurity as its object. Caledon was enveloped in it, leaving him isolated, never to be found by his loved ones. Never to be reunited, as the obscurity that it was cursed with, extended to himself.


    Forgotten. Lost, in the unending darkness of-


    Then the moment broke, as the wolf turned away and continued on its way. Leaving his dead steed in its wake. Blood began to pool from his horse¡¯s corpse, slowly trickling onto the dark, cobbled Archcitiy¡¯s street, lit by the harsh silver light that shone down from the orbs hanging over the city.


    The sensation he had been enveloped in had been terrifying, true to the moniker of the creature. What had surprised him though, was that it was all too familiar.


    I¡­ I recognised that. It¡¯s just like it, just in a different form...


    Caledon shivered, and he realised that tears were running from his eyes.


    It¡¯s like¡­ my Fear


    The ¡°Terror¡± as the crow had warned them, had appraised them, and concluded that they were beneath its notice, before proceeding on its way. It hadn¡¯t even spared them a second glance. Prey, at the very least, would have drawn its attention, warranting more than a wayward glance.


    The Terror had considered them something beneath even that.


    It was right.


    Then, as his breathing began to normalise, and the world began to return to him, Caledon noticed an odd sound.


    The sound of dripping, this time, with increased frequency. He looked downwards, and saw that the condensed water that fell from his garb to the ground hadn¡¯t increased in regularity.


    He turned to look at Lord Semille. The man was shaking in fear, just as his attendants were, even encased in the armour of the Dreadwood as they were.


    Then, his eyes fixed on the culprit of the sound. Liquid dripped from the gaps in the vines and root comprising the lord¡¯s armour, and Caledon was met with an acrid smell.


    Semille¡¯s dignity leaked once more.

 Chapter 17: Brother

    The effects of the drug that had incapacitated the pair of captives had worn off for one of them.


    Vale stared up at a face, much like her own.


    A young man with curly golden hair which framed dark eyes and a sharp nose. He sported lavender irises their mother had been so proud of and the castle¡¯s staff so infatuated with. She had witnessed many a servant entranced by her brother¡¯s good looks, to her mild disgust.


    "Triol."


    "Vale. It¡¯s good to see you. Have you bee-"


    Rather than dignify her older brother¡¯s response with a reply, Vale spat at his feet.


    "I see you¡¯re not in the mood to talk."


    "Still doing father¡¯s bidding I see? Playing the enthusiastic servant boy."


    Triol Revenant did not rise to her provocation.


    "Dawn was devastated when you left."


    Vale winced, as her brother wasted no time before driving a figurative dagger into her chest. She almost would have preferred the actual thing.


    "You¡¯re blind in your arrogance Triol. Thinking that serving him would get you anywhere. How could you be so blind?"


    Triol¡¯s eyes softened. He had missed Vale dearly. After his sister left¡­ he didn¡¯t know if he would ever reunite with her again. What a twisted turn of fate that they would do so in the Archcity of Fear. She must have found one of their father¡¯s records of it.


    No doubt, coming here with the aim of finding or becoming something capable of killing the Deathbringer himself.


    The tragedy of it all was that he understood his sister. Her motivations.


    Most of all, her resentment.


    Yet unlike Vale, he also understood their father.


    Ever since he was young, Triol had learned very quickly that there were many ways to influence others around him.


    His appearance had only been one such tool ¨C a trivial one at that. He noticed the covert glances that servants ¨C the living ones ¨C infatuated with his appearance had directed his way. How he was treated differently because of people¡¯s perceptions of him.


    However, his mild influence over others paled in comparison to the power held by Vetrian Revenant.


    The substance of his Fearshaping.


    He had never glimpsed something so overwhelming. That demanded - no - commanded his respect and fear. For there was no room for choice, when you faced Vetrian Revenant.


    To some extent, that extended even to his deference.


    But he wasn¡¯t an idiot.


    "Vale. It was pure luck that you were able to find this Archcity. What was your plan? To discover a hidden relic capable of putting father in the ground for good? To become a Fearshaper yourself capable of rivalling him?"


    Vale continued to strain against her restraints. She bared her teeth at her brother as she began to take stock of the situation. She struggled to tilt her head to the left, and deciphered a foreboding building across the street.


    Her focus was interrupted by soft footsteps, that appeared to draw nearer. Vale attempted to sneak a glance at the approaching figures, and her stomach dropped as she heard a familiar voice speak in hushed tones.


    She wrinkled her nose as it was met with an acrid scent.


    Is that¡­ piss?


    "There they are! Rogues and thieves, I¡¯ll gut you!"


    It was the man whose throat Shiver had speared with an ice dagger back in Brimstone.


    Evidently, she had done a pretty poor job.


    Feardamnit Shiver.


    Triol extended an arm, whereupon a pale, skeletal raven alighted, perching on his shoulder.


    Caledon¡¯s eyes widened as his suspicions were confirmed.


    House Revenant. A Fearshaper with power over death itself. The very house that his father had burned from existence for their atrocities. They still lived?


    The arrogant Lord Semille did the unthinkable, and bowed deeply before the figure draped in a long black cloak, trimmed in darksilver.


    They stood in the foyer of one of the dark towers that filled the Archcity of Fear. Evidently, the lord from House Revenant thought it was sufficient to evade the notice of the wandering Terrors. He certainly was bold, if nothing else.


    "My lord Revenant. House Flora greets you."


    Caledon gritted his teeth as he stepped forward.


    "I am the leader of this expedition, Caledon Brimstone."


    The figure looked at him impassively. Lord Semille sneered at his statement.


    "I greet you, Lord Brimstone. My name is Triol."


    "You¡¯re of House Revenant."


    Triol inclined his head. The crow perched on his shoulder mimicked the motion, as if to mock Caledon¡¯s ignorance.


    "Your house has committed unspeakable crimes against elvenkind. Vetrian Revenant sent hordes against Archcities, villages and towns alike murdering countless elves. My father burned your house from exi-"


    Caledon flinched as one of the Dreadwood knights rose an immense greatsword towards his throat. He froze, and he found no reassurance when he met Lord Semille¡¯s gaze.


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    The arrogant lordling had bowed to him. Caledon detected a slight tremble in his shoulders.


    He was afraid?


    "You will have to forgive the runt, my lord. He knows nothing of the cooperation between our houses."


    "Cooperation?"


    Caledon froze in confusion. Then, he noticed the bodies lying before him. Two female elves. One bore dark golden locks, similar to Triol¡¯s own and deep lavender eyes. She wore a similar cloak trimmed in darksilver similarly to Triol. The girl watched his movements carefully, but she seemed to be securely restrained.


    Another girl lay next to her, unmoving.


    That must be her¡­ Shiver.


    From behind Triol emerged another elf from the shadow. He was short in stature, with round, copper glasses and a charming moustache. He sported a beige bucket hat and wore the garb of one of the archaeologist¡¯s guild.


    But his face was unmoving, blank, and his eyes stared forward unblinkingly. His gaze seemed to be devoid of life.


    Undead? No¡­ he still looks to be alive.


    It dawned on him that he faced a lord of House Revenant. Fearshapers that Feared death. Through their Fear was their mastery derived. There was a reason their house was so widely feared and hated. They had devolved into nothing but a children¡¯s bedtime nightmare that their parents punished them with when they misbehaved.


    So deadly, they had almost singlehandedly threatened to topple elven civilisation as they knew it, with a single Fearshaper. Vetrian was only halted by the actions of his father. Had Berevan not interceded, who knows whether the Revenant¡¯s massacre would have ended.


    At least, that was supposed to be the case. Both of them speak of cooperation between our houses. Father¡­


    He stiffened as he cursed his inelegant handling of the situation. He narrowly avoided jumping back as Triol sudden thrust his hand within his cloak.


    "Yes, Lord Brimstone. We are allied with your house."


    He withdrew the small item and held it out towards Caledon.


    Bearing a blade to him.


    If he hadn¡¯t known any better, he would have thought that what he had just heard was a product of his own Fear. Hallucinations that deceived him as to the truth of reality when he was most at ease. It had emerged in the form of his father and sister during the briefing. Deceiving him as to their true words and intent.


    Caledon was anything but at peace.


    "This should be proof enough."


    Caledon traced his eyes along the edge of the darksteel dagger in Triol¡¯s hands. The casual ease of its construction, and the threat of death that it contained in its mastery of its construction sang to him.


    Two words were engraved into it.


    His eyes fell on the inscription on the blade, written in soft glowing silver, forming a script that elegantly depicted two words.


    Triol Revenant.


    Caledon¡¯s shoulders slumped. Sakar¡¯s handiwork was unmistakeable. He knew, that the old smith bowed to no one ¨C even at the threat of his own life. Others had tried before.


    "It was a gift from my father for accepting my current station. Brimstone make, you might recognise it."


    Triol casually sheathed it, and turned to glance at the buildings above them. The towers that pierced the abyssal dark, interspersed with otherworldly glowing orbs of silver that burned still in the darkness.


    "In any case, back to the matters at hand. As you can see, I¡¯ve apprehended the culprits you were chasing. I would be happy to hand over the elf you¡¯re chasing."


    Triol gestured towards the blonde elf at his feet.


    "Leave this one. Do what you see fit with the other."


    Caledon watched as Lord Semille¡¯s eyes flashed in satisfaction. His thirst, for blood would be sated.


    The blonde girl that was conscious had tears in her eyes and looked pleadingly towards him.


    Bring them to ¡°justice¡±.


    Caledon concealed a frown as he recalled his father¡¯s words.


    This is no form of justice that I know of.


    For as long as he had known his father, Highlord Berevan Brimstone had exhibited upstanding moral character. He was a lord that provided for every citizen he could afford to. He had taken care to bring Viveria and himself to the lower quarters to show the plight of poorer elves to his children, who had been raised in privilege.


    Where Viveria was often hot-headed, and eager to pass judgment, Caledon differed from his sister. The plight of the elves had brought tears to his sister¡¯s eyes, which had dissipated quickly as it arrived when she had attended her next swordsmanship lesson.


    His father, in all of his great wisdom ¨C compared her to a fleeting, bright flame that burned with passion. Caledon, he described as a steady hearth, which endured onwards interminably.


    Between the two, his father had always cautioned to fear the latter. He his words came to him once again.


    "Never change, Caledon. Continue questioning. Question even those you trust the most. If they do not hold up to your scrutiny, then deliver your own sense of justice. That is your responsibility as a lord."


    His father had boomed with his characteristic laugh. But for the first time in his life, Caledon had detected an undertone of desperation.


    "Perhaps, one day, I will be on the receiving end of your judgment. I cannot give you satisfactory answers to your questions ¨C yet. But I will say this. Trust yourself Cal. You are a far better man than I."


    Caledon felt a warmth blossom from within him. A familiar warmth. Comfort at the thought of his father. Ironically, the very object of his Fear. It was not enough to halt his gratitude.


    As he gazed at the elves at his feet, bound and gagged, before a Fearshaper who heralded from a family that had committed unspeakable crimes against elven society, Caledon did as his father advised him.


    He questioned.


    What had the orphan stolen that had Flora in such a frenzy?


    Why was there a Fearshaper hailing from House Revenant that appeared to treat him with respect, calling him an ally?


    What was he to do about this all?


    Caledon¡¯s eyes flickered to movement behind the blonde girl. He remained silent, ensuring that his eyes betrayed nothing. Then, his attention was drawn to a structure that stood opposite them.


    It faded into the background of the grand Archcity ¨C as if evading the silver light filtered down into the fog beneath it.


    A temple.


    With pillars of dark stone, bordering its entrance. Two large stone doors with intricate carvings running down their surface. The doors were sealed shut.


    Until recently.


    A sliver of golden light seemed to emerge from the slightest of gaps. On the floor before the doors lay an¡­ ice cube?


    Caledon¡¯s eyes flicked to the other girl that lay still, seemingly unconscious.


    Bound no more.


    Shiver burst into movement, slicing through the restraints of the other elf with a dagger of ice. A shout erupted from Lord Semille that ended the silence that hung over the city.


    Triol cursed, at the noise that escaped Semille¡¯s mouth, his vision shooting not towards the escaping elf, but towards the city streets around him.


    Even he¡¯s afraid of the Terrors.


    Their bindings had been severed, and the two sprinted towards the temple opposite them.


    The Knights of the Dreadwood erupted into action, extending their hands outwards and sending vines shooting towards the pair. Lord Semille invoked his Fear once more.


    [Vines of the flickerroot]


    Caledon threw his body in the path of the oncoming vines, deflecting them from their path. The shield of his own creation dented and his breath was knocked from his body.


    Abandoning his shield, he sprinted after the pair, as they ran into the temple, its doors now glowing with a strange energy.


    The intricate carvings that covered its surface appeared to be squirming. The carvings were embodied by tendrils of dark which had suddenly come alive. The very sight of it chilled Caledon but he paid it no heed as he barely managed to slip into the rapidly closing gap before the stone doors slammed shut. He pressed his back against the door, chest rising and falling rapidly at the sudden exertion.


    Which brought him right into the path of a Cerulean gaze.


    Eyes devoid of any warmth.


    But such a description was inadequate.


    Had a certain orphan girl with pigtails been present and alive, she would have given him the perfect, arrogant description for what he saw.


    Eyes, the colour of snow in a thunderstorm.


    Which carried a blizzard¡¯s wrath within.

 Chapter 18: Matchmaker

    Shiver stared into soft, brown eyes.


    The son of her greatest enemy.


    Caledon Brimstone. Son of Highlord Berevan Brimstone, the man who had incinerated Blaze, Pov and Marta.


    Viveria and Caledon were popular amongst Brimstone¡¯s citizens. The Highlord¡¯s progeny and the future of Brimstone, the flame to cast away the darkness of mediocrity, as Brimstone strove for innovation.


    Shiver had spat when she first heard the metaphor. Nevermind that he looked her very own age, the boy before her did not inspire much confidence.


    Her mind rested only on a single thought.


    How would the mighty Highlord like it if I take his son away from him.


    Even if she did, there would still be due. Blaze, Pov and Marta¡¯s lives did not amount to the life of a single lordling.


    Yet, the very same lordling had aided them in their escape.


    "Shiver, please. You saw what he did. We could use all the help we can get!¡¯


    "She¡¯s right Shiver!"


    The elf slowly lowered her daggers of ice. The boy was stocky, having inherited his father¡¯s physique. At his full height, he was at least a head or two taller than Vale and Shiver.


    Conveniently, he was sat pressed up against the pair of twin stone doors, giving Shiver¡¯s daggers easy access to his jugular. Just as easily as they had materialised, Shiver¡¯s ice daggers dissipated as she dismissed them. The boy didn''t appear to be hostile - that could change quickly.


    She turned, and swiftly took in their surroundings before her gaze returned to Caledon.


    "Where are we Icey?"


    The ice cube¡¯s voice took on a questioning tone.


    "Shouldn¡¯t you be familiar with it Shiver? This is where elves go to awaken as Fearshapers!"


    "I didn¡¯t awaken in a temple."


    Silence hung in the air around them. Then Caledon frowned.


    Wait a minute¡­ why aren¡¯t we hearing the sounds of the commotion outside? Perhaps they¡¯re trying to evade the attention of the Terrors?


    Caledon strained, and couldn¡¯t hear a sound.


    No¡­ whatever this place is, it¡¯s sealed us off from the outside.


    "You must have forgotten silly! And don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll be safe in here, they won¡¯t be able to just barge into a temple while the awakening ritual is in progress."


    The group froze, and looked to the little ice cube in concert.


    "Awakening ritual?"


    Right on cue, tendrils of darkness that had coated the exterior of the temple doors surfaced from the ground beneath them. Caledon took in the room around him for the first time.


    Its interior seemed to defy physics.


    Where the temple had looked like a squat building, shorter by far than the towers that filled the Archcity of Fear, its interior was immense.


    A mural was revealed by the soft, golden torchlight that flickered within the temple. Caledon struggled to decipher the cryptic scene.


    The flaring torchlight revealed what had previously been concealed, and it came into focus. It depicted a figure resembling an arachnid, towering over elves, extending its appendages generously to the elves beneath it. They bowed towards it in supplication.


    In the background, towered an indecipherable monster of immense scale, dwarfing all beneath it.


    And above it all, were two circles in the sky. One of gold and one of silver.


    Valefor and Idriel ¨C Elucidor¡¯s twin moons?


    Then, he dropped to the floor. Vale joined him, and the pair lay still.


    Shiver¡¯s eyes widened.


    "Icey! What¡¯s happening?"


    "They¡¯re awakening! They¡¯re becoming Fearshapers!"


    Shiver¡¯s gaze sharpened, as she watched the room darken around her. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the mural around her. Possessing a smile of fangs, split from ear to ear, bearing her own visage.


    When she blinked, it disappeared.


    "Icey, if you don¡¯t explain yourself right now, I swear-"


    "Shiver."


    Icey¡¯s voice was solemn, a jarring departure from her usual, cheery and childlike self. Shiver hesitated, her eyes lingering on the ice cube beneath her.


    "Allow them to claim their birthright. As you did before them."


    ---


    Vale¡¯s eyes snapped open as she stared at an unfamiliar roof.


    "A clothen roof. Design unique to the Jade isles and those curious elves. My word, I never thought Tutor Visca¡¯s lessons would actually come in handy."


    She rose slowly, and noticed that she was in a room, enclosed on all sides with doors of fabric. Her toes curled against a wooden floor as she peered at what looked like a receptionist¡¯s desk before her.


    Something rose from behind the desk.


    Suspended on eight legs, bearing a weight that they had no business holding aloof, stood an immense spider. Of no breed or species that was known to Vale. Had she known it, she would have promptly advocated for its eradication. As it was, she was powerless to bring her will into reality.


    So she screamed, running towards the back of the room, pressing her shoulders against the wall.


    "Get away from me, you foul creature! I¡¯ll kill you!"


    "My, my. How violent your words are, young Vale Revenant."


    Vale¡¯s eyes widened, as the spider spoke to her, in a teasing tone, often adopted by the friendlier of her tutors. She watched in horror as it casually stepped over its desk and approached her, casting a vast shadow on the ground beneath it.


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    "Perhaps it is unsurprising, given your membership to the house of death, that you would wish it upon my species."


    Vale twitched at a sudden chittering noise, stiffening as she realised that the spider appeared to be laughing.


    The spider crept closer to her, lowering its multitude of eyes to come level with Vale¡¯s own. Had Vale not been so preoccupied with her immediate terror, she would have admired the cut of its smart tuxedo.


    "But fear not-"


    The spider winked at her behind its multitude of monocles.


    "-I¡¯m friendly."


    Vale promptly fainted, the sound of chittering echoing in her ears as her consciousness faded away.


    ---


    "If I may ask, Sir¡­?"


    "Matchmaker, young Brimstone. Charmed."


    Caledon stared at the exceedingly well-dressed and distinguished spider. The image of Silas, his butler was brought to mind, though he doubted his friend would have appreciated the comparison.


    Caledon gulped.


    He had never been so grateful for the etiquette training his mother had hammered into him. It was the only thing keeping him going in the face of the immense, articulate arachnid.


    "You say, you are here to find me a¡­ match?"


    "Indeed I am! I see here¡­ you have a unique Fear. One that bears multiple layers to it."


    The spider appeared to sadden visibly, hunching on its spindly legs.


    "Oh dear, how unfortunate. How paradoxical."


    It shook its immense head, its monocles flashing in the gentle light of the room.


    "How fascinating. It presents you with a considerable opportunity, young lord!"


    "What Fear¡­ do I possess, Sir Matchmaker?"


    The spider chittered, giving him a short, elegant bow.


    "Now, now, Lord Caledon. That will be for you to uncover during the course of your descent."


    Caledon gaped wordlessly as the spider swept him up in its arms. The Matchmaker carried him along, pushing open a door to exit the ¡°reception¡± area he had awoken in. It proceeded down a long wooden corridor.


    Filled with rooms.


    ---


    Vale awakened, to find the Matchmaker towering over her. It carried her as it navigated swiftly through the hallway, a multitude of different rooms flashing before her vision, the spider moving too fast for her to make out their interiors.


    "Ah! Young Revenant, welcome back! I trust the journey has not been too uncomfortable?"


    She was sorely tempted to faint again.


    The Matchmaker slowed, entering a dark room. Motes of dust flicked in and out of focus as they caught the light.


    The room before her resembled a crypt.


    It was lined with several gigantic, regal stone tombs that lay vertically on the ground at even intervals. Whoever lay in them, was sure to have attained the respect of the people that honoured them, to create such a grand resting place for them.


    It put Soulhaven¡¯s own crypts to shame in their craftsmanship. The Feardamned Archcity of Death.


    Where was she?


    The spider laid her down gently on the floor. Then, stepping back, it gestured towards the implements before her.


    She frowned as she turned her gaze towards implements that reminded her of the relics they had stumbled upon in the guildmistress¡¯ vault.


    The first, on her very left, was a simple ritual dagger. A plan, curved blade with the hint of a bloodstain on its edge. The weapon of a murderer, eager to inflict death.


    The second, was a mirror, its surface enshrouded with black fog. Vale frowned as she stared into it, but no amount of focus allowed her to pierce its depths.


    The third beside it, was a shortsword.


    Vale heaved, at the sight of the shortsword, struggling to keep down her rising nausea. It reminded her of his Phobia.


    The fourth, was a small lantern, with a flickering pale flame.


    The final implement ¨C no Phobia was a small scepter.


    Every Phobia was wrought from ivory, emblematic of her Fear of death. How appropriate.


    "You have the choice of a guide, before you. From left to right, the burden that they imposed will be as such:


    [Minimal]


    [Moderate]


    [Severe]


    [Legendary]


    [Mythic]


    Your decision will inform the difficulty of your descent. A guide of greater power, will bring greater threats. Though-"


    The spider chittered softly with laughter. At first, she thought the spider was mocking her. But as she met his gaze, it bowed slightly.


    "Your resolve is strong. That is unlikely to deter you, is it?"


    Vale wordlessly walked to the Phobia placed on her extreme right.


    "I must warn you¡­ you who despise death will come to be defined by it. Are you sure-"


    She silently picked up the ivory scepter, the [Mythic] guide. The Matchmaker inclined its body towards her, as if in respect.


    "I believe he will be an excellent guide to you. He resonates with your determination and bravery. Of all the guides you could have chosen¡­"


    The spider¡¯s voice lowered, adopting a tenderness and care that surprised her, as his soft voice washed over her.


    "Few comprehend the very depths of death itself, but he was one of them. A beautiful choice."


    The Matchmaker paused as it glanced towards the regal crypt around them, turning back to Vale with a smile.


    She would have found it terrifying, but the Matchmaker¡¯s sincerity was clear.


    ---


    "Your Fear is unique, young Caledon."


    "As you¡¯ve mentioned, Sir¡­ Matchmaker."


    The Matchmaker stood in a curious room.


    A throneroom.


    In one corner, a hearth burned with a comforting flame. Standing before him, were countless layers of steps leading up to a golden throne. An immense window rose above it, and as the light filtered down, he blinked as it cut into his vision. Motes of dust floated before him, illuminated by the rays.


    "It is difficult to allocate you an appropriate Guide. I believe¡­ Yes."


    The spider nodded solemnly, looking to Caledon with concern.


    "I¡¯m afraid the nature of your Fear limits your options for a guide. A rare circumstance. But given the breath of Fears that elves are tormented by, a foreseeable problem. Thankfully, there is a guide suited to you."


    He gestured to a single, simple torch, that lay at the foot of the steps.


    "Do not be deceived, by its simple appearance. For he is a [Mythic] guide. He may be unkind at times, but do not be fall to the deception, as your Fear often seeks to inflict. I only regret not being able to offer you a guide of a lesser burden, were that your wish."


    The matchmaker¡¯s voice reached him once again. Kind and tender in his tone.


    "He is the best guide for you, Lord Brimstone. As I always seek to deliver-"


    Its head fell, as it appeared to defer to Caledon with a strange reverence and respect.


    "Elves deserve no less."


    The matchmaker¡¯s eyes gleamed in the gold of the room around him.


    "I¡¯m afraid my selection will challenge you. Perhaps you will resent me, for my choice. But¡­ I believe that he is the one you need."


    The Matchmaker gave him a terrifying, but kind smile.


    "And most certainly, the same can be said of you, for him."


    Caledon stood motionless in the room around him.


    He couldn¡¯t help but feel...


    Like he was sullying it with his very presence.


    ---


    "Now I ask-"


    The Matchmaker¡¯s words rang in their ears. Echoing through the haunting crypt and resplendent room alike.


    "Do you vow to face your Fear?"


    Vale steeled herself, sensing the gravity of his words. She reached up instinctively to cling to a necklace that lay, cold against her throat. For all of Shiver¡¯s perceptiveness, her eyes had never been drawn to it. It was a silly, ugly, primitive thing to anyone¡¯s eyes. No masterpiece of Brimstone smiths ¨C the very opposite. The makings of a child. Crude in its form, but pure in its intent.


    Her nails threatened to part the skin of her palm as she gave her response.


    ---


    The question echoed in Caledon¡¯s ears, ringing with a gravity that he could not deny.


    He struggled to keep the tears from his eyes, eventually succumbing to them.


    ---


    Both young elves answered in kind.


    Though their answers differed in form ¨C one resolute, and one resigned ¨C they carried the same unyielding, unwavering conviction.


    "I do."


    The Matchmaker broke into a warm smile ¨C one that he had afforded to all elves that came before him ¨C they were all equally as deserving of it, no matter the circumstance.


    "Then I wish you the best of luck. Embrace your Fear, young elf."

 Chapter 19: First Realm of Fear

    Shiver watched as Caledon and Vale rose with a groan. Her eyes widened as she saw two items coalesce into reality in their hands.


    So the ice cube was right. She really wasn''t lying.


    Vale clutched a pale scepter forged from ivory. It was comprised of two curved pieces of bone which supported a receptacle containing sickly, green energy.


    As for Caledon, a torch of the darkest wood materialised beside him, emitting a soft flame that filled Shiver with comfort at the sight of it.


    The pair groggily shook their heads, as the black tendrils surrounding them receded back into the walls and floor. Silence returned to the temple.


    Caledon rose, offering a hand to Vale which she promptly accepted. Shiver frowned at the gesture. Vale cleared her throat, as she stood to her feet.


    "Goodness. What a terrifying spider. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it."


    Vale examined her newfound sceptre with a mixture of incredulity and disgust.


    "I thought he was dignified. He was quite the gentleman. Did you see his monocles?"


    Vale exchanged a glance with Caledon, gaping at him, appalled at his opinion.


    "Are you two done flirting?"


    The pair started at Shiver¡¯s bitter tone, glancing back at her.


    "Now where was I?"


    Shiver materialised a dagger and held the tip of it to Caledon¡¯s chest.


    He gulped, and felt a bead of sweat trace down his temple.


    "Here to bring dearest daddy the heads of an orphan girl and runaway lady?"


    "Shiver! He helped us. I¡¯m sorry Lord Cale-"


    "His father killed Blaze, Pov and Marta."


    Her words were like acid, and Caledon flinched as she cut into him with them.


    "Their only sin was harbouring an orphan girl who stole for a living. None of them deserved the death they received."


    Shiver¡¯s neck-length, wavy silver hair was matted and tangled. Her eyes contained a wild hatred that could not be subdued with empty words of comfort.


    Caledon''s mind whirled, as he struggled to find his proverbial footing.


    "My father¡­ He told me to bring you to justice."


    Caledon winced internally, at the words that escaped his mouth.


    Nice going Caledon. Dying as soon as you awaken as a Fearshaper.


    Shiver broke into a savage smile, but before she could continue, Caledon broke in.


    "So I wanted to hear your side of the story for myself. What possessed you to steal from a Lord of House Flora in the first place?"


    Shiver barked out a terse laugh.


    "You¡¯re asking me about a theft? Have you ever even graced the lower quarters with your presence, oh mighty Lord Brimstone?"


    Shiver swung her arms downwards, sending her dagger hurtling towards Caledon.


    "Shiver! No!"


    Caledon gritted his teeth together and shut his eyes, moving not a muscle.


    "I-is this really the time to do this?"


    "Talk."


    Caledon opened his eyes, to find the dagger¡¯s point hovering right above his eye. Much like how she had killed the thug, Dag. Her face was expressionless and cold, just as much as the biting frost that touched his face, emitted from her blade.


    "You¡­ Your friend, Blaze. She stole cargo that House Flora was transporting to my father. But¡­ something isn¡¯t right. What you said about my father killing innocents ¨C I have never known him to commit such atrocities, it isn¡¯t in his nature. There¡¯s more to this than we know."


    Caledon paused, nervously gripping his newfound torch. Its light comforted him, which ironically, set him on edge.


    He was anything but at ease, but if his Fear played up, there was no way he could tell truth from deception. It could conjure words from Shiver¡¯s mouth, prompting a response that could end with a blade of ice through his throat. It was always strange to be grateful for panic burning through his veins.


    Unexpectedly, Vale piped up with a question.


    "And you helped us, why? To satisfy your curiosity?"


    "To seek justice, through the truth."


    Shiver laughed bitterly at the lord¡¯s response.


    "Princess, it looks like we have an idealist on our hands. Tell me, oh lordling, will our truth ever be able to satisfy you? What is to stop you from disbelieving every word from my mouth, then ending my existence in a swift moment?¡¯ There¡¯s nothing to stop you, oh big and scary Brimstone. Cornering two helpless ladies, like you have?"


    Him? Cornering them?


    Caledon stared at Shiver wordlessly, the chill of the temple door against his back at the forefront of his mind.


    "I have a suggestion boy! Perhaps you should follow the lasses to judge their character more thoroughly!"


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    "Well said!"


    The trio froze at the unfamiliar voice. It was regal, and carried a confidence far surpassing anything Vale had ever heard. Impressive, given the time she had spent with Shiver.


    A wishbone materialised on Vale¡¯s shoulder, hopping in place. Shiver scowled.


    "Not another one."


    "Shiver! Hey!"


    "If we keep with the theme, your name must be Boney?"


    "I like your spirit girl. But call me that again, and I''ll put you in a grave. Behold, the majesty of Lord Quietus Vingrave!"


    The little wishbone turned to face its charge whose face carried an expression torn between horror and despair. Vale had gone stiff at the appearance of her guide, her shoulders taut. Her eyes held a fear which Shiver could sympathise with.


    No one really explained what it was like to be irrevocably bound to a being that embodied your Fear.


    "Ahem, of course. You may address me as Lord Quietus."


    Vale¡¯s expression clearly showed that the girl shared her feelings.


    "To have heralded the Fear to summon me girl¡­ Yours must run deep. And its object is death, is it not? It must be."


    Under the scrutiny of her newfound partner, Vale managed a terse nod. Strangely, the wishbone¡¯s voice did not ridicule her, it carried an odd respect ¨C Shiver would not go so far as to have characterised it as warmth.


    "Then there could have been no better guide! For I am death¡¯s master."


    Shiver exchanged a glanced with Caledon, whose eyebrow appeared to twitch at the unbelievable arrogance of a wishbone of all things. It was something they could agree on, against the odds. She scanned the area surrounding the lordling, and her eyes caught on something floating behind him.


    It was something small, circular in nature which seemed to tenuously fade into and out of existence. Unlike the other guides ¨C Icey and Quietus ¨C it stayed silent after materialising.


    "And do you have a name as well?"


    Tracking Shiver¡¯s gaze, Caledon¡¯s head whipped into the spot where Shiver had seen the entity. But there was nothing in sight.


    "You must be confused girl, understandably dazzled by my brilliance. Of course, you are to be forgiven, I myself struggle to envision the grace with which I would carry myself in my own esteemed presence."


    Shiver merely stuck her tongue out at the wishbone, not bothering to untangle his sheer arrogance.


    Neither did she clarify what she had seen with Caledon. That much, was to be expected. He couldn¡¯t expect to receive any assistance from the frosty girl.


    "You¡¯ll have to forgive Shiver, Lord Quietus! My name is Icey, I¡¯m the guide assigned to her."


    Icey beamed at the wishbone, her surface glistening with excitement. The two began an exchange as they introduced themselves. The wishbone¡¯s arrogance seemed to calm Vale. She let out a deep breath that she hadn¡¯t realised she was holding.


    Then her eyes lit up.


    "You know what this means, Shiver¡­ The entry page that I found, it was right! This place, it awakens elves into Fearshapers!"


    Shiver raised an eyebrow, as she crossed her arms and leaned against the temple wall. All the while keeping Caledon well within her sight.


    "Well¡­ while it was kept a secret¡­ the patriarchs and matriarchs of noble houses must have already known how we awaken as Fearshapers. It must be through these temples. You of course, are an exception-"


    Caledon gaped, one of the mysteries he was grappling with having surfaced.


    "An exception? That is fascinating. I must ask, how did that come to pass?"


    Caledon immediately blushed at his outburst. Vale coloured as well, having let the information slip.


    Shiver just sighed, ignoring Caledon¡¯s question.


    "And the nobility have been keeping these temples a secret."


    Vale nodded reluctantly.


    "The siblings of mine that awakened didn¡¯t say a word about these temples¡­ Although, I doubt they would have volunteered the information. I think they would have rather seen me dead. Still¡­ We can¡¯t say for sure that elves of noble blood are capable of awakening. We don¡¯t know who your parents-"


    "I told you, Fearshaping is the right of all elves."


    The little ice cube¡¯s words cut through their conversation. Solemn in their delivery, as it had been the very first time she spoke them.


    "The little cube speaks the truth! Fearshaping is the right of all elves."


    Caledon frowned, deep in thought.


    "If what your guides say is to be believed¡­ then the nobility are obscuring the truth. Most likely to retain their exclusive chokehold over incredible power."


