"Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that."
― Martin Luther King Jr., Strength to Love
The Gray Shadow
The first time Lunafreya Nox Fleuret felt the presence of the gray shadow, she thought she was merely tired. She felt a cold shiver sweep all through her body, and a malevolence and rage unlike any she had ever encountered followed it. That was at a gathering place with a large crowd, but nothing untoward happened. She rested for the night and felt normal again the next day.
But the following month, she felt the same feeling again. It was as perfectly unmistakable as the difference between being doused in summer rain versus burning tar. Whatever this was, it was no normal human. Nor a normal god. Nor a normal anything. Sui generis. She asked Gentiana what it might be. Gentiana's placid face became troubled.
"Already he approaches," she said, in her cryptic manner.
"Who?" Lunafreya asked at once. In later years she would become more patient, but she was young and bursting with energy and questions.
"The Accursed," said Gentiana. "An immortal creature born of man, but now so thoroughly corrupted even death is denied him."
"That must be horrible," said Lunafreya, again voicing her first thought. "Is there nothing that can ease his suffering?"
Gentiana shook her head. "Suffer? We do not think he feels pain."
"That isn't what I meant." Also, you don't think he feels pain? she did not add.
"When the prophecy is fulfilled and the true king ascends to his throne, all those in thrall of darkness shall know peace," said Gentiana, in her mystifying way.
Lunafreya thought for a moment. "Will he try