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"To be bonded to another is a gift, Pup. In truth, there is no greater gift for a wolf, and there never will be."
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[SHADE SHADOWS]

My hand tightens against the ladder as I lean out to slide a book into the slot. It takes a bit of stretch but it fits. My gaze runs through the spines of the neatly packed books on a now dust-free shelf.

Dragging the ladder with me to the next empty shelf, I find the easiest way to pack books is to stack them up like a tower near the ladder for easier packing.

I do all this whilst in deep thought.

If only I could say I think of ways to escape. If Vale has managed to get the red yarn or find a solution to our Night Wolf problem.

These thoughts are what should be on the mind of a slave who is planning an escape but no-

I think of none of these things.

Instead, I think of words, of stories that aren't mine but are painfully familiar. I think of death, of shadows, of colors painted on a canvas.

I think of a pair of wolves, the sadness that has laid a nest in my chest when I think of their demise. Of their loss. Of all, they left behind.

It's like the world is dark, cold, and cruel.

But then, I remember last night. And the being that haunts my dreams now. Instead of red eyes, he looks at me with eyes the mix of the sky and fields.

My breath is warm against my barely parted lips and my heart seems to skip a beat.

Hello. I can still remember his voice.

It is an echo in my mind. Only accompanied by the vision of him, calmly looking at me, a slight crease on his forehead.

A dream so lifelike. So real. My heart thuds.

As all my dreams are.

My hands are shaking now a little I notice, as I reach to pick the first book stacked to my mount whilst perched on the ladder.

I glance at them for a moment, but I manage to tame them, grabbing another book and sliding it into place.

I need to shake my head free of these thoughts. Selene. They are not right. Neither is this warmth they send to me and how my heartbeat becomes nonexistent when I remember my dreams.

When I remember him.

I do not know why even these dreams have decided to become repetitive. Not that I am not relieved I no longer see nightmares filled with eyes of red.

But why must it be him? Of all things.

Why must I punish myself with things I cannot have?

I roll my eyes at this. I'm disgusted with myself and at the same time, I pity myself.  For Selene's sake, must my dreams always be so strange?

"Why must I be so strange?"  I mutter. A statement cruel but true.

My very existence is an oddity. Be it as a keffer or—

My heart drums.

Because I am something altogether different. A Mage Wolf.

I think of the girl on the ledge, of the flower that bloomed in Xirrians hand, and of the prophecy foretold on her lips.

You will find her in the market.

She said, and he had.

She was as strange as I am. Though, I admit that I have never been able to see the future.

Or have I?

My eyebrows gather. Most importantly-

Could I?

Thinking of the moment again, I realize she had made another prophecy, perhaps oblivious to Xirrian at the time. But now that I think of it, I know she saw his demise.

"My curse has no relief, but yours will, for if but a moment."

For a moment. Only a moment.

My breath seems colder when it hits me.

Xirrian, Adeline, and Sinth. The shadows that consumed them. Relief for a moment, then death and fate, hand in hand.

I cannot help but think of how lonely Sinth must have been without them.

Loneliness is such a painful thing. My shoulders cave at the thought and I look out into the library, into the darkness that envelopes me, my gaze shoots to the window where a singular beam of light protrudes.

Four days of night we've had and whilst I am glad the sun has come out today, I cannot ignore the signs.

The cycle repeats. Another Lonely Night Wolf.

I would imagine there cannot be a sadder existence and yet, Xirrian said her curse is far worse.

My heart beats louder, but I keep packing. I admit that I am scared.

I glance to the side into the darkness of the row of books among books that drown me in this monstrosity of a library.

I could hunt for the truth right now.

Am I ready for the truth? Yes. I look down at my bare dusty hands. More than I know, but still, it does not take away my fear of it.

My gaze returns to the bookshelf. This is what should occupy my mind.

My identity and my escape.

Nothing more.
Nothing more.

Lies.

For yet still, even as I ponder these things, my mind has a way of drowning. Drowning back into tales and stories.

The 8th Night Wolf.

