Shadows Beneath the Skin

The ruin lingered behind Alden like a wound that refused to close. Though his feet carried him forward, his mind remained trapped—haunted by the reflection, the woman's sorrowful eyes, and the fear that had stared back at him from the pool's depths.

Night pressed closer, though it was hard to tell in this world where twilight reigned eternal. Shadows lengthened and twisted, creeping like dark fingers across the ground. They reached for him, but he refused to falter. He could not.

Find me.

The words still echoed in his mind, soft and fragile like a dying ember, but filled with unbearable weight.

He would find her. No matter the cost.

The path ahead was uncertain, winding between jagged rocks and skeletal trees, their branches clawing at the sky. Yet Alden pressed on. His sword was a steady weight against his back, a silent companion, though he wondered if it, too, remembered more of his past than he did.

Soon, the path opened into a narrow clearing, shrouded in mist. The air turned colder, heavy with the scent of iron and ash. There, in the center of the clearing, stood a stone monolith—tall, cracked, and veined with ancient symbols glowing faintly beneath the moss.

A presence lingered there. Watching. Waiting.

Alden’s hand instinctively went to his sword hilt, though he did not draw it. Steel alone could not cut through shadows.

As he stepped closer, the mist coiled tighter, and a figure emerged from the haze. Not the Keeper. Not a shadow. Something… worse.

It was shaped like a man but wrong in every way. Its body was draped in tattered cloth, black as pitch. Its face was featureless, except for a single, gaping mouth that stretched from ear to ear. And from that maw, a chorus of whispers poured out—voices that were not its own.

Alden stopped, his heart hammering. The whispers clawed at the edge of his mind, digging deep, threading through old wounds.

“Who… are you?” Alden’s voice was hoarse, uncertain.

The creature’s head tilted, like a beast scenting prey. And then, the whispers shaped into words.

“We are your shadow,” it hissed. “We are what you left behind.”

Alden’s hand tightened on his sword. “I left nothing behind.”

The creature laughed, a sound like bone grinding against stone. “You forget because you fear. But fear does not change the truth. It only buries it.”

Alden shook his head. “I don’t care about truth. I only care about finding her.”

The creature’s mouth split wider, as if in mockery. “You cannot find her. Not while you carry the shadow beneath your skin.”

Alden drew his sword, its steel gleaming dull in the mist. “Then I’ll cut it free.”

The shadow did not move, did not flinch. “You cannot kill what you refuse to face.”

And then it lunged.

Alden swung, but the blade passed through mist and shadow. The creature dissolved and reformed behind him, laughter echoing from its hollow throat. Claws of darkness lashed out, scraping across Alden’s shoulder. Fire lanced through his flesh, but he refused to fall.

He spun, striking again. The blade met resistance, slicing through shadow, and the creature shrieked—an unholy sound that rattled the earth. Black mist spilled from the wound, but it did not fall.

“You are weak,” it spat. “You cannot kill us. You are us.”

Alden’s grip faltered. The words coiled around him, sharp and cold. Was it true? Was this thing a part of him? The fear, the darkness he refused to face?

The shadow struck again, knocking him to the ground. Pain lanced through his ribs, and the sword clattered from his grasp.

The creature loomed over him. “You can only destroy me by accepting me. By facing the truth you fear most.”

Its hand reached for him, black mist swirling around its fingers.

But Alden wasn’t ready to surrender.

With a growl, he snatched up a shard of stone and drove it into the creature’s chest. Light flared, blinding, and the shadow screamed—its form unraveling into mist and ash.

And then, it was gone.

Alden lay gasping, the stone shard still clenched in his hand. The clearing was silent once more. The mist retreated, as though fearing his defiance.

But though the shadow had fallen, its words lingered.

You are us. You are weak.

Alden rose, his breath ragged. He pressed a hand to his wounded shoulder, wincing as his fingers brushed raw skin. The wound burned, but it was more than physical. It felt deeper, like something buried within him had been torn open.

He turned back to the monolith, its surface still glowing faintly. His reflection stared back at him from the stone’s slick surface, but it was wrong—eyes too dark, mouth too grim. A stranger’s face.

Or perhaps his own.

A memory flickered at the edge of his mind, sharp and painful. A woman’s face, half-shrouded in shadow. Her voice, soft and broken.

"You promised me."

Alden staggered back. The pain in his head grew sharper, a vice closing around his thoughts. But the memory refused to come fully into focus. It stayed just beyond reach.

Frustration burned. He wanted to remember. He needed to remember.

But the shadow’s words echoed louder than his resolve.

"You cannot kill what you refuse to face."

Gritting his teeth, Alden turned away from the monolith. There would be no answers here. Only more questions. Only more darkness.

And yet, the path forward wasn’t clearer. It was darker than ever.

But he would walk it still. Because in the distance, beyond the ruin and shadow, something waited.

Her.

The one who whispered in his dreams. The one whose face stirred memories he could barely grasp.

And though the shadow inside him stirred and whispered, though fear burned beneath his skin, Alden would not stop.

Not until he knew the truth.

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