The darkness cradled Erador like no one could but he didn’t find comfort staring into the pit where his father told him he’d be thrown. It was a place for traitors and heathens, who weren’t worthy of a proper burial. Their corpses would fall in the pit forever, never to reach Paradise. The dark could fool anyone into believing all sorts of things but Erador didn’t believe monsters lurked in the dark.

  They thrived in the light.

  The sun burned against his neck-length hair that was as black as obsidian. He wished to retreat to the cool shade in the trees, but he needed to end this. He lifted the whip over the pit. The leather was warmed by his gentle grip. It held bloody history only he could write the truth about, but he couldn’t remember the pain from the leather when it struck his once small back.

  Cracks in the dried leather mimicked his father’s aged skin. It was like he could sense the two-decades old rage from the leather his father sweat into. Erador didn’t want to be rotten like him.

  Letting go of the whip was the first step to move on from the pain his father had caused, but frustration trapped inside of him prevented him from releasing it. He could never forgive his father for making every part of him bleed.

  Erador turned sharply and went toward the trees. An intrusive tingling erupted on his scalp and a shadow moved from Erador’s own. It was easy to dismiss Shade’s feelings when he looked like a regular shadow—flat, and only existing in light. He couldn't ignore Shade for long when he had access to his thoughts. Shade scolded him for not doing what he was supposed to. Erador shut him down with rising anger, and he retreated back into Erador’s shadow to mimic his movements. Soon, Erador would enter the shadows of the forest and Shade would cease to exist.

  He unbuttoned the two top buttons of black shirt, appreciating the cool breeze on his sweaty skin. His journey through the trees should’ve been peaceful without Shade reading his thoughts and making him feel things he didn’t want to, but darkness couldn’t always quiet his mind. In areas of light, that slipped through the trees, he could feel Shade’s disapproving mood and Erador was forced images of Loma yelling at him.

  It didn’t matter if she found out that he didn’t get rid of the whip. It wouldn’t change how he felt. Erador tugged hard on his sleeve to cover the round scars on his wrist and re-buttoned his shirt to hide the ones on his chest, but the ones on his cheek that ran down his square jaw to his neck were harder to hide. The deep red color made the scars appear unhealed and contrasted with his medium-olive skin. These scars were made by a monster more terrifying than his father, and its venom still coursed through his veins.

  He reached the forest’s edge and walked a short distance to the garden’s screeching gate. Inside, Erador stiffened when Loma waited at the start of the path with judging brown eyes.

  “Loma,” Erador said, tucking the whip behind his back. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came... to congratulate you for forgiving your father.”

  He knew she lied based on how she gripped her shapely hips and flattened her lips. As he lowered his head, a strand of black hair dangled in his eyes. Dread crept in, but he knew it was from Shade who tried to make him feel guilty for lying. Her frustration couldn’t bother Erador like it did when he was a child.

  Loma held out her hand. “Give it here.”

  Erador glimpsed at the silver and copper moons faded into the blue sky, and was prepared for Loma to tell him they were watching and he better not lie. It had something to do with the Senith gods she believed in, and they were banned from his father’s cult. He didn’t care about some fabricated punishments the moons would enact if he lied. Not that he was going to.

  Erador gave the whip to her, glad to be free of it. “Throwing a whip in a hole doesn’t change what he did.”

  Loma sighed and slipped the whip in her robe. “Your father has suffered long enough for his misdeeds. It’s time to move on.”

  His father’s teachings claimed that adversity, punishment, and suffering could change people for the better, but it hadn’t worked on him. He learned nothing. Erador was afraid he never would.

  “We’re doing something new today,” Loma said.

  Her stiff face made him shiver. She led him to the greenhouse when the fresh smell of paint hit him. The square windows were painted black, except the front. The floor had been freshly swept and the clay pots and tables that once crowded the greenhouse were replaced by an unlit candle on a stool. Loma went inside and gestured for him to enter. Shade peeked out and told him not to. The candle was the only light to cast Shade, the only thing that made him alive, and it could easily be suffocated by a breath. If only dying could be as quick and painless.

  Erador wished he could fool Shade into thinking he wasn’t afraid, but the slightest raise in his heart beat revealed how he felt. It wasn’t just a greenhouse anymore. The fresh coat of paint meant one thing—Loma wanted him in the Shadow Realm.