    Caledon paled as he saw Shiver¡¯s lips morph into a viscious smile.


    "Couldn¡¯t have said it better myself, lordling. Though I would add one, small detail. Not only are they denying the masses power, they deny them an end to their Fears."


    Shiver¡¯s eyes gleamed in the flickering of the temple light.


    "Serenity. What Pevir mentioned, what this Archcity ushered its elves towards. Like you said, princess - the descent allows Fearshapers to be freed from their Fears. That is what the nobility have stolen."


    An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Caledon and Vale exchanged a glance.


    Before Shiver let out a loud yawn.


    "If only I could bring myself to care. We have loftier goals, don¡¯t we my lady? Now, dear guides. I believe what you¡¯re meant to guide is our descent. How exactly do we descend?"


    Shiver turned her gaze to Icey and Lord Quietus.


    "Why, I would be delighted to share-"


    "New Fearshapers begin in Anhedonia! The very first stage of Fear."


    "I say, colleague-"


    Icey zipped about excitedly, weaving circles between them.


    "You have two goals in this stage. The first is to acknowledge your Fear and the second is to embrace it. Simple!"


    Shiver arched an eyebrow at the ice cube¡¯s cryptic response.


    "I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m going to need some detail."


    Icey came to an abrupt halt. Another stream of information poured forth from her guide.


    "Sure! To acknowledge your Fear, you revisit its inception in your nightmares. When you fully comprehend the shape of it ¨C acknowledgement occurs. Opening your eyes to your Fear, bringing it into your awareness. That¡¯s the very first step-"


    "Which requires us to¡­ sleep? We achieve this in our nightmares?"


    "Yes!"


    Shiver thought back to the dream she had been visited with before she found herself awakening on Marrow, riding down the mountain pass. Her thoughts hovered over the sight of the two elves that had been present, along with the ice shades.


    Vale broke the silence that ensued.


    "Shiver¡­ perhaps there would be a better place to descend¡­ Look."


    She gestured to the walls of the temple. The black tendrils that had emerged during their awakening had begun to recede. Including, over the twin doors that had sealed them in.


    "I bet Lord Semille and my brother will be after us as soon as they can enter."


    Shiver and Caledon stared at her. He had suspected it from the very first sight of her, but this confirmed it. Shiver was the one who put words to his thoughts.


    "Your brother?"


    The wishbone hopped happily on Vale¡¯s shoulders just as the shoulders it stood on shrunk in dejection.


    "Oh my, I love a good family drama."

 Chapter 20: Deathbringer

    "Yes, Triol is my brother."


    Vale shifted uncomfortably, avoiding both of their gazes. Shiver and Caledon glared at the girl as she idly fiddled with her Phobia, her disgust of it forgotten.


    "So, he was one of the ¡°servants¡± sent to do your father¡¯s bidding."


    Caledon watched on, fascinated by the exchange. For one, this was further confirmation that House Revenant was still standing. It meant that House Brimstone had not eradicated the Deathbringer and his house as they had claimed.


    The next point of fascination was the fact that Vale was a lady from said house. He supposed he should have put the connection together, when he saw them share the same lavender eyes and cloak, trimmed in darksilver.


    "Yes. He serves my father. I¡¯m certain that my father has ordered him to capture me. Treat him like an enemy."


    "You don¡¯t have to tell me twice, my lady."


    Vale winced at Shiver¡¯s sardonic response.


    "So. Where is a girl to find a place to have a good night¡¯s sleep in this Feardamned city?"


    Shiver¡¯s eyes carried a deadly glint, as they met Vale¡¯s own.


    "We can¡¯t be forgetting why we came here. We need to descend."


    Vale walked further into the temple, examining its interior. The awakening chamber was right beside the temple entrance, with the mural bordering the area. Further in, was a corridor leading to a strange fountain.


    She came to a halt before an intricate statute.


    It depicted a woman, with minuscule floating shards that coalesced from her back to form a pair of wings brought in front of her face, to conceal it. They defied gravity as they hung suspended behind her, glinting as they caught the light of the temple. It looked suspiciously like the woman in her dream.


    Shiver strode up to it, and peaked behind the wings.


    Nope, not her.


    Then she looked down at the foot of the statute, watching as the black substance that emerged during the awakening period receded into a deep pool at the foot of the statue.


    Then, they heard a click.


    The wall adjacent to the statue rumbled as it began to rise, revealing a very convenient hidden passage leading from the temple. Vale exclaimed in excitement.


    "Exactly what I thought! Newly awakened Fearshapers are unstable and the temple¡¯s creators must have had some means of ushering the awakened somewhere safe, and away from the city¡¯s populus¡­ Not to mention¡­ the academy that Pevir mentioned. This tunnel must lead in its direction!"


    "No, wait! I have a plan!"


    Shiver¡¯s eyes, as well as the eyes of her companions, fell to the ice cube and wishbone at their feet. They were engrossed in private, conspiratorial discussion.


    ---


    Triol Revenant waited outside of the temple¡¯s secret exit, from which he expected his sister and her companions to emerge.


    The exit tunnel led to a cliff face, which provided an excellent view of the fabled Academy of Anhedonia.


    The same academy supposedly responsible for a renaissance in Fearshaping, heralding generations of Fearshapers who reached the very depths of their Fear, finding peace.


    Serenity.


    Where then, were those Fearshapers?


    Scarce few remained, concentrated only in the four noble houses ¨C Brimstone, Flora, Dreamer and Revenant.


    Triol had his doubts about the veracity of those claims ¨C no doubt some were hyperbolic.


    Yet, the academy¡¯s image alone would have led him to question those doubts.


    The academy looked more like a palace than a school for Fearshapers, sporting wide, circular courtyards that extended outwards from a main structure.


    The academy proper was a pale white, with an enormous dome roof. Multiple silver ¡°suns¡± hung overhead, illuminating the academy and its courtyards. It was perpetually surrounded by a calm, cold wind which seemed to originate from within. When Triol had first glimpsed it, the sight had struck him speechless. From the outside, it looked like it was frozen in time.


    He recalled the moment his father had granted him three gifts in exchange for assuming his post in the Archcity of Fear.


    The first gift, and the least of them, had been the dagger forged in Brimstone. It was beautiful in its artistry, but ultimately trivial.


    The second, and what he had longed for the most, was the gift of Fearshaping. Awakening in the very same temple that his sister had entered. It was how he knew of the secret tunnel. His father had permitted his access to the academy, which had catered to his every need in his descent through Anhedonia.


    Beyond Anhedonia¡­


    He turned to Pevir Veringold, the stout archaeologist from Brimstone, who stood beside him.


    Within him, resided the third and last of his father¡¯s gifts.


    Brought to him after his awakening as a Fearshaper of death, with a mastery over beasts.


    Pevir¡¯s eyes were bereft of light, but he was far from dead. He watched as the elf jogged back towards the mansion that he had been investigating. As usual, he would attempt to take a route that avoided the notice of the Terrors that roamed the city.


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    Nightvipers were exceedingly convenient creatures.


    They possessed a toxin which induced memory loss and could temporarily take control of their hosts for short periods of time.


    Their host would regain lucidity in between their busts of unconsciousness, none the wiser to the parasite which resided within them, sometimes questioning how they had found themselves in a place they had no recollection of heading towards.


    The undead nightviper which resided within Pevir had conveniently allowed Triol to outsource the investigation of the Archcity to the bubbly archaeologist.


    Triol would appear before Pevir, playing the role of a fellow explorer, displaying great interest in Pevir¡¯s recent discoveries.


    Without fail, Pevir would excitedly share any new information he had unearthed before falling into a trance, triggered by a command to the nightviper. His prior memories wiped again.


    Then, Triol would direct him to investigate a different area of the Archcity to continue the investigation. He would reunite with him, and the cycle would continue.


    While Pevir believed that he had been in the city only for short three days, it had been weeks since he had departed from Brimstone¡¯s archaeologist¡¯s guild.


    His gambit with the nightviper was only made possible due to the man¡¯s generosity with the information that he encountered. Triol had taken quite the liking to him, and would see to it that he returned to Brimstone safely, once his father relieved him of his duties in Anhedonia.


    It was a shame, that he had had to exert his control over him so soon, in this instance. Wiping the man¡¯s immediate memories of the information he had gleaned in the mansion. That was why Triol was sending him back to his old post.


    It couldn¡¯t be helped.


    Stumbling upon his sister was a greater boon to him than any information the archaeologist could have found.


    Had Triol a spare nightviper on hand, Vale would not have escaped him as easily as she had. Unfortunately, the creatures were exceedingly rare. Though it was no surprise that his father had gotten his hands on one of them.


    At any moment now, Lord Semille and his knights would be breaching the temple entrance. He would flush them out, right into Triol¡¯s clutches. He looked at the two undead hounds beside him, crouched and ready to do his bidding.


    Then, his concentration was broken by a familiar sight.


    A single, small crow of ivory sailed through the air.


    Triol knelt before his crow, as it came to land at his feet.


    Triol froze helplessly as his heartbeat slowed to a crawl. His limbs began to grow cold and numb, the warmth and feeling gradually ebbing away.


    It felt like his lifeblood was struggling to circulate, to provide him with succour.


    This was to be expected. He was, after all, in the presence of the Deathbringer himself.


    Vetrian Revenant. His father.


    "Highlord."


    The crow opened its beak and emitted a low, calm tone.


    "Triol. I see you¡¯ve found your sister. You must be congratulated."


    "We have her cornered in the temple. She was accompanied by a lord from House Brimstone and another girl. Curiously, this girl seemed capable of Fearshaping even prior to her entry to the Archcity. Newly awakened, in Anhedonia, she did not call forth her Fear."


    "A lord from House Brimstone you say? How curious. First, tell me about this other girl. What was the nature of her Fearshaping?"


    "She seemed to wield daggers of frost, Highlord."


    "Fascinating. Where did this girl come from?"


    "From Brimstone, the Archcity of Flames. I believed she travelled here together with Vale."


    He heard his father break out into soft laughter.


    "A Fearshaper of ice, awakening without the aid of a temple. Accompanied by a lord from House Brimstone, no less. This works greatly in my favour¡­ Triol. Keep me informed as to the nature of this Brimstone lord''s development. This is your new assignment. It is crucial that you do so."


    Triol¡¯s eyebrows creased in a slight frown.


    His sister was right here and his father wasn¡¯t interested in her?


    "What is to be done with Vale?"


    Triol posed the question as casually as he could.


    His face did not betray even a hint of emotion.


    The crow abandoned its ascent. Sweat surfaced on Triol¡¯s forehead as its beak drew closer to his face.


    "Do not impede her. Allow her to descend, as she wishes. In fact¡­ pursue them, aid them in their descent."


    The crow twisted its head towards him.


    "Though I have no doubt that that was your intention all along. You share an admirable goal, do you not? Shared goals are always best achieved in unison, son."


    Pinpricks of void occupying the crow¡¯s eye sockets drilled into Triol¡¯s own. Nothing escaped his father. His motives unravelled before him.


    Then the crow fell from his shoulder, clattering to the floor.


    Triol gasped at the sudden absence of his father¡¯s presence. The edges of his vision turned red at the backlash, the blood stilled in his veins by his father¡¯s presence resuming its path once more.


    Free at last, from his aura of death.


    Triol fell to the floor, gasping, clutching at his chest.


    Back under his control, the crow had resumed its artificial movements, losing all of the grace that it once held in life, with his father¡¯s departure.


    A mocking reminder of his own inadequacy.


    Perhaps it wasn¡¯t a surprise that their father knew. As much as his sister hated to admit it, they shared the very same goal. They had simply chosen different paths to achieve it.


    Nurture me, until I become the death of you. I will never forget.


    Triol would bide his time. Delve into the depths of his Fear under the guidance of the man that he despised the most.


    For one day, he would be the dagger to still Vetrian Revenant¡¯s cold, unbeating heart.


    ---


    Lord Semille paced outside the temple doors. It wouldn¡¯t be long before the black liquid sealing the temple completely receded, leaving it accessible once more.


    Triol had informed him of the secret entrance within the temple, and his plan to ambush them at the other end of the passageway. All that was left was for Semille to flush them out.


    Semille grinned at the thought of ending that Feardamned orphan that had ruined his simple assignment.


    "Deliver the package to Berevan Brimstone. Do not open it. Unless you want me to poison you. Do not delay. You can do as you please after the drop-off. I¡¯ll give you that wooden shirt you¡¯re so excited about. Idiot son."


    That senile old woman¡¯s instructions had been quite clear.


    A simple delivery assignment, and he would be granted his own set of the legendary armour of the Dreadwood. For now, the armour he wore was borrowed, as it continued to heal his wounds.


    One did not simply refuse Highlady Solastra Flora, the Kindly Gardener that tended to the Dreadwood, the Archcity of Life.


    Somehow, the simple assignment had turned into a wild emberhare chase that led him to another lost Archcity and an encounter with ghosts - House Revenant.


    "My lord, it appears the temple has been unsealed."


    "Yes, yes. Sweep it like Lord Triol instructed. Guard the passage entrance, we¡¯ll catch them in a vice as they attempt to flee."


    His knights rushed in, and Semille glanced at the streets obscured by fog that bordered the temple. He would not be caught unawares again. For all that the armour protected him from injury¡­ it did not protect his dignity.


    The smell of piss still lingered.


    His knights returned, sooner than he had expected.


    "Lord Semille. The temple is empty."


    As their lord erupted into hysterics at their incompetence, heedless of the threat of drawing Terrors, a small wishbone perched upon an ice cube raced out from the indentations in the awakening chamber.


    Taking advantage of their preoccupation, Icey and Lord Quietus shot through the fog, headed straight towards the mansion from which they had entered.


    Disappearing in the long shadows cast by the Archcity of Fear, carrying with them, all hopes of escape.

 Chapter 21: Trust

    "We have a curious group on our hands, wouldn¡¯t you say, little ice cube?"


    "Yes, Lord Quietus! They¡¯re lovely! Although¡­ Shiver has a frosty exterior. She hasn¡¯t warmed up to me."


    A wishbone riding on an ice cube shot down the cobbled streets of a lost Archcity. It almost sounded like the setup to a joke. The wishbone let out a deep chuckle.


    "Oh, my dear ice cube, that is only to be expected! Especially given a Fear of her nature. In my boundless wisdom, I did discern a tension between you and your charge."


    Icey bucked in response to the statement, almost throwing the wishbone off.


    "Graves below! Steady there!"


    "S-sorry Lord Quietus. I fear that you¡¯re right. I¡¯ve tried my best to befriend her, but she keeps me at a distance. I think she believes I¡¯m useless."


    "I have never heard such nonsense! Drivel! Was it not you who proposed this ingenious plan? Your insight and perceptiveness is unparalleled."


    "H-huh?"


    The wishbone inclined itself, as if to stare dramatically at the harsh gothic peaks of the Archcity as they rushed by.


    "Trust is built gravestone by gravestone, little ice cube. One stone at a time, until a grand, unshakeable crypt results."


    The irony of a minuscule wishbone calling an ice cube ¡®little¡¯ was entirely lost on him, but his words, even if their veracity was questionable, were comforting.


    "I see¡­ I think I understand."


    "It is only natural for our charges to approach us with wariness. We embody the very things they Fear. And the Fear of ice runs deep in Shiver. Why, when I was training my old subordinates, I¡­ I¡­"


    "Lord Quietus?"


    The wishbone sighed.


    "Forgive me, I sensed something at the edge of my memory but I struggled to reach it. Such is the plight of a newly awakened guide."


    "Don¡¯t worry Quietus! Vale seems to share a passion rivaling Shiver¡¯s own, even though she hides it well! She is sure to further descend into her Fear. You¡¯ll have your memories in no time!"


    "It is ¡°Lord¡± Quietus to you, little ice cube. But your words bring me warmth! Indeed, surprising given your nature, I suppose you do bear a similarity to your charge."


    "F-forgive me!"


    "Alas there is nothing to forgive! Continue onwards! For we hold the fate of our charges in our non-existent palms!"


    "There was something else¡­ did you notice¡­ his presence? The third of us?"


    The wishbone considered Icey¡¯s question carefully.


    "Aye, flickering in and out of existence. To resist the instinctual call of his Fearshaper¡­ I sense a great soul, almost as distinguished as us. Only time will reveal his true nature. For now, we have an innocent to rescue. Onwards!"


    Continuing in silence, Icey raced towards the mansion through which they had entered the Archcity.


    ---


    Pevir rubbed at a sore spot on his neck.


    His third day in the mysterious Archcity ¨C perhaps it wasn¡¯t a surprise that his body was protesting after his relentless study of the lost texts within.


    His joints ached, and as he caught a glimpse of himself in a window, he was surprised at the sight of the bags that hung under his eyes.


    The excitement of the discovery must have worn him down quickly.


    His curiosity did tend to get away from him, as his niece often complained.


    "No point twiddling my thumbs with worry! Roaaaad to mysteries-"


    He halted as he caught a glance of motion on the street outside.


    "What the¡­"


    Had his eyes deceived him? He thought he caught a flash of movement outside. Surely nothing still lived in this forgotten Archcity?


    "It can¡¯t be¡­ Does other life persist here still? I must investigate it!"


    Cupping his bucket hat to prevent it from flying off in his rush, the stout archaeologist hurried down the manor stairs. He opened the double doors leading out towards the street. His mouth fell.


    Before him was a mysterious and incomprehensible sight. A wishbone resting atop a moving ice cube approached at speed.


    Straight towards him.


    "Ah my good man! We¡¯ve found you at last. Time is of the essence!"


    "Y-you can speak! My word, what manner of being are you sir?"


    "It is difficult to fully appreciate my grand-"


    "Lord Quietus! We must hurry!"


    "Of course, of course. Forgive me Pevir, I believe? You are allied with our companions but I suspect you no longer recall them. No matter, hup!"


    The wishbone appeared to exert some effort and leapt onto Pevir¡¯s shoulder. He recoiled with a shout.


    "Ah! Get off me! Help!"


    "Just like you said little ice cube¡­ You were right! I can sense it! Be free of this accursed snake!"


    A soft green glow emanated from the bone, and quickly disappeared through the welt in Pevir¡¯s neck.


    The nightviper slipped out of the sore on Pevir¡¯s neck. Its bones scattering as it hit the ground.


    "AHH! What have you done to me? What is that beast?"


    Pevir recoiled as a sharp pain reached his temples, bringing him to his knees.


    "I have saved you, good man! Your body and mind were under the influence of a dastardly pest. Now remember!"


    Memories flooded into his mind, finally freed from the nightviper¡¯s influence. His head throbbed, and a flood of sensations flooded into him. Pain, hunger, fatigue, all at once. He barely kept himself from falling over.


    "I-I¡­ how long have I been trapped here?"


    "Go Lord Quietus! You must hurry!"


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    "Your only hope for survival lies with us, Pevir. You need only persist for a little longer, this way!"


    Pevir clutched as his head as he broke out into a ungainly jog in the direction instructed by the little wishbone. Being used by lord Triol for days, no weeks, he began to remember


    It was the reason neglect wracked his body and he threatened to bowl over.


    ---


    Howls cut through the still air. They were onto her.


    Icey watched as Pevir, carrying Quietus, ran in the direction of the temple. She hoped that they made it through without encountering any Terrors.


    As for her, she needed to create a diversion.


    Mustering all of the scant power within her, she called forth a frost which shut the doors and sealed them shut.


    It conjured the appearance that Icey had sealed the doors, securing the group¡¯s escape through the mansion entrance.


    The pattering of bones on cobblestone grew nearer, until two undead wolves turned the corner and leapt towards her with a snarl.


    "Heel."


    They stopped abruptly, skidding to a halt and towering over the little ice cube. Triol Revenant emerged, followed by a sneering Lord Semille Flora and his Knights of the Dreadwood.


    "It appears as if the little ice cube believes she can keep her charges safe within, Lord Triol. I haven¡¯t the slightest idea how they got past us. Please allow me."


    "No, do not harm her. If you inflict too much damage, she will return to her charge. I have a better idea. One that will bring them right to us."


    Icey trembled, as the Fearshaper of death approached.


    "I¡¯ll never let you reach them! Stay away from the door!"


    "Come, Silvanis."


    With a flourish of his hand, a sickly green wave burst forth, and a huge, sleek undead eel manifested in the air.


    Icey mustered all of her might, and sent a mental message forth.


    Now Shiver!


    With the passage clear, it was a straight shot to the Academy for the rest.


    Her diversion was successful.


    ---


    Shiver¡¯s eyes burst open when Icey¡¯s message reached her.


    It was faint, and she barely caught it, but it was time to execute their plan, and time was of the essence.


    "Now! Let¡¯s go!"


    Shiver, Vale and Caledon rose upwards from their hiding place within the fountain. A thin layer of frozen black goo was all that had fooled Semille¡¯s Knights into thinking that the fountain was undisturbed. Unbeknownst to them, they had taken refuge beneath the surface.


    They raced through the secret passageway headed towards the academy as the strange black liquid dripped from their clothes.


    "We need to move quickly. As Icey said, the Academy¡¯s guardians will come to recover her once we¡¯re ''admitted''."


    "How does your guide know all of this, Shiver? Lord Quietus knew nothing of it."


    "Not the time Vale."


    The trio emerged from the passage to the sight of the Academy of Anhedonia before them.


    "My word."


    Vale¡¯s breath caught as she took in the sweeping circular courtyards, and the enormous pale dome which housed the academy proper. Her reverie ended as Shiver grabbed onto her arm.


    "Vale focus. Are they close?"


    Vale concentrated, trying to pinpoint her guide.


    "Y-yes, they¡¯re right around the corner. Let¡¯s go to meet them."


    True to her statement, a huffing Pevir turned the corner and paused to marvel at the sight of the academy before him.


    "Pevir, this way!"


    Caledon called out to the stout archaeologist, who started before heading towards them in a brisk jog. His plump cheeks were red and he was out of breath.


    "Youngsters! I remember you. I-"


    "No time, come with us, now."


    Shiver pulled the archaeologist along in a vice-like grip and ran towards the academy. Quickly ascertaining her intention, the rest followed and Vale and Caledon exchanged a glance.


    Ascending the white, marble steps they came to a central courtyard. A soft gust of wind made goosebumps erupt on Shiver¡¯s arms, for as gentle as it was, it was colder than the harsh winter winds that they had braved outside the Archcity. Shiver rushed forward to the shallow pool of water before them and knelt.


    "Remember what Icey told us, everyone except Pevir, kneel in the water and bow your heads."


    Caledon and Vale followed suit. Exchanging nods with the pair they muttered the words in concert.


    "We request admittance. We vow to delve within our Fears to reach Serenity."


    Silence followed and Shiver¡¯s heartbeat heightened.


    Icey was still in danger, they couldn¡¯t afford to waste even a second. They knelt in silence, waiting for the guide that Icey had vowed would appear.


    Shiver froze as she watched as soft ripples appeared in the water beneath her.


    A soft, feminine voice welcomed them.


    "You have been admitted. Welcome to the Academy."


    Suddenly, the trio felt a harsh biting cold impose itself upon their necks, and glancing at the others, Shiver realised that a pale white sigil had imprinted itself on their skin.


    Evidence of their admittance.


    Standing abruptly, Shiver faced the figure before them, taking it in for the first time.


    Her hand shot out to intercept the scream that escaped from Vale mouth.


    A Terror stood before them.


    For there was no other description for the figure standing before them.


    It took the appearance of an elf, cast from frost. It carried itself with an otherworldly grace and beauty, wings comprised of thousands of ice crystals sprouting from her back. Shiver stared into eyes like the abyss, shining a hue of dark blue that you would expect to find in the heart of a glacier.


    Yet, for all of her beauty, Shiver did not sense even a modicum of life behind its eyes.


    "Please, we need your help, my guide is in trouble. Will you help us rescue her?"


    The figure just stared at them, unblinkingly. The silence dragged on.


    "I don¡¯t think she¡¯s listening¡­ This isn¡¯t supposed to happen."


    Caledon warily observed the winged elf, who unblinkingly looked at the academy¡¯s newest recruits.


    "Forget it, I¡¯m going to get Icey-"


    The winged elf moved in an instant. Shiver suddenly found herself in the elf¡¯s cold, vice-like grip.


    The trio froze, astounded at the guardian¡¯s speed.


    "Vale¡­ try leaving."


    Vale gulped, and as she took a step away from the academy, the elf¡¯s head snapped unerringly in her direction, meeting her eyes.


    A chill swept over them.


    "I don¡¯t think she wants us to leave Shiver¡­"


    Caledon shook his head.


    "I can¡¯t believe it, I think- I think Icey lied to us. She told us the academy¡¯s guardians would help us rescue her."


    Shiver laughed.


    "That cheeky little ice cube¡­ I didn¡¯t think she had it in her."


    Which was right when the screams reached her.


    ---


    A short while ago, in the temple.


    "Alright everyone, I have a plan. We need to make it to the academy. Once you reach it, and are admitted as Fearshapers, the academy¡¯s guardian will have an obligation to protect you. The only problem, is that Triol is sure to guard the exit passage to the academy."


    Icey shifted about anxiously as she relayed her plan to the group.


    "But¡­ I have an idea. We can¡¯t abandon poor Pevir, but if Lord Quietus is capable of severing Triol¡¯s connection to him, we would free him from his control and divert Triol¡¯s attention. He¡¯ll believe that we¡¯re attempting to escape the Archcity through the manor entrance ¨C the way we entered."


    Icey halted before them, her voice shaky.


    "I¡¯ll divert them, and give all of you an opportunity to make your way to the academy. Once you¡¯re admitted as new students, you can enlist the guardian¡¯s help to rescue me. Neither of our pursuers would stand a chance against it."


    Caledon, Vale and Shiver remained silent throughout, only exchanging silent glances with one another.


    "I say, that is an excellent plan Icey! From the symptoms you describe, the poor archaeologist must be afflicted with a nightviper. Likely undead, under Triol¡¯s control. I¡¯ll easily make quick work of it, and sever the connection!"


    Shiver remained silent, while Vale anxiously wrung her hands.


    "Icey, I-I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea to abandon you like that. It would be putting you in danger!"


    "Don¡¯t worry Vale! If anything happens to a guide, we simply reappear manifest within you, and we pop out again in no time!"


    Caledon paled at the description, but refrained from commenting, sensing Shiver¡¯s ire.


    "Will you trust me Shiver? Please?"


    Shiver just watched her, tapping her fingers against her crossed arms as she thought. She knelt, and faced her guide.


    "Alright. But be careful, and we¡¯ll be right behind you."


    "Thank you! You won¡¯t regret this."


    Icey¡¯s cheery voice rung out. They quickly assumed their hiding place under the fountain.


    As soon as Semille¡¯s goons scanned the temple, Icey and Quietus left to retrieve Pevir.


    "She¡¯s a bad liar isn¡¯t she. Reminds me of you, princess."


    "W-what? Icey was lying?"


    Caledon interjected to Vale¡¯s surprise.


    "I agree. She was jittery throughout, something¡¯s amiss."


    Shiver raised an eyebrow at Caledon¡¯s assessment.


    "If even this naive lordling could see through her, she¡¯s bound to be lying. It¡¯s just a question about what."


    "Why didn¡¯t you stop her, Shiver?"


    Vale watched as Shiver tightened her fists.


    "Because we don¡¯t have much of a choice, do we?"


    Caledon replied quietly, his eyes lingering on Shiver¡¯s clouded expression.


    "You don¡¯t trust her."


    "No. No, I don¡¯t."

 Chapter 22: A Beautiful Fear

    Icey let out a bloodcurling scream.


    Silvanis¡¯ venom carved a path through her body, eroding it by the second. Triol watched, as his guide¡¯s venom, gathered into a jar, ate away at the ice cube trapped inside.


    The frost that coated the mansion doors was quickly dispelled by Triol¡¯s efforts, and it hadn¡¯t been long before he discovered that Icey had set up a diversion. No traces of Vale or her companions were left in the mansion or at the hidden entrance to the Archcity which it led to. Which meant, they must have found a way to hide in the temple after their awakening.


    "Be careful, Silvanis. If she¡¯s snuffed out, she¡¯ll just return to her Fearshaper. This way, her agony will lead her charge straight to us."


    "What a delightful plan."


    Silvanis circled the jar with twisted joy, watching the ice cube¡¯s torment.


    Icey had been placed into a transparent jar. Silvanis, Triol¡¯s guide, floated in the air above it, and from the undead eel¡¯s fangs dropped a potent poison that sunk slowly and painfully through Icey¡¯s body. Each one of the ice cube¡¯s cries buffeted the surroundings with a small wave of ice.


    "Surprisingly, she¡¯s fairly resilient. Perhaps her Fearshaper has descended further into her Fear than I anticipated."


    Triol casually reflected out loud, as he watched Silvanis slowly erode Icey¡¯s body and sanity.


    "Get ready Lord Semille, they¡¯ll be here any moment. Keep an eye out for Terrors."


    "Brilliant, Lord Triol, you live up to the Revenant name! How devious, turning the little ice cube¡¯s agony into the perfect trap."


    Triol calmly received Semille¡¯s grin. He checked the Dreadwood knights'' encampment. They were hidden and poised to strike as soon as their targets appeared in the street before them.


    Icey¡¯s ragged cries continued to pierce the silence. Lord Semille sauntered to the jar.


    "Poor thing, it looks like your beloved Fearshaper has abandoned you. You should call out to her, don¡¯t leave us all waiting."


    "Lord Semille."


    "I hope you don¡¯t mind my fun, Lord Trio-"


    "They approach."


    Lord Semille stiffened, and quickly took position together with his knights.


    ---


    From the moment she had met Icey, Shiver had been repulsed by her.


    Not only did she have no say in precisely who her guide was, Icey physically embodied the very thing that caused her so much pain and dread.


    Her reaction was only natural.


    Then, came her guide''s childish character. Ever cheery, naive and reckless. Beyong even that, the ice cube was a contradiction. For all she that acted like a child, she seemed to possess an innate knowledge that was beyond all of them.


    All excellent reasons to dislike her.


    Yet it seemed like that very same na?ve guide that so repulsed her, had sacrificed herself for them.


    Icey had lied about the academy guardian''s willingness to be enlisted to help save her. The winged Terror had been apathetic to Icey¡¯s fate, even as Shiver continued to hear her bloodcurling screams echo through her skull.


    She had lied, to ensure that Shiver, Vale and Caledon would reach the academy. She knew that its guardian would keep them there.


    Away from Triol and Semille.


    Away from her.


    A small price to pay for an impossible escape.


    As Lord Quietus had informed them, guides would eventually reform within their Fearshapers if they perished, at least within Anhedonia. It was the suffering that was the problem. It would leave its mark, as it would on any mundane elf. Her screams reached her across the distance, tearing straight into her mind.


    That Feardamned ice cube was sacrificing herself for them. She hadn¡¯t given them a choice in the matter.


    Well, not on her watch.


    "And how exactly do you know if this will work Shiver? I¡¯m too young to die!"


    "Oh, shush princess, we¡¯ll be fine."


    "And how do you figure, that?"


    Vale huffed, as she beelined away from the palace with Shiver, struggling to exchange words with her as they sprinted.


    "Hopefully that lordling will buy us enough time."


    "Oh? Coming to trust the nobility now?"


    "Hardly. Just look at you my lady, nothing about you screams reliable."


    Vale huffed, staring at Shiver with wild eyes. Unlike Shiver, Vale¡¯s stamina was rapidly approaching its limits. They tore through the grey fog of the Archcity, running blindly into its depths, guided only by the scarce orbs of light that lined its streets.


    They approached a fork in the path before them.


    "Well you¡¯d better hope that I am reliable, or this plan is going nowhere!"


    With a cry, Vale turned down another street and sprinted with a scream.


    Even if they drew Terrors towards them, they wouldn¡¯t be a threat to them for long. In the distance, Shiver heard Caledon shout in alarm.


    Before his voice disappeared.


    One down, one to go.


    Shiver continued to sprint towards the mansion, her muscles burning as if Brimstone¡¯s very own coals were being dragged across her body. But she kept putting one foot after another. In the silence of the dark Archcity before her, it hadn¡¯t taken much time before Vale¡¯s shouts came to an abrupt end.


    I guess that leaves only me. Catch me if you can.


    Shiver felt a chill creep up on her. Whatever the academy¡¯s Terror was, it seemed to rival, no, eclipse the power of the blizzard that had raged outside the Archcity. Even as she tore through the Archcity''s streets alone, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder about the nature of the Terror¡¯s existence.


    Back at the academy, the guardian had blocked their path as soon as any made any move to escape it. As soon as they fell into its clutches, they were teleported back to the academy in a shower of frost.


    What she would give for that kind of power. With it, her revenge wouldn¡¯t be such an unlikely dream. The guardian definitely bore some similarity to the woman in her nightmare, that was for certain. They both carried an undeniable presence, and command over ice. Not to mention their wings, comprised of innumerable shards of ice.


    Now, it was right on her heels.


    "Just, a little more¡­"


    Shiver burst across the corner, and leapt with a devilish smile straight at Lord Semille who gazed at her in shock.


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    Instinctively, from behind the barricade that they had erected, he extended his hand with a shout, calling his Fear into reality. Shiver hesitated, as a familiar feeling returned. The brief feeling that had washed over her in the orphanage, when she had briefly comprehended the shape of the lord¡¯s Fear of plants.


    This time, it was more intense than the Fear he had called in the orphanage.


    [Thorn prison]


    Wiry vines covered in deadly thorns erupted from the cobblestone streets. Small shards of rock and dirt flew from their sudden emergence, surging straight towards her. Shiver fearlessly maintained her bearing, spotting a jar on the ground before her. In an instant, she recognised that it was the source of the screams that echoed in her skull.


