“Blame’s beyond herself! She keeps doing this over and over, leaving us behind. What does she thinks about us? We’re not a damn child! We can fight, too, if that’s what she’s worried about!”
It’s been over three hours, but Briane seemed to have not released all of his anger yet. He kept pacing in front of them, talking, more to himself than to Berry and Sloane who were almost asleep in their seats. He took it as an insult to their friendship and betrayal to their trusts that Z didn’t even consult them before rising into action. What more, she brought that Kleint along with her. They just met, and she would trust her life to him? Whereas he, Briane George, has been her best friend for three years, yet he’s the one left behind. What kind of child-reading had led her to such a decision?
Berry’s head lolled on his chest, snoring as the cold breeze of dawn ruffled his hair. Sloane, meanwhile, leaned closer to him,
The Shadowests wasted no time. Once Briane handed them the note containing the threat, Z immediately told them to prepare, for they would venture an hour after. Marjorie insisted that the Magistrates searched the area thoroughly once again and persuaded Shiela to go with them to the school. Although she wanted to be the one to go there personally, she thought it unwise to just leave the sanctuary of the field; not now that the Phantoms and Magistrate 12 were gaining power.With a rather hasty good-bye, the Shadowests, Kleint, Shiela, and Granny went inside the carriage as Briane rode the Shorne, and they’re off, the Shorne neighing loudly before galloping away. As they sped South, Z started giving out a lump of bread. It barely had some jam, but, as their stomach groaned, it became rather enough. On and on they went, indifferent to the complaints of their stomach that were now hungrier after the bread.The carriage’s usefulness ended when they arrived at th
The narrative of Z’s past, present, and future were nothing more than proof that Sylvania’s existence qualified as a catalyst for chaos. In the past, her willingness to show her father that she deserved to be heir to Sylvania’s legacy led her to create a forbidden artifact, which transported Zeniah in the future. It had been branded as murder and she’d been condemned, tortured, and was almost killed in front of the apprehensive Forbinians. Her father proved that he could cut off his only heir’s head if it means upholding the law—his law.In her present, she tried to make things right by being a Phantom that sneaked through the criminal’s midst, put an end to their lives, and bring the peace back where it belonged. She thought she was doing what’s right until her father walked in the path of evil and declared war on the Supreme Council. She was then burdened by the responsibility of killing her father, for the Council believed sh
It's such a nostalgic thing to have finished this epic of a novell, and I thank all of you for the support, especially to my editor, Artis Yusi, who give it her all to make sure I feel welcome here. I'm sure we all had an exhausting but fun journey, so do tell me what you think about the first installation of the Shadow Series. Thank you everyone! We'll see each other again in the second installation where we'll dive deeper in the secret of Pasithea. I'm going to warn you beforehand to wear your helmet, for this is going to be another hell of a bumpy ride. Until then, let's all savor this first installation; reread it, and you might find some clues as to whaat's going to unfold in the second book.
Note:I’m not really into prologue, so I’m not sure if you can consider this one, but this did happen right before the timeline of the main story, so you can skip this one. You’ll miss nothing, swear. This is just so you’ll know Blame’s point of view. *** I’d never thought I’d live to see death unfold right before my eyes. I was young. I didn’t expect to look the reaper in the eyes yet. I was sure I’d live to see myself morphed into a legend I wished to become, sure that I’d be passing my greatness to my future seeds, to the next generation that would further my goals. But that’s not how life worked. It shattered my dreams and made me realize that everything I’m fighting for was pointless because I was meant to die.
Arc 1Identity Confusion To which we’ve been fooled of who we are, lay the terrifying monster ready to tear us apart. But, if we look closely we’ll see that what’s confusing us is the clone we made out of despair, the shadow that concealed what must have been the truth we’re seeking for. So, take heed! Our perception will be twisted in Z’s palm. --- “Can’t you see the beauty of Pasithea?” said George Williams, his eyes bulging. “Seriously, are you blind or something?” The beach was crowded on the first morning of May that the wind felt a lot warmer than it should. George and Z were sitting on the shore, their feet soaked in the salty water, a pair of coconut juice beside them.
The Protectors’ Guild rested at the farthest corner of the villa. From the outside, it looked more like a square-shaped gift, surrounded by what seemed to be dark sparks. There was a short fence bordering it and its gate was made out of steel, appearing and disappearing each second. One of the protectors stood at the gate as a hole emerged on its middle part. There was a clicking sound as a yellow light scanned through him, followed by a pop, until the fence moved away, bringing the gate with it. A twisting lane then greeted them, punctuated by a rectangular sphere that moved forward when detecting presence. “Wicked,” said George under his breath, his eyes set at the sparks uniting in a nearby post, leaving the infrastructure unguarded. The sphere stopped moving when they were barri
The Main Centre had a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight, its corners punctuated by shops of different size and stock. There were about hundreds of ancient-looking torches lining up to the ends of the street, a glass casing each of its pea-size flame. Somehow, the sight of the shop, the things outside them, the Wielders bobbing in and out of any establishment, a transparent bag filled with various equipment hanging on their wrist, distracted Z from any thoughts she just had earlier. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was swinging a silver necklace as she passed, saying, “Necklace, oh, enchanted necklace! Charming as it looks, powerful to use.” Z bit her lips to hide her snigger. “Hey, Z! I’ll withdraw first,” sai
Three of Z’s days passed in a bland monotone, her life back to the way it was, no George, only Granny and her work in her tea shop. Still, her mind was dominated by the fierce woman’s presence, curious as to why she felt the urgency to know her, to realize why she’s so familiar. However, they haven’t seen each other since, even George who, unfortunately, was offended when Z did not accept the cloak he bought. “Are you okay, kid?” said Granny Williams, a seventy-year-old Wielder who managed to keep her younger features—that was so alike with George’s—even her sweet voice. In fact, she looked more like his sister than his grandmother. This was because of her fine skills with brewing anti-aging potions of her invention. She drinks this potion every year, which would drive her unconscious for days. Many Wielders were drawn to its unwaveri