  “I’m not going,” Erador said, firmly.

  Loma placed her hand on her hip. “Your fears have controlled you long enough. It’s time to face them.”

  “You’re punishing me because of the whip.” Erador scoffed. “I have no reason to go into the Shadow Realm.”

  Loma pulled out a lighter and flattened her lips. “Then you’ll continue to be weak.”

  “That’s not coming from you,” he mumbled.

  Loma flicked the lighter and her shadow danced across the dark windows. “You can’t keep making excuses. One day, you might have to access the realm.”

  Erador didn’t care about becoming stronger. He could keep hiding his weaknesses. He did it this long. What other purpose did the realm serve except to prevent the shadow lurkers from annihilating every living thing in their world? Loma said the Senith gods created it to trap lurkers, but Erador didn’t believe her. Why would any god make such an evil place?

  Shade would end up there when Erador died—he would unwillingly create a monster.

  “I’m not going.”

  Loma shut the lighter, suffocating the flame. “It will help you gain control of your fears and build confidence.”

  “I don’t need help with that.”

  “You fear letting go of that whip means you’re giving up. You may be strong-willed but I know a scared man when I see one.” Loma looked Erador over. “And you’re much like your father.”

  Erador shut his eyes and said through his teeth, “I’m not like him.”

  “If that’s what you want to believe.”

  Loma flicked her eyes to the sky. She tried to make him mad on purpose, and it worked. He gripped his pants. Every time he’d see her, he would be reminded that she thought he was like an abusive, controlling man.

  “Then tell me...” Erador said, crossing his arms. “How am I like him?”

  Erador smirked as she fumbled over words and stepped outside the greenhouse into the light, but Loma didn’t appear embarrassed that she didn’t have an answer. She raised her chin and looked at the ground. Smile fading, Erador followed her sight to her shadow zooming under his feet. Before he could move, he was sucked through the dark shape.

  Cold, blackness consumed his body and muted his screams. For a moment, it was as if he didn’t exist. His fears left him. He imagined this is what it felt like before he was unwillingly brought into this world. It’d been so long since he experienced such comfort and he never wanted to let go.

  Within seconds reality rushed back as he was thrown out of the shadow onto his back. Erador sat up through the sharp pain and sucked in a breath. The Shadow Realm was like a mirror of the first world, except the atmosphere had a dark mist and the deep red sun was like the color of his scars. It was enough light for lurkers to survive and Erador was in the open for them to kill him. He frantically checked his surroundings for a lurker as he patted the ground for Shade who rushed to him.

  Before Shade could pull him back, Loma dragged Erador into the dark greenhouse and shut the doors. She closed the curtains, blocking all light and destroying any trace of a shadow. Erador got up and fumbled in the dark for Loma but couldn’t find her. Shade’s soul unwrapped from his own but Erador wasn’t relieved to be free of the shadow. He wanted to scream.

  “Calm down.” Loma’s comforting voice sounded as if she was behind a door because she was in the first world. “You’ll draw the lurkers here.”

  Erador quieted his heavy breaths and listened, but his heart hammered too loud. It felt like his tightening throat would choke him.

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  “What were you thinking?” Erador said, through his teeth. “A lurker could’ve been right there.”

  “There wasn’t,” Loma said. “My shadow told me.”

  Erador searched the bottom of the greenhouse for silvers of light. There wasn’t a crack lurkers could slip through. They couldn’t break windows or interact with anything in the first world, but that didn’t make him feel safe. He was in the second world, a place in between only people with shadow elements could access. Lurkers didn’t exist here, but they could reach it and they wouldn’t hesitate to kill.

  “Let me leave, dammit!” Erador reached for her and bumped into the stool.

  “Listen,” she said.

  “What if the lurkers get in? What if they don’t need light to exist anymore?”

  Loma took in a breath. “I have tested it. We’re safe.”

  “There’s nothing safe about being here.” Erador held out his hand. “Give me the lighter.”

  “If you listened the first time, I wouldn’t have brought you in that way.” Loma’s feet scuffed toward him. “We can’t progress until you realize that you can’t be hurt in this greenhouse.”