I feel pain and sorrow on his behalf, to the point even my own fear seems trivial, and although he says my curse is worse, I cannot imagine a fate worse than his.

In truth?

A part of me regrets reading his words that were meant to be private. Although it has revealed much, I must confess I feel like I now carry an extra burden. One I cannot identify.

Then I think of my dream again as if I am stuck in a perilous cycle.

The sun, of the flowers, but all that pales in comparison with the being whose eyes watch me a hair's breadth away as if they had been studying me for a century-

I'm breathless.

—Oh, for Selene's sake. I roll my eyes and curse myself, shutting them closed again.

"Focus. Focus Shade." I grit. I cannot be this foolish.

And yet, I continue to surprise myself. Worrying about the Master. A master who does not even visit.

I scoff and my jaw tightens.

I notice the hardness in the grip of the book as I slide into place. Letting go, I feel even more foolish and now, I am angry.

Selene. How can I be angry?

I had much more to think of. My escape and my identity. My true identity. A mage wolf.

A mage wolf.

A mage wolf.

I repeat this line what feels like a hundred times to keep my thoughts centered.

Relief floods me when I hear a flutter behind me, knowing that I finally have a break from my spiraling thoughts that seem to want to take me to the depths of insanity.

I blame the loneliness of the library. Anyone can go mad. I am certainly close.

I grab another book from my stack,

"You're late!" I grunt into the wind at the noise.

"It has been hours— hours! Selene, sometimes I think you want to me lose my mind in this place," My voice drips in the right amount of destain and relief.

I sigh.

If only the raven could understand that without her company I fear I will lose everything that keeps me sane...my gaze roams the endless rows of shelves in front of me—

If I have not already.

I turn and take the book that is handed to me, fitting it in the slot with a sigh.

Diane has absolutely no clue how lucky she is to be a bird and simply leave when she plea—

I freeze and stare at the book I have just placed in the slot for a moment.

Handed?

Spinning around, I almost fall off my ladder at the sight of the master, who stands beneath my mount very much unbothered by his sudden arrival. His eyes are tracing over the cover of the next book on my stack, gingerly picking it up.

"M-master-" I blurt, my mouth hangs, simply staring at him in disbelief.

I'm wide-eyed, and my heart seems to have completely silenced at the sight of him.

He was here. Here.
Finally.
Db
I watch as if entranced as his gaze softly shifts from the book to me as he turns, his long eyelashes lift to reveal eyes with colors I cannot identify, raising an eyebrow at the call of his title, seemingly oblivious, and slightly confused at the sight of my perplexed stature.

"Yes?" His voice is calm. Everything is calm now.
How can it not? He is here.

My heart is the only thing that seems to be making sounds. The softest pounds, gentle thuds against my chest as his gaze bores deeper into mine, and his head slants ever so slightly studying me.

And for a moment. It is as if I see it all again.

The fields. The flowers. Us.

"Hello," I breathe softly.

He is silent for a moment. But his eyes never leave me. And then he speaks. His voice even softer, breathless.

"Hello, Shade."

My lips tug upwards. Selene, I cannot help it. It is as if I am a little girl who has just been brought a present. And when he calls my name, my knees oh they weaken. I lean back discretely on the ladder for support.

I feel sudden warmth in my cheeks when I realize I have not looked away and instead I am simply staring, openly. Deeper warmth arises when I note, so is he.

I am saved however by the caw of Diane.

My gaze shifts to the bird that perches on a torch post. Her Beady eyes brought me back to reality for a moment. I stare at Diane in confusion, as if I'm lost-

Then my gaze switches back to the master, snapped awake, whose eyes follow mine.

"You're here.." I barely breathe. It's something I say to myself, but he nods.

"I am," he agrees although the crevice between his eyebrows deepens, "though I confess I did not know that I was late."

I chuckle shaking my head. Oh, that.

Butterflies seem to swirl within me, a warmth fills me, "Late? No, you're not late, master-"

My thoughts fumble within me, I cannot think straight, "I mean you're not just late," I huff, "you were uhm—." The sentence hangs for a moment.