    Shiver thrust her hand to extract Icey from Silvanis¡¯ venom. Her skin burned, and she felt it melting into her hand, but the tormented screams that rang through her skull came to an abrupt stop.


    Which was right when Semille¡¯s thorns tore across her skin, enveloping her whole. Rivulets of blood emerged as she fell into the grip of the vines.


    Locking eyes with Semille, her lips, scored by cuts, parted into a bloody smile.


    "NO, SHIVER!"


    Icey watched her charge fall straight into Lord Semille¡¯s trap.


    Overcoming his momentary surprise, he didn¡¯t spare even a second to gloat.


    Would you look at that, Triol! Right into my clut-"


    "Behind you!"


    Semille whipped his head around, as he felt the temperature drop. Having experienced Brimstone¡¯s harsh winterlands, the very first time he had left the city¡¯s comfortable protective dome, the immediate drop in temperature had been enough to render him senseless for a moment.


    It did not compare to the cold that he experienced at present.


    Semille gaped as a long, sleek sword of bright ice speared through his stomach, casually ripping its way out through his midriff and out to the side. He felt every modicum of warmth flee from his body, and tears welled in his eyes in response to the piercing pain.


    Before instantly freezing in their tracks.


    He stared wordlessly into the Terror¡¯s eyes before him, his eyelids held open against his will by frozen tears of his own making.


    He stared into its infinite eyes, that looked like a blizzard of stars, circling in the darkest of voids.


    Wings of ice extended outwards from her back.


    He had not sensed her approach. Not even the slightest of sounds had betrayed her presence.


    The winged Terror that resembled a beautiful elf tore its elegant blade free from his side, and through his armour with the slightest flick of her wrist. Its dark lips parted to whisper something that was lost to him, as the sound of the blizzard around her grew.


    Triol stood shocked, Fear wracking his body as he comprehended a being far beyond his power. His lips were numb from the cold, and he shivered as he clutched at his side, attempting to retain whatever warmth remained before it fled him.


    Before he could react, the Terror thrust its arm into the vines, freezing them over instantly and shattering them into tiny slivers of ice.


    Then, the world was engulfed in black flame.


    Triol watched as a shield of frost blinked into existence over him, the sigil of the academy burning cold on his own neck. Similarly, Shiver was protected from the sea of black flame that washed over them.


    Lord Semille and his knights bore the full brunt of the immolation.


    Then in an instant, the flame blinked away, betraying not a single lingering fragment of its passage. So quick that he thought it a figment of his imagination, questioning his grip on reality.


    Then his eyes were drawn to one of the dark towers above them, where another Terror was perched.


    Shiver recognised it as the same one she had seen on the clocktower.


    She felt the urge to call her daggers into existence. Then to drive them into her eyes, to free herself from its form.


    A black halo of flame raged above its head.


    Its skin parted once more, as six vertical slits tore open featureless skin to reveal its eyes. Six of them in total, lined in two vertical columns, each containing a solid dark ring.


    As it drew closer, Shiver felt a second urge.


    To impale herself on her guardian¡¯s sword and bring an end to her existence, to free herself from its ire.


    The academy¡¯s Terror executed a half-moon slash.


    With a casual flick of her sword lasting less than a second, a line of frost emanated outwards in an arc from her feet where her strike began, to the point above her shoulder, where it ended.


    Shiver blinked, and it had sliced clean through cobblestone road in an arc, through to the tower on which the creature was perched.


    A vertical slash appeared a moment later across the Terror¡¯s body.


    The guardian¡¯s cut had bisected its halo, and a line of black flame dripped from its injury. Its numerous eyes silently fixed upon the guardian.


    When Shiver blinked, the Terror was gone, as if it had never been present in their reality to begin with.


    As Shiver began to doubt her memories, her guardian¡¯s dark blue eyes turned to her.


    Shiver¡¯s body began to shake as if only just reacting to the events she had witnessed. She felt an overwhelming urge to weep, the adrenaline mixing with dread in a deadly concoction.


    The sight of the blizzard of stars within the Terror¡¯s eyes, calmed her, dispelling her delirium.


    As her lucidity returned, the thought came to her-


    I was utterly at their mercy. Neither my mind nor my body was safe.


    Looking into the deep pools that were its eyes, Shiver¡¯s quivering lips stretched themselves into a savage grin.


    The guardian grabbed her, a bright convergence of frost engulfing them in a spiral.


    In an instant, Shiver and her saviour had disappeared.


    ---


    Shiver tumbled onto the academy grounds, clutching Icey tightly to her body. In an instant, the guardian had transported her back to the central courtyard. Shiver¡¯s body was wracked with the cold. She shivered uncontrollably as her vision swam before her. She was freezing, inside and out. Her thoughts impeded by the dominance of ice. Then, she saw a flash of something, in the corner of her eye.


    A bloody smile drew itself into existence.


    Then, flesh begin to part, as it continued, revealing a maw that yawned before her, from ear to ear.


    "Miss me?"


    Shiver leapt towards it in a scream, her Phobia crystallising in one hand as she clutched Icey in the other. She forced her aching muscles into compliance as she sprung forwards, lunging at the ice shade that bore her own face.


    The shade from her nightmares.


    "Wait Shiver, wait! It¡¯s only Vale!"


    Caledon leapt, intercepting Shiver mid-jump and tackling her to the ground. The girl scratched and scarped, and he grunted as he barely kept a hold of her.


    "It''s her Fear! Get Vale away from her!"


    "Get off me you damned l-lordling."


    Shiver struggled as Caledon held her to the ground.


    "Take a second and look at who you just tried to attack!"


    Shiver paused, her chest heaving with fatigue as Caledon¡¯s shallow breaths warmed her cheek. Her eyes widened as she recognised Vale, a look of terror on her face.


    "Vale-"


    "I-it¡¯s ok."


    The girl swallowed, her face pale. She forced her expression into one of understanding. Shiver felt guilt well up in her chest.


    "It must have been your Fear right? Think nothing of it Shiver."


    Overcoming her reluctance, she crouched down next to her, taking one of her hands in her own. She was so warm.


    "You¡¯re alright? You got Icey?¡¯"


    Shiver just nodded, struggling to stay conscious as her teeth clattered.


    Vale nodded to Caledon.


    "Let¡¯s get her inside. And warm. She¡¯s been hurt. Both her body and her mind, it seems. Shiver¡­ do you want me to hold Icey?"


    "N-no, s-she¡¯s not going anywhere."


    "I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry. I lied Shiver. You wouldn¡¯t have let me go if you had kno-"


    Shiver coughed and shook her head.


    "N-none of that. I¡¯m demoting you to p-popsicle for lying to us. Now h-hush."


    Caledon and Vale ushered Shiver and Icey to the entrance of the academy before them.


    Pevir and Quietus followed suit, silently cheering at their return.


    ---


    The academy¡¯s guardian watched as the group made their way inside the academy that she guarded.


    Only to turn its head once more, to the looming cliffside in the distance.


    Triol locked eyes with the Terror from across the vast space between them.


    The sight of it, fixing him with its gaze, provoked a memory of an old interaction with his father when he had been en route to the Archcity of Fear.


    His father¡¯s words. Delivered in the form of a familiar ivory crow, in the quiet of night.


    "Tell me Triol, do you know what happens to powerful Fearshapers when they die?"


    "No, my lord."


    "Some leave behind a legacy. A final amalgamation of their wishes and their Fears which converge in twisted brilliance. Making their will manifest. Their Inheritance. The Academy of Anhedonia was born of the dying wish of a monster beyond even I, long dead. Its keeper and guardian, a Terror bent to the will of its creator, and cast from her own image. Long before us, there were true nightmares that walked Elucidor. Beyond even the Terrors that stalk it now, in its waning state. We stumble blindly in their stead, pathetic in our weakness. In our arrogance."


    Valefor and Idriel, Elucidor¡¯s twin moons graced him with their beautiful light.


    The crow looked off into the dark sky above them.


    "We look to the clouds high above us and assume that we comprehend the limits of power."


    The crow returned its gaze to Triol.


    "Only to have forgotten the stars that lie beyond."


    His father¡¯s voice reached him one final time, as he began to shake.


    "Shape a beautiful Fear, Triol. Perhaps one day, you will dream as they did."

 Chapter 23: Acknowledgement

    Vale peered at the roof of the medical bay, cloaked in stars.


    The Academy of Anhedonia lived up to its name. An academy of Fearshaping, dedicated to ushering Fearshapers towards Serenity, a freedom from the prisons of their Fears.


    Before they began their exploration, their first priority was to ensure that Shiver was properly treated.


    She had lunged headfirst into Semille¡¯s thorns, brought forth from the lord¡¯s Fear. Not only was she bloody from the endeavour, the proximity to the Academy¡¯s guardian had sapped her of all warmth and triggered her hallucinations.


    Vale still recalled how Shiver had raised her dagger against her, mistaking her for the shade that stalked her. She tried her best to reassure herself that Shiver would never bring her harm. However, the seed of doubt once placed, was difficult to shake. Vale gazed at the ivory scepter in her hand, and wondered how her Fear would play tricks on her.


    "Mmf mmmmf mmfmfmm."


    On second thought, her fear of Shiver was a little easier to dislodge after seeing her with a face entirely covered by bandages.


    "Yes, Shiver it is absolutely necessary for your healing. And no, I haven¡¯t botched it up, I¡¯ve done it exactly how my tutors have taught me."


    Vale smugly admired her work, her pride at her artistry clear to the onlookers. She interpreted Shiver¡¯s mumbles with unparalleled confidence and accuracy. Shiver¡¯s hands were completely wrapped in bandages, covering the numerous cuts inflicted by Semille¡¯s thorns. Caledon had been trying and failing to keep a straight face. Thankfully, Shiver¡¯s view was too obstructed to notice.


    "Excellent work Vale! You were taught very well!"


    Vale looked on in horror as Shiver abruptly tore away the bandages covering her mouth, undoing her masterwork. Perhaps it was optimistic of her to hope that they would have been left untouched. Caledon wore a slight look of disappointment.


    Then, her mirth subsided as she recalled just what the girl had done. They were still powerless, having so recently awakened to Anhedonia, the first stage of Fear. When Vale had thought that she went to great lengths to accomplish her goals, that crazy orphan had come along with a lesson in humility.


    Shiver was Insane when she put her mind to something.


    Using the academy¡¯s Terror as a glorified carriage to rescue Icey and abscond from their pursuers. Fearlessly drawing the ire of the Terrors in the city, getting caught in an encounter between two of them, and living to tell the tale.


    She strode in genius and madness, both in equal measure. It was inspiring really.


    Upon their arrival, Icey had promptly led them towards the medical bay of the academy. Rows of beds with dark grey sheets lined the large room. It was cloaked in a dim, silvery light, emitted from the pinpricks of light housed in the darkness of the arched roofs. It mimicked the night sky, and staring at the ceiling set her at ease, which she guessed had been the intention behind its design. Such excess, so casually on display. Vale supposed it was to be expected from a legendary Fearshaping academy.


    She was eager to see what else awaited them.


    Shiver groaned as she turned to her side.


    "I¡¯m hungry."


    Vale snorted.


    "Of course those are the first words out of your mouth."


    "If you¡¯re not careful I¡¯ll eat you my lady."


    "Go to sleep."


    Shiver pouted as she lay on her back. She glanced to her side, where Icey lay beside on the bed.


    "Shiver, can I-"


    "Popsicle not another word from you. You aren¡¯t going anywhere."


    Her guide gasped in shock at her new moniker.


    "But¡­ My name is Icey¡­-"


    Shiver¡¯s grey eyes flashed. Vale sighed, shaking her head.


    Rookie mistake.


    "Not anymore it isn¡¯t. You¡¯re wondering why? They look delicious, enticing, until you pop them in your mouth and they make you want to jump into an inferno to escape the dread that creeps in with the cold-"


    "Shiver, I think that¡¯s a you problem."


    "I¡¯m calling you Popsicle because they lie. Got it?"


    Caledon watched the exchange silently, fighting to prevent his lips from turning upwards into a smile. It was hard to imagine these two conspiring to murder the lord from House Flora. The longer he spent with them, the more he was convinced there was more to it than a straightforward murder attempt.


    Then Shiver¡¯s voice lost its cheer.


    "Don¡¯t ever do that again."


    "B-but... You wouldn¡¯t have escaped otherwise. We had no choice."


    The silence drew on between them. Vale and Caledon exchanged a glance.


    "How would you feel if I threw away my life for yours? Without giving you a say in it? Would you be able to live with the weight of my sacrifice?"


    Shiver¡¯s words began to grow more biting, taking on the form of her Fear.


    "I¡¯ve already lost the only people that ever cared for me. I¡¯m not going to lose someone else. Not again."


    Icey only sat on the bed in silence, unable to answer Shiver. Before the girl plucked her up and set her in her lap. Caledon turned away from the pair, with a soft smile. It seemed like there was more to the girl than simple rage, Insanity and bloodlust.


    It didn¡¯t escape him that just a moment ago Shiver had greeted her guide with distance and distrust. Keeping the ice cube at an arm¡¯s length. Now, he watched as she doted on Icey, checking her for any lingering effects of the toxin.


    In the short time that I¡¯ve come to know her, she doesn¡¯t seem like the type of person to murder someone baselessly.


    Caledon frowned, falling deeper in thought.


    Why did father kill them? What was Lord Semille carrying?


    The two questions that continued to gnaw at him. He knew that the lord from House Flora was powerful. Powerful enough, perhaps, to convince his father to appease his taste for revenge.


    No, father would never kill to just to appease another. Innocents? Out of the question.


    Then his thoughts turned dark as he was reminded of House Flora¡¯s influence. The Archcities¡¯ reliance on their resources. Caledon¡¯s eyes hardened and he shook his head, dispelling the stray thought. Then he paled, as he realised that Shiver would probably seek him out to discuss the incident. Not something he was looking forward to.


    Then, his mind wandered to a third question, that had simmered beneath the surface of his consciousness, lingering ever since he had entered the temple.


    Shiver didn¡¯t awaken in the temple. How did she awaken as a Fearshaper? I should ask her about it... but perhaps I''ll give it a while. I don''t want to get skewered.


    Caledon was brought out of his reverie by cheerful voices.


    He turned towards ¡°Lord Quietus¡±, the regal wishbone, who stood nearby, talking with Pevir Veringold, the archaeologist they had rescued.


    "My good man! A glorious moustache you sport!"


    "U-uh why thank you, Quietu-"


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    "Lord Quietus it is! I¡¯ll forgive it, for your curiosity is unparalleled, my good man! Ceaselessly exploring the depths of this unforsaken city. You are an archaeologist to admire!"


    Pevir bashfully adjusted his round, copper glasses, his moustache twitching in satisfaction at the wishbone¡¯s compliments. All well deserved, in Caledon¡¯s opinion.


    "Forgive me, Lord Quietus. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance good sir. I must say, it is fascinating to encounter a being such as yourself. I can¡¯t say I have ever encountered a Fearshaper¡¯s guide before."


    Lord Quietus let out a grand chuckle, hopping regally towards the stout archaeologist.


    "Do ask your lingering questions, as they arise. You are certainly deserving of answers, my good man."


    Pevir brightened. It pleased Caledon to see the man already looking better than he had been, with a bit of rest and food. He had looked worn out, with sunken eyes barely concealed behind the shine of his glasses. The slightest sheen of sweat shone on his forehead.


    Caledon frowned.


    I hope he¡¯s alright. It would only be natural to fall sick after his ordeal.


    Pevir continued.


    "No, I must thank you. You didn¡¯t leave me behind, saving me from that dastardly pest, a nightviper was it?"


    "Indeed Archaeologist Pevir, its toxin coaxes you into a state of stupor, making you forget yourself and your memories temporarily as it keeps you in a liminal state. It is an insidious pest which that Fearshaper implanted into you."


    "My word¡­ why would he do such a thing¡­"


    Caledon silently agreed. For all that Vale¡¯s brother was unassuming and their pursuer, he hadn¡¯t expected him to be so cruel. Keeping Pevir in a state of stupor for weeks on end, using him as a tool to gain knowledge. It spoke to his cruelty towards life.


    "I suspect he was after your expertise, my good man. There would be few elves so dedicated to the exercise of history, as you. Uncovering the secrets of Elucidor. I have always admired the creed of your profession. Why, back in my-"


    Lord Quietus tapered off, falling silent. He halted in his regal hopping, as if growing troubled for a moment.


    "Even guides surely tire, my lord. Do take a moment to rest."


    Pevir sat heavily on one of the other beds. The wishbone that was Lord Quietus hopped onto it shortly after.


    Caledon¡¯s eyes lingered on the wishbone, then on Icey. Yet another mystery rose to greet him. In ordinary circumstances, he would have been enthralled at all the questions to unravel.


    Now? He was getting a bit tired of them.


    Where¡¯s my guide. I¡¯m a Fearshaper too¡­ aren¡¯t I?


    "Head in the clouds, Lord Caledon?"


    Caledon met Vale¡¯s eyes.


    The lady from House Revenant sported long, blonde hair that escaped from her cloak of trimmed darksilver. She had pretty lavender eyes that shone with an intense curiosity, even as they lay trapped in the middle of a cursed death-academy that prevented them from leaving. Vale frowned, and Shiver idly kicked her legs before her as she lay on the bed, disinterested in their conversation ¨C a pleasant change.


    "May I have a word?"


    "Of course."


    "I¡¯m curious¡­ how exactly do you suppose Icey knew about this place? From the guardian to its nature? From what I can tell¡­ Quietus- I mean, Lord Quietus, barely has any memories of himself. Though guides appear to have certain contextual knowledge about our world... the nightviper included. Not to mention..."


    Vale¡¯s eyes flashed with curiosity.


    "The implications. For the nature of their existence. What they are."


    He had certainly given some thought as to just what Fearshaper¡¯s guides were. They were empowered with a rudimentary knowledge of Fearshaping ¨C at least, the current stage of Fear that their Fearshapers languished in. Beyond that, they seemed to be bereft of any other memories but contextual ones, that gave them an understanding of the world around them.


    With some exceptions, of course. Caledon cast a glance towards the ice cube nestled in Shiver¡¯s lap. Nestled, unwillingly, it seemed. He watched as Icey ineffectively attempted to flee from Shiver¡¯s grasp.


    Vale continued her line of thought.


    "There¡¯s more to that little ice cube than she lets on to. I asked her, you know. How she knew about the guardian. Or even how she found this medical bay."


    Caledon returned a glance of surprise.


    "You did?"


    Vale nodded, with a pensive expression.


    "She said that she didn¡¯t know. That it came instinctually to her. Naturally, when her mind turned to it."


    "Fascinating, though hard to believe."


    "I agree."


    "Do you think she was sincere?"


    Vale nodded. Shooting him a brief smile.


    "I do. If there¡¯s one redeeming trait of hers, it''s that she¡¯s terrible at lying. The nature of our guides certainly are a mystery. Besides, I¡¯ve begun to wonder¡­ where is your guide Lord Caledon?"


    "Um, just ¡°Caledon¡± is fine."


    "Indeed, please call me Vale."


    The two fidgeted awkwardly. Caledon cleared his throat.


    "I¡¯m not sure. I¡¯ve tried calling out ¨C both out loud, and in my mind."


    Caledon blushed at the admission. It was silly when he said it out loud. Mercifully, Vale didn¡¯t spare him a second glance, instead staring ahead of her in concentration.


    "Nothing. I¡¯ve heard no response. The Matchmaker did say that my guide was¡­ conflicted."


    Caledon manifested the torch that he had received after awakening as a Fearshaper.


    "Hmm interesting¡­ Perhaps we will discover more when we explore the academy."


    Vale¡¯s eyes betrayed an intense excitement, which, as Caledon was ashamed to admit, he shared himself.


    It wasn¡¯t every day that you found yourself in a lost academy of Fearshaping.


    A lost academy of Fearshaping that trapped you within never to let you leave. At least, as far as he knew.


    "There is one question we do need to ask you, Icey."


    Vale turned to Icey, who retreated behind Shiver¡¯s bed at her glower.


    "Did you know this academy would trap us here once we were admitted as students?"


    The silence drew onwards, an answer in and of itself. Finally, the ice cube slunk forwards.


    "I¡­ I did. I w-wanted you to be safe. The academy¡¯s grounds forbid violence, except where sanctioned. If they followed us and tried to hurt us¡­ the guardian would intervene."


    Icey tone betrayed her guilt and shame at lying to them. Caledon frowned as he puzzled over the nature of the academy¡¯s rules.


    "Icey¡­ is there anything preventing Triol or Semille from entering the academy?"


    An uncomfortable silence hung in the air before them.


    "N-no¡­ there isn¡¯t. Triol seems to have been admitted as a student, from the frost ward raised by the academy''s guardian. He has descended from Anhedonia, and is free to enter and exit as he pleases. As for Semille... anyone is free to roam the academy, enrolment is unnecessary. Though they cannot partake of its resources without admission. Overall... while they may enter, they won''t be able to bring you harm."


    Caledon¡¯s mind passed over her words. Only Fearshapers in Anhedonia, the very first stage of Fear were trapped. What a curious rule. What was the reasoning behind it?


    "That means we have to descend to the next stage of Fear before we can leave."


    "That¡¯s right! And the first obstacle to overcome is acknowledgment. You will have to confront, and acknowledge the nature of your Fear in your dreams. Achieving this, will bring your Fear closer to you, into your awareness."


    Icey, emboldened by her lecture, started zipping between them, her voice gradually regaining its characteristic levity. Vale smirked as she saw Shiver¡¯s lips upturn in the slightest smile.


    "Once you complete your acknowledgment, you¡¯ll be able to form your Fearcore!"


    Their gazes collectively locked onto the ice cube at the word.


    Fearcore?


    Now she had their attention.


    "Now that you¡¯re Fearshapers, your nightmares will be a useful means of facilitating your descension - at some stages more than others. In Anhedonia, your nightmares are crucial. Do not shy away from your Fears. Confronting them, deciphering their shape, their nature, is the first step to mastery-"


    Shiver leapt off her bed and plucked the ice cube up, placing it on her shoulder.


    "Enough about that¡­ what¡¯s this about a Fearcore?"


    "Oh it¡¯s nothing special¡­ Think of it as a receptacle for your Fear that you form within you when completing the second stage of Ahedonia - embracement. The creation of your Fearcore will mark your descent from Anhedonia to Trepidation! But that¡¯s boring, don¡¯t you want to acknowledge your F-"


    Shiver¡¯s lips pulled into a gleaming grin. Caledon shuddered. If that was how Shiver smiled on a good day¡­ he could only imagine how her shade looked to her. She clapped her hands together.


    "Well then! This Fearcore sounds fascinating, and I¡¯m sure it would have a wide range of applications, hmm? What was the next step? Acknowledgment? Guess that means we should be getting a good night¡¯s rest to confront our Fears in the nightmare."


    Icey slipped from her shoulder onto the ground, marking her assent with her excitement.


    Ever since awakening, all three of them had heard a¡­ yearning.


    To dream. It called to them, softly, as if seducing them with the promise of power. Horrors. Any combination of both.


    Their very first hurdle, would be to confront their Fears, acknowledging them, by revisiting the very moment of their inception.


    Caledon gulped, as he manifested his Phobia in his hand, the dark, wooden torch which bore no flame.


    "There¡¯s only one thing left to settle. The fine gentlemen that are in pursuit of us."


    Shiver spoke up once more, inclining her head towards Icey.


    "You said that the guardian outside only permits sanctioned violence?"


    A grin filled her face once more.


    "Leave them to me when they finally arrive. For now, it¡¯s off to the nightmare. And when we awaken¡­"


    Her eyes glinted in the starlight cast down from the roof of the medical bay.


    "The Academy of Anhedonia awaits."

 Chapter 24: Nightmares

    Caledon opened his eyes to a familiar sight before him.


    The nightmare, it was just like Icey had said¡­ That¡¯s right, I¡¯m a Fearshaper now. No more blissful uninterrupted sleep free of terrifying dreams.


    Caledon took in his surroundings, realising that he was in Brimstone Manor. In the living hall, before a familiar hearth that warmed him with its gentle flame.


    His attention was drawn to a figure standing across the room. Caledon watched, as his father, Berevan Brimstone softly exchanged words with Silas. As his eyes perceptively traced his butler¡¯s impassive expression, he began to see the beginnings of cracks emerge as his father¡¯s expression progressively grew more devious.


    The butler threatened to crack with every second that went by. Caledon snorted.


    No doubt, father is at it again with his outrageous comments. Silas, don¡¯t break.


    "Hiya, take that!"


    Viveria¡¯s voice punctuated the air. Glancing to his left, Caledon watched his sister perform sword forms while perched precariously on her chair. She wielded the rapier elegantly, filling her invisible foe with innumerable holes.


    Caledon winced as he watched her blade glance off the dining table, sure to leave a mark.


    Settling back into his chair, Caledon¡¯s lips turned into a soft smile. A nightmare? This was a welcome reprieve from the chaos that had surrounded him ever since he had begun his mission. He let out a sigh, as the heat of the hearth sunk further into him.


    Then, he frowned in confusion as he noticed a strange sensation.


    Why¡­ is my heart throbbing?


    Caledon grew alert, but all he saw before him was the familiar, comforting scene of his family, enjoying the peace of one another¡¯s presence. Treasuring the smallest things, carried the greatest value.


    Strange. It¡¯s just like any other day.


    As for his Fear?


    It was nowhere to be seen.


    Caledon surrendered himself to a pleasant dream of warmth and comfort.


    ---


    Vale roused to her mother¡¯s voice, staring at a familiar ceiling. She blinked as she took in the slight crenulations in the stone above her, a feature of the roof she had spent many an evening pouring over as a young girl.


    "Vale! Time to wake up! We have a big day ahead of us today."


    With dread welling in her gut, Vale turned to take in the room around her. It was her old home. Her mother¡¯s words were just as she remembered, on the day that everything had changed.


    She felt nausea begin to well in her gut, having replayed the events of the day in her mind countless times, desperately wishing to reach back through time¡­


    And to run.


    "Ah Vale, your very first delve into the nightmare."


    Vale yelped as she spotted a wishbone standing vertically on her bed beside her. Fear filled her as she came to grips with the same realisation as Caledon.


    This is a nightmare. I¡¯m a Fearshaper now.


    She gripped her temples, which had started throbbing. The sound of her mother¡¯s humming made her want to burst out of her room and envelop her in a hug, in spite of all of her shortcomings.


    This isn¡¯t real.


    "Hello, Lord Quietus."


    The little wishbone addressed her in a solemn voice, hopping to her side.


    "Vale, I know how terrible this must seem to you. That pesky ice cube didn¡¯t let me get a word in! Nevermind that, a Fearshaper¡¯s very first nightmare is centered around the very event that triggered their Fear. To descend from Anhedonia, you will need to truly acknowledge, confront and embrace your Fear."


    Vale desperately attempted to focus on the situation before her. She heard little feet pattering outside, drawing closer to her door. Her mind went blank.


    Dawn.


    Ignoring Quietus, she bolted towards the door. She swung it open to find her younger sister beaming before her. Tears fled from her eyes as she enveloped her sister in a hug.


    "Gud morning skelebumf."


    Her sister struggled to get the words out as Vale pressed her tightly into the crook of her arm. Vale swiped at her tears, before holding her sister at arm¡¯s length. She stared at Dawn¡¯s face, raking in her every feature, and committing each detail to memory.


    She took in her little pigtails that were lopsided and asymmetrical. Her sister had never quite gotten the style down like Blaze had. Dawn¡¯s eyebrows were slightly thicker than her own, and they shaded large, dark lavender eyes. Even though all three of their siblings had shared the trait, Vale always thought they had suited Dawn the best.


    Dawn stuck her tongue out at her, who responded in kind, pushing her gently out of the room before her sister noticed tears welling into her eyes once more.


    "Hey! That was rude skelebum!"


    "You¡¯re rude! Wait until I¡¯m ready silly."


    "But you¡¯re already awake!"


    "Shoo, go help mother. And you need to fix your pigtails."


    Vale pressed her back against the door as she took a deep shuddering breath. Her mother interjected from the kitchen.


    "Oh Dawn, you know what a big day it is today, you girls will finally be meeting your father, isn¡¯t that exciting!"


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    Her eyes hardened, and she wiped away the tears that traced their way down her cheeks. She gently opened the door, leaving a small gap. She heard Dawn call out to their mother.


    "But mother! I don¡¯t want to leave our home. Can¡¯t I just stay here with you? I don¡¯t want to stay at Soulmaven."


    "It¡¯s ¡°Soulhaven¡± dear."


    "Brone and Cathy say the Revenants are scary. I don¡¯t want to go to the skeleton castle, ma."


    Today was the day Highlord Vetrian Revenant had come to retrieve his bastard children. Their lives had never been the same since. Vale recalled how na?ve she had been, craving the thrill of becoming a noble. Which little girl born in a small village didn¡¯t want to be called to the nobility? To be surrounded with powerful and beautiful people, in grand castles, having secret exchanges in luscious gardens.


    Her sister on the other hand, hadn¡¯t wanted to leave.


    "Triol! Are you ready darling? Today is a big day for all of us, but you especially."


    Vale struggled to keep the nausea from welling up at the sound of her brother¡¯s name. Yet the expression that he gave her as he passed her door was not one of anger, disgust or annoyance. It was just the innocent excitement of a boy who longed to reunite with his father. The same excitement they had all shared, that day.


    "Yes mother."


    Triol was dressed smartly, his wavy blonde hair neatly styled. The sight would have sent many of the village girls sprawling.


    Vale blinked, and the scene around her changed abruptly. Her breath caught.


    She now stood outside her house, watching a regal carriage approach, drawn by two immense black steeds.


    "Vale, be alert, in the nightmare, your sense of time may be distorted. I know it may be challenging, but you must face your Fear, acknowledge it. Otherwise, your nightmare will continue, repeating interminably, with no end. Fear not, my young charge, for you could not have bonded with a better guide to help you seize the object of your Fear, and turn it to your will!"


    Vale¡¯s face twitched into a smile as she was quickly reminded of Lord Quietus¡¯ unshakeable confidence. But she struggled to concentrate as the events began to unfold.


    "Lord Quietus¡­ will I be able to¡­ change what happens in the nightmare?"


    Her whispers didn¡¯t seem to draw her family¡¯s attention. The little wishbone let out a soft sigh. It inclined itself towards her.


    "Oh young Vale, you should know that it wouldn¡¯t matter, even if you could."


    Lord Quietus hesitated, eventually relenting.


    "You may experience deviations in your nightmares. You may even notice things that previously escaped your attention. But any attempt to stray from your nightmare might terminate it. Never forget, this is not your reality, what has happened has already come to pass. Muster your determination to influence your future!"


    The carriage door opened, and she saw her mother smile nervously.


    Asale Revenant¡¯s lips were painted a dark burgundy, and she sported an elegant black dress. Dawn and Vale were similarly garbed in black gowns, and their mother had rigorously tamed their flowing blonde hair and dressed them in the finest cloth she could get her hands on.


    Triol stood straight, his back overly rigid and chest puffed out, eager to make an impression. Poorly schooled excitement and nervousness was on clear display. Shamefully similarly to her own on that fateful day.


    A young woman from the villages who had met a Lord on a fateful night, who finally returned to claim his progeny after years of absence. It was like a line from a story, a wistful wish of village ladies that sought an escape from the horrific mundanity of their lives.


    Only, it had came true, for their mother Asale. Lords and ladies often had dalliances with commoners, but most of them were forgotten. Their partners and children abandoned.


    Your father¡¯s different. Trust me Vale, you¡¯ll see.


    How na?ve you were mother.


    How she wished she could go back to this moment in the past, grab her family and run for the hills, as far away as possible. But even if she had, she doubted such a scarce effort could escape the clutches of the Deathbringer.


    The door to the carriage opened, and a face emerged. Wiry dark black hair that fell to his shoulders. His cloak sported voluminous black fur which sprouted from the shoulders in waves. It had the effect of broadening her father¡¯s frame, and granting him an unnecessary gravitas.


    Unnecessary, because his presence was felt in every other conceivable way. Dull black, lifeless eyes devoid of emotion accompanied his empty smile. His aura of death touched the grass on which he walked, sapping them of all life. Flowers wilted in a moment, accompanied by the corpses of the bees and butterflies that flitted between them. Falling to their final rest, cold.


    Dead.


    No, I can¡¯t do this. I¡¯m sorry. I need to leave, GET ME OUT OF HE-


    ---


    Vale shot up from her bed with a scream. Her chest heaved, sweat coating her face. Caledon yawned and rose groggily from his position.


    Shiver was awake in her bed, a pensive expression on her face. Then, her gaze found Vale, and she greeted her with a smile. This one, less crazed than her usual grins, Vale didn¡¯t think it possible.


    "So, how was your very first nightmare. The joys of being a Fearshaper, huh?"


    Vale avoided her eyes and clutched anxiously at her hands. They shook no matter how hard she tried to still them, betraying her Fear.


    "I, I couldn¡¯t do it. My nightmare ended before I could get any further then the very beginning. How many times am I going to have to play over the same nightmares before I manage acknowledgement."


    Vale sighed, her shoulders slumping. Tearing apart the wounds of the past was not something one did on a whim, even if it was the road to the power she needed to kill her father. To her surprise, Shiver nodded with silent understanding. Then Vale yelped as the girl roughly ruffled her hair.


    "H-hey! Cut it out, crazy orphan."


    "In my very first nightmare, ice shades tried to murder me. I got caught up fighting with them, and I didn¡¯t progress further into my dream. I had it when I was knocked out, as we rode from Brimstone."


    Vale let out a small laugh, the tension broken. Reassured by Shiver¡¯s moment of vulnerability.


