Shades of Grey

SHADOWS TRIBAL CAMP— MAY 1844

I awoke the next morning in our chamber lying on my bed, my body aching beyond all comprehension of the word. Forma sat next to me with a cold cloth and a bucket of water. She daubed my forehead gently as I stirred.

“It was an incredible attempt,” she said softly. “You are so close!”

“I feel horrible,” I replied with the articulation and tonality of a dying animal.

“I know,” she replied with a smile.

“Did I retch again?” I asked, taking the cloth from her and holding it to my own forehead, fighting my sore muscles through the whole movement.

“No, you just moaned a lot,” she remarked with a grin. “Cursed a couple of times too.”

“Good. I hate retching.”

Forma laughed, stood up and walked across the room to the washroom, proceeding to splash water on her face to wake herself up.

“Well, don’t stay in bed all day. Your body is ready to change, you just need to release your mind and allow the change to happen.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” I groaned. “You’ve been trained to do this your entire life! I’ve only just started learning.”

“Because you’ve only just attained the power. This is the prime opportunity to practice, while the ability is fresh!”

Forma came back to my side and scooped some water out of the pail with a wooden goblet, which she handed to me. I quickly took it and drank it in no time, ignoring the severe ripping sensation that shot through every muscle of my body with every movement I dared to make. I sat back when I had finished and moved the cloth to the base of my neck.

“Would you be open to practicing one more time today?” she asked gently.

“Forma, I can barely move. I don’t think I’ll be practicing again for several days,” I replied through a long, laborious exhale.

“Alright. I’m going to walk around the city. I’ll see you later, then?”

“Fine. Have fun,” I responded as I slowly fell asleep.

“Grey!”

I sat up and gasped as Forma’s sudden spate ripped me away from the comforts of sleep after what felt like only minutes. I rubbed my eyes as she sat next to me, shaking in inexpressible furor.

“What is it?” I said as I pulled myself up, relieved that the ripping in my muscles had lessened in severity.

“You’ll never believe what I’ve discovered!” she exclaimed with a large grin.

“What did you discover?” I inquired flatly as I tried to wake up.

“I was—” Forma then stopped to think for a moment. “No. I can’t explain. You must come and see for yourself.”

I rolled my eyes and stood, the soreness of my muscles slowly deteriorating with each passing moment. I grabbed my coat and threw it over my shoulders, following Forma out the door.

“Where are we going?” I asked, limping through each aching step.

“You’ll see!”

Forma giggled in excitement as we walked through the centre of the city.

“You’re making me nervous,” I remarked, as her smile grew more and more sly.

“Just be patient!” she urged as we approached the staircase that led to the dojo. I stopped in apprehension.

“You’re not going to make me practice again, are you?”

Forma laughed.

“No I’m not. I swear. Just come!”

I tentatively followed her through the door and into the enormous dojo. She turned on the lights immediately and pulled me to the left, proceeding to walk through a small hallway and then up a narrow staircase.

“Forma, how long have you been out?” I asked, marvelling at how well she knew her way around.

“Someone told me about this, I didn’t discover it on my own. You’ll be so excited when you see it!”

Forma took me through two more corridors before we finally entered a hall with red carpets and dark wood pillars in between elaborate portraits of previous Shadows warriors. I then had a sinking suspicion as to what exactly Forma had discovered.

“Here!” she said, pulling me toward a portrait on the far right wall. A man stood dressed in his hunting gear, holding his bow and short sword like a well-trained warrior. His light skin shone brightly under the dark war paint but even brighter than his skin were his eyes: starkly gray under a mop of long, unkempt dark hair.

“God Almighty…” I whispered in shock. “My father…”

Forma smiled as she beheld my shocked reaction.

“Freyja brought me here!”

I reached up to touch the painting when without warning it suddenly changed. My strong and proud father suddenly transformed into a tall, powerful Graylight Dragon and gave a great roar that echoed through the empty halls, rattling the other paintings.

I flinched in shock and jumped backwards. Once I had, the Dragon faded and my father became himself again.

“Only a blood relative may cause the painting to change.”

Forma and I turned around and saw the witch doctor standing at the opposite end of the hall, smiling broadly.

“W—why?” I stuttered stupidly. “Why did it change?”

“Why do you change?” asked the witch doctor cryptically. “We all change, why should paintings be any different?”

I looked at Forma, confused at his strange reply. She shrugged, sharing my bewilderment.

The witch doctor then walked closer, studying me with uncomfortable scrutiny.

“And you certainly have changed much…have a nice day, Miss Echo,” he said as he walked away.

“Wait! Why do you say that?” I asked.

The witch doctor just laughed as he walked down the hallway and disappeared around the corner. I exchanged a brief glance of intrigued confusion with Forma.

“Go,” she pushed with a smile, reading the eagerness in my eyes.

A split second later I took off after the witch doctor, eager for someone to explain to me exactly what it was that I was forbidden to know.