  Erador sucked in a shaky breath. “I can’t do it.”

  “You must try.”

  Try. He had countless times, but it always ended in failure. His father’s hateful words tore him down until he felt like a child. As a Paradin soldier, he had an image to uphold. He was supposed to be strong, brave, and willing to make sacrifices. But he didn’t care to impress his father. He’d been ordered to train by him, to get over his fears as if they were nothing more than a scraped knee. It wasn’t easy. Erador was afraid he would never overcome this.

  Erador stiffened under Loma’s touch and tried to control his breathing.

  Distressed voices carried through the garden making Erador’s skin crawl. He pressed his hand over his mouth to contain his rapid breaths. The lurkers’ language was indistinguishable. They spoke over each other, not pausing or listening like people as if they weren’t communicating. Some repeated the same words over and over again.

  Erador whimpered and Loma shushed him, but he had trouble containing it. Beautiful singing amplified over the voices. Loma told Erador to calm but he didn’t hear her. His scars burned as if they were on fire. Winching, he gripped his chest and struggled to breathe from the pain. The monster's venom pulsed inside of him.

  His memories consumed him and he found himself in an alley with painted sunflowers. They represented goodness and were a depiction of paradise, but to Erador, they were a reminder of everything that haunted him, including the black shadow that suffocated the bright yellow petals.

  The lurker’s body pulled and stretched into a hunched shape that reached the roofs of the first story buildings. Black claws snatched Erador’s wrist and burrowed in, burning cold. Dark liquid spread onto his skin and mended with his blood as if it was bonding to him.

  Erador snapped from his thoughts as he pulled his arm to his chest and ran his fingers across the scars on his wrist. They were dry and he used that to anchor himself in reality. It was hard when he could feel the lurker’s venom still pulsing in him, controlling what he saw and how he felt just like Shade did.

  The beautiful melody could lull a person to sleep but Erador never felt so vulnerable from something so delicate. He wished he could retreat under a blanket to the darkest part of his room like he did as a child. Shuddering, he hugged his body to shield it from the claws that once tore into him. Loma’s comforting hands on his shoulders couldn’t help him.

  Lurkers took the form of what a person feared, but he wasn’t sure what to make of his monster. It resembled a person that had been starved to death with skin tight around its bones and arms that reached the knees. Lurkers didn’t have features. That black faceless abyss was missing something, but he couldn’t picture it. It didn’t feel mortal.

  Tensing his fists, Erador tried to block out the singing but he could only focus on the painted sunflowers in the alley. They reminded him of the sun, what lurkers breathed to survive.

  Screaming, Erador swatted the air. “Let me out.” He fell to his knees, gripping his burning chest. “Slen is here.”

  A hand grabbed Erador’s arm and he yelped, trying to pull away.

  “Stop!” Loma said, tightening her grip. “You’re safe.”

  His breathing escalated and it took several minutes for him to calm even when the singing stopped and his scars no longer burned. Erador rubbed his hand down his long nose and let his head fall. Sweat rolled down the three scars on his right cheek leading down his neck. Rocking, he covered his ears to drown out the lurkers and focused on his safe place—the dark.

  A lighter clicked behind him and Loma lit the candle. Erador covered his stinging eyes and hunched as shadows shifted across the painted windows. He peeked through his fingers and settled when the shapes remained flat. Shade materialized, recreated in Erador’s image, and weighed on his already fatigued body.

  Erador’s shame was interrupted by images Shade fed him of lurkers breaking the glass. He shuddered at the shadow’s fear, invading him like a sickness. At least Loma’s shadow kept away during their sessions.

  “I’m fine, Shade,” Erador said, irritated as he forced out the invasive images.

  “Have you experienced any new visions?” Loma said, touching his shoulder.

  Erador’s core rattled as if his own body would break from his skin. He avoided her gaze until he realized her features were darkened by the mist. She couldn’t see his expression when in the first realm, only a silhouette of his body. It gave him the confidence to tell her no.

  Visions from Slen’s past life had returned after ten years—he was afraid Slen was stronger. Erador’s scars burned more than they used to, which meant Slen was waiting nearby in the Shadow Realm to get him.

  “Good,” Loma said. “Now come through.”

