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Relief at seeing another person gives way to panic when I meet his eyes. They’re black. Not dark brown or gray, but black. And when they meet mine, they don’t reflect the light at all. They consume it.
“I was placed here by those who fear what they don’t understand.” My voice holds no hint of the anger stirring inside me. “In this realm, certain powers … what you would call magic … are hunted and eliminated by the ruling authority. Those with natural abilities are considered threats to be eradicated.”
“I have an … affinity with darkness.” I pick my words carefully, offering a fraction of the truth. “I can perceive through shadows, which extends my awareness beyond ordinary limits.”
The moment our fingers touch, something jolts through me.
The irony isn’t lost on me. After decades of isolation, my freedom now depends on maintaining constant physical contact with another person. After a lifetime of independence, I must now rely on someone else’s willing cooperation.
Each day with her could bring me closer to freedom. Each experiment will reveal more about her capabilities, her connection to this tower’s magic, and her potential usefulness to my greater purpose. Yet something unexpected remains from today’s tests. The memory of her hand in mine, the first human touch I’ve experienced in years. The way her presence makes the perpetual silence of this tower less oppressive. Dangerous thoughts. Distractions I cannot afford. She believes she’s choosing to help me. She doesn’t realize that she is the key. The impossible, unexpected key that will finally unlock
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With my newly unlocked powers, I study her, and what I see stops me mid-step. There’s something there. Not magic as I recognize it, but a resonance that aligns with mine in a way that shouldn’t be possible. Not for someone without ability. Especially not someone from another world entirely.
“A wound named becomes a map. A wound denied becomes a lock.” The Healer’s Codex, ancient Tidvein manuscript
“Shadows fall where light fears to reach.”
“Love walks behind trust, not ahead of it.”
“The bond between two carries further than the strength of one.”
I don’t share my deeper suspicion—that the summoning forged a bond more complicated than I yet understand. “For now, our purposes align.”
And yet … my familiar strains toward her without my direction, drawn like a compass finding north. I pull it back sharply, unsettled by its behavior.
“When the body lies, the breath still betrays.”
“Restraint is a form of power. Absence, a form of presence.”
Something rises within me. Not the shadows or the void, but something older. A reflex honed by solitude and long-dead vows. A protective instinct I haven’t felt in longer than I can remember, forcing its way through the walls I’ve built around myself.
“To flee does not mean to forget. Some memories run beside us.”
The impulse to touch her is becoming more frequent, more natural. A liability I never want nor can afford.
A small, traitorous voice whispering that maybe going home isn’t the only thing that matters anymore. That maybe … maybe there are things in this world worth staying for.
“Not all rebirth begins with fire. Some begin with listening.”
She shakes her head. “No, thank you. I …” Her tongue licks across her lips. “Will you show me?” I pause, glass halfway to my lips, a momentary stillness that betrays my surprise. “Show you what?” “Your power. The shadow.” Her eyes meet mine. “I’ve seen some. The raven, the way you created a shelter in the desert, the way you …” She licks her lips. “What you did in the mountains. But I want to understand what it is. Not just what it can do, but what it means to you.”
What makes most recoil in fear only draws her closer. Another way she defies the pattern of things.
A shockwave rips through me—through us—fierce, blinding, a collision of forces I didn’t anticipate. My breath locks in my throat as something deeper than sight, touch, reason, ignites between us. Connection. Not physical. Not even magical in any way I've known before, but something soul-deep, primal, inescapable. A bridge spanning the chasm between separate minds.
She reaches up, fingers brushing my jaw with a tentative touch that belies the intensity burning between us. The contact is so slight it scarcely exists, yet it devastates me completely. I shatter beneath her fingertips, years of restraint crumbling to nothing against her touch.
Silver light blooms beneath her skin in response, not fighting my darkness as opposing forces should, but meeting it as an equal. Where shadow touches, light answers. The two powers intertwine like lovers embracing, creating intricate patterns across her skin and mine—silver threads through black tapestry, darkness cradling light.
“When language fails, touch becomes truth.”
“You’re not helpless, Mel’shira.” My voice is soft. “You never have been.”
I nod, because once again, I have no words ready for what her gratitude stirs. No one thanks the weapon they rely on. No one thanks the shield that stands between them and ruin. But she does. And it affects me deeper than I allow myself to show.
He needs to touch me. Just as much as I need to be touched.