    "I¡­ I saw my family. The day my father came to take us to Soulhaven. But I didn¡¯t have it in me to continue progressing."


    Shiver sat next to her, with understanding in her eyes.


    Caledon rose with a yawn and strode towards them. He hesitated, as if reluctant to share his experience.


    "I also dreamt of my family. But there didn¡¯t appear to be anything amiss? I just had a pleasant dream in Brimstone Manor."


    Shiver smiled sweetly at him, and watched in satisfaction as Caledon blanched.


    "Is that so, Lord Brimstone? Not haunted by nightmares of the innocents your family is responsible for murdering? What a Feardamned shame. Say the word, and I''ll remind you whenever you would like."


    Caledon gulped. Vale lightly slapped Shiver¡¯s hand.


    "Oh hush you. Caledon, that is curious. Icey, Lord Quietus, any thoughts?"


    The two guides sat silently.


    "Unfortunately not, young Fearshaper. It may be a form of a repressed Fear ¨C the most challenging of Fears to acknowledge. Not everyone¡¯s path through Anhedonia is of equal difficulty. Did your guide reveal itself to you?"


    Caledon shook his head with another yawn.


    "Perhaps it has good taste. I wouldn¡¯t associate with murderers either."


    Caledon¡¯s eyebrow twitched at the irony of Shiver¡¯s words.


    "Coming from the one who drove a dagger into-"


    "Enough! You two!"


    Vale¡¯s sudden exclamation made the pair pause. She looked pleadingly at Caledon, shaking her head ever so slightly, dissuading him from provoking Shiver. Caledon¡¯s eyes glided down to Shiver¡¯s hands, finally noticing the gleaming daggers of ice that matched the girl¡¯s cold smile.


    "In any case¡­ perhaps this academy will hold the answers to your questions. What do you say we do some exploring. We¡¯ve dallied long enough!"


    The trio and their guides turned their heads to Pevir, who had donned his bucket hat once again, revitalised and brimming with energy. His eyes were alight with his passion for discovery, matching the sheen of sweat on his forehead. His enthusiasm began to infect each of them.


    Vale nodded in relief, shooting a stern look at Shiver. The girl begrudgingly released her daggers, and they disappeared into motes of ice.


    They had an academy of Fear to explore.

 Chapter 25: Rooms of Descension

    "So popsicle, you seem exceptionally knowledgeable. How is that so? You¡¯re just very well read?"


    Icey shifted nervously on Shiver¡¯s shoulder. They had left the medical bay behind and walked the sweeping halls of the academy. The courtyard they walked through lay behind huge white pillars and sported a large open space that would have allowed budding Fearshapers plenty of room to socialise and lounge.


    "This Academy seems¡­ familiar to me for some reason¡­ and I have an instinctual understanding of Fearshaping. Knowledge of Anhedonia comes to me easily¡­ even as the stages beyond are clouded."


    "I certainly don¡¯t share your familiarity for this academy, little ice cube. But perhaps, more of your memories will return to you the further Shiver delves into her Fear. As you must know, the further-"


    "The further our Fearshapers delve into the depths of their Fears, the more of ourselves we will recover and embody! That¡¯s right Quietus!"


    "That is ¡°Lord¡± Quietus to you girl! And gravecities below, how many times will you interrupt me!"


    "S-sorry!"


    Where did you begin in your exploration of a lost academy?


    Pevir had declared its library to be first place to visit. Now, they wandered in search of it. Caledon watched as Vale¡¯s eyes lingered on a small, golden ¡°sun¡± that hung above the courtyard, bathing it in gentle golden light. It was like a miniature version of the vast orbs of silver that hung over Anhedonia.


    "Is something on your mind, Vale?"


    Caledon fell in step with her. She had been quietly trailing behind Shiver and Icey.


    "How did your nightmare feel to you, Caledon? I dreaded the thought of reliving my past."


    Caledon hesitated as he thought back to his nightmare.


    "It just felt¡­ like an ordinary day with my family. Nothing really happened in my nightmare."


    "Strange¡­ Perhaps the intensity of our nightmares vary."


    Vale shot Caledon a forced smile which failed to reach her eyes.


    "Forgive me¡­ but I¡¯ve been curious. Do you have a Fear of fire, like your father?"


    Vale gestured to Shiver, and the daggers that she idly twirled in her hands, dismissing and recalling them with practiced ease. Their blades of ice flashed in the warm golden light that reached them from beyond the vast white pillars that lined the boundary of the courtyard.


    "As you can see¡­ our Fears are pretty self-evident."


    Vale¡¯s Phobia manifested in her hand, a scepter formed of arched bone in the shape of a forearm.


    "A Fear of fire is Brimstone¡¯s signature. But something that the Matchmaker told me was strange¡­ I think there¡¯s something more to my Fear¡­"


    "Oh? Is that so?"


    "I¡¯ve always thought I¡¯ve had a Fear of the hearth, of comfort."


    Caledon caught himself as he realised that he had been unusually forthcoming with the girl. It was unsurprising perhaps, that Vale in comparison to Shiver, put him at ease. She was a welcome reprieve, a touch of normalcy in this academy of Fear¡­


    If you were to overlook the nature of her lineage, and her status as a daughter of the Deathbringer, that was.


    Vale winced as she recalled the dapper spider that had bonded them to their guides, and the regal crypt he had placed her within, the towering graves that surrounded her that had been carved with such care to put Soulhaven¡¯s crypts to shame.


    "But¡­ a Fear of comfort? How would it be possible to trigger such a Fear?"


    Caledon grimaced. He¡¯d certainly given it plenty of thought over the years. Trying desperately to decipher to shape of his Fear.


    "That¡¯s just it, I¡¯m not very sure. I can¡¯t even really recall the precise day my Fear awakened. As for the symptoms¡­"


    Vale shook her head lightly, as if reassuring him that he needn¡¯t continue if he didn¡¯t see fit. He appreciated the small gesture of kindness.


    "It twists my experience of reality. When I am most at ease, my Fear rears its ugly head to reveal that what I had experienced had been a lie."


    Vale¡¯s eyes widened.


    "I¡¯m so sorry, Caledon. That sounds dreadful."


    He let out a small laugh.


    "I try to make a game of it. Trying to pick out when my Fear is tricking me. Though it can get tiring sometimes."


    Vale smiled, and he felt his heart flutter for a brief second.


    What is this academy doing to my head.


    "Perhaps we¡¯ll find something in this place that will shed some light on it. What good would an academy of Fearshaping be if it didn¡¯t!"


    Caledon smiled, nodding in agreement. This place could hold the answers to his Fear. His first ¡°nightmare¡± certainly hadn¡¯t granted him any new insights. Caledon hesitated as he glanced ahead at Shiver.


    "Do you think¡­ Shiver¡¯s comfortable with me tagging along?"


    Vale smiled, but Caledon saw straight through her meagre attempt at reassurance. Then she relented, and her lips broke into a grimace, a shapely eyebrow twitching.


    "To be honest, I still think she has half a mind to put a dagger into you. Yet despite how she acts¡­ she knows that you aren¡¯t responsible for your father¡¯s actions. That¡¯s probably the only reason you¡¯re still alive and kicking. You truly had no idea? About¡­"


    "None. My father didn''t tell me a great deal about the¡­ execution of those people."


    "Marta, Pov and Blaze."


    Caledon¡¯s eyes widened as Vale¡¯s gaze hardened.


    "Those were the names of Shiver¡¯s¡­ family. Take care that you remember them."


    "I¡¯m sorry."


    They walked onwards, tension radiating in the air between them. Vale hesitated, then let out an audible sigh. She raised her hand to lightly touch Caledon¡¯s forearm, stopping him in his tracks and lowering her voice.


    "Shiver intends to avenge them. To kill your father, you do know that?"


    Caledon flexed his hand across his new torch, the Phobia that had manifested when he awakened as a Fearshaper. Some Fearshaper he was ¨C he barely knew the true nature of his Fear, let alone what use it would be.


    "My father was a kind man. A just leader. He didn¡¯t turn a blind eye to the misfortune of those ¡°below¡± him, in the lower circles. The man that you describe¡­ he is not the man that I know. The more that I learn, the less that I feel I understand."


    Caledon met Vale¡¯s eyes.


    "Triol¡­ Your brother. He mentioned that Brimstone was an ally of House Revenant."


    Vale met his gaze, her confusion on full display. Caledon just shook his head.


    "It went against everything I understood. We were raised being told that our House exterminated the Revenants for their role in the Rampage of Undeath. For slaughtering countless elves in a wave of undead that enveloped the land. Ahem¡­ I mean no offense, of course. For your brother to call our house an ally?"


    Caledon looked to his feet, his hands tight around his torch.


    "He even showed me a dagger made by my master, Sakar. Perhaps my father was not the man that I knew after all. The least I can do is promise that¡­ if I discover that my father truly killed them without reason-"


    Caledon met her gaze unflinchingly.


    "-then perhaps I will be there right alongside her when she confronts him."


    Vale silently returned a curt nod, mollified by his response, it seemed. Caledon let out a sigh, the tension melting from his shoulders. It was a welcome reprieve, expressing the doubts that churned at the depths of his mind.


    The prospect of his father¡­ betraying the Brimstone ideals ¨C no, betraying him¡­ it was a possibility that he feared to confront.


    As Caledon¡¯s gaze rose, he realised that Shiver had been looking at him. He cursed himself, realising that she had likely caught wind of their conversation. Unlike the guardian¡¯s eyes, which were empty and devoid of life, Shiver¡¯s were anything but. They gleamed a bright cerulean bordering on white in the shimmering golden light of the academy as she fixed him with her gaze. Shiver mercifully returned it to the central courtyard before them.


    Dust particles lingered in the air, brought to their attention by the soft golden glow as they strode into the courtyard. They gave the place a liminal and otherworldly feel. Shiver ran her hands through the leaves of a tree before her. They were a pale blue, that glowed as they swayed in the gentle cold wind, similarly cold to the touch.


    Caledon spoke his thoughts unbidden.


    "She¡¯s quite something alright."


    Vale smirked.


    "My word don¡¯t get me started. When I first met her¡­"


    Vale shook her head with a soft laugh.


    "Remind me to tell you about the crabs."


    ---


    Vale stared up at the dome overhead. While from the outside, it appeared to be a solid white, it revealed a sky of stars from within, giving the illusion that they were walking under the night sky. She sensed a distinct theme that pervaded the academy¡¯s architecture.


    "Let¡¯s go."


    Shiver waved them over, breaking her out of her reverie. Strangely, the guardian that they had encountered outside of the academy was nowhere to be seen. Neither were there any other guardians. The academy was deserted of all evidence of life, or otherwise.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    They started towards a massive staircase that led deeper into the academy. Vale frowned as she spotted a strange device next to the staircase.


    "Wait a minute¡­ I recognise this. Shiver, wasn¡¯t this that lift contraption? That recent Brimstone innovation?"


    "Excellent observation Vale. This further confirms it."


    Pevir, who was leading the group in their journey turned around abruptly at the top of the staircase to face them. They halted, waiting for the stout archaeologist to continue. He cleared his throat and clasped his bucket hat to his head.


    "As you know, I¡¯ve regained my memories since that dastardly incident with the nightviper, ahem."


    He glanced self-consciously at the group before him, wiping sweat from the exertion of exploring the academy from his forehead.


    "One might imagine that this Archcity and this academy are centuries old, which may very well be the truth. But I have reason to believe¡­ it was only recently abandoned. It sports technology developed only in recent times. The pulley systems and machinery that emerged in Brimstone for example? They were integrated into other buildings within the Archcity."


    Shiver, who had been attempting to put Icey in her mouth gave her a bit of reprieve to reply.


    "Wouldn¡¯t everyone and their grandmother be searching for an Archcity like this if it was common knowledge?"


    "That¡¯s just it Shiver, I¡¯ve never come across any records of this Archcity or academy. And I noticed something strange."


    Pevir adjusted his bucket cap, and the tenor of his voice changed, as if to invite their curiosity.


    "When I first arrived in the Archcity, I came across the most curious phenomenon. There were omissions in the texts that I read. Blank spaces that appeared on the pages, interspersed between paragraphs. Something that I realised only after I was freed from the nightviper¡¯s influence, was that I slowly started to perceive words that I had not previously."


    They hung onto every one of his words, the mark of an experienced storyteller.


    "When I first attempted to read and decipher the text when it was first revealed to me, I would be struck with the most intense headaches. Blurry vision."


    "Something was influencing my perception."


    Pevir¡¯s voice fell to a whisper, and the group leaned in closer to the stout archaeologist.


    "After spending weeks in the Archcity however, eventually, the words revealed themselves to me. There were a few common themes. Texts discussing Anhedonia, the Archcity of Fear, or on the subject of Fearshaping. Many of them referred to it as the youngest Archcity, which was a mystery in and of itself. But no matter-"


    Pevir shook his head, adjusting his glasses. The flash they caused momentarily blinded his audience. As they reeled from it, Pevir interpreted it to be a natural reaction to his brilliance, treating them to a sympathetic smile.


    "I suspect that something was disrupting my ability to perceive those words. Something capable of deciphering meaning¡­ and censoring it. A tremendous feat and undeniably concerning if true. I must further explore this phenomenon."


    Icey excitedly rushed before them, circling them.


    "When we first met, you believed Fearshaping was limited to the nobility, didn¡¯t you? Perhaps this could be related to Pevir¡¯s experience!"


    Pevir interjected.


    "Hardly Icey! The fact that Fearshaping is the domain of the nobility has been long established. Why¡­ why¡­ That¡¯s just common knowledge!"


    "Then how is it that Shiver awakened as a Fearshaper?"


    Vale smirked.


    "Perhaps she was of noble birth all along. Hey, Shiver¡­ what are you, ahh get away from me!"


    Shiver made to chase after Vale, but quickly relented. She stuck her tongue out at her.


    "Fearshaping is the right of all elves that have triggered a Fear. I find it fascinating that the prevailing view on the matter has changed so drastically. There seems to be a collective shift in understanding."


    "Fearshaping¡­ available to everyone? If such a view took root, there would be rioting in the streets! The nobility derive their legitimacy from their power, after all."


    Pevir exclaimed, waving his hands animatedly. Then he halted, as if suddenly comprehending the implications. How much sense it made, for the nobility to perpetuate a lie. To consolidate their power, by treating Fearshaping as a power eligible only to the worthy.


    "An Archcity, erased from memory. Lies surrounding the true nature of Fearshaping and the censoring of texts discussing it. Whatever it is, we have more questions than answers. Perhaps this academy holds some of them."


    Their anticipation grew as they ascended the stairs, arriving at a corridor cloaked in darkness. There was something eerie about the silence here. The cold wind that blew in the courtyard didn¡¯t reach these halls. They tensed, but nothing emerged from the darkness before them.


    Shiver motioned to the others to follow her.


    Reaching the first door, Shiver could feel her heartbeat heighten at the anticipation.


    Pushing it open, her eyes narrowed.


    The room and its walls were cloaked in pinpricks of light. The theme of the night sky continued. They walked onto a black, reflective floor that refracted the light in ways that strained her perception.


    In the middle of the room were a number of¡­ pods.


    "Are these¡­ the living quarters?"


    Vale looked curiously at the pods. The interior of the pods were cushioned in dark red material. They were unlike any forging of metal that the girl had ever glimpsed. Caledon seemed to be of the same mind, as he ran his fingers gently over the surface of one of the pods in awe.


    "How str- wait, Shiver, Shiver! Get out of there, we don¡¯t know what they¡¯re for!"


    Shiver had promptly hopped straight into one.


    A calm, feminine voice rang out throughout the chamber.


    Fearshaper detected. Reserves at maximum capacity. Initiate nightmare induction?


    "Ooooh."


    "Shiver! Get out of there this instant you crazy orphan."


    "Begin the nightmare induction please."


    Acknowledged. Prepare for nightmare induction.


    Vale internally and externally screamed as she watched the familiar black liquid erupt from the clear black floor to flood into crevices in Shiver¡¯s pod.


    Caledon admired the craftsmanship of the pod and swept his gaze over the others in the room. The skill of the smiths and craftsman that crafted this was truly unparalleled. And to make so many of them.


    "Nightmare induction... Perhaps this machine allows budding Fearshapers to access their nightmares whenever they wish. In Anhedonia, they¡¯re only accessible after periods of time. That changes, the deeper into your Fear you descend."


    These pods seemed to give them the flexibility to enter whenever they wanted. That meant being able to descend through Anhedonia with no limitation.


    Caledon began to stride towards another pod.


    "Caledon! You too? Has everyone taken leave of their senses?"


    "Vale."


    Shiver¡¯s voice echoed from her pod, but it lacked any of her previous mirth. A lattice of black liquid was beginning to form over her pod, locking her in.


    "Remember why we came here."


    Vale let out a long sigh. She wanted anything but to revisit the nightmare again, or to catch another glimpse of her wretched father. Or the tragedies that she would inevitably revisit. She stared at another empty pod.


    But shook her head, glaring at Shiver. If the girl thought she would be able to continue intimidating her into submission with harsh words, she was wrong.


    "Before we go leaping back into the nightmare, we need to get a lay of the land. Find food, water. Ensure we¡¯re safe. Let¡¯s at least find the dormitories. Icey has to stake out the entrance. While we go to dreamland, you¡¯re prepared to leave Pevir high and dry? I thought better of you. You¡¯re lot of things but you¡¯re not selfish, Shiver."


    Shiver watched her calmly. All of them, excellent reasons. Yet Vale knew, that Shiver saw right through her.


    She knows I¡¯m afraid to enter my nightmare.


    "Alright, you have a point this time. Smarty princess."


    She stuck out her tongue at Vale and leapt out of the pod. The liquid that had just begun accruing, abruptly fell back to the floor, receding. The voice echoed again.


    Nightmare induction aborted. Please ensure you remain firmly within the pod for the duration of the startup sequence.


    With great difficulty, they extracted themselves from the pod room and made for the next room.


    Yet another room filled with pods.


    "Just¡­ how many of these are there?"


    As they emerged, they saw rows, upon rows of pod rooms that lined the floor.


    And the floors below them.


    Then, Caledon¡¯s eyes caught onto a sign.


    ---


    "Avalkin¡¯s beard."


    Pevir marvelled at the rooms in the floor above. They were the polar opposite of the uniform pod rooms of the same make that lined the floors below.


    The room in which they stood, was full of life. They were surrounded by every form of plant life imaginable. Soft moss covered the ground and rocks underfoot, with a small stream running through the length of the room.


    Then Caledon entered the room beside them, which differed in every single aspect. This one had been cast from flame, with a waterfall of lava emerging from the far wall. The heat that it emitted even from where Caledon stood at its entrance was significant.


    They continued, endlessly. The next room was encapsulated in a never-ending void of darkness. Not even a glimpse of light was visible, and the light from the exterior failed to penetrate its surface.


    Vale heard Shiver call out to her from further down the hallway.


    "Hey princess there are crabs in here!"


    She fixed her eyes on the label that Caledon had encountered, that had sparked intrigue from its very nature. The implication that it held, hinting towards its purpose.


    Rooms of descension (Anhedonia).


    Caledon hummed as he investigated the room with Pevir.


    "All of these rooms seem to encapsulate a different type of object. Different Fears, perhaps."


    "Good thinking boy! The sheer expense involved with preparing each of these rooms to accommodate a different type of Fear..."


    They watched in unison as Shiver expertly navigated around the crabs, picking a small whitecrab up to inspect it.


    "What purpose do you think they hold? Perhaps a way for Fearshapers to descend further into their Fears?"


    Caledon pondered Pevir¡¯s question. Forget the expense¡­ how was such a thing possible? How were there living crabs in the middle of an abandoned Archcity? Surely there wasn¡¯t someone around to feed them?


    Then his mind returned to Icey¡¯s words in the temple in which they had awakened. What had she said the second component of their descent through Anhedonia was?


    Embracement.


    "Icey¡­ do these rooms have to do with the second step of Anhedonia? Embracing our Fear"


    "They are!"


    Icey circled him expectantly, challenging him to decipher their purpose. Caledon fell deep into thought, muttering. Then it came together as the insight reached him. The sheer range of rooms that vastly differed in their nature. All lined, up at the convenience-


    "That¡¯s it! For newly awakened Fearshapers¡­ Perhaps it was a way to make the objects of their Fear, accessible."


    "What do you mean?"


    Caledon shook his head, trying to piece together his hypothesis.


    "Not everyone has a Fear as straightforward as flame or ice. The object of those Fears are easily accessible. That might not be the case for all of them."


    The same could not be said about his own Fear, unfortunately. Especially of late.


    Perhaps since they had been constantly on edge, running from one threat to the next, his hallucinations hadn¡¯t been triggered. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that being around Shiver kept him constantly at risk of death.


    "A wonderful explanation! ¡®These rooms do make embracement more accessible! Though¡­ they do also serve one another purpose. I¡¯ll keep it a secret, hehehe. Let¡¯s see if you can figure it out!"


    The ice cube circled before him, giggling in glee. Pevir spoke up, as he pulled his head from yet another descension room.


    "Perhaps all of you should find your respective room¡­ if it exists. For when you finish your acknowledgement."


    "Ahem, great suggestion Pevir. Perhaps we will later. Let us continue onwards, we do need to find the dormitories, assuming this so called ¡°academy¡± has some."


    Vale deftly guided the group onwards to the next flight of stairs leading upwards.


    Before long, they came before a grand gate cast in gold. Peering between its bars, all they could see beyond it was darkness. Vale flinched as she walked towards it, as a translucent glowing ward revealed itself, surrounding the exterior of the gate.


    Vale hesitantly placed her palm on the glowing ward. It stung slightly with the buzz of energy as it came into contact with her skin. The ward appeared to bar her from accessing the enticing corridor shrouded in shadow.


    There was a sign on the wall next to the gate, with a single phrase.


    Tempting them, with its mysteries, and everything that it stood for.


    Floors of Trepidation.

 Chapter 26: Restraint

    "Do you really think it was a good idea?"


    I suppose we didn¡¯t have much of a choice. This place is enormous.


    Vale stood together with Pevir in one of the academy¡¯s lifts. This one was headed downwards, towards the basement of the academy. As they had walked its hallways, they hadn¡¯t encountered a single soul or Terror.


    They had agreed to split up, to cover more ground. Vale was squarely of the opinion that it was an idiotic decision, but Shiver had insisted tirelessly. Besides, she had a sneaking suspicion she knew why. Before they separated, Vale made her promise she wouldn¡¯t put a dagger in Caledon.


    Vale let out a silent prayer for the lord, but quickly returned her attention to her own plight, as the lift shook and rattled on its descent. She only hoped to find them both intact when they reunited, and that she would be alive to reunite with them in the first place. Pevir, fortunately, had agreed to join her.


    They would regroup in front of the golden gates leading to the Floors of Trepidation after completing their search.


    A library, to give us clues about this Academy. Or anything really, to shed some light on why the Archcity and the academy were abandoned. Oh¡­ and the living quarters, of course. I¡¯d prefer not to sleep on the cold academy floor.


    "Did we really have to come down here¡­ of all the places we could go¡­"


    "Ah young Vale, it is always good to be cautious. But you must muster your bravery to face your fears if you are to progress as a Fearshaper. Your Fear of death being the most important, but the bravery to face your others will only elevate your descent."


    Vale rolled her eyes at Quietus¡¯ familiar refrain. Her guide, the little wishbone perched on her shoulder had initially repulsed her. He was a physical reminder of her Fear of death, and understandably, she had been taken aback.


    But¡­ he was also fun to tease.


    "How did your other students ever last hmm? Did you keep them awake with the threat of lengthy lectures?"


    Vale giggle joined Pevir¡¯s chuckle as Quietus grumbled.


    They felt silent once more, listening to the rhythmic shaking of the lift as it continued in its descent. Anticipation built, as the lift doors parted, revealing a long, dark corridor before them. Pevir¡¯s eyes were alight with curiosity, and Vale questioned how the man wasn¡¯t terrified of the prospect of confronting the unknown.


    The lift doors creaked to a close behind them, and she returned her attention to what lay before them.


    The light orbs that lined the upper corridors of the academy painted them in a gentle, golden light that put Vale at ease. The academy¡¯s courtyard had practically been serene, she could have lounged there at ease for hours.


    The lights down here? They flickered, as if disrupted or faulty. Briefly introducing light into the corridor before them, before the darkness returned to reclaim its dominance.


    Vale continued forward, slowly, she came to an abrupt stop as she turned the corner. Her heart began to race, and she felt adrenaline spear through her veins in an instant.


    The dead.


    Countless skeletons lined the corridor. Garbed in pale, grey academy robes, their bodies bore only ivory, leaving behind their deathly visage.


    The hunched skull of one of the skeletons turned, staring at her. Vale scrambled backwards, stumbling and falling to the ground. As her gaze returned to it, she saw that the skeleton¡¯s head had returned to its normal position.


    She had never encountered hallucinations like that before.


    "Vale! Are you alright?"


    "I-I¡­ this is a hallucination, right Lord Quietus? It¡¯s my Fear playing up? Right Pevir?"


    Her heartbeat continued to heighten. Quietus and Pevir¡¯s words in her ear grew garbled, as the edges of her vision tinged red.


    No Vale, they¡¯re dead, they can¡¯t hurt you. Snap out of it.


    Vale clenched her fists, the pain of her nails digging into her palms dragging her out of her stupor. She let out a long breath that she had been unconsciously holding in, Pevir helping her to her feet.


    "I believe it is, Vale. What did you see? Is everything alright?"


    "I¡¯m ok. My Fear just got to me for a second."


    Her voice fell, as she scanned the corridor before her. Filled with death, trying desperately to hold her burgeoning Fear at bay, as she stood in the midst of its object.


    "What in Insanity happened down here?"


    Pevir¡¯s voice shook as he took in the scene around him.


    "I haven¡¯t the slightest clue, but notice¡­. Where they were headed."


    At Pevir¡¯s words, she felt a chill run down her spine.


    They were all headed in the direction of the lift, where she had emerged from. Running from¡­ something. One of the skeletons had fallen, its arm outstretched in her very direction.


    "We should go. Whatever caused this¡­ could it still be down here?"


    Silence filled the space around them. Pevir shook his head with confidence.


    "My bet is that it¡¯s likely long gone. Look at the floor. This place has not been disturbed in a long time."


    He pointed towards the thick layer of dust that caked the floor of the tunnel, undisturbed. His eyes were alight with curiosity. A weak assumption, but the promise of mysteries to be unravelled drove him forwards, curiosity shining from his eyes. Ignoring the threats that lay behind his weak justification.


    Vale stumbled, as she forced her legs to follow suit.


    As they rounded the corner, Vale drew in a sharp breath at the scene that emerged.


    A gigantic ward, that covered vast doors wrought from darksteel. The doors were at least four times her height, and were built to ensure that whatever was kept inside them remained locked away.


    There was only one, small problem. The doors had been ripped through, and a ward flickered weakly, above the door¡¯s exterior. Similar to the ward that covered the golden gates leading to the Floors of Trepidation.


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    What had done this?


    Then, her eyes glimpsed a sign, much like the one they had encountered in the academy above.


    Floors of Dread.


    Vale took a step back.


    "Whatever was in there¡­ it looks to have gotten out."


    Vale¡¯s eyes lingered on the darkness she could glimpse between the scars that covered the enormous darksteel doors. She turned to Pevir.


    "We should tell the others."


    ---


    Caledon¡¯s footsteps echoed as he entered the strangest hall he had ever laid eyes on.


    He wouldn¡¯t attest to being an expert or connoisseur in the types of halls that grand academies or castles were equipped with. After all, had grown up mostly exposed to Brimstone Manor.


    The Manor itself did not lack for charm, It was homely, a space where his family could congregate and relax in its warm embrace.


    His very best memories were when his father¡¯s guide Sale, the Eternal Phoenix had still been with them. Filling the air with her gentle warmth. He suspected that a big reason why Viveria was so carefree and reckless, was due to the Phoenix¡¯s abilities. In her adolescence the girl had been shielded from the consequences of her reckless feats, any injuries from her fights or antics fading away.


    Just being in Sale¡¯s presence healed mundane wounds. Her song was even capable of dispelling the haunting thoughts that sometimes latched themselves into you, threatening to drag you down into the abyss with them.


    Then she had disappeared. Never to return again.


    Caledon shook his head, dispelling the uncomfortable memories.


    He walked out into the center of the hall and gazed up at a ceiling of stars impossibly high above him. The room was shaped like an inverted cone, with galleries at each level, expanding outwards from the floor beneath them.


    Above him, emerging from the very center of the ceiling above them was an immaculate statue depicting a beautiful elf, her hand extending downwards towards the floor. Wings of crystal extended outwards behind her, and a glowing orb of gold was clasped in her hand.


    The light that it emitted was gentle ¨C but it illuminated the vast room before them, as well as each tier of floor.


    "Please, Shiver. I know my father. What you claim that he did¡­ I can¡¯t see the sense in it."


    Her cerulean eyes flashed, and she rounded on him in the center of the floor.


    "Blaze¡­ Her only crime was stealing from a lord. A handful of coins and some bad chocolate. Marta and Pov¡¯s only crime was having the naivety to care for a bunch of useless orphans. I¡¯ll tell you what your father did. He set Marta and Pov¡¯s home on fire. Their bodies and the very stone of their home was built from charred black by Brimstone flame. Pov¡¯s limbs hacked off. Their faces free of all harm, as if to mock me. There was no doubt as to their identity. That father of yours stood over their bodies. Before a pair of wings emerged from his back, and he took off into the sky, like a Feardamned phoenix."


    Acid dripped from Shiver¡¯s voice, and the girl that stood at least two heads shorter than him strode forwards fearlessly, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt.


    "Tell me lordling, how many people are capable of setting stone itself alight. Think I was mistaken?"


    Caledon held up his hands in surrender, frowning in concentration.


    "Wait, wait. I¡¯m not here to question what you saw. My father told me that Blaze had stolen a package that Semille was carrying. Could it be¡­"


    His eyes widened at the possibility as the disparate pieces of the puzzle floated together.


    "Shiver¡­ you became a Fearshaper before we entered that temple¡­ How?"


    She relinquished his shirt.


    "That Lord Semille sent some thugs after me. They shot me with a crossbow. While I was bleeding out, I ate¡­"


    Her eyes widened.


    "You can¡¯t be saying¡­ Surely it can¡¯t be. That sorry excuse for a chocolate ball?"


    Caledon nodded. It was the only logical explanation, unless there was some other factor in play. Some other cargo, that had evaded Shiver, Blaze and Lord Semille¡¯s notice - a negligible possibility.


    "That ¡°chocolate¡± that you ate. Somehow it made you a Fearshaper, just the same as that temple we entered. You didn¡¯t think to put it together?"


    He flinched as the girl¡¯s gaze sharpend into a glare.


    "I was bleeding out on a frozen lake, you¡¯ll forgive me if I wasn¡¯t able to indulge in idle curiosity, my lord. I thought it had to do with being on the brink of death, I didn¡¯t link it to the chocolate."


    In that case, the package from House Flora being sent to my father was¡­ something that was capable of awakening elves to Fearshaping.


    But why? The trail went cold, as soon as one mystery was answered. Caledon was sure the hints lay around him, but he struggled to put them together.


    Shiver stalked further into the hall. She began to ascend the stairs to the first gallery above them. She looked down at him, her eyes were devoid of warmth.


    "Unless he proves otherwise, your father is a dead man. Careful that you don¡¯t join him."


    Caledon just nodded. Shiver reluctantly dispelled her Phobia, the twin daggers of ice.


    "You know, I had half a mind to kill you too. Your father so easily betrayed his people. What¡¯s to stop you from doing the same to us? You helped us, yes. But I¡¯ve known plenty of ¡°friends¡± that would stab me in the gut if it meant they would get a shot of Tranquility."


    She fixed him with another gare. He had the uncanny feeling that a lot of them would be directed at him in the immediate future.


    "Take so much as a step out of line, and I¡¯ll send you to the dream ahead of daddy dearest."


    Caledon let Shiver¡¯s words wash over him, as he watched her stride away. They were filled with hate, but hatred was not born in a vacuum.


    I wonder, if anyone killed someone I love¡­ would I be able to have as much restraint as her? For all that she acts like she might slit my throat at any moment¡­ she doesn¡¯t.


    Shiver¡¯s steps echoed into the distance.


    Caledon¡¯s idle thoughts were punctuated by a painting that dominated the first floor, one he had overlooked while drawn into their exchange. It depicted an elf, gazing into a mirror. His surroundings were cloaked in darkness, and a single orb of light illuminated the scene.


    It was an ordinary, mundane painting but for one simple detail.


    His reflection returned a smile that was absent on his own face.


    Caledon struggled to decipher the meaning underpinning the work and glimpsed its title.


    Anhedonia.


    ---


    Sometime later, they reunited in front of the golden gates. Shiver walked up to Vale, who was huddled on the steps before them.


    Pevir had informed them of what they had found in the academy¡¯s basement. The dead students and the flickering ward over the Floors of Dread that had been torn open by something that it contained. The archaeologist was convinced that whatever had escaped was long gone, seeing as the dust in the basement had been undisturbed. It was of scant comfort, but they quickly accepted that whatever it was, none of them would pose a threat to it.


    It did not change their goal.


    The soft golden light of the orbs above made Vale¡¯s wavy blonde hair shine, which only served to draw his attention to her pallid expression. Her skin was pale and clammy from her sweat. She chewed on her lip with barely concealed anxiety. In her obsessiveness, her skin threatened to part, but Vale was uncaring.


    Shiver sat beside her and took her hand in her own firmly. Vale jumped, as if only just noticing their approach.