He was—

He was gone. For four days.

The thought settles inside me and I blink for a second when it clears, my eyebrows drawing in, "Actually you were gone," My gaze zeroes into nothingness when it hits.

For four days.

Four days he was gone.

My heartbeat slows.

Why would he be gone for that long?

Although many reasons flood me, all valid, I begin to feel foolish again.

Earlier thoughts plague me.

Here I was worrying about a master, a supposed friend. My gaze shoots to Diane. Her beady eyes watch me, and her head tilts.

Worrying. I was worried about him. And he?
He probably didn't even care as much. Or he would have come by sooner.

But that shouldn't matter should it? Perhaps I think far too hard. I know that he has never had friends before. He simply does not know.

He is here now. Finally. 

That is what should matter.

My gaze shoots to him, I fight to keep the small smile on my face. He stands beneath me, beautiful. Firm, dressed in a shade of black that brings out his eyes and the red in his hair. A master.

Four days.

First friend or not, he should have come by even for a few minutes, shouldn't he? Did he not care that I worried?

My smile falters. Perhaps it is I who cares too much.

How sad. How sad for me.

My gaze returned to his, and my smile was gone, "for four days." I repeat audibly, "You were gone for four days."

His eyebrows arch as my lips purse into a straight line and suddenly the foolish butterflies and warmth that dance around inside me are extinguished.

"Shade?" He calls my name so perfectly, that my gaze flutters back to him and the call of his eyes.

He almost wins. Selene, he is so pretty-But it is as if the enchantment has lifted and instead, anger has returned accompanied by feelings the foolish have.

I look down at the book in his hand, taking it from him, a tick in my jaw.

"Thank you for stopping by, master," I grit, "but do not worry. I will not keep you," I offer him a tight smile as I say this. My voice is cool but I am anything but.

It is only more infuriating when his eyebrows deepen as if he cannot understand my sudden turn in nature. As if an assurance he does not care or else he would understand. He is smart. Even without lessons in curtesy, he must know what is right.

I turn away, moving further up the ladder.

My heart thuds as I do so. Common sense reminds me that this is a master, and I should not behave this way, but I remain stubborn.

I move a step up the ladder, searching for the slot for my book.

"I understand you are very busy." I mock, "If there is anything you need for your study, I will do what I can to help," I glance down at him and he continues to watch me in confusion, "If not, you really must move out of the way, master, you see there is a lot of dust here."

To reiterate my point I take this time to dust my dusting cloth in the air as hard as I can sending a cloud of thick dust in the air.

The master looks away, coughing instantly.

I am a slave, I am used to the dust already. I sleep on it for Selene sake. It does not affect me. He, however, was a master...

Although I know he cannot get sick easily, with his overripe senses, a cloud of dust is simply not a comfortable thing to inhale.

"Shade?" He calls again and then He coughs.

I would stop, truly,  but the cloth is much too dusty.

It needs a thorough cleaning. I dust it out again, thicker clouds of dust in the air.

Even Diane cannot escape it, the bird is first to take flight.

"Shade! I can not brea-"

More coughs.

Oh, It's just so dusty.

"Sha-"

The whole aisle is thick with dust and now all I hear is coughing, that becomes fainter and fainter and farther spaced.

I pause when I cannot hear him anymore and sigh.

I know it is petty. It is. I suppose I am petty when I am angry. Still, it is a small price to pay to correct my foolishness.

I look through the cloud of dust, squinting to see if he is still around, coughing a little bit too. I decide to climb further up the ladder where it is easier to breathe as the dust settles.

I sigh. In truth, I have only made my job much harder. For now, I have to dust all over again.

But it is worth it.
I am satisfied. My mistake has been corrected.

When the dust settles the master is nowhere to be seen. Sighing, I climb down the ladder, taking down more books.

I begin dusting again, one by one.
Yes, I'm alone again. I chuckle softly.

I cannot decide if I prefer it now.

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Do not Worry, the next chapter is still a "Kayde" chapter 😉 ✨