  Shade rippled against the windows. Relief trickled through Erador, this time Shade’s mood eased his anxiety. Erador moved through the black shape. It felt like water beaded across his skin. The transition was instant, and appeared as if he hadn’t left the greenhouse, but the mist was gone and the talking lurkers ceased.

  Loma waited with an apologetic smile on her face as she slowly opened the curtains.

  Erador shielded his eyes from the light. “You’ll never help me.”

  Loma frowned. “Why do you say that?”

  “I didn’t mean your bad at helping.”

  “No, Erador.” She let go of the curtain. “Why do you think you can’t be helped?”

  “I’m...”

  “Not good enough?” She crossed her arms. “Your father put those words in your head. You’re more than good enough.” Loma touched his shoulder. “I believe in you.”

  That wasn’t enough. Erador wasn’t a proper Paradin soldier if he didn’t go into the Shadow Realm, but he didn’t ask for this. As the son of Lucrethia’s leader, he never had a choice. He touched the tattoo on his right forearm of the green moth resting on a sunflower; it meant he, with the help of other Paradins, could open paradise. Erador still didn’t understand it. His father only explained that their elements would need to be used, but it didn’t exist. He didn’t know how he was capable to play the role of soldier when he hardly trained. How could he protect anyone?

  He studied the soft wrinkles on her medium olive skin. Silver wavy hair framed her round face. She hadn’t changed much since he almost died from Slen, but she was older.

  “He’s forcing you, isn’t he?” Erador whispered.

  “Who?” Loma blinked.

  “My father... he’s making you help me. You should rest, Loma.”

  “It’s not him.” She pressed her fingers to her chest. “I won’t stop until you no longer fear them.”

  Erador gave a gentle nod and shut his eyes. Her comforting words blocked his father’s hounding voice, but Slen’s singing repeated in his head.

  “Shade will help you. If a threat rises, he’ll pull you out of here.” Loma smiled. “You’ve made him strong enough.”

  “But it’s harder if I can’t sense him.”

  “It should be easier,” Loma said. “Shade can’t exist without light, but neither can lurkers, but if they step into darkness, they perish.” She rubbed her thumb on his wrist scars and squeezed his hand. “They’ll never hurt you again.”

  Erador let out a deep breath, and tried to sound authentic. “As long as I’m in the dark, I’m safe.”

  “Good boy.” Loma stood on her toes and patted his head. “You did well today.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Erador lowered his gaze.

  “You calmed quicker than I expected, but...” Loma opened the doors and stepped outside. “I don’t think you’re quite ready to face a lurker.”

  Erador’s mouth dropped. “You want me to what?”

  Loma faced him and grabbed her hips. “How do you think you can pass the final test?”

  Erador dodged her serious stare, afraid she knew he lied about the visions. Shade split from his shadow and shook his head. Erador couldn’t argue with him. He wasn't ready and he never would be. The doubt lingered as Loma scolded Shade back into hiding, where he matched Erador’s movements to hide.

  “What if I never make it to that point?”

  “In time, you will.” Loma smiled. “You know what I think will help?”

  Erador averted his gaze as her eyebrows rose. He didn’t want to do more knitting, cleaning, or other crazy ideas she claimed would help relieve stress. To rid him of his fears, she forced him to pray to the light god Artorian. She said it didn’t work because he didn’t try hard enough. Sometimes she was as bad as his father and his cult.

  “Take a break from guarding.” Loma squeezed his cheek until he relaxed. “The Raven’s festival is next week.”

  Erador’s stomach dropped. As if he needed to be reminded. Sunflowers and fliers hung on every street. “My father needs me.”

  Loma shook her head, disappointingly. “I have lots of candy. More than last year.”

  Chuckling softly, Erador stepped into the light. “Trying to bribe me?”

  “I know you can’t resist my treats,” she said with a wink.

  He scratched his neck, smiling. “I guess I can give Aminria some company.”

  “I’ll see you next week then.” Loma waved before she disappeared around the bushes.

  Erador stared into the greenhouse, feeling he had to retreat from the sun to feel safe. Other worries consumed him as he turned toward the manor with the black-painted windows. It didn't matter what world he was in, he would always face pain he didn't want to.