    Shiver knew, better than anyone, how Fears could be a source of insidious torment, gradually wearing away at an elf¡¯s sanity. She was all too familiar with it, and she recognised it when she saw it. Moreover, this was before elves became Fearshapers, like they had. She spoke to Vale softly.


    "Are you alright?"


    Vale gave her a shaky smile with wide eyes and nodded her head.


    "I¡¯m fine, it¡¯s just¡­ There¡¯s just a lot of death down there. It hit me pretty hard."


    Shiver nodded, lightly helping her to her feet. Ordinarily, Vale would have been embarrassed at the sudden attention she attracted, but she was too tired to care.


    Pevir cleared his throat as he walked forward.


    "It seems like the basement houses the academy¡¯s library. Perhaps we should monitor the area before exploring further."


    Vale nodded her head lightly in agreement, her gaze downcast. Shiver poked at Vale¡¯s nose, causing her to recoil and sneeze.


    "Shiver!"


    "On the bright side princess, we¡¯ve found the dormitories on another floor while you were off exploring."


    Her eyes sparkled.


    "You¡¯re going to love them."

 Chapter 27: Nightmare Pods

    "Quite an improvement from your cave, wouldn¡¯t you say?"


    "Meh."


    Vale gaped, as she was dragged into the student dormitories by Shiver. Each gallery in the grand hall that Caledon and Shiver had found had led to a vast array of living quarters. Fearshapers in Anhdonia occupied the living quarters of the bottom floor. The rooms to the upper floors were blocked by similar wards, made inaccessible to Fearshapers that had yet to reach those stages.


    Caledon admired the workmanship of the room. Light orbs emitting bright golden light illuminated the room, and bounced off the chestnut brown furniture.


    Students¡¯ belongings were strewn about the room, there was no sign of the massacre that had taken place downstairs.


    Shiver kept a hold of Vale¡¯s hand, and pulled her along, up a curved staircase.


    "We found plenty of food, still preserved, so we won¡¯t be eating Icey. Oh sorry - Popsicle."


    "Shiver! I¡¯m not food!"


    Shiver threw upon the doors which led into a long hallway. Students lived together in pairs, each were quite spacious.


    "We found other dormitories just like this one with more of a shared living configuration. But these seemed to be the most comfortable, and furthest away from¡­"


    Shiver shot Caledon a look, stopping him in his tracks. He gave her a discrete nod, and tapped Pevir by the arm.


    "We can stay together here. Pevir and Caledon can stay right opposite us. Nothing¡¯s going to get past us."


    Shiver beamed, dragging Vale into their new room. It had been unoccupied, and featured two beds, a sofa and some other amenities.


    "Out you two. Shoo."


    "Wait bu-"


    Shiver slammed the door in Pevir and Caledon¡¯s face. Vale stared at the girl in worry.


    "Shiver¡­ shouldn¡¯t we be hurrying to descend, and to get out of here? We don¡¯t know how long it will be before my brother and Semille get here."


    "Don¡¯t worry about them, I have a plan to deal with them when they do."


    She cackled maniacally, mumbling something under her breath.


    "If it ain¡¯t broke don¡¯t fix it hehehe."


    Vale just stared at her in confusion. Then Shiver returned to normalcy, sending a grin her way.


    "Besides, they won¡¯t be able to hurt us! We¡¯ve spent hours exploring this place, we should get more rest. You can feel the dream calling to you again, can¡¯t you?"


    "But if my father sends him assistance¡­ Not even the guardian would be able to protect us."


    Shiver cheerily started stripping.


    "S-Shiver!"


    "Well in that case, we¡¯d be Feardamned anyway. We might as well be caught while we¡¯re clean and comfortable. Get comfy, we¡¯re going to feast in a bit. I¡¯m starving."


    Shiver skipped to the bathroom, shutting the door close. Vale slowly sank into a couch in the centre of the room.


    "Please make sure she doesn¡¯t eat me Vale."


    Vale smiled weakly. Her heartbeat had returned to normal, and Shiver¡¯s antics had been a welcome distraction. Even if she wasn¡¯t totally safe, she wasn¡¯t alone.


    "No promises, Popsicle."


    ---


    Caledon and Pevir sighed in concert as Shiver slammed the door in their faces.


    "We¡¯d better get to work."


    Caledon and Pevir headed down the hallway, stopping before the door located furthest into the corridor. Opening it, Pevir paled at the sheer amount of bodies they had piled into the room.


    "Let¡¯s begin getting rid of them. They must have tried escaping to the dormitories."


    "Quite unsuccessfully."


    Pevir winced, as Caledon motioned to the first body.


    "Shiver¡­ She¡¯s surprisingly thoughtful, don¡¯t you think."


    Pevir nodded at Caledon¡¯s remark.


    "Clearing away the dead so that Vale doesn¡¯t catch a glimpse of them. I wouldn¡¯t have expected it of her either. Though¡­ she could have given us a hand."


    Pevir¡¯s face fell, as he thought of the corridor littered with bodies, and the library situated in the basement. To his disappointment, at a glance, many of the books inside had been defiled ¨C burnt or torn to piesces, but some did remain.


    He could barely contain his excitement at the prospect of unravelling the mysteries around this academy, and the Archcity of Fear. He itched, to return there.


    "It¡¯s no surprise her Fear was triggered. This academy is full of death. I wonder if we¡¯ll be able to discover what happened here."


    Caledon winced at the thought of what could have caused all of this destruction. Especially in the presence of the guardian.


    "Perhaps it would be better if we didn¡¯t."


    ---


    Vale lay awake on her bed, listening to Shiver¡¯s rhythmic snoring. Her eyelids threatened to drop, from the fatigue of the day. They called a stop to the exploring after finding the dormitories and sharing a meal together.


    She refused to fall back into the nightmare. Once sleep took her, she would return right back to that dreaded dream. She recalled Lord Quietus¡¯ words, that the first descent into her Fear, towards becoming a Fearshaper was confronting the object of her dread. But she couldn¡¯t bear to revisit those memories.


    How does Shiver do it?


    Vale turned on her side to stare at the girl sleeping opposite her. The very same crazy orphan with more than a few screws loose who had still found room to afford her kindness. It wasn¡¯t lost on her that Shiver had noticed her reaction to the dead in the academy¡¯s basement, and had put off her intense drive to hop into one of those strange pods and dive headfirst into her Fearshaping journey.


    Shiver¡¯s body rose and fell rhythmically, Icey, silent on the bed beside her. Flicking her gaze to Shiver¡¯s face, she started, noticing that her eyes were open.


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    "Can¡¯t sleep?"


    Vale jumped, letting out a yelp. She averted her eyes.


    "Won¡¯t sleep? Gotcha."


    Shiver let out a loud yawn, and sat upright in her bed.


    "Whoever designed this system must have been more twisted than Avalkin¡¯s nuts."


    Vale choked at the girl¡¯s elegant choice of words.


    "But I¡¯m sure that you¡¯ve had dreams just as bad, or worse, even before you became a Fearshaper. The only difference is-"


    Shiver manifested one of her twin ice daggers in her palm, gazing into its surface, her face drawn into a complicated expression.


    "We get something out of it this time."


    Silence fell between the pair. Vale let out a big sigh.


    "I wish I had your courage, I really don¡¯t know how you do it. You¡¯re Insane, you do know that?"


    Shiver raised an eyebrow.


    "I don¡¯t know princess, you seem plenty Insane enough to me."


    Vale huffed in doubt, raising an eyebrow.


    "Surely not. I¡¯m perfectly ordinary."


    "How many perfectly ordinary people would flee from the Deathbringer in search of a fictional Archcity with the aim of gaining the power required to kill him?"


    Shiver tapped her temple as if reminiscing.


    "Not to mention absconding with an attempted murderer from Brimstone, and the greatest of all-"


    Shiver smirked with a glint in her eye.


    "Facing Princess Penelope and her knight Richard and living to tell the tale. Legends that shake the crab world with their footsteps. If that isn¡¯t the mark of Insanity, I don¡¯t know what is."


    "You recall I didn¡¯t have much of a choice in fighting crabs."


    "And yet here you sit."


    The two smirked at one another, recalling their prior antics. They seemed so long ago, a world away from where they were now. Vale gathered up whatever little courage that remained.


    "Alright, you¡¯ve got me. I guess it¡¯s time to go confront my Fear again. I hope this is worth it, or there¡¯ll be hell to pay."


    "That¡¯s more like it princess, sweet dreams."


    Shiver stared up towards the roof of the dormitory as sleep finally took Vale. She turned away from her friend, and when she was sure that she was deep in the nightmare, she finally brushed at her eyes as her heart continued to ache.


    Elves spent their lives running from their Fears, unaware at how trivial they were in the face of other challenges. Her Fear of ice? The hallucinations and angst it brought forth?


    They were nothing, eclipsed by what now haunted her. While there were ways to run from your Fear, avoiding it, or even by confronting it, and descending as a Fearshaper¡­


    There was nowhere to run from grief.


    ---


    Vale opened her eyes, to reveal a familiar throne room. She felt goosebumps erupt on her arms as she took in the scene before her.


    The day she met her new family.


    Her father, Vetrian Revenant sat on his throne. Not one of bone, or anything so dramatic. It was the same lifeless dark grey stone that comprised Soulhaven.


    Beside him stood her new siblings.


    Safnir. The eldest son, Vetrian¡¯s right hand man.


    He was often away from the castle doing their father¡¯s bidding. He was a Fearshaper well into his descent, and even the ignorant, young Vale could tell. He stood tall and limber, and dark mist peeled off of black irises that stood starkly against the blinding whites of his eyes.


    Even before her Fear of death had been triggered, those pinpricks of darkness threatened to pull her in and smother her, carrying a silent promise to leave her amongst the the dead he had undoubtedly left behind. Of all her siblings, Safnir was the closest in nature ¨C both in Fearshaping and personality ¨C to her father.


    Savagery and Somnolence. Twin girls, from Vetrian¡¯s second wife. When she had first heard their names, she had laughed. It had been insensitive, but she had been giddy and overconfident with her father¡¯s newfound attention. What mother would curse their children with names like that?


    Vale had quickly realised that Vetrian¡¯s second wife had been far more insightful than she was herself. Perhaps it was the clarity of hindsight, but Savagery barely concealed a rage that burned behind her stare, as she locked eyes with the new arrivals. More competition, for the Highlord¡¯s attention. Somnolence just stared ahead, with empty eyes, devoid of pleasure or life.


    If only she had been wiser, to question what had turned his children into the monsters that they had become. Instead, she preened at the attention, the newest addition to the family.


    For if she had, perhaps, however unlikely, she would have been able to avert their accursed fate.


    No. I can¡¯t continue. I¡¯m sorry Shiver.


    ---


    Vale¡¯s eyes snapped open, her chest heavy with her reluctance to confront the past. A wishbone stood upright on the bed beside her, inclined in her direction.


    "You¡¯ve made good progress Vale. Your resilience must be acknowledged, for it is difficult for all elves to confront the inception of their Fear."


    Vale shook her head, manifesting a scepter of ivory in her hand. She barely repressed the urge to throw it across the room.


    "I can¡¯t do it. I can¡¯t see it to the end. I¡¯m progressing at a snail¡¯s pace."


    A wild Shiver appeared, barrelling into her.


    "Good morning! Rise and shine! I¡¯ve got just the solution to your problem."


    With some difficulty, Shiver grabbed Vale around her waist, and hoisted her onto her shoulder.


    "My, you¡¯ve been eating well, haven¡¯t you."


    "Shiver! Let me down this instant! What do you think you¡¯re doing!"


    Shiver kicked open the door to her room, ignoring Vale¡¯s flailing arms and legs.


    Pevir and Caledon emerged from their own room. Where Pevir showed signs of recovering from the nightviper, with a newfound spring in his step, the same couldn¡¯t be said for Caledon.


    The dark circles under his eyes had only deepened, and he let out a long yawn.


    Vale frowned.


    Was he avoiding his nightmare too?


    "Let go of me!"


    "Nope! You were frustrated about progressing at a snail¡¯s pace, weren¡¯t you?"


    Vale dreaded to reply, and Shiver¡¯s intention slowly dawned on her.


    "Don¡¯t you dare! I need to rest and recover, I don¡¯t want to go back into the nightmare, please!"


    In reply, Shiver broke out into a jog towards the elevator, hoisting the girl as casually as she had hoisted Richard to his demise and eventual fate on Marta¡¯s dining table. The parallel applied here, equally.


    "Don¡¯t you worry, I¡¯ve found just the comfy place to let you really rest and relax in."


    ---


    "Get me out of this damned pod Shiver! I swear, I will shove Icey so far up your mmffmf-"


    Shiver just grinned as Icey fled from her shoulder with a scream. She covered Vale¡¯s mouth as she pushed her into one of the pods they had found earlier.


    "I¡¯m so proud of you. You¡¯ve gotten so much more vulgar, and we haven¡¯t even been friends for very long!"


    Vale spat as she shook off Shiver¡¯s hand momentarily.


    "Friends? The audacity! I¡¯ll-"


    Shiver finally succeeded in pushing her into the pod. The serene voice spoke once more.


    Fearshaper detected. Reserves at maximum capacity. Initiate nightmare induction?


    "Please and thank you."


    Acknowledged. Prepare for nightmare induction.


    "Shiver, I¡¯ll kill you!"


    "We really shouldn¡¯t make a habit of this princess, it isn¡¯t very healthy for our friendship."


    Pevir and Caledon watched in a daze as the black liquid emerged from the ground to race towards Vale¡¯s pod. It covered the opening in a lattice, eventually sealing her within.


    Shiver turned to them with a smile, that made both men pale.


    "You know, I think I figured out the purpose of these pods."


    She walked around Vale¡¯s pod, rapping it gently with her knuckles.


    "Most of us aren''t Insane enough to confront our Fears headfirst¡­ After all, who would want to delve into a traumatic nightmare to revisit the moment when their Fear was first triggered?"


    She smirked, rapping her knuckles on Vale¡¯s pod.


    "This seems like a pretty convenient solution, locking you in with nowhere to go. Whoever made this was a genius."


    Caledon exchanged a glance with Pevir, who slowly backed away from them, his moustache twitching in anxiety. Icey peeked out from behind his foot, still reeling from Vale¡¯s threat.


    "Sweet dreams lordling."


    Caledon gaped as Shiver made to leave the pod room.


    "Where are you going?"


    Shiver turned around to meet his eyes.


    "I said most of us aren¡¯t crazy enough to face our Fears head on."


    Caledon stared at her incredulously.


    She couldn¡¯t have¡­


    She shot him a wink.

 Chapter 28: Fear of death

    "That sorry excuse for an orphan, I swear to Avalkin, when I get my hands on her-"


    In record time, Vale had returned to her nightmare. She had barely had the chance to fully awaken from her night¡¯s rest, before she had been returned to Soulhaven.


    "Filthy, crazy orph-"


    "You have to give it to her¡­ she is quite efficient."


    "One more word from you Quietus Vingrave and I¡¯ll use you as a toothpick."


    The small wishbone quaked at the threat, creating as much distance as he could from her while perched her on her shoulder.


    "Ahem. Forgive me."


    Vale took in the familiar room around her. Her rage slowly began to ebb away. She sighed as she recognised the familiar location. It was after all, where she had spent most of her time in the Archcity of Death.


    Her old room.


    It was large ¨C even by the castle¡¯s standards. It easily housed her queen-sized bed, and there had been plenty of space for her mother Asale, sister Dawn, and even Triol to spend time with her here.


    Elegant mahogany dressers and cabinets filled the room, just like she had envisioned as the excitable little girl, eager to play the perfect noble.


    They had gone to significant lengths attempting to breathe life into her room, as they had with the others. In their defence, they had succeeded, as much as was possible in their father¡¯s domain. She walked out into a balcony, and a nostalgic view greeted her.


    Cliffs of bone as high as the eye could see.


    She promptly shut her curtains, returning to the room.


    She stared at a body-length mirror housed in a frame of dark gold. She was garbed in a black dress, complete with a corset trimmed in darksilver. The perfect lady. She resisted the urge to shatter it.


    She recalled the brief happiness she had shared with her sister, mother, and brother while they first settled into their new home. Showered in their newfound father¡¯s attention, granted the shallow bells and whistles of the nobility. Dresses, jewellery, servants ¨C it was clear they were in his favour. The only exception being the cold distance maintained by the other siblings, who kept a consistent distance.


    Her older brother Triol, was just as excited, completely taken by their father, idolising him. And Vetrian Revenant was easy to admire ¨C exhibiting a charisma which had quickly endeared his children to him. It was no wonder their mother had been so enamoured, and convinced that he would welcome them with open arms.


    She looked pleadingly into the ceiling above, as if entreating the mysterious voice that had sealed her in.


    Please, let me out.


    Yet she was met with no reprieve, this time.


    She was not drawn back into reality.


    Forced to confront and acknowledge her Fear.


    Dammit Shiver¡­ when I get my hands on you¡­


    Lost in her thoughts, she was broken out of her reverie with a knock on the door. Opening it, she saw Triol and Dawn, eagerly waiting. They were both dressed smartly, similarly to herself, to attend their father. Dawn smiled excitedly at her, and even the arrogant Triol greeted her with a nod.


    She felt her throat constrict, and her breathing grow ragged. Vale fought to control her expression, as she realised that it was the very same day their lives would change irrevocably. The realisation made her withdraw into herself, and she tried desperately to escape the nightmare prematurely, as she had twice before.


    All that was left for her was Dawn¡¯s unanswered innocent smile, which she wished could catch, and immortalise in her memory.


    Meeting it, she drew her sister¡¯s hand into her own and walked down the dark corridor.


    ----


    They lounged together in Soulhaven¡¯s courtyard. For a citadel of death, it had surprising pockets of life. Places that she gravitated towards, even before she had pierced its veil. She watched as the wind lightly tossed her mother¡¯s hair.


    Today, she was dressed in an elegant black dress, with her signature dark burgundy painted elegantly on her lips. Vale¡¯s eyes traced her mother¡¯s face, and she noticed things that had been lost to her before.


    She detected a happiness that had not been present, when they had stayed in the village. Before their father had returned to claim them.


    She looked fulfilled, happy.


    Vale¡¯s heart ached at the sight of it.


    "Mama!"


    Dawn surged forwards, throwing herself into her mother¡¯s arms. Her mother received her with bright laughter.


    "My, my! Aren¡¯t you excited to see me?"


    She glanced at Dawn¡¯s pigtails, markedly less lopsided than they had been previously.


    "It looks like someone¡¯s been improving! Excited for the audience with your father?"


    Vale¡¯s gaze fell, to find herself her fists tightly clasped, her knuckles white. Her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands. Quietus stood perched on her shoulder, silently watching.


    "What do you think he¡¯ll give us, mama! Surely you know?"


    Their mother laughed.


    "A beautiful gift, Dawn. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll come to appreciate and treasure it."


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    Dawn beamed up at her mother. Of the three of them, she was the one her mother had doted on the most. It came from being the youngest¡­ to some extent. Vale¡¯s arrogance had often rubbed her mother the wrong way ¨C never mind that she drew inspiration from her own demeanour.


    Triol was more distant, he had never been overeager for her attention. He stood restless, his eyes wandering, impatient to discover the gift that their father had in store for them.


    "Will you be coming along, mother? Does he have a gift for you too?"


    Asale laughed brightly, gently ruffling her daughter¡¯s hair.


    "He has already given me mine, so I won¡¯t be joining you I¡¯m afraid."


    She smiled warmly, this time, directed at the three of them.


    "I¡¯m off to run some errands. Let¡¯s celebrate once you¡¯re done."


    A gust of cold wind brought goosebumps over Vale¡¯s arms, encased by her cloak.


    She felt nausea rising within her, as her dread continued to build.


    She tried to shut her eyes, willing herself, with everything she could, to leave the dream.


    The welcome reprieve of reality was denied to her.


    Feardamnit.


    ---


    "Sit, please."


    Their father¡¯s study, exuded warmth and comfort paradoxical to his aura. It was all too easy to sink into the lush cushions opposite him, as they took their seats. It was filled with tomes and artefacts. Vale glanced towards a painting that beautifully rendered Idriel and Valefor, Elucidor¡¯s twin moons in all of their golden and silver glory.


    "What have you brought us together for, father?"


    Dawn called out excitedly, disappointing the veritable army of tutors that had so diligently attempted to hammer some semblance of manners into her.


    Vetrian Revenant met the question with only a warm smile. He was dressed in his typical attire. Dawn had excitedly asked him what manner of beast he had felled to weave his cloak.


    A shadow wolf, he had said. One he had hunted in the forests of the Dreadwood, as a young Fearshaper.


    He had spoken of biomes unending, that filled the Archcity of Life, domain of House Flora. He had hunted this one in a forest of perpetual night and shadow. On that fateful day, Vale had watched the flickering fur pouring from his shoulders entranced, as he spoke of a forest that the sunlight didn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t, touch.


    Their father¡¯s face gently hardened, adopting a formality, without relinquishing any distance.


    "Today is a very important day for all of you. You are children of House Revenant, the very progenitors of the Archcity of Death. The object of our power is death itself, and you, my dear children, will be the heralds of our legacy."


    In his arms, materialised a sleek sword of shining silver. They were enraptured by its sudden appearance, purity and elegance. It was the very image of the sword she had seen in the crypt, when she had chosen her guide in the presence of the Matchmaker.


    Then, Vale caught a sight of something else in the reflection of his sword.


    She clasped a hand over her mouth, her eyes bloodshot with Fear. She began to quiver.


    Q-quietus¡­ w-what was that¡­


    "Calm, Vale. You know his true nature, and it reveals itself to you in the nightmare, even as it deviates from history as you knew it."


    Her father looked at her questioningly, before continuing. Vale steeled herself, fighting from tearing across the miniscule distance that separated them from their father, and tearing out his throat, despite the Fear that gripped her heart in a vice.


    "You will become Fearshapers of House Revenant. None of you have triggered your Fears. You are untouched, pure, as I have ensured. Deviations often occur, most often in those that disappoint."


    He paced slowly in front of them, looking into each of their eyes in turn.


    As the moonlight of Valefor and Idriel drew across his face, it revealed a bare skull in its place, as dark as obsidian. His longsword, previously displaying its untarnished beauty morphed into a sickening visage of flesh and bone, writhing in place.


    Vale tightened her fists. Her father had descended so deeply into his Fear, that he had become the very image of it.


    Death.


    "Do not turn away Vale. Confront it."


    Her anger burgeoned in proportion to her Fear. Her arms shivered as adrenaline and dread coursed through them in equal measure.


    Dismissing his sword, he gestured to them, and they walked with him, through the endless corridors enshrouded in darkness.


    "Death is an inevitable part of life. Many meet it with anger, regret¡­ with fear. And indeed, in order to be a Fearshaper of House Revenant, death must be the object of your own Fears. But it should not spring from a middling reluctance to greet it, no."


    They descended, down a spiral staircase, into the castle¡¯s depths. Vale saw her sister, enraptured by their father¡¯s speech, her small hands idly by her side. She fought the urge to grab her, and run, as far away as she could. Her brother Triol, only looked on, in dark fascination.


    "No. If you are to be Fearshapers of the Revenant name, you must understand the depths, the very nature of death. I would expect no less from such excellent specimens, such as yourselves."


    Dawn screamed, at the sight of their mother hanging in chains, as the basement of revealed itself before them. Dressed beautifully, for what she knew had awaited her.


    She met their eyes, with the same sincere smile on her face that she had worn in the courtyard.


    Her expression, devoid of fear, betrayed only love for her husband, and for them.


    Triol¡¯s eyes widened, wrenched from his sickly reverie.


    Their father¡¯s warm smile never wavered, as he drew his sword into reality, and across their mother¡¯s throat.


    Her vision shook, as Vale witnessed her most horrific memory.


    The very inception of her Fear, as her mother¡¯s life was stolen away from her with a casual gesture. Extinguished, for the trivial purpose of instilling a Fear of loss, of death, into them.


    Dawn never stopped screaming, her voice turning raw and wet, gradually coloured by the blood drawn by her visceral scream. It slowly morphed into heaving sobs, as time slowly resumed itself.


    Triol fell to his knees, his head in his hands as his Fear took root, creating a fixation that would cling to him for the rest of his life. So had Vale, when it had happened. She remembered being driven to her knees, as the sensation she had been free from for her entire life crept into her for the first time, to stay with her forever more. Death became a fixation, a fascination that she would not be free from, no matter her will or intention.


    Of them, only Dawn remained standing, unafflicted by a Fear.


    "What beautiful resilience."


    Their father, ran his hands through Dawn¡¯s pigtails, tied with clumsy, youthful asymmetry despite her mother¡¯s pestering. He seized them in his hand, and gently lifted her face, to bring her mother into view.


    Vale had looked away the day it happened, she would not look away now.


    Their mother, who lay lifeless in chains, broke into a smile to match the red crescent that marred her throat, as her father¡¯s Fearshaping asserted itself over her.


    Dawn broke, her eyes deprived of their colour. At the sight of their mother¡¯s body, so easily puppeteered, and her bloody smile, which matched the burgundy so carefully painted and fresh on her lips.


    And then came Vale¡¯s rage, which had not been present when her Fear had first awakened. Welling up like a wave inside of her, threatening to tear out of her very skin.


    She finally awakened to, and acknowledged the essence of her Fear, her regret, as she faced it unblinkingly.


    She wanted to scream, to tear her father limb from limb. To wrench the fabric of time itself and tear it back to the moment they had stood at the foot of their household, prior to joining their father, and to make a different choice.


    Tears streamed down Vale¡¯s face, as she faced the inception of her Fear.


    As she comprehended its nature, its shape.


    That of death, which marches on inevitable, with no exception.


    Claiming souls, bright and dark alike, with indiscretion.


    Yet even if death disgusted her, she would acknowledge it ¨C no ¨C embrace it ¨C if it meant that she might ever so gently guide it in her father¡¯s direction.


    To claim him, as he did their mother before him.

 Chapter 29: Sanctioned Violence

    Shiver watched, as Icey shot down the corridor to meet her. She was seated on the steps leading up to the golden gates that barred them from the Floors of Trepidation. Her eyes lingered on the ward behind her, her lips drawn into a slight smile. Caledon and Vale were in the pods, seeking to reach their acknowledgement. She had tasked Icey with keeping an eye out for their pursuers.


    The appearance of her guide could only mean one thing.


    "They¡¯re finally here? Let¡¯s go greet them, shall we popsicle?"


    "Shiver¡­ are you sure about this? You should be careful!"


    "As certain as can be. Watch the magic happen."


    Shiver strode past the pod room that Caledon and Vale were dreaming in. Pevir, against her advice had descended alone to the basement to explore the academy¡¯s library. She had to give it to him, the man was unstoppable when he caught sight of an interesting book.


    The lift that Shiver entered creaked as it came to a stop.


    Shiver walked out into the courtyard with a confident smile.


    "Welcome to the academy gentleman. Here to be taught a lesson? I¡¯ll be your instructor for today."


    Lord Semille, flanked by his knights, and Triol Revenant stood in the courtyard. Shiver¡¯s grin widened as she spotted the bandages wrapped around Semille¡¯s midriff, where the academy¡¯s guardian had pierced him. Even the legendary armour of the Dreadwood had been unable to fully relieve him of the wound. Although, it did look like the armour had successfully resisted the flames that the Terror had brought forth.


    Regrettably.


    "YOU!"


    He stalked forward, drawing his sword.


    "My lord, please, do not fall to her provocations-"


    "Silence you insolent bastards! Just because my mother knighted you does not give you authority over me."


    His eyes gleamed in hunger, as they hungrily roved over Shiver¡¯s body.


    She was reminded of the way the lord had stood over Blaze, after beating her into submission. The welts on her eyes and bruises that blossomed all across the young grl¡¯s face and body.


    "The great Lord Semille Flora, I presume? Please forgive my insolence. I had not realised that I was standing in such esteemed company the previous times we met."


    Lord Semille¡¯s mouth curled into a savage smile, as he stalked closer, his tongue wetting his lips with his bloodlust. Triol Revenant just sat back, watching the exchange, his undead wolves by his side.


    "I¡¯m glad you¡¯ve come to your senses girl. Perhaps I¡¯ll forgive your previous indiscretions if you served your lord as befitted your station."


    Shiver¡¯s voice pitched even higher, she clasped her hands together, her doe eyes staring at his.


    "I would ever be grateful for the opportunity! However¡­"


    Her gaze flitted to his trousers.


    "I¡¯m afraid there wouldn¡¯t be much to serve."


    Lord Semille halted in his approach. Shiver¡¯s smile widened, and she capitalised on the momentary silence.


    "The great Lord Flora so failed in his single task to deliver a package to Brimstone. Lost to an orphan girl all of twelve years, because you were too busy staring at some cleavage. Madam Knifely¡¯s supple bosom, it was if I recall correctly. Blaze did very well."


    Shiver cast her doe eyes at him, with artfully manufactured pity.


    "What your poor mother must think? A boy incapable of a simple delivery task, distracted by the temptations of his tiny wooden twig."


    It was a cheap insult. Shiver would¡¯ve given it a 4/10.


    But it didn¡¯t have to be elegant, it just had to be enough.


    A feral growl escaped Semille¡¯s lips and he shot towards Shiver. An undead wolf intercepted the lord¡¯s charge towards her, and Shiver¡¯s expression of glee dropped momentarily.


    "Lord Semille. The academy does not tolerate unsanctioned violence."


    Semille¡¯s face was flushed through. His eyes bloodshot, as they strained from his sockets.


    Feardamnit. Looks like a 4/10 won¡¯t cut it.


    "You¡¯ll accept my challenge won¡¯t you girl?"


    Her voice resumed the sweetness that it possessed just a moment ago. Her eyes alight again. She paced before them casually.


    "I wonder how much your dearest mother would reward me for my attempts to rid House Flora of the shitstain on its reputation. I¡¯ve always wondered how she triggered your fear of plants. I have a theory, hear me out. Mummy must have stuck a corn cob up your arse! There¡¯s no other feasible way that comes to me. And I bet you enjoyed it didn¡¯t you, you dirty little bo-"


    Semille charged towards her screaming, shoving the wolf out of the way.


    Shiver smiled, at his predictable charge. The lord barely had the braincells to overcome the primal draw of his ego, and Shiver would use it against him.


    "Semille no! She hasn¡¯t accepted your chall-"


    Lord Semille screamed as he swung his sword down towards Shiver¡¯s neck as she met his eyes unflinchingly with a smile.


    In the moment between seconds, it was intercepted by a familiar blade of frost.


    Shiver¡¯s demure smile turned demonic.


    The academy¡¯s guardian stood before them. She tilted her head as she regarded Semille.


    A serene, feminine voice echoed from the Terror¡¯s lips.


    "Unsanctioned combat detected. Punishment will be administered."


    With a flick of her wrist, she sent her blade carving across Semille¡¯s stomach once more, eliciting a scream of agony.


    Music to her ears.


    As he collapsed to the ground, shivering as the cold spread throughout his body, his knight attendants rushed to him.


    "The medical bay is right that way gentleman. Proceed straight and take a right at the end of the hall. You¡¯ll have the stars to keep you company."


    Shiver beamed as she watched as Semille was rushed off¡­


    In the direction of the latrines.


    Hopefully, his attendants would leave their lord where he belonged. Shiver turned to regard Triol, who observed the commotion with an amused expression.


    She gestured for him to take a seat beside her.


    ---


    Vale opened her eyes, and saw the lattice of black substance that sealed her into her pod gradually retreat back into the room floor. She took a moment to stare at the artificial stars that twinkled in the room¡¯s roof.


    I did it. That¡¯s it?


    There was a new sensation in her body, she could feel something moving within her, uncontained.


    It was like a veil had suddenly been removed from her eyes ¨C no ¨C from all of her sensations. She could feel the essence of her Fear moving within her, brought within her awareness at long last.


    "By the Gravelords, you did it! Your will is strong, and especially formidable, even having seen countless talents come before me! Not that I remember them¡­ Ahem. Forgive my excitement. Are you alright?"


    Vale smiled, this time, with a little less hesitation.


    "Thank you for accompanying me Lord Quietus. Without you, I¡­"


    "It was no trouble at all my dear student, this is the very beginning of your descent. There will be many more nightmares to come. And I will be there to face them with you."


    She sighed. Seeing her mother and Dawn again, reliving those horrible memories. She felt anger well up inside her, reminded of her father¡¯s deeds, stealing their mother away from them and instilling their Fears of death within them.


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    Dawn, I wish I could see you. You must be lonely.


    She rose from the pod to see Caledon still sealed within his. Shiver was nowhere to be seen.


    "Where has that girl run off to."


    She gently opened the door, heading towards the courtyard.


    ---


    Vale¡¯s eyes widened as she saw Shiver deep in conversation with Triol. Upon noticing her, the girl broke from the conversation and waved over at her cheerily.


    "What in Avalkin¡¯s hairy-"


    "Vale, that is unbecoming of a lady. This is terrible¡­ I must be a bad inf-"


    "What are you doing with him? He just tried to capture me to bring me back to that monster!"


    Vale glowered at her brother, which was when she realised that his skin had taken on an uncharacteristic pallor.


    Is he¡­ sweating?


    Shiver cast an angelic smile at her, shooting her a wink.


    "Oh don¡¯t you worry, I had a few choice words with him. Come find me when you¡¯re done!"


    With a cheery pat on her back, Shiver left Vale behind, skipping away to lounge under a tree in the distance.


    Crazy orphan.


    "I have nothing to say to you."


    "Vale¡­ please. I have always been on your side. Our mother¡¯s side."


    "By serving father? Explain it to me, how do you expect to kill him by serving him? Have you gone Insane?"


    Triol¡¯s calm composure broke.


    "And how do you expect to kill him otherwise? By some great miracle? Becoming a Fearshaper before he snuffs you out once his amusement of you fades away? You know that father has only kept you alive because you entertain him."


    "WELL WHAT ABOUT YOU, TRI? ARE YOU ANY DIFFERENT?"


    Her shouts rang out in the courtyard between them.


    Triol flinched, his eyes widening as he finally noticed tears in his sister¡¯s eyes.


    "What do you think he¡¯ll do to you once he grows bored of you? Continue building you up? Nurturing you so that you can murder him? Snap out of it you Feardamned idiot!"


    The tears ran freely from Vale¡¯s eyes, her hiccups echoing through the courtyard. Triol instinctively reached out to his sister, but withdrew his hand. He knew that he had no right. Then his eyes widened as his sister met his gaze, desperation filling her expression.


    "Please Tri, join me. We can do this together. We can save Dawn and put that death-obsessed bastard in the ground where he belongs. You could even apologise to Pevir. Make it up to him. We can do this! Together!"


    His sister¡¯s voice grew desperate, trying vainly to justify the horrors he had already committed - his control of Pevir being just one of them.


    Triol¡¯s shoulders sunk. He refused to meet his sister¡¯s gaze.


    "I can¡¯t Vale. You know, that we are nothing without him. Do you think these ¡°friends¡± of yours will help you gain the power you require? As soon as you are an inconvenience to them, you will be discarded."


    He shook his head, emboldened by his own words.


    "You have always been optimistic, and I, no all of us, treasured your hope. But your hope alone will not save us."


    "Most of all¡­ what would happen to Dawn if I did?"


    Triol¡¯s words hung in the air. An ugly truth reared its head, and shame overwhelmed Vale. The implication stung, left unsaid.


    You abandoned her. I stayed.


    Vale¡¯s words came out as a whisper, but her resolve held. It had to.


    "There was no way we would beat him while we were under him, Triol. You have to believe me. I didn¡¯t abandon her, I tried to escape with all of you. Please. Don¡¯t leave me."


    Triol walked past his sister, towards the elevators. His eyes, so similar in nature to Vale¡¯s ¨C a dark lavender that shone in the golden light of the courtyard.


    Yet devoid of all tears or hope.


    Triol gave Shiver a brief nod and made for the second time, to the Floors of Trepidation.


    ---


    "Oho. She appears."


    Vale withdrew her head from the nooks of her arms. Her face was wet with tears, her wavy golden hair matted and tangled, sticking to the trails left behind by her sorrow.


    "You¡¯re a mess princess. I¡¯ve seen crabs that look better than you."


    Her eyes hardened. And Shiver dodged a wildly thrown slap. Shiver raised an eye, impressed at unadulterated violence on display.


    "That¡¯s my favourite deathlady."


    Vale lunged at her, finally finding some success as she clung to Shiver¡¯s shirt.


    "You think its fun being locked in a nightmare pod? Then I find you cheerfully chatting with my brother? Come here you Feardamned shit orphan-"


    Shiver let out a yelp, as she struggled against Vale. After a few seconds of struggling to pull the stronger and more dextrous girl down towards her, Vale relented. In an instant all of the rage and energy she had burned with, disappeared.


    They sat in silence, watching the cold breeze filter through the glowing leaves of the trees in the courtyard.


    "I hate you."


    Shiver just sat in silence, her eyes closed as the cold breeze blew across her face.


    "What did you talk about with him anyway."


    "I just had a few choice words with him, it was nothing special."


    Shiver looked towards her, her eyes gleaming.


    "Oh? What did you say?"


    "Not telling."


    Vale was tempted, to reach the truth that lay concealed, under her thin veneer of levity, but the orphan¡¯s intentions were undecipherable. She let out a sigh, wiping her tears away. She was past the point of caring.


    Shiver looked inquisitively at her.


    "You broke through? Reached acknowledgement?"


    "She certainly did! Her Fear has well and truly been brought within her awareness!"


    "I did. No thanks to you."


    "I recall being the one to carry you to your pod. You deserved the royal treatment."


    Vale shot a glare at Shiver, but one that was absent of true vitriol. She was too tired for it.


    Shiver took a seat under one of the frost trees, small particles of snow hanging around them like motes of silver dust. With a sigh, she sat next to Shiver, poking her in the side. Vale mumbled with a soft voice.


    "It was of some help I suppose."


    She put her face in her hands, and heaved another large sigh. Shiver rolled her eyes.


    "Out with it."


    "Hmm?"


    Vale looked at her in alarm. And Shiver just stared back with a glib expression.


    "There¡¯s clearly something on your mind. Is there anyone else here that you trust as much as me?"


    "Don¡¯t forget me, Vale! You can always talk to me!"


    "I would never forget you Popsicle."


    Icey sighed, resigned to her fate. She had lost her name, never to reclaim it again.


    "How was the nightmare?"


    Vale dreaded the thought of revisiting those memories, but she supposed she did owe Shiver an explanation. The girl had followed her into an abandoned Archcity and had been put through hell, even if it was for her own selfish reasons.


    "You know, its hard to believe¡­ but I wasn¡¯t born into the nobility. We were bastards."


    "That you certainly are."


    "Shut it. My brother Triol, and my sister Dawn."


    Vale explained how they had been taken to Souhaven after growing up with their mother in the dreary, mundane village of Drolth.


    How they had been welcomed and showered with their father¡¯s attention.


    How they had ignored the plight of the other siblings, basking in his praise and favour.


    All to be dashed away when their father revealed his true nature and ended their mother¡¯s life ¨C to instill them with a Fear of death. Their mother reduced to a mere tool, a means to plant what he considered to be a ¡°beautiful¡± Fear.


    "So, you escaped?"


    "Yes, with difficulty. Triol was convinced the only path to power was through their father. He was a lost cause. But I took my sister, and we attempted to escape..."


    Vale sighed, and Icey rubbed up to her attempting to comfort her.


    "We were caught. My father, who had carefully hidden his undead, let them out in full force. He had eyes and ears everywhere."


    She paused, as guilt filled her eyes.


    "He caught Dawn. I managed to escape, with help. Father killed them."


    "Oh."


    "Part of me thinks he let me go because it would be entertaining. In fact, I¡¯m certain of it."


    "Well then, you¡¯ll just have to give him the show he wants. Let it be the death of him."


    Vale met Shiver¡¯s eyes. The ones that so often held mirth and mischief, and in equal amounts, compassion and kindness. As well as the sadness and regret that she tried so hard to smother, that Vale was not ignorant to.


    Her ¡°friend¡±, had come to care for a runaway lady, even if she chose a curious way to express it.


    Now, Shiver¡¯s were coloured with an empty anger. A silent understanding of her despair.


    "But he¡¯s a monster."


    "And so is Berevan Brimstone."


    Shiver leaned back, lying against the frost-touched grass, staring up at the tree that shaded them from the warm glow of golden light that fell from the light orbs hanging in the air.


    "It¡¯s simple, Vale. We just need to become monsters ourselves."


    They sat in silence, listening to the gentle swaying of the trees in the central courtyard as a cold wind blew through the academy.


    The images of the Terrors that roamed the Archcity returned to them. They strode on a plane so far above the realm of reasonableness and reality that¡­


    As much as they terrified them¡­ they gave them hope. That there were monstrosities out there, capable of rivalling the greatest monsters that they pursued themselves.


    As Vale stared at the serene courtyard bathed in gentle golden light, she wondered what the academy looked like back when it was populated with budding young Fearshapers, all confronting their Fears to descend. She wondered what drove them, to delve into the depths as they now did.


    "Speaking of which¡­ You¡¯ve already acknowledged your Fear, haven¡¯t you?"


    Shiver gave her a smirk. Vale rolled her eyes.


    "Show off."


    Icey interjected, piping up with pride.


    "Actually, Shiver descended last night! She didn¡¯t need the pods!"


    Vale gaped in disbelief as smugness emanated from Shiver in waves.


    Of course she had.


    "Crazy orphan."


    "It¡¯s time for you to hear my sob story."


    "I don¡¯t want to hear it."


    "You¡¯ve got no choice, my lady. "


    "I don¡¯t want to hear it. La-la-laaa-"


    Vale settled back as Shiver recounted her acknowledgment, her eyes lingering on her face. Jealousy and admiration bloomed in her chest.


    Both useless feelings.


    Better, that they inspired her, so that Vale could match her Insane friend.

 Chapter 30: Fear of Ice

    "Shiver¡­"


    Shiver slashed an oncoming ice shade as it rushed towards her, the blade of her Phobia finding its neck.


    This one, bore Marta¡¯s face. As it fell to the ground, shattering into slivers of ice, she cast her gaze towards the others. She was in the same nightmare that had visited her on the night after she had first awakened. When she had been on horseback with Vale, making their way towards the Archcity of Fear.


    A blizzard swirled lazily around her, impeding her vision of the dark forest around her. The twin moons of Valefor and Idriel shone down at her, their light reaching her through the air above her, mercifully free from the swirling cold winds.


    She stood in the same nightmare that she had first been visited with, the day she had become a Fearshaper. Her eyes scanned the blizzard that circled her, the bodies of her loves ones faced down in the snow, their throats slit by her own hands. Shiver¡¯s Phobia, her twin daggers of ice dissipated in a shower of frost, having achieved their purpose.


    "Shiver¡­ you need to confront and acknowledge your Fear to proceed¡­"


    "I know, I know-"


    "I¡¯m glad you do. I was afraid that maybe¡­"


    Icey paused, her thought drawing onwards.


    "Maybe it had slipped your mind that you were to blame for their deaths!"


    "I told you, I¡¯ll get to it-"


    Shiver stopped. Her head snapped around towards where Icey lay in the snow. The ice cube was nowhere to be seen, and her heartbeat began to accelerate, as she desperately cast her gaze around her in search of her guide.


    "How quickly you¡¯ve forgotten! Silly, you. Their deaths must not have meant much, right?"


    A shade bearing her own face strode out of the winter winds, its lips drawing into a familiar grin. The tonality of the shade changing from its perfect mimicry of Icey¡¯s voice to her own.


    The shade¡¯s cheeks parted to reveal a half-moon of gleaming fangs that ran the entire circumference of her face, from ear to ear. Blood dripped from the orifice, bright red amongst the muted dark grey of her lifeless skin.


    Shiver returned its smile.


    "That must be why everyone looks so terrified when I smile at them. Have you seen yourself? You should really work on that, you know."


    The shade lunged towards her, with all the dexterity that it possessed. Blurring through the ice with twin daggers of black frost in its own hands.


    Matching her.


    Shiver stood still, as her doppelganger rushed towards her. Her Phobia, the twin daggers were absent from her hands. Shiver met her shade head on, pivoting and attempting to surprise it with her sudden change in direction.


    All anticipated by shade-Shiver.


    Its maw widened, as it¡¯s face trailed Shiver¡¯s neck, drawing towards it like an arrow that traced her.


    Shiver swept her empty hand upwards, her palm outstretched as it caught onto the bottom of the shade¡¯s chin. She drove its gaze upwards for a split second. Her other hand caught onto its right shoulder, halting its advance momentarily.


    A hairbreadth away from the shade¡¯s own neck, now fully exposed.


    She called her Phobia into existence into her right hand, and pushed, using the moment of reprieve to sink it into the shade¡¯s jugular. She felt cold, black blood wash over her hand.


    Shade Shvier stumbled back, and cracks rapidly spidered outwards from the point of impact, crumbling into a haze of shards, now laying on the ground, defeated. Confirming that her doppelganger no longer posed a threat, Shiver resumed her search for her guide.


    "Popsicle¡­ are you there?"


    Only the howling gale of the blizzard surrounding her met her ears.


    "Icey?"


    "You said my name!"


    She watched as her guide darted out of the cold winds surrounding her. She couldn¡¯t help but feel a tinge of relief at the sight of her.


    "That shade that looks like you¡­ it¡¯s powerful. It threw me into the snowstorm and mimicked me!"


    "Figures that I would be my own worst enemy."


    Shiver smiled smugly. Then, her thoughts returned to the nightmare before her. Just had she did in her previous nightmare, she watched as the lanky, bespectacled man and beautiful woman with wings of ice walked past her.


    She gazed after them, then began to follow them through the Winterstorm¡¯s gale.


    ---


    Eventually, they emerged into a familiar forest. To her left, was a frozen lake. The same one on which she had awakened as a Fearshaper. They would encroach upon Brimstone, if they continued to skirt the mountainside pressing forwards.


    The pair came to a stop at the mouth of a familiar cave - shielded from the Winterstorm¡¯s winds by the forest. Then, she watched as a girl who looked to be around ten years of age walked in, after them.


    Young Shiver¡¯s hair was long, falling to the small of her back. That was before she had cut it, identifying it as a weakness to be exploited on the streets. She watched a familiar dream, as her parents ushered her into the cave. As they mentioned the girl¡¯s name, their voices came out in a jumble.


    Of all of her memories of the night, this one troubled her the least.


    The name they had given her mattered not, the moment they had abandoned her. She had no interest in learning of it or reclaiming it.


    She watched as the man crouched, kindly cradling the girl¡¯s face in his hands as she wept.


    "It¡¯s going to be ok, darling."


    "B-but¡­ our home! What will we do daddy?"


    He nodded at her, as the woman kept her vigilant gaze on the cave¡¯s exit. She gave her a soft smile.


    A sweet lie.


    "Sweetie. Your father and I are going to get it back."


    Her mother¡¯s gaze hardened, piercing cerulean eyes meeting hers.


    She extended her hand, drawing an elegant sword of frost into existence. Its blade was thin and narrow, and a fine mist peeled off its surface. With her other hand, she pulled her daughter into an embrace.


    "We¡¯ll be back for you. Wait here for just a moment, ok?"


    "Shiver¡­"


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    Shiver peered down at her guide, who had interrupted the moment. She gave her a small smile and reproach.


    "Hush."


    Shiver, all of ten years of age, watched as her father and mother departed, leaving her in the cave. Words, that had escaped her, all those years ago, returned to her.


    "¡­if we don¡¯t ¡­ message to¡­Ventra."


    "... can¡¯t¡­ her¡­ here."


    "...trust...her."


    The mans lips moved, and he cast a small glance back at his daughter, who was draped in his cloak. The little girl, clung desperately to the remnants of his warmth that it held.


    Then, they left. Walking out of the cave, never to return again.


    Shiver blinked, and she went from watching the scene unfold to shifting into the perspective of her younger self. Only this time, she didn¡¯t succumb to the sadness.


    She wiped away tears and snot, that threatened to drip down to sully her father¡¯s cloak. She took a deep breath¡­ And leaned against the cold surface of the cave with a smile.


    "Shiver¡­ are you alright?"


    "Perfectly fine, Popsicle."


    "They¡­ left you-"


    "Abandoned, me. Let¡¯s call it how we see it."


    "B-but it looked like they had left to defend their hom-"


    "Then they should have taken me with them. We could have died together."


    Yet, for all of her nonchalance, Shiver frowned as a pang of abandonment and betrayal blossomed within her. Followed by shame, and anger.


    Shiver¡¯s memories of her parents were scarce. Occasionally, she was visited by nightmares of the day, where they had left her in the cave she had made her home. Before the nightmare, it had gone a long time since she had seen them ¨C barely remembering their faces.


    The dreams born of an elf¡¯s Fear often circled matters of significance to them. That had been the reason they had disappeared. They no longer mattered to her.


    Shiver smiled as she felt the biting cold begin to sink into her. The residual warmth mercifully contained in her father¡¯s cloak eventually running out.


    On the day of her abandonment, she had held his cloak tightly towards her, naively believing it would halt the interminable advance of the cold.


    This time, Shiver made a different decision and discarded it.


    She opened her arms to her Fear, welcoming its advent as it enveloped her. The feeling of abandonment accompanying its bite like a spear of ice through her chest.


    After that day, she had cried, raged, broken a door or three in the orphanage at the unfairness of it all. Thrown popsicles from the rooftops at the children walking hand in hand with their parents, in the lower and upper circles alike. With undeserved happiness.


    What had she done to deserve this?


    She came to realise that there was no reason to it.


    That some elves got to live in warmth while others were denied it.


    Shiver settled her back against the cave wall, letting out a sigh as the chill gradually made its way into her bones.


    Her resentment remained, but it had waned with the passing years, just like her hope.


    "This was where your Fear of ice was triggered. You made it your home."


    Then, Shiver smiled a true smile down at her guide. One bereft of artifice, or vain attempts to conceal her sadness or resentment.


    "You have my permission to bask in my brilliance, popsicle. It¡¯s alright, don¡¯t hold back. You mean to say that not many would be Insane enough to live where their Fear was awakened."


    Icey¡¯s cold heart ached for her charge.


    "Why would I? To be constantly reminded of the choice that my parents made, to abandon me."


    Shiver closed her eyes.


    "To tell you the truth¡­ I was¡­ I am a useless, worthless street urchin. And yet some people thought me deserving of love."


    Shiver grit her teeth, as the tears finally came unbidden. Not at the thought of her birth parents, but as they wandered to the people she had come to love. The memories of Marta, disciplining a rogue little demon with few redeeming qualities. Pov, who would approach her after she was reprimanded, with his kindness. Imparting gentle wisdom to a girl undeserving. Blaze, the little orphan who naively came to look up to her as an older sister. Being offered a place to live.


    Finally a place to call home.


    "I live in this Feardamned cave, Icey, to remind me that while I was abandoned, there were still people stupid enough to value me. I never wanted to forget it."


    It was all too easy to forget the cold, when you basked in warmth.


    She vowed never to forget it again.


    Shiver closed her eyes with a smirk.


    "And what better way to so utterly confront your Fear, than to turn the site of its inception into your home."


    She leaned back, her head touching the cold, bare stone behind her. Even as her heart ached from loneliness and the freezing wind, Shiver¡¯s lips stretched out into a viscious grin.


    She felt her Fear flowing within her, suddenly brought within the bounds of her awareness. That sickly chill, that had wormed its way into her heart, all those years ago from her greatest betrayal, suddenly tangible within her body.


    "What better way to dominate it."


    Icey watched her with sadness.


    The young were meant to be filled with hope, ambition and reckless curiosity.


    Yet despite the strength of her words, all that burned in Shiver¡¯s eyes was bitterness, anger and dogged determination.


    She searched the depths of her Fearshaper¡¯s eyes.


    The little ice cube felt a chill.


    For all amidst all of those dark emotions that swirled in the depths of Shiver¡¯s eyes....


    Fear?


    Fear was nowhere to be found.


    ---


    Vale paled, as Shiver recounted her nightmare to her with a casual grin.


    I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever felt sorry for someone¡¯s Fear before¡­ if I was Shiver¡¯s I¡¯d be looking to hand in my resignation.


    "I wouldn¡¯t expect anything less, you crazy orphan."


    Vale ran her fingers through her hair, and frowned, a thought coming to her.


    "Did you ever try to search for your parents? What about your memories of where you had lived before?"


    Shiver shook her head, her eyes lingering on the gentle golden suns above them..


    "I didn¡¯t find a thing. Back when I stayed at the orphanage, I would sneak out of Brimstone to search. I never found any hints of them. Inside the city or out. As for my memories¡­ they never returned to me."


    Then Shiver returned a cheery smile.


    "Not that it mattered! My parents are just as dead to me as they¡¯re likely to be in reality ¨C dead. So are my memories of the past. Nothing I would want to rediscover."


    Then, she turned her gaze to her guide. Icey had been silent for a while now.


    "You ok there Popsicle? You look a little shaken."


    Shiver and Vale watched on in surprise as the little ice cube darted away from them.


    "Shiver¡­ I think something¡¯s troubling her."


    Her friend turned to her.


    "I¡¯ll¡­ give her some time. If I¡¯ve learned anything about our favourite Popsicle, she has a heart that¡¯s too big for her. Seeing it can¡¯t have been easy."


    From within the folds of Vale¡¯s cloak emerged Quietus, who inclined his body in agreement.


    "It is never easy, for a guide ¨C at least those with a heart ¨C to witness your challenges unaffected. We are your greatest supporters. Give her some time, Shiver."


    "Why thank you, Lord Quietus. I will."


    Vale pushed Shiver lightly.


    "I will say though¡­ living in the place in which your Fear awakened¡­ Utterly Insane."


    "I didn¡¯t like being beholden to it."


    "Thus the popsicles¡­ huh. There¡¯s a method to your madness."


    Shiver and Vale exchanged a smile. They sat in peace, enjoying the serenity of the academy¡¯s courtyard. Shiver¡¯s voice broke the silence.


    "There was something though."


    "Hmm?"


    "Something about this city that felt familiar to me, when we first caught a glance of it. It feels¡­ familiar to me."


    Vale¡¯s eyes widened at the revelation.


    "Not only that, my mother¡­ she looked similar to the academy¡¯s guardian."


    "Perhaps your parents are linked to this academy¡­ Your mother, a Fearshaper of ice. Maybe you lived here!"


    Shiver gave her a look, and squeezed her legs closer to her.


    "What? Surely it must have occurred to you."


    "It¡¯s has occurred to me. Who knows? And frankly who cares. Even if there are answers here, they abandoned me."


    The silence grew between them.


    "Well, if you ever decide to uncover this secret¡­ I¡¯ll help you."


    Vale¡¯s eyes glinted with mischief.


    "In exchange, help me take down my father."


    Shiver raised an eyebrow.


    "Who cares about equivalence... am I right? Deal. Oh, and Vale? There¡¯s something I want to show you. While our favourite lordling is still off in sleepyland."


    ---


    They stood before the golden gates leading to the Floors of Trepidation. Vale supposed her brother had gone onwards, in his own attempt to descend.


    "What did you want to show me?"


    Shiver placed her palm on the glowing ward, hovering before the gates.


    Then slipped through.

 Chapter 31: Purgatory

    The night before - in the dormitories


    Caledon settled into bed after moving the rest of the remaining skeletons into an abandoned room.


    He remembered watching Pevir struggle with the body he was carrying and giving the man a hand. They had agreed to Shiver¡¯s request to move them out of sight so they wouldn¡¯t trouble Vale. He winced at the memory of the ivory on his bare hands, cold to the touch. He still felt it lingering on his fingertips.


    They agreed to the task after glimpsing how distraught Vale had been, encountering her hallucination in the academy''s basement, crowded with dead students. Even if it had been a minor one from her description, none of them were any stranger to how their Fears twisted themselves in their minds to torment them.


    The previous room¡¯s occupiers had left behind much of their belongings. Caledon had pawed through them curiously, stumbling across a diary. Its author had a Fear of lightning, who spoke about her excitement to descend through Anhedonia to get to the ¡°real¡± stages. She spoke derisively of the first realm of Fear, and her impatience was palpable in her words. Caledon could empathise her.


    Anhedonia seemed to be a reflective stage of Fear. One that required Fearshapers to explore the inception of their torment, and to bring themselves to terms with it. The other stages she alluded to seemed to be a significant departure from it.


    The author of the journal hailed from the Jade Isles, and Caledon had found a talisman in her diary. He admired the design that featured on its surface, the artist¡¯s rendition bearing an inky style and seeming to depict something round in nature, with a sharp vertical and horizontal line originating from its centre.


    Apart from the diary, the remaining belongings were mundane and failed to catch his interest. Caledon let out a large yawn, and stretched. He gave Pevir an apologetic wave for disrupting his sleep, as the man settled into the bed next to his own.


    Strange, I feel like I¡¯m just getting more tired each time I rest. Is this something Fearshapers face after awakening? Father never mentioned it.


    He closed his eyes and slipped effortlessly into the dream.


    This time, as Caledon opened his eyes, he found himself in front of the family¡¯s greenhouse.


    Calling it a mere greenhouse was a bit of an understatement. His father had demolished the old fixture and was replacing it with an enormous structure of glass and metal. It stood newly completed, and was waiting to be filled with produce and all manner of plant life.


    Caledon glanced at his reflection in the glass and a boy of around twelve peered back at him. Then he felt the touch of cold metal in his hands. Glancing down, he noticed that he held a mechanism that he recognised, one that would allow gardeners to disperse water into a spray, to efficiently water produce.


    He turned to his father, who was standing on a table with a plan of a greenhouse draped over it. He vaguely remembered his father¡¯s reason for its sudden construction, but he never missed the chance to annoy him.


    "Father, explain to me again why this was necessary?"


    Highlord Berevan guffawed loudly, startling the servants nearby.


    "You sound like your mother, Cal! Do you have an issue with my gardening hobby?"


    "Is it really that necessary? House Flora sends us all the produce we could ever hope to gather, and so cheaply too!"


    Berevan¡¯s eyebrow twitched, and a shadow crossed his face.


    Looks like I¡¯ve stepped on his toes, uh oh...


    His father broke out into a wide grin as he leaned against the table.


    "And you don¡¯t believe I of all people could do better than the Highlady of the Dreadwood? You¡¯ve barely seen what I can do!"


    Moving with speed uncharacteristic of an elf his size, he scooped up Caledon easily and ruffled his hair. Caledon, who had undergone the familiar treatment too many times than he wished to admit, just stared flatly ahead.


    Aren¡¯t I a little too old for this now?


    "And what¡¯s this, I see you have a sprinkler in hand?"


    His father gently pried the sprinkler he just only realised that he held within his grip. He raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile.


    "You would dare innovate to surpass House Flora? What arrogance!"


    "That is the Brimstone way, is it not? Just look at you trying to surpass Highlady Solastra!"


    His father let out another hearty bellow of a laugh.


    Recently, he had noticed Viveria mimicking his father¡¯s laughter, if she kept it up, she would hardly attract a suitor when she was older, as mother warned. That only made her redouble her efforts in pinning it down.


    Hmm strange, where had that thought come from?


    "Indeed it is Cal."


    He tossed it back at him.


    "I¡¯m eager to see what you come up with."


    Despite his best efforts, he had not been able to innovate on the sprinkler system his father had arranged to install. With the power of hindsight, and his knowledge training under Sakar however, he was confident the answer would be different, where he stood today.


    Interrupting his thoughts, a lanky boy in his late teens strode up to them. He wore formal attire, that stood out starkly in contrast with his youthful hesitance.


    Silas, his father¡¯s newest recruit, who was to become House Brimstone¡¯s newest butler. Caledon recalled his jealousy of the boy, especially as his father invested significant amounts of time into the young butler¡¯s development ¨C no doubt instructing him in the ways of organisation... And craftsmanship.


    Oh¡­ I remember what day this was.


    It had been the day he had discovered Silas¡¯ secret. Silas and Berevan exchanged a few words, his uncertain face breaking out into a shy smile as his father cracked yet another joke.


    I already know what happens if I follow him. Perhaps, I could attempt to do something different.


    But as Caledon attempted to walk towards his house, his head began to swim.


    Ok¡­ that¡¯s weird.


    He frowned, as he puzzled over the nature of the dream he was experiencing. He had overheard Shiver speaking about her nightmares, and it was nothing like what he was experiencing.


    I wonder what the limits of this dream are. If I push hard, can I deviate from my memory, perhaps, to discover other secrets?


    Silas, who had finished his exchange with his father, inclined his head to Cal, and rushed off in a hurry. He remembered on the day, that Caledon had detected something in his body language that implied that he had something to hide.


    If there was anything that set off Caledon¡¯s curiosity, it was a good mystery.


    He followed Silas, as he had, all those days ago. He artfully avoided the butler¡¯s cursory glances over his shoulder. After all, it taken time for him to develop his perceptiveness and competence as Brimstone¡¯s foremost butler and confidant.


    By comparison, the Caledon that he faced had the benefit of years of well-worked curiosity.


    In other words, he had gotten much better at stalking.


    Silas opened a door into the manor¡¯s basement, which was forbidden to the children. As you might imagine, he had been caught and punished multiple times for attempting entry.


    Come now father, a forbidden door? You really should have known better.


    Even as an adult, his attempts to enter had been rebuffed swiftly by Silas himself. This time however, was an exception. He followed Silas down winding passageways to a room in the depths of the manor. Before the door could shut completely, Caledon deftly intercepted it with a practiced hand, and slipped inside.


    Silas¡¯ workshop was just as he remembered. It was filled with wooden puppets, many of them primitive in nature. They hung by silver strings, and to his trained eye, he could recognise errors in Silas¡¯ craftsmanship. Clumsy carving, hinges improperly installed, there were mistakes abound.


    Silas gasped as he noticed Caledon standing behind him.


    "My lord, you aren¡¯t supposed to be down here! Didn¡¯t your father forbid you from entry?"


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    Caledon shot him a confident smile, without a trace of guilt.


    "It¡¯s fair game if you didn¡¯t catch me, Silas! Hasn¡¯t father told you that a good butler should be perceptive? Alert at all times?"


    He had been a bit of brat when he was younger. Unfortunately for Silas, he still channeled his younger self effortlessly.


    Silas let out a long sigh.


    "Alright, alright. The jig is up, your father will be here any moment now."


    "Your puppets are beautiful."


    "W-what?"


    Silas looked at him in shock, as Caledon examined them with an academic rigour.


    "You have a real talent, I¡¯m jealous really."


    The words flowed naturally from his mouth. He had been jealous when he had first stumbled onto Silas¡¯ workshop ¨C though he hadn¡¯t admitted it back then. So, he said the words he wished he had back when he had first found his workshop. Back then, his youthful pride didn''t allow it. But his admiration had been as clear back then as it was now, as he saw Silas¡¯ puppets anew.


    Silas, whose shoulders had been taught with fear, relaxed at Caledon¡¯s words.


    He must have been worried about being judged.


    "T-thank you, my lord, you are too kind."


    Caledon gave his old friend, a warm smile. This had marked the beginning of their long friendship. It had been a little rockier in reality, due to his jealousy, but thankfully that hadn¡¯t lasted for long.


    The butler had given him countless tips, and had only enflamed his passion for craftsmanship.


    Which was right when Caledon noticed something, that perhaps he hadn¡¯t in the past.


    Unfamiliar puppets, which he hadn¡¯t noticed on his initial visit all those years ago, laid on the workbench. Perhaps he had noticed them, but had just chalked their nature up to Silas¡¯ skill. Or perhaps, the scolding his father had given him ¨C after he had received praise for his curiosity ¨C had caused the image to slip from his mind.


    Silas¡¯ pure mastery was on display as the puppets faces bore a stark remblance to living elves, displaying only the slightest deviations from the living. Caledon shook his head at the sight of it, his Fear revealing the older boy¡¯s talent which he had overlooked in his jealous haze when he had been younger.


    Even as young as he was, he was already a master? You¡¯re too humble, my friend.


    "You see, lord Caledon, I have a Fear of puppets. It is embarrassing to admit. Your father has been helping me... confront it."


    Caledon was snapped out of his reverie. Yes, this had been the moment he had discovered the young butler¡¯s Fear. As his father had told him and Viveria countless of times ¨C an elf should never be controlled by the object of their Fear ¨C for it had the potential to dictate their lives. Or judged for it.


    Right on cue, said Highlord Berevan strolled through the door to the workshop, a mixture of pride and reproach on his face. Caledon continued to utter the words he had, all those years ago. Even as envious as he had been of the fellow craftsman, younger Caledon at least had the humility to request it. Laying the foundations for their friendship.


    "Father, can Silas teach me?"


    His father froze, his intended admonishment interrupted. Slowly, his conflicted expression turned into one of unequivocal pride.


    "Of course, Cal. I am impressed, you are no doubt envious of Silas¡¯ skill, only an idiot would not be. But your humility impresses me, well done son!"


    He was once again picked up by his father, who beamed with pride. Silas, who had looked nervous and on edge, seemed to relax at the sight of the Highlord, and with Caledon¡¯s newfound acceptance. In hindsight, it was perhaps this discovery alone that had been the catalyst for their relationship, feelings of envy and jealousy cast aside in the interest of mastery.


    What a pleasant dream. I miss them


    ---


    Caledon rose with a groan, with the arrival of the morning. Not that there was anything but the conclusion of his dream to herald its arrival. He sat up to see Pevir, who was snacking on the food they had located in the preservation containers.


    "Lord Caledon, good morning!"


    "Please Archaeologist, do call me Caledon."


    "Only if you make sure not to drop the ¡°archaeologist¡±, makes me feel sophisticated."


    Pevir chuckled as he winked at him, his handsome moustache twitching as he bit into a sandwich.


    "It¡¯s miraculous that the food has lasted this long, it¡¯s certainly curious isn¡¯t it? One would have expected it to have faded away with time by now. It is yet another small mystery left to untangle."


    Pevir stuck his head into the inside of the pantry of minuscule construction, he eyed glowing script written on the inside, before finally tearing himself away from it.


    "When I have a moment, I must study them further."


    Caledon smiled. He admired the man¡¯s passion and curiosity.


    "By the way, Caledon, did you sleep well? You look a little-"


    Pevir¡¯s question was interrupted by Vale¡¯s screams. Caledon rushed for the door, throwing it open.


    Then he relaxed.


    "Shiver! Let me down this instant! What do you think you¡¯re doing!"


    Caledon and Pevir watched in a daze, as Shiver walked down the corridor with Vale in hand, or rather, hefted over her shoulder like one might carry a bag of sand.


    "Let go of me!"


    Caledon gaped as he watched the girl stride towards the common room, even managing a shift in her step. She briefly halted and met Caledon¡¯s eyes and motioned with her head.


    Ah, she wants to go to the pods. Figures she couldn¡¯t wait that long. No point beating around the bush any further.


    Letting out another long yawn and a stretch, Caledon followed suit.


    ---


    It wasn¡¯t long before Vale had been encased in her pod, after much protest. Caledon felt a pang of pity for her. Shiver had thrown her in like a glorified sack of fish, demonstrating excellent technique. Pevir chuckled at the sight, and motioned to Caledon.


    "Caledon, I¡¯ll continue my investigations of the academy down in the basement."


    With some concern, Caledon called out, as the lattice of black liquid started to form above his pod.


    "Are you sure? We still don¡¯t know what¡¯s down there¡­ Whatever killed those elves could still be roaming around."


    Pevir pushed his circular copper glasses, sending a flash of light into his eyes. Caledon recoiled. The man had really perfected the art of it.


    "Oh my boy, if danger does come my way, then I would have died doing what I loved the most. Besides, if there is anything lurking in this academy, we would all equally be in danger, no?"


    So much for sticking together to make sure he was safe.


    There was no stopping the man, and with a quick wave, Pevir departed from the group.


    Shortly afterwards, Shiver followed, leaving the room once Vale¡¯s pod had been sealed. Whistling and without any further explanation but a wink, she left them behind.


    Caledon just shook his head with a chuckle and regarded the sleek pod before him. As he settled into the pod, the familiar feminine voice rose to greet him.


    Fearshaper detected. Reserves at maximum capacity. Initiate nightmare induction?


    "Yes."


    Acknowledged. Prepare for nightmare induction.


    The instant Caledon uttered the words, he slipped back into his dream.


    So¡­ these pods allow us to revisit the nightmare with greater frequency. They also appear to¡­ seal us in to ensure there¡¯s no escape from the nightmare. I wonder¡­ what would happen if I don¡¯t find the answer in my dreams?


    The thought would have sent a chill down his spine, at a single, troubled thought.


    I wonder if there have been Fearshapers in Anhedonia that dreamed, never to wake again.


    ---


    Caledon smiled, as he watched a familiar scene in his dreams.


    He was seated in his father¡¯s study. The conjured image of their mother¡¯s old home, before she had married his father, glowed serenely on the wall.


    The warmth of the hearth relaxed him and set him at ease. He liked staring at the illusion, losing himself in its details. So had Viveria, when she had been younger. His father had shared stories of his sister attempting to lick it - no doubt in an attempt to uncover the secrets it held. Never let it be said that his sister wasn¡¯t enterprising.


    His father was at his desk, trying to conceal his sighs unsuccessfully as he parsed through a pile of paperwork. Caledon held a puppet that Silas had gifted him. It seemed like it hadn¡¯t occurred to either his father or Silas himself that rewarding his unrestrained curiosity may not have been the best idea.


    Caledon snapped out of his reverie, as he noticed his mother walk in.


    Appella Brimstone had a head of fiery red hair, a stark contrast to his father¡¯s dark brown. It matched the plumage of his father''s guide - Sale, the eternal phoenix. Caledon felt a pang of regret at the thought of her.


    While Viveria had inherited her mother''s shade of hair, he had taken after his father. She smiled at him warmly, walking up to him and ruffling his hair. The sparse lines and wrinkles that had come with age left his mother¡¯s youthful face unmarred. Caledon felt a chill, as a formless emotion welled in his gut. Then, he struggled to fight back tears that threatened to well in his eyes.


    Oh stop it, you just saw her a few days ago. Snap out of it Caledon.


    "What have you got there, Cal?"


    "Oh, Silas-"


    "Appella."


    His mother turned to Berevan, who had called out to her, interrupting him.


    "How was your trip?"


    Her mild curiosity at the puppet in Caledon¡¯s hands evaporated, as she recalled her journey to the Archcity of Dreams.


    "It was amazing Bevy, the sights, the food, the warmth. Getting out of this Feardamned cold was exactly what I needed. Not to mention, the Highlord of Dreams was very accommodating. It pays to have friends in high places hmm?"


    Caledon frowned. He noticed his father stiffen at his mother¡¯s entrance. His back abnormally straight, and his grip on his pen too tight, he heard the slightest of cracks as its structure bowed under his grip.


    What was that?


    As quick as the tension appeared, it was gone.


    "The Highlord you say? He saw to you personally?"


    "He did. As you can imagine, awakening as a Fearshaper was quite stressful, but Highlord Saravagan ensured that I was very well taken care of. Oh my, and the food Berevan it was delicious. We must travel there together."


    His father had told him mother journeyed to the Archcity of Dreams to awaken as a Fearshaper. Why was father so tense?


    His mother laughed and wrapped her arm around his father¡¯s shoulders, planting a kiss on his cheek. Caledon¡¯s worries melted away after a moment.


    I must be imagining things. Perhaps it''s unsurprising, I¡¯m dreaming after all.


    He thought back to his memory of the day, it had been entirely ordinary, nothing out of place.


    "Of course, dear, I would be delighted to go there with you."


    His mother turned back to smile at Caledon, her eyes found the puppet in his arms.


    "Cal, let me catch up with your mother. Go run along and check on Vivy, if someone doesn¡¯t keep an eye on her, we may not have a city left to manage."


    Caledon chuckled internally as he headed to the door, exiting his father¡¯s study.


    It was so nice to see them. I miss them. I don¡¯t think going out on missions to secret Archcities is my cup of tea. I¡¯ll be happy to be home soon.


    He smiled, as another pleasant dream came to an-

 Chapter 32: Fear of ----------

    Caledon smiled, as he watched a familiar scene in his night-


    His heart skipped a beat, as he took in his father¡¯s study before him, Silas¡¯ wooden puppet in his arms.


    The dream, I¡¯m back where I was just a moment ago.


    His father, hard at work at his desk, trudging through his mountain of paperwork at a snail¡¯s pace.


    Surely I didn¡¯t imagine it. Am I stuck in a loop? Is it the nightmare pod?


    Caledon attempted to mentally will his way out of the nightmare. All his efforts were met with was a dull headache.


    Well, that¡¯s just great.


    His thoughts were in flurry, desperately trying to unravel the mystery of the repeating dream.


    Of all the dreams I¡¯ve encountered, why this one?


    Caledon took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself.


    I¡¯ve experienced three in total. Sitting down in the living hall with Vivy and father, the discovery of Silas¡¯ workshop, and this one. What makes this diff-


    Appella Brimstone entered the room.


    He caught a subtle tightening around his father¡¯s eyes, a sudden hardness. He had noticed it before, but brushed it off. Now, his vigilance brought his father¡¯s tension to light.


    I didn¡¯t imagine it. What¡¯s going on?


    A piercing pain blossomed from his temple, and he recoiled and let out a soft gasp.


    "¡®Are you alright Caledon dear?"


    His mother gently laid her hands on his shoulders. The formless emotion returned. This time, with the benefit of hindsight, he glimpsed his father¡¯s tension, plain to see.


    Something¡¯s wrong, what about mother-


    MOTHER.


    Appella, who had planted a kiss on his father¡¯s cheek and wrapped her hand around his shoulders, met his eyes silently, and a smile grew on her face.


    It widened, to an uncanny degree, as she locked gazes with him. His father, carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.


    Caledon pedaled backwards, toppling over the chair and falling to the ground.


    In a flash, his mother¡¯s gaze had returned to normal, and his parents looked at him in concern.


    "Are you alright Caledon? What happened? Is something wrong?"


    Caledon withdrew from them, his heart beating out of his chest. That was the moment his Fear had been triggered. His mother¡¯s return from the Archcity of Dreams. Something¡­ had changed.


    I¡¯ve forgotten. My mother was there, each and every time.


    The dream shifted before him, as if to validate his realisation. The very first dream that he had, the night in the infirmary. He was in the manor¡¯s living room once more, watching Vivy fight an invisible foe precariously on her chair.


    This time, there was a single difference. Appella swept into the hall. A stern voice rang out, bringing an end to the comfortable silence.


    "Viveria, get down from there this instant. You won¡¯t be fighting anyone on a chair."


    "But mother, you never know what might happen! What if we¡¯re accosted by assas-"


    "Viveria Brimstone the only threat of assassination will come from me if you don¡¯t get down from there this instant. Manners young lady!"


    Appella Brimstone¡¯s words landed like a whip. Even his impetuous sister bowed before her ire. Viveria pouted as she sat in her chair and sheathed her sword. She gave Caledon a grumpy nod seeing him approach.


    "Caledon."


    He flinched, as she bore the steel in her tone.


    "You are her older brother. You should know better. It is your responsibility as much as mine to care for your sister, do you understand me?"


    Tears fell unbidden from his eyes. They were harsh words, but they were his mother¡¯s. It had been so long, since he had heard her words.


    "You disappoint, elf. But it seems you finally understand."


    An unfamiliar voice reverberated through his skull. It was deep and authoritative in its baritone. Smooth, as it poured directly into his mind.


    Caledon ignored it.


    The scene changed again, to the scene of the second dream. This time, he was outside the greenhouse, as his father teased him about the fruitlessness of his desire to revolutionise its sprinkler system.


    In response to his father¡¯s efforts to get a rise out of him, he had forgotten what had happened next.


    "Caledon dear, do not pay any attention to this oaf¡¯s words."


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    "An oaf, my love? you wound me."


    "Berevan Brimstone, ¡°Herald of the Eternal Phoenix¡± they say. Herald my ass."


    "Heralded your ass, I did-"


    His father attempted, and failed to dodge a slap from his mother. She turned to him to stare with firm and strict eyes.


    "Caledon Brimstone. Have I taught you to be limited by anyone? Let alone your idiot father. I do not care if House Flora are the foremost producers of elven crops, there is nothing holding you back from innovating and improving. Do not listen to your father¡¯s drivel, do you understand me?"


    His father smiled, and her stern words reassured him more than anyone else had ever been capable of. They were blunt, and they did not carry the kindness that his father so often wrapped his own words in.


    Appella Brimstone spoke true. When she disapproved, it came like a dagger in the chest. When she reassured¡­


    Well¡­ he had never ceased in his efforts to become a greater craftsman. Then, the dream shifted to when he had been caught in Silas¡¯ workshop, in the manor¡¯s basement. When he had returned to the manor, he had been met by his mother once more.


    "Caledon Brimstone. It is dangerous to be wandering around unchaperoned in the basement. Your father and Sakar work on new projects, and if you aren¡¯t careful and stumble upon them, I might be left with ash for my only beloved son. Now you wouldn¡¯t want that to happen would you?"


    The threat implicit in his mother¡¯s statement was that if he turned to ash due to his own negligence, his mother would drag him from the dust to give him a piece of her mind. A prospect more terrifying than being turned into dust in the first place.


    "Finally done running from the truth? Coward."


    "Mother."


    Caledon wept, as he gripped at his mother¡¯s arms. They were warm, inviting. For he knew, that the strict standards to which she held him, her stern demeanour, ensuring that he did the right thing, and nothing less, were the evidence of her love for him.


    So when had things changed?


    The nightmare, for he finally understood that it was no pleasant dream, shifted back to the moment in his father¡¯s study.


    Father¡¯s tension when greeting mother. There was no one he was more at ease around.


    Something had changed, that day in the study. Before the hearth. Enveloped in the warmth of his parents, his home.


    When his mother had returned from the Archcity of Dreams.


    It had been written plain on his father¡¯s face. Something discomforted him. I must have realised it too¡­ at least subconsciously. This was the moment my Fear awakened.


    Caledon shook, as he fought to confront the truth, as he struggled to acknowledge the source and shape of his Fear.


    "Something happened to you, mother. You were never the same."


    The change, it had been a gradual thing. The way in which his mother treated Viveria and him, shifted. She grew apathetic to their upbringing, their bearing, their character. She drew closer to their father, as if smitten, like a young, jealous love. His mother¡¯s reaction to his departure on the mission was just another example of this. Somewhere along the line, it was as if she had stopped caring.


    Something must have happened to have caused this.


    "Finally, you arrive at the truth of your dreams."


    Panic gripped him, his chest constricting as he struggled to take in new breaths.


    What had happened to her?


    Sobs wracked Caledon¡¯s sizeable frame, and he fell to his knees.


    "You vehemently rejected your Fear, refusing to confront it. Tell me, dunce. What is the shape of your Fear?"


    And Caledon understood. His lips parted amidst his sobs, in confession.


    "It is of comfort¡­"


    "A shallow unders-"


    "It is of comfort, perverted. Corruption. Something changed my mother, in the Archcity of Dreams. Something my father knew about. Something that made him tense, despairing."


    He recalled, how his parents¡¯ relationship had rapidly deteriorated since his mother¡¯s return, and her change in its nature. He had refused to believe it.


    He clenched his fists, as he finally faced his Fear that had grown, insidiously, unacknowledged, within him since childhood. That had twisted his truest memories of his with the passing of time. He now realised, that his Appella Brimstone, would never have abandoned him. That was the strength, and nature of her love.


    Why had he never confronted that little iota of doubt that arose at times? The little voice that told him to question. His curiosity, had failed him when he needed it the most.


    He had been wilfully blind, afraid of what his prying would reveal. He would rather live a lie, and pretend, that nothing had ever changed.


    His Fear of comfort? Of the hearth?


    His guide had been right. That had been a shallow assumption he had made, up until this moment ¨C that his Fear being triggered in moments of comfort made comfort its object.


    What he truly feared, was comfort that could not be trusted. A hearth, that burned instead of nurtured.


    Corruption, was the essence of his Fear. Born from the corruption that had undoubtably befallen his mother.


    His eyes burned with rage, as the secret, the discrepancy, finally revealed itself to him.


    "Perhaps there is hope for you yet, Fearshaper of corruption. There is little to admire, but your resolve is clear."


    He needed to find answers. What had happened to his mother? Why had his father concealed it from him? Why hadn¡¯t his father been surprised by her change?


    "You¡¯re my guide. What is your name?"


    "That, you will have to earn. Let us see if you manage it."


    ---


    As he climbed out of the pod, feeling the sensation of something, circling within his body, he noticed that he was alone in the room. The pods were exposed to the air, with no sign of any black lattices.


    "Lucky last¡­ I wonder where they¡¯ve gone?"


    Caledon walked out into the hallway, to find Vale seated at the foot of the stairs leading up to the gates sealing away the Floors of Trepidation.


    The girl looked utterly dejected, her shoulders slumped.


    "Hey Vale¡­ are you alright? Did something happen?"


    She stared up at him, and instead of fear or concern, he saw annoyance. Caledon relaxed, Shiver had surely done something to piss her off.


    "That crazy orphan has done it again."


    "What did she do this time?"


    "Oh, not much¡­"


    She pointed to the gates behind her with a thumb.


    "You know¡­ walking through to the Floors of Trepidation. Before descending from Anhedonia."


    Vale looked like she was midway between shouting in frustration and breaking down into tears.


    "First, she slips through the cliffside, miraculously finding the Archcity, now this?"


    Vale sniffed, her eyes downcast.


    "We''re never going to hear the end of it."

 Chapter 33: Spy (Interlude)

    Prior to Shiver¡¯s entry to the Floors of Trepidation


    Triol Revenant walked the Floors of Trepidation.


    Past the golden gates, leading into the bowels of the academy, were some of the floors to greater stages.


    Anhedonia was only the beginning, where his sister and her companions languished.


    He had descended to Trepidation, the second stage of Fear.


    The Floors of Delirium, Dread, and Serenity were beyond him.


    In the dark hallway before him, were innumerable doors of varying construction. He walked into one. Then the next. Similar to the rooms of descension in the Floors of Anhedonia, each contained a different biome.


    The doorway he had chosen led to a snowy mountain. He stared down at what could have been lifted from the Winterlands itself.


    It was filled with corpses.


    Not all were visible to the eye, yet his Fear of death sang, resonating with them around him. Not the corpses of elves, but of creatures. Of every conceivable type. Even those that had not been glimpsed in an age.


    His father had been right, after all. True to his words the bounty beyond Anhedonia that awaited him in the academy was nowhere to be found. The Floors of Trepidation were useless to him, just as they were to any other Fearshaper at his stage in their descension.


    All that was left were shells, empty remnants.


    In the academy¡¯s prime, he could only begin to imagine the flexibility that would have been afforded to Fearshapers in Trepidation. His thoughts turned to the countless biomes that had been contained in the hall. Invocations of every conceivable type would have been accessible to them. Countless unique interactions could have been discovered, studied and replicated.


    As Triol invoked his Fear, he felt his Fearcore ignite. He could feel something running through his veins, that empowered him.


    Alarum.


    That was the term his father had used. Supposedly it was what Fearshapers accumulated from Trepidation passively, not of active use to them. The nature of the descent through Trepidation supplied Fearshapers with the requisite amount to support their growth. In Delirium onwards, it played a crucial role, supposedly. Regrettably, his father had failed to elaborate upon its precise nature.


    As a Fearshaper early in his descent, Triol had limited invocations to call upon. His descent through Anhedonia had been uneventful, and he had descended just as the Academy had intended. Or so his father had said.


    He watched as he released his invocation of Fear, his two undead wolves falling to the ground, arriving at their final rest in the snow.


    His hands shook as he contemplated the task before him.


    Not all beasts were equal. Triol could make animals such as wolves heed his command with ease. Larger creatures were at the limit of his capabilities. If they broke free from his control, he could be endangered.


    He gazed at skeletons of two immense winterlions, legends that prowled the Verscallian Peaks in their heyday. Unparalleled predators, now extinct. Barring rumours of their presence in the Dreadwood, of course - but practically every extinct creature was said to persist, in the Archcity of Life.


    Triol laid his hand on the skull of the closest winterlion.


    Although Triol¡¯s own Fear had been triggered from witnessing the death of his mother, his influence over death had extended towards beasts.


    His guide, Silvanis, was a reflection of the animalistic nature of his Fear.


    Triol uttered the invocation he had received upon his descent, bringing his Fear into reality.


    [Bestial subservience]


    He felt his Fear run through him, his alarum struggling to give effect to his will, to animate the gargantuan beast.


    His Fearshaping was unique amongst his siblings. They looked down on him, as his command over death appeared to be relegated to creatures, beings without sentience. His father certainly had no such arbitrary limitation, and he brought beast and elf alike under his command in droves.


    Then again, his father had likely reached Serenity years ago. He stood as a Fearshaper of death at the height of his powers.


    How much control did one have over the nature of their Fearshaping? Or would he be relegated to the bodies of beasts for his entire path?


    He believed it was an arbitrary distinction, and his brother, Safnir, had laughed at that when he had expressed his frustration. The Fear of death had many manifestations, reflected in the nature of a Fearshaper¡¯s powers.


    His sister Savagery¡¯s invocations allowed her to resist death. She could avoid fatal wounds, and even dismemberment or disease was no impediment to her. Of his siblings, she had been the most forthcoming in making an impression on him. To ensure that he knew his place.


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    His brother Safnir, the eldest, took after their father. Capable of raising hordes of undead to do his bidding. Simple and effective ¨C it only grew more terrifying when it was applied at scale.


    Somnolence was a mystery. She never spoke to him, let alone disclosed the nature of her Fearshaping. There was no doubt though, that when Triol had seen her strolling about Soulhaven, he had occasionally felt his heartbeat¡­ flicker.


    He wondered what the shape of Vale¡¯s Fear would take.


    As for Dawn?


    He gritted his teeth at the feelings of dread and guilt that arose at the thought of her.


    Yet a glimmer of relief washed over him as the winterlion finally rose. His invocation took hold. He sighed internally in relief.


    Its head angled towards him awkwardly. The winterlion took a step towards him.


    Triol leapt out of the way as it lunged forward, attempting to impale him with its fangs. The winterlion collapsed into the snow, where it laid unmoving once again.


    He heard a familiar chittering. He turned to see his guide, Silvanis, mocking him with her laughter.


    His eyes grew downcast at his failure. Shiver, that girl¡­


    Perhaps she was right after all.


    About him.


    And Vale.


    Silvanis¡¯ grating laughter came to an abrupt halt. His gaze rose.


    The winterlion stood upright. Silently watching him. Prowling. Striding with the ease and grace it had once possessed in life. Then, Triol felt his heartbeat begin to slow to a crawl, the feeling of pinpricks washing over his extremities.


    He knelt.


    It paced before him, free from the awkwardness and irregularities that had coloured its movements while under his control. It yawned, its massive fangs drooping from the roof of its mouth, as if given a new lease on life.


    Pinpricks of void burned from its eye sockets as its gaze found him. Triol mentally braced for his father¡¯s ridicule, but none of it came. Instead, his father posed a sincere question.


    "Triol, tell me of Caledon Brimstone. What is the shape of his Fear?"


    He had never heard his father so on edge before, hanging on Triol¡¯s every word. He felt the irrational urge to tell him to bury himself in one of Soulhaven¡¯s graves. But the outcome he threatened would await him if his composure broke now.


    For all that he despised his father, he had done just as he instructed. Left his sister and her companions to their descent unimpeded, and he had spied on the young Brimstone. His Fearshaping trivialised reconnaissance and it had been an easy task to track them. While the Academy¡¯s Terror had forbidden unsanctioned violence, restrictions weren¡¯t imposed on other activities. All it took was a single dead insect or rodent and their secrets were his for the taking.


    "The boy holds a torch, yet it barely bears a flame. He has difficulty sleeping, despite his nightmares seeming to take the form of pleasant dreams. His condition worsens by the day, growing more tired. I can¡¯t tell you precisely what the nature of his Fear is¡­ but I don¡¯t believe it¡¯s a conventional Fear of flame-"


    Laughter greeted him. It wasn¡¯t a dramatic, ruthless thing, but an alien emotion in his father¡¯s voice.


    Pure unadulterated glee.


    He watched astounded as his father hiccuped. What had he delivered in his meagre words, for the Deathbringer to have cast away his dignity? Not that he was concerned of Triol¡¯s expression of him.


    What¡­ in Insanity.


    Triol stared with wide eyes at the winterlion, as Vetrian¡¯s laughter across the empty, snowy plans.


    "Fate is such a cruel thing. Triol. Thank you. To think that each and every one of her children would be such a blessing to me, oh Asale. You have given me¡­ hope, my son."


    Triol began to shake, his Phobia forming in his hands unbidden. He wielded a long, white shepard¡¯s crook, utterly ineffective in close combat, but a symbol of his Fear nonetheless.


    Then, the winterlion crept forward, locking its eyes with his own. Triol stared into the abyss as it whispered back to him.


    "You must be frustrated, your best efforts amounting to naught."


    His father¡¯s voice echoed from the maw of the winterlion before him.


    His head still rang from Shiver¡¯s words to him. He had vainly attempted to search the other Floors for anything that would help him descend. He had already searched the Floors of Trepidation once before, when he had initially descended to Anhedonia.


    On his second visit, his current one, the same scene had awaited him. His meagre plan, was to turn the disadvantage against him, seeing hope in the dead bodies of the creatures that lay in the biomes.


    His father laughed. A hollow laugh, that rung out across the empty frozen landscape beyond him.


    "This is a feeling that countless Fearshapers share. The descent into power is fraught with¡­ frustration. Futility. Sacrifices must be made for advancement, the only question, is whether you are willing, Triol."


    Triol squeezed his fists in frustration, as he knelt before the winterlion.


    "I propose¡­ to give you a gift, for the happiness you have brought me. Are you willing to accept it?"


    How long would he languish in stagnation? Seeing his sisters being manipulated at the whims of their father. Yet he had no other choice. He did not find salvation, even in this academy of legends. His shoulders slumped.


    "I am, father."


    Laughter followed.


    "Then I must introduce you to a dear friend of mine, son. The pieces draw together. An opportunity reveals itself - to rid myself of a thorn in my side, and to part the clouds which conceal the stars ¨C in one fell swoop. You have given me hope. An ironic twist of fate, that will lodge a seed of distrust that will pave my very path."


    His father erupted into soft laughter.


    "I must introduce you to a dear friend of mine, son. Who will grant you your wish, and make you a true Fearshaper. I wonder¡­ did you notice him on your journey?"


    Triol¡¯s eyes widened as the space before him distorted before his very eyes.


    A strange¡­ figure stood before him. The usual descriptors failed him, for it was no elf.


    It walked on elongated limbs, legs too long to belong to any of Triol¡¯s own kind. It was hunched, and towered over him, instilling Triol with a sense of deep-seated Fear.


    Wait.


    His eyes widened.


    Impossible.


    The creature¡¯s jaw widened impossibly, to reveal an endless maw of black teeth. The world around him faded as he was enveloped in them.

 Chapter 34: Floors of Trepidation

    Shiver descended into the Floors of Trepidation.


    Vale had initially been reluctant to let her wander into the darkness beyond, but she had eventually caved under Shiver¡¯s insistence. Especially when Shiver had mentioned their two alternatives: tackling the second stage, ¡°embracement¡± immediately and leaving the Brimstone behind, or allowing her to explore which would buy him some time.


    Shiver didn¡¯t know what to make of the man. The son of Berevan Brimstone, so convinced that his father could do no harm. In any case, his presence had helped her persuade Vale to let her explore.


    "What do you think we¡¯ll find in this place, Popsicle? Perhaps we¡¯ll learn about the later stages of Fear? Not to mention¡­ I wonder how I was able to pass through that barrier."


    "Shiver¡­ you still haven¡¯t descended to Trepidation! I don¡¯t know how you were able to pass through, you still haven¡¯t formed your Fearcore!"


    Shiver descended into the darkness of the corridor blocked by the ward, beyond the golden gates. Vale had been reluctant to let her go on ahead, but she had eventually caved under Shiver¡¯s insistence.


    Icey was right. She hadn¡¯t completed the second step of Anhedonia - embracement, which created a Fearshaper¡¯s Fearcore and marked the beginning of their journey into Trepidation, the next stage of Fear.


    She still needed to visit the Rooms of Descension in the Floors of Anhedonia to do so. Those strange rooms filled with countless different objects of Fear.


    She eventually reached a flight of stairs leading down into another corridor. If there was one valid concern that Vale had, it was the prospect of Shiver encountering her brother. Shiver was certain that after her little chat with him, he had wandered off in the direction of the Floors of Trepidation, which he should have been able to access.


    I¡¯ll need to be careful, even with the academy¡¯s restrictions.


    Unsanctioned violence wasn¡¯t permitted, but if the Fearshaper managed to trap her in some way, or find some workaround to the rule, she would be in big trouble - at least until Vale and Caledon descended.


    As Shiver reached the bottom of the flight of stairs, she took in the view before her. She stood at the entrance to a long corridor, filled with doors on either side of it. She caught a glimpse of a vast room at the end of the corridor.


    Each door that lined the hallway was of a different make and material. She halted before one that induced a familiar sensation of frost. The material the door was cast from reminded her of the Verscallian Peaks, seemingly built from the dark grey stone of the landscape that enveloped Brimstone. She saw snow collect at the door¡¯s edges, and her hand grew cold as it hovered over the handle.


    Shiver passed her gaze over other doors. One was wrought from black ash with glowing streaks of ember running through it, radiating heat. Yet another was cast from a material the colour of anthracite that appeared to be sparking.


    Countless other such doors lined the corridor before her.


    Shiver felt her heart thunder in her chest, as her hand closed around the handle of the door of cold. She pushed it open, and walked through the doorway.


    Before her, lay a vast sweeping landscape encased in snow. Her eyes widened as they passed what could have been a section of the Verscallian Peaks, marked by familiar dark grey mountainous terrain and snow.


    This¡­ should be impossible. Then again¡­ so are those Rooms of Descension. Just on a whole other scale.


    How a door could hide such a vast landscape was a mystery to her. Her thoughts returned to the temple in which she had awakened, far larger on the inside than it had been from the exterior.


    The air was still, and unlike when she was out in the Peaks, she was not met with cold wind that brought tears to her eyes. Yet, the bite of frost still reached her, and she thought she could hear the echoes of familiar laughter.


    Her own.


    Casting a glance around her, Shiver¡¯s eyes were like steel. However, her shade was nowhere to be seen. A haunting reminder of her Fear that she had enjoyed brief relief from since entering the academy, hovering at the edges of her consciousness.


    "Are you alright Shiver?"


    She turned to regard her guide perched on her shoulder.


    "Not surprised by the landscape? Who knew the academy had doors that lead to cross-sections of other places."


    "..."


    The ice cube lay silent.


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    "I¡¯m fine, Icey. Really."


    Shiver smiled slightly, as her gaze returned to the snowy landscape that she had concluded was utterly deserted. She pressed further into the snow, and her careful gaze picked up on not a single living creature, or otherwise.


    "What do you think of this place? It¡¯s empty."


    After a brief moment of silence, she eventually spoke up.


    "Why don¡¯t we check some of the other doorways? Maybe we¡¯ll find something."


    Obliging, Shiver headed towards the hole in reality that glowed from where she had descended the mountain, peaking back into the academy. The next door she tried seemed to have been cast from sandstone. It had a grainy texture, and Shiver could feel the warmth on her hand as she pushed it open.


    She stood in a vast sandstone tomb.


    Idle particles of dust shone in sunlight filtering through from a square opening in the room. Murals and carvings covered the walls of the tomb, extending around its length. She saw the statue of a male elf extending outwards from one of the walls, its hand extended, with shifting black sand floating above his palm.


    Icey broke the silence with a soft whisper.


    "Shiver¡­ I think it¡¯s making a tribute to him."


    "A Fearshaper of sands."


    Shiver felt a jolt like lightning running wash over her as she whispered the words, her hair standing on hand. A sight she never thought she would glimpse in her lifetime.


    How big the world must have been, when Fearshapers roamed it freely. What wonders would they have created¡­ if this academy is anything to go by.


    Then, her gaze fell on the inhabitants of the room. Unlike the cross-section of the winterlands, plenty still remained.


    Skeletons of creatures long passed.


    "Woah."


    As she walked onwards, she crouched to examine the husk of an insect, half her own height. It was a large beetle, with a burnished, shiny exterior. At least, that was what the hints of its husk alluded towards.


    "Avalkin¡¯s nuts. Wouldn¡¯t want to fight something like that. Or maybe I would."


    Then, her breath caught as her eyes fell on what lay in the very centre of the vast tomb. There was a gaping hole in the sand, into which sand gradually fell into like an endless waterfall. There was a skull at least three times her height that rested at the lip of the void, its serpentine body drooping downwards into a vast hole in the snake below. It was the largest creature she had ever seen, a gigantic serpent.


    Like the other creatures around it¡­ dead. Having found their final rest.


    Suddenly, Shiver was overcome with the visceral temptation to tear open as many doors as she could manage, to see what lay beyond them. Reason tempered her temptation, as her mind fell on Lord Semille and Caledon. She couldn¡¯t leave Vale alone for too much longer.


    "Let¡¯s keep going. Just one more."


    Shiver walked through the corridor, which opened up into a vast rectangular room sporting multiple floors and corridors.


    "Avalkin¡¯s nuts."


    She halted before a door that seemed to have been made from the ocean floor. She gently ran her fingers over shells and coral that sunk into the rocky surface.


    "Shiver¡­ I¡­ kind of want to know what¡¯s behind this one. Please?"


    Shiver let out a small smirk at her Popsicle¡¯s words, usually the voice of reason.


    "I just so happen to share that opinion, Popsicle. The last door before we move on."


    Icey gasped.


    "Move on?"


    Shiver¡¯s cerulean eyes glowed with mischief.


    "Of course! You didn¡¯t think I¡¯d stop at the Floors of Trepidation, did you?"


    Her palm was met with moisture as she pushed open the door and emerged into-


    A vast ocean.


    Shiver gazed up at the surface of the water in the distance and the light that filtered gently through the surface. She estimated the distance between between where she floated and the surface of the water being at least the height of one or two of the towers that loomed over the Archcity of Fear.


    She had heard fishermen warn of the crushing depths of the ocean - yet, she was unharmed where she swam. Well¡­ her presence there defied all reason, seeing as she wasn¡¯t currently drowning.


    "S-shiver¡­ I want to go back¡­"


    Shiver broke her gaze away from the rippling surface of the water, and instead turned it towards its depths, below her, encased in darkness.


    Then her eyes narrowed, as she caught a glance of something that peeked out of the darkness. Ivory, the colour of bone which the sunlight just managed to reach. As she narrowed her eyes, and strained to latch on to what lay there. She traced its entire length.


    A vast tentacle, unadorned by flesh lay exposed on the ocean floor. No doubt accompanied by the corpses of the other creatures that had lived in this strange world.


    Shiver stepped back out of the doorway, grinning when she realised that she wasn¡¯t dripping wet.


    "All of them are dead¡­ strangely, the first door we entered was empty, as far as I could see. Even of corpses."


    Then Shiver¡¯s eyes were drawn to a gate at the end of another corridor beyond her. Similar to the one that marked the entry to the Floors of Trepidation. Crossing the floor, and sparing a passing glance at the levels above her, she came to halt before it, reading the sign displayed by its side.


    Floors of Delirium.


    "Shall we give it a shot, Popsicle?"


    She held her breath as she laid her hand on the glowing ward.


    Feeling no resistance as she slipped right through it, passing through the gate.


    "That¡¯s cheating!"


    "What are you going to do about it hmm? If you rat me out to a teacher, I¡¯ll bully you."


    "B-but! You already bully me!"


    Shiver smirked.


    Breaking the rules had never been so satisfying.

 Chapter 35: Floors of Delirium

    Shiver walked through another corridor which led to the Floors of Delirium, having successfully passed through the second ward guarding the entryway.


    "All those dead creatures¡­"


    "Descending through Trepidation must have something to do with them."


    Shiver¡¯s eyes glinted as she glanced at her guide.


    "You spoke of a Fearcore. Maybe we have to kill them and suck them right in."


    "Shiver!"


    "What? Surely you were thinking it as well? Do you have any further insights, Popsicle?"


    Her guide quailed and slowly retreated from her gaze, where she was perched on her shoulder.


    "I-I don¡¯t know what lies ahead for you in Trepidation¡­ at least not yet."


    "I have to ask."


    "Yes, Shiver?"


    "How did you know what we needed to do to descend through Anhedonia? Did you know, as soon as you awakened?"


    Icey paused, seemingly puzzling the question.


    "I think¡­ I did. Lord Quietus experienced something similar. There are facts about Fearshaping and Elucidor that we were granted when we were¡­ ¡°born¡±. It explains how Quietus knew about the nightviper infecting Pevir when I spoke of it to him. The knowledge of how to descend through Anhedonia came with it."


    "Then how did you know about this academy, when Quietus didn¡¯t? That the guardian would trap us here. That we wouldn¡¯t be able to leave until we descended through Anhedonia?"


    "Shiver¡­"


    "What did I tell you about Popsicles?"


    "They lie."


    "Then are you going to allow yourself to be reduced to one?"


    Icey fell silent, not rising to Shiver¡¯s taunts. She would have to change tack.


    "You¡¯re stuck with me on this Fearshaping journey whether you like it or not. It¡¯s best if we¡¯re honest with each other. Otherwise, if we don¡¯t trust one another, we aren¡¯t going to get very far, are we?"


    It was unfair of her to say so. Shiver knew, that so far, everything her guide had done had been in her best interests. She had suffered through torture, the burning venom of that undead eel, just to give them a chance at escape.


    Shiver not only had concerns about what her guide was withholding from them. She was also concerned that the experience would have scarred Icey in some way.


    After all, it took one to know one. And Shiver was an expert in both regards.


    Icey¡¯s voice emerged as a whisper.


    "Then you¡¯ll just have to distrust me."


    Shiver almost tripped over herself as she continued her passage forward.


    Hold on now¡­ I wasn¡¯t expecting that.


    She watched as Icey glided down from her shoulder, and shot forwards into the darkness. Shiver cursed as she broke out into a run, finally emerging from the end of the corridor.


    The Floors of Delirium were¡­ nothing like she expected.


    Shiver had suspicions about what awaited them in the third stage of Fear, Delirium. From the name of it, she assumed that it presented more of a ¡°mental¡± challenge than the others. Something to do with their nightmares perhaps?


    In all of Icey¡¯s ¡°contextual¡± wisdom, she recalled that her guide had stated that the importance of nightmares differed based on the stage of Fear they languished in. From the stages of Fear that the academy had clued them in to, they were as such:


    Anhedonia


    Trepidation


    Delirium


    Dread


    Serenity


    Five stages of Fear for Fearshapers to progress through before they were released from the Fears that cursed them. A journey that brought with it risk and power in equal measure.


    So what then, would the Floors of Delirium have looked like?


    What Shiver wasn¡¯t expecting, was what looked like a Feardamned school grounds. An academy within an academy. She frowned, her mind racing with theories.


    Shiver followed a path to a large fountain, bordered on either side with an overgrown lawn of grass. Wildflowers emerged from the weeds, from between the cracks of the pavement on which she walked.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Shiver halted before the fountain, carved in the likeness of a male elf. He bore the grey robes of the academy that they had found on the copses. He was seated in a serene pose of meditation, bringing to Shiver the image of those elves of the Jade Isles with their peculiar culture.


    Walking around the fountain, she saw Icey standing still before the immense grounds that unfolded before them. She jolted in surprise as Shiver gently picked her up and placed her on her shoulder. Shiver gave her guide a soft smile.


    "It¡¯s strange, don¡¯t you think? There were some dormitories for Fearshapers in Anhedonia. But none in the Floors of Trepidation. But nothing like this. It¡¯s almost as if the true academy lies here."


    Shiver walked the silent grounds, and her eyes widened as she came upon a strange sight.


    A battlegrounds?


    No¡­ an arena.


    Towering grandstands bordered it on either end, capable of housing thousands of elves. The arena itself was paved in wide squares of stone, perhaps delineating the boundaries of the fights.


    How could she tell it was an arena? That was betrayed, by its appearance. Cracked and worn, Shiver noticed the telltale of fights between Fearshapers. Drawing closer to the stone, she sought to infer the nature of-


    One of the stone slabs was shattered evenly, cracks spidering out in uniform, orderly intervals. The mere impact at a single point would not have created such a pattern. It was¡­


    Unnatural.


    Another had plant growth blossoming forth from its cracks, beautiful roses emerging from amongst deadly thorns that had the benefit of time to truly blossom.


    Shiver stared, as she glimpsed the remains of a slab that seemed to have melted. The very middle of the immense square slab on which the fight was sunken inwards, creating a small crater.


    She proceeded forward, noticing that while some of the slabs contained the signs of fights long passed, many of them were untainted, having presumably been replaced. She stepped on once such slab, unmarked by damage.


    "Shit!"


    "Shiver! Are you alright?"


    Shiver let out a yell as it fell to dust around her. She stared unblinkingly at the immense stone slab that had just turned into dust before her very eyes. She felt a chill come overcome her.


    Fearshaper.


    A word that the orphan girl had not paid much attention to, in her life in Brimstone. The term from a world so far away from her. For all the mystique and power they supposedly possessed, they were not especially prevalent or pervasive in elven society, bar perhaps, the Highlords and Highladies of the Archcities.


    Shiver smiled, as she felt a tinge of regret at being born at an inopportune time.


    I know that I¡¯ve thought it before¡­ But this¡­


    She shook her head.


    "What do you think it would have been like, Icey? Being here in its glory days? Surrounded by other elves descending into the depths of their Fears, calling it into reality and twisting it to their will?"


    The little ice cube regained some of her vigor.


    "It would have been¡­ fun!"


    Shiver let out a laugh. Then her expression twisted, as she was reminded why she walked the floor. The faces of the people she loved most, ending a casual dream.


    Then she brightened.


    "We shouldn¡¯t keep Vale waiting too much longer. Let¡¯s go ¡°temporarily relinquish¡± whatever we can find here. I haven¡¯t seen a single body¡­ the place seems to have been swept clean. But maybe we¡¯ll be lucky."


    ---


    With a bit of searching, Shiver finally found the dormitories.


    They had been swept clean, entirely. Not a single book or possession was left behind, which would have left Pevir in horror. Shiver passed through room upon room of emptiness, lit only by flickering golden orbs of light.


    She sighed, as she exited the dormitories and headed towards a large, black, windowless building.


    "Last building¡­ I promise."


    She entered the building, and was immediately enveloped by darkness. She blinked, as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and pressed forwards, finally emerging into a vast, sweeping room.


    "What¡­ in Insanity¡­"


    The room was arrayed with rows upon rows of glass¡­ tanks?


    Hundreds of them.


    Similar to the tanks that restaurants in the upper circle sometimes used to show off the fish that would later be landing on diners¡¯ plates. Each was much bigger than a mere fish tank.


    Shiver strode up to one, and noticed that it had been filled to the brim with a strange liquid that was difficult to make out in the darkness. From the meagre light that shone through from the entrance, she could tell that dust and grime had settled on its surfaces of the tanks that still held their liquid.


    Some of the others had broken, and were empty of what they had previously contained.


    "I¡¯m stumped. The arena made sense, but this¡­"


    Shiver shook her head, and walked out of the eerie room.


    "It looks like there¡¯s nothing here but more cryptic clues Popsicle, we¡¯d best be getting-"


    Shiver halted in her sentence as she strode past the stone slabs of the arena, glimpsing something in the distance that she hadn¡¯t seen before, over one of the towering grandstands that obscured it.


    "Is that¡­?"


    When she jogged over, Shiver¡¯s eyes widened. For before her, was an enormous ward - just like what she had encountered before the Floors of Trepidation and Delirium. Only, this one bisected the entirety of the space beyond her.


    In that space, was a small black mansion.


    "Vale¡­ I promise I¡¯ll make it up to you."


    "Shiver¡­ are you sure about this? Sometimes wards are in place not to keep you out, but to-"


    Shiver rushed forwards and bounced off the ward.


    "Hey!"


    She rubbed at welt on her forehead that was slowly beginning to form.


    "Well, that¡¯s new."


    Then she placed her palms on the ward and pushed. She gritted her teeth as she continued to apply more force.


    Then she saw the barrier flicker.


    Ok, I¡¯m getting somewhere. When in doubt, just push harder.


    Then, she heard a familiar feminine voice. The same voice that spoke to them when they entered the pods.


    Authorisation granted.


    She flew through the barrier as it flickered out of existence, her arms spiraling as she struggled to catch her balance at the sudden lack of resistance.


    She took a step into the barrier, and it flickered back into existence.


    "Shiver¡­"


    "I¡¯m sure it''s fine, Popsicle. What¡¯s the worst that could happen?"

 Chapter 36: Dont Turn the Key

    Entering the building, Shiver quickly realised that she struggled to find the words to describe the room before her. While from the exterior, it looked like any other mansion she might find in Brimstone¡¯s upper circles, the inside of it departed from any point of reference that she had.


    Shiver had initially suspected it to be the headmaster¡¯s residence ¨C after all of her searching, she still hadn¡¯t managed to find it. She wasn¡¯t surprised, the academy was enormous, and it would take days of systematic searching to get anywhere.


    Rather than containing a myriad of rooms, the moment that she stepped inside, she was greeted to a single, empty area. Occupying the entire wall at the far side of the room, was a seamless, inky black surface in the shape of a rectangle, angled downwards towards the floor.


    A single dark, stone pedestal emerged from the very centre of the room.


    "Any thoughts on what we¡¯re looking at, Popsicle?"


    Her guide languidly moved about the room, inspecting its elements closely.


    "I have no idea¡­ we should be careful, Shiver. I don¡¯t think we should be here."


    Together, they approached the strange raised column. As Shiver moved closer, her eyes fixed on something inserted at the very top of it.


    That almost looks like¡­ a key.


    Her heart started to beat with excitement. Perhaps this would reveal something, in the Floors of Delirium. Or unveil another section of the academy.


    The possibilities were endless.


    There was only one question that remained¡­


    To turn, or not to turn.


    ---


    "Shiver, we should get back to Vale and Caledon. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s completed his acknowledgement by now. You¡¯ll all finally be ready to create your Fearcores!"


    Shiver nodded along, but her mind was fixed on the structure that rose in the middle of the room.


    The pedestal.


    She had combed through the entire room, looking for hints as to its purpose. However, the room was empty, deprived of any clues that would have shed light on it. It was devoid of furniture or any other signs of habitation. Shiver stared at the solid black rectangle that was angled downwards, attached to the upper portion of the wall. Her efforts revealed nothing.


    All except for one single message, carved into the pedestal itself. As if it was a last-ditch effort to beseech anyone who approached it.


    The message read:


    Our saviour¡¯s final compromise was forged to protect us from ourselves.


    Our pride and greed were unparalleled, and their only mistake was born from love.


    It will not be sufficient. There are those that seek to pervert their will.


    In our saviour¡¯s kindness, our destruction is writ.


    My Inheritance will be twofold. A final, vain attempt to honour their intention.


    From a petty elf who fell to greed and pride herself.


    Serenity will be brought within reach of the humble. An Archcity for all.


    The Singer will be silenced, only to be awakened when we stand on the brink.


    Until Insanity stirs, silence will be our salvation.


    Only then, should her voice be returned.


    Shiver¡¯s heartbeat began to race, as they finished flicking between the words.


    It was a cryptic warning.


    "What is the point of a warning if its readers don¡¯t understand it? People should learn to write clearly."


    "Mm! I agree! Although perhaps¡­"


    Shiver watched as Icey trailed off.


    "Perhaps¡­ its only meant for certain people¡¯s eyes. Those that already know what its writer speaks of. Maybe, the she wanted to avoid revealing anything."


    "Why would she do that?"


    "Maybe¡­ the knowledge itself was dangerous."


    Yet the temptation, to walk up to the pedestal and to twist the key with a small flick of the wrist was overwhelming.


    Just to see what it did.


    Shiver let out a sigh.


    "Where¡¯s Pevir when you need him. Urgh, Icey, can you remember the words? We should tell him what it says when we get back."


    "Of course! I have an excellent memory."


    The little ice cube¡¯s voice shone with pride. Shiver¡¯s eyes narrowed.


    "Oh is that so?"


    "Uh¡­ my rote memory is great¡­"


    "Mmhm, mmhm."


    "So you¡¯re leaving the key alone?"


    "Well¡­."


    "Shiver!"


    "Oh alright, Popsicle. Since you¡¯re so concerned. Wouldn¡¯t want to doom us all with a casual flick of the wrist. Although¡­ that would be pretty exciting."


    The ice cube quivered in fear.


    Shiver¡¯s eyes flashed as she recalled the final two lines of the entry. Those were the clearest, at least in relation to the pedestal¡¯s purpose. It warned not to return the Singer¡¯s voice, that silence would be their salvation. Until Insanity stirred, that was.


    It certainly was tempting, but she was getting distracted. Forgetting why she had even thought to explore beyond, in the Floors of Trepidation and Delirium.


    Out of luck this time, Shiver. Nothing to help put the Highlord of Brimstone into the ground.


    With a sigh, she tore her gaze from the tantalising pedestal and plucked Icey up from the floor below.


    Then she strode out of the building, leaving its cryptic message, and the key behind.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ---


    "Shiver you¡¯re back! What did you find?"


    Vale and Caledon rose to their feet, watching as Shiver returned from her expedition into the Floors of Trepidation.


    Vale frowned with concern, as she saw the girl squeeze her temples. Even Icey, who had zipped forwards in her excitement was lethargically drawing up the rear.


    "I hate riddles. The floors ahead are empty."


    Vale and Caledon exchanged a glance of confusion.


    "Riddles? Empty?"


    Shiver nodded. Recalling what she had seen. In the Floors of Trepidation, the multitude of doors leading to their own isolated pockets of reality that contained the dead remains of creatures. The Floors of Delirium, which seemed to house an academy in itself. The grandstands, the battle arena, the strange glass tanks. Finally, the mansion that housed the mysterious pedestal, and the message.


    Caledon frowned, his mind awhirl. The hints were there as to the nature of the future stages of Fear.


    All that was left to do was to put them together.


    "We should share it with Pevir. He¡¯s down in the basement, I told him not to go off by himself, but there was no stopping his curiosity. Perhaps he¡¯ll be able to shed some light on what it means. The Singer¡­"


    Caledon shook his head.


    "I¡¯ve never heard of the term. I wonder if it refers to a powerful Fearshaper of old. With a Fear of sound, perhaps."


    Vale raised an eyebrow in response.


    "Curious¡­ and she¡¯s been sealed away? Will turning the key unleash her? And lead to our doom?"


    Shiver shrugged.


    "My guess, is that the message was written by the Academy¡¯s founder. It spoke of an Inheritance, and bringing Serenity within reach. That could refer to the academy, and the Archcity of Fear more broadly. The second part of her inheritance is still a mystery."


    Shiver¡¯s gaze fell on Caledon, and the boy swallowed as he faced the full brunt of its intensity.


    "How was your dream, lordling? Sleep well?"


    He paled, and forced out a small nod. Examining him more closely, Shiver noticed that the fatigue of the past day had caught up to him. His eyes looked hollow as if he had endured many a restless night.


    Caledon shivered, as he thought back to his nightmares. Posing as pleasant dreams, leading him away from the true nature of his Fear. Those pleasant dreams of the past were lies in themselves, and they had sapped him of his energy. He wondered what would have happened to him, if he never realised that they were lies.


    "Damn, I was hoping to leave you behind. Anyway! Vale, there¡¯s no sign of your brother. Before telling you about my nightmare, I saw him head in the direction of the Floors of Trepidation. He was nowhere to be seen."


    Vale just shook her head.


    "Let him do what he wishes. We should focus on our goal."


    Embracement.


    The final step, before they left Anhedonia behind them and welcomed Trepidation.


    All they had left to do was to create their Fearcores.


    Vale turned to the wishbone that stood perched on her shoulder.


    "Lord Quietus, if you would be so kind to do the honours?"


    "Why of course, my guide. You were wise to select me to explain your next path towards progression. The nex-"


    "You¡¯re finally ready to descend to the next stage of your Fear! Well done everyone!"


    Icey excitedly circled the group, weaving through the gaps in their feet, her excitement infectious.


    "Why I say-"


    "Thanks to acknowledgement, the first stage of Anhedonia, your Fear is now within your awareness."


    Shiver exchanged a glance with Vale. All of them recalled the strange sensation of something running through their veins once they had acknowledged their Fears. Shiver spoke.


    "That strange sensation of something circling within us¡­ that¡¯s our Fear?"


    "Close! What you¡¯re feeling is Alarum. Think of it as your Fear made manifest. Although it is within your awareness, it is dispersed within you, and it can¡¯t be harnessed as it stands. Before you do, you must create your Fearcore. It will act as a vessel for your Fear, and it is what is required to bring your Fears into reality!"


    Caledon felt a shiver run down his spine at the little ice cube¡¯s words. Even growing up around his father, the thought of breaking the rules of the natural world, bringing into reality something that existed only in his dreams, or more accurately, his nightmares, spoke directly to his passion for creation.


    His excitement was abruptly halted when he caught sight of Shiver¡¯s piercing gaze. Where he might have planned to use Fearshaping for creation, Shiver¡¯s intentions were clear. As was her target.


    "Succinctly explained, colleague. In order to do so-"


    "It will be most effective when the creation is carried out in the presence of the object of your Fears. Shiver, for example, should be surrounded by the cold. But beware, if you surround yourself with too much, seek to take in too much of the object of your Fear, you will expose yourselves to great peril-"


    Icey hesitated as she turned her gaze towards Shiver and Vale. They smiled innocently at the ice cube.


    "W-wait a minute. Why do I have the feeling that you¡¯re ignoring the warning?"


    "We haven¡¯t the slightest clue what you¡¯re talking about."


    "No! Your descent into your Fears will become more perilous than you can imagine! You might create a vast core, but it will come at the cost of your sanity. Your descension will be more challenging. Hallucinations will plague you, HAUNT you! If you fall to them, you¡¯ll, you¡¯ll-"


    "But¡­"


    Shiver pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at Vale, who nodded in silent agreement.


    "We get a vast Fearcore. Sounds like a deal to me."


    Icey sighed helplessly. Perhaps her words of caution weren¡¯t going to be the best received by the two of their number that had ambitions to fell Highlords.


    "Bah! Well I say, colleague, you must have taken leave of your manners."


    "S-sorry Lord Quietus."


    "As I was saying¡­ As you theorised, those ingenious rooms, modelled after various Fears might just carry such a purpose. To aid you with embracement."


    Caledon frowned in thought.


    "You know¡­ I¡¯ve been wondering. What happens if a student possesses a Fear that isn¡¯t accommodated for? What if they don¡¯t have a room of descension that applies to them¡­ like if you had a Fear of-"


    "Naive lordlings from Brimstone, perhaps?"


    Caledon stared at Shiver. She shrugged her shoulders.


    "What? Just trying to be helpful."


    "If the student possesses a Fear that isn¡¯t accommodated for¡­ The academy provides."


    Shiver raised an eyebrow at Icey¡¯s uncharacteristically sage statement.


    "Anything you¡¯d care to share with us?"


    The ice cube coloured to a darker shade of blue.


    "N-no, nothing. Just something I heard about!"


    Shiver¡¯s eyes narrowed further.


    "Sure it was. Where exactly did you hear it from?"


    "And what would that mean, Icey?"


    Icey slid up to Caledon as she cowered from Shiver.


    "I think it means that the academy¡¯s rooms are capable of evolving to accommodate new Fears that it encounters."


    Caledon gaped in response.


    "How would something like that be possible? It makes the academy feel like a living, breathing¡­"


    "Wish."


    The group turned to Pevir, who walked triumphantly through the doorway, his confident stature only slightly undermined by a tome half his size that he was struggling to carry.


    "While you young ones were absorbed in your descent, I¡¯ve been busy trying to unravel the mysteries of this place."


    He dramatically adjusted his round, copper glasses, which caught the light, blinding them with their brilliance.


    Caledon blinked the spots from his eyes.


    "This book here details the history of the Academy of Anhedonia. Much of its contents have been destroyed, but I came across a curious section which says that it was the result of a dying wish of a particularly strong Fearshaper."


    Pevir turned the pages to the section he was seeking.


    "Let¡¯s see¡­ This right here. ¡°The arrogance of the archaeologist¡¯s guild has led to the perpetuation of false accounts-¡° Wait¡­ that¡¯s not the right section¡­ Ah here it is: ¡°the Academy of Anhedonia was born of the wish of the former leader of the Wings of Isephene ¨C Dalaria Icewing. A Fearshaper who had reached Serenity. Towards the end of her life, she performed a miracle, spontaneously constructing the Academy, bringing her dreams to reality at the cost of her own life, her final Inheritance. Of the final Inheritances of Fearshapers on the public record, it numbered amongst the most impressive of them and was undoubtedly worthy of her name. Thus was the basis for the Archcity of Fear created."


    Caledon gulped, exchanging a glance with Vale.


    Just how ridiculously powerful did Fearshapers get? Father was not capable of anything close to a feat like that.


    "So you¡¯re telling me that a Fearshaper that reaches Serenity will be capable of feats like spontaneously creating this academy?"


    Shiver hopped off the step that she had perched on.


    Her smile grew into a familiar devilish grin. Caledon gulped.


    "I suppose we shouldn¡¯t dally then. Last one to descend is a rotten emberhare!"

 Chapter 37: Shiver descends

    "What do you think Popsicle? Should I have given them a bit of a head start? This was way too easy."


    Shiver entered her room of descension at a leisurely gait. There was little room for doubt that this room contained the object of her Fear.


    Ice.


    Snow covered the ground in small mounds, like a miniature version of the vast landscape that she had glimpsed in the Floors of Trepidation. She took a seat in the very centre of it, and watched, as the door that led to the outside disappeared.


    Icey appeared to hesitate, trailing behind her. Finally, her guide spoke, her tone growing uncharacteristically solemn.


    "Shiver¡­ before we begin. There is something I need to ask you."


    "Oh? So serious. I¡¯m an open book."


    "What is your true wish? Have you thought about what you¡¯ll do if you achieve your revenge? If you manage to kill Berevan Brimstone?"


    Shiver broke out into a practiced, easy smile.


    "Live a happy life with my extensive popsicle harem of course. Would you like to apply? It¡¯s a highly coveted position."


    Shiver shot a glib look towards her guide. This time, however, Icey didn¡¯t rise to the teasing. She remained silent, and as the silence drew on, Shiver began to fidget. It was usually a trivial thing to parse her guide¡¯s mood from her cheery tonality and energetic movements, zipping around the group in her usual excitement.


    Her guide betrayed none of her emotions, remaining a distance away from where she was seated.


    "This isn¡¯t like you. Have you gotten too used to my teasing? Or maybe I¡¯ve taken it a little overboard?"


    "If the Highlord never took their lives, what would you have envisioned your life being?"


    Shiver started, surprised at her guide¡¯s question. The little ice cube usually got easily flustered, falling right into the traps set by her.


    This¡­ felt different.


    "Well¡­"


    Shiver smiled, her smile tight.


    "They asked me to join their family, you know. The day before they died. If you asked me what I would have done¡­ I would torment Pov every morning, bothering him for more free popsicles."


    Shiver¡¯s eyes were far away as she recounted a future that was denied to her.


    "Run from Marta as she chased me, telling me to have a bath. I would help them prepare dinner, school the younger orphans, provide them with ample feedback on their ¡°heists¡±."


    Her smile flickered. Icey¡¯s voice was soft, as it reached her. Carrying in it, a tenderness that surprised her.


    "What is to stop you from achieving this with another family, in the future? Will you give it all up for revenge? Have you thought about what they would want for you?"


    Shiver¡¯s lips turned into a frown. Her voice cracking.


    "There¡¯s no replacing what I had with them. I¡¯m an orphan ¨C a worthless burden. Abandoned in a Feardamned cave by my own parents. Yet they took me in. You think something like that would be so easily replaceable? That I would want to replace them?"


    Shiver scoffed, turning away from her guide.


    It was a simple question. But Shiver could feel her anger gradually building, at even the slightest suggestion that replacing them was ever an option.


    "What would you know about loss ¨C you¡¯re just a Feardamned ice cube."


    The silence drew out between them.


    Shiver knew that she was being unkind, that Icey deserved none of this. Shiver felt a pang of guilt at her thoughtless words, lashing out with anger, at the thought that there could be anything that surpassed the value of their lives, to give up her revenge. Let alone something as base as her own desires.


    Yet the pain was raw, and the suggestion that it was even possible to replace them, offensive.


    "Don¡¯t you know, Shiver, even ice cubes like me are capable of a bit of affection!"


    Icey replied cheerily. As if undeterred by her harsh words. Shiver felt a flash of annoyance at her guide¡¯s levity. What did she expect, assuming that an ice cube could understand. Even if she was a sentient one.


    Then Icey¡¯s voice lowered, and softened.


    An ephemeral crack in her cheerful lilt.


    "Suppose¡­ for a moment even an ice cube was capable of love. I would say¡­"


    Icey turned away from Shiver.


    "There is nothing more terrible than losing the ones you love. There is nothing more terrible than isolation that is imposed."


    Shiver stared entranced at her guide¡¯s words.


    "Isolation over which you have no control. Forcibly torn from the people who care about you the most, especially when you are undeserving of their love in the first place. When they had no reason to afford you the affection that they did. You would do anything for them, to do anything else would be a betrayal."


    Shiver¡¯s eyes were wide, her heart hammering in her chest. Icey¡¯s soft words speared right into her chest, inducing a familiar pain greater than any nightmare or shade could ever inflict. Putting to words what Shiver had so struggled to describe, betraying her understanding.


    "Perhaps even ice cubes know what it is like to cause torment with their own, silly naive actions. Your intention never matters, only the pain and suffering you impose on others. Isn''t that right? Still, Shiver."


    Icey had captured, in that brief moment, the beliefs that Shiver had carried from the very second she had awakened, alone, in that cold cave.


    With a Fear of ice, and nothing or no one else.


    "You think so little of yourself. If you descend, drawing in too much of your Fear, you will be a threat to those you love around you. The deeper you descend, the greater the danger. Do not pursue power for the sake of revenge. You will forsake yourself the possibility of the love you so desire. Please, I beg of you Shvier."


    Shiver gritted her teeth, her hands like vices around her Phobia ¨C knuckles white as her fingers tightened around her twin daggers. Her resolve waning, tears threatening to escape.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    The memory of Pov, Marta and Blaze¡¯s bodies reappeared in her vision, lying on cobbled streets. Their lives so casually stolen from them, never to laugh, smile again.


    "I was wrong about you. I¡¯m sorry, Icey. For misjudging you."


    The ice cube remained silent. She turned away, as if in silent understanding. As if she already understood her choice.


    Shiver stated it anyway.


    "You do understand. You understand that I would be betraying their memory if I made any other choice. Because you do understand, I know that you¡¯ll respect my decision. What I want, doesn¡¯t matter. I will descend. You wonder what I¡¯ll do if I achieve my revenge?"


    Her laugh was soft, but it carried no petty deception or artifice in it had before.


    "Come now. What are the chances, that a Fearshaper in Trepidation would stand a chance against a Highlord who has descended over the course of a lifetime? Berevan probably stands in Serenity, he would burn me to ash even if I did become powerful by Trepidation¡¯s standards¡­"


    She spoke softly.


    "The truth¡­ is that I don¡¯t expect to survive the exchange. I could attempt to descend further into my Fear. To the stages beyond, but what are the chances that I¡¯m capable of doing that while evading capture when I¡¯ve drawn the ire of a Feardamned Archcity."


    Shiver expressed the futility of her goals matter-of-factly. Her cold acceptance of her fate written on her expression.


    "But perhaps¡­ it may be within my ability to inflict a lasting wound, to show that Highlord a fraction of the pain that he caused me."


    Shiver smiled at her guide, this one genuine and candid. Her veneer of self-confidence having crumbled under her guide¡¯s scrutiny.


    "I¡¯m many things, and an idiot is one of them. But even I know that going up against a Fearshaper who has descended far deeper into their Fear like he has is a hopeless endeavour. But¡­ It¡¯s the only thing I can do."


    Shiver looked down her guide with genuine tenderness. An expression usually reserved only for those troublesome folks that stuck around in spite of everything she was.


    "Thank you for trying. You¡¯re too kind for your own good, you know? There isn¡¯t anything else someone like me can do."


    She smiled.


    "But I¡¯ll be Feardamned to the depths of Insanity if I don¡¯t at least try."


    "I understand. Then, there is nothing more to be said. You can count on me, Shiver!"


    The cheery voice returned, as if their exchange had been a dream. Although this time, a small sliver of insight reached her.


    She¡¯s faking it. Her cheer.


    Shiver stared as a chill came over her. One not born from the snowy room of descension in which she stood.


    Her eyes fell on the guide she had so misunderstood, just like others had misunderstood her. A troublesome, prickly orphan filled with bravado. Railing against her Fear, engaging in pointless, theatrical efforts of rebellion.


    She had consigned her guide to the same treatment that she herself had received from others, and Shiver hated herself for it.


    She wished things were different.


    Perhaps, in another life, a truer friendship, free from artifice could have blossomed between them.


    Icey¡¯s voice returned. This time, it sounded as it did in her very first dream.


    It lowered, and a degree of authority entered her voice.


    "Your Fear has been brought within your awareness. Harness it. Draw in the object of your Fear, the Alarum that the cold induces and shape it into a vessel. This will form your foundation - your Fearcore, from which your nightmares of ice will be birthed."


    Shiver surrendered herself to the awareness of her Fear, which carved its way through her body, now within her awareness.


    Then, she watched in disbelief. After opening her eyes, the small mounds of snow that surrounded her in the tiny room had shifted.


    She gazed up at immense icicles that hung from a cave roof. She glanced to her sides.


    A cavern of ice?


    The idle drip of water onto the cave floor greeted her. The cold stagnant air of the cave, colouring her breath.


    The cold moved with subtlety. It was insidious, it crept up on you. And that gradual discomfort turned into something greater, not because it increased in intensity, but from its very existence.


    Effortless submission. That was the nature of ice.


    She was at the mercy of it again. Shiver grit her teeth in mild frustration. It hardly mattered that she had spent her entire life trying to conquer it. No matter how many popsicles she went through, in the warmth of the Archcity of Flames. No matter that she had made the sight of her Fear¡¯s inception her home.


    She could feel the familiar return of her Fear as her heartbeat started to race.


    Icey sat in silence before her.


    Shiver closed her eyes.


    ¡®Now that I think about it, it¡¯s been a while since that shade of mine has graced my lordly presence. I¡¯m almost starting to miss her.¡¯


    The silence dragged on, and the anxiety welling within her continued to skyrocket, the cold inching itself into her blood. Her statement went unanswered, it looked as if her shade was content on remaining dormant.


    Embracement. She was supposed to take in the cold around her?


    She was dissatisfied with the cave around her, so similar to the one she had conquered.


    More.


    Shiver heard a familiar feminine voice reach her ears.


    Request to unseal limiters received.


    Exception identified ¨C authorisation granted.


    She blinked. Her eyes widened.


    Where she had been in an middle of a dark, icey cavern the one second, the next, she found herself in the midst of a forest. Snow fell slowly from skies the colour of anthracite.


    Not enough.


    She blinked, and the forest before her was once again replaced.


    Now, she lay on a mountain¡¯s peak, in the epicentre of a silent blizzard which circled her in the darkness of night. It framed Valefor and Idriel above her, that cast their gentle moonlight of gold and silver onto her.


    She felt as her awareness began to encompass the blizzard around her. Icey¡¯s voice reached her, as if far away in the distance.


    "Concentrate. Is this the limit of your Fear, Shiver?"


    She hadn¡¯t realised it, but there had been something strange about this room from the very beginning.


    She felt a connection to it that she had not previously.


    It responds to my desires.


    The blizzard filled her vision, and continued to circle her. Icey¡¯s voice was drowned out by the cold that filled her body and soul.


    So, what does this say about my desires? Look at me, up on this frozen throne. All alone again.


    Perhaps, this is enough?


    She blinked once more.


    No


    She rested on the same mountaintop, a barren, frozen landscape beneath her, now, brightly lit.


    Not a hint of winter wind graced the land, attempting to forcibly impose the cold.


    There was no need for it. In the land beyond her, there was no evidence of life, or warmth capable of persisting.


    The sun blared brightly overhead, a mockery, for its rays brought no warmth. Its light brought no comfort.


    Rendered powerless by the desolation around her.


    If there was anything capable of snuffing out a phoenix¡¯s flames. Perhaps this will be enough. Or¡­ do I go further?


    Shiver¡¯s eyes widened, as Icey¡¯s scream reverberated through her. It eclipsed the scream that had rang through her head, when Silvanis¡¯ venom had tore its way through her guide¡¯s body.


    It will have to be enough.


    She coughed, her lips parting painfully. The air around her was so devoid of moisture that rivulets of blood met her tongue as they escaped from the cracks in her dry lips.


    Shiver she smiled once more. She rasped softly.


    ¡®I¡¯ll stop. For you.¡¯


    She fought to clench her fist, struggling to regain control of her body. She fought the doubts that lingered at the edge of her mind. Living with¡­ all of this? Cold and despair as far as the eye can see?


    Then, comfort returned to her.


    The truth that she had confessed to Icey.


    At least I won¡¯t have to live with it for very long.


    Then, she drew it in.


    Cold filled, her, and with it, whatever vestiges of warmth remaining in the creases and folds of her skin fled. She felt as if she would never be graced with the comfort of heat again. It continued to fill her, and Icey¡¯s cries were lost. She felt it filling her, and as Icey had instructed, she harnessed the cold within and twisted it to form a vessel for her Fear.


    She drew in ice and isolation, and it was only when she tasted blood did she realise she had been screaming, a symphony of despair to join her guide¡¯s cries.


    Yet she continued, for what felt like an eternity. An eternity two-fold. And longer still.


    Once she had consumed it all, leaving the land around her devoid of ice, Shiver¡¯s eyes finally fell shut.


    Deaf to an ice cube¡¯s guilt, tears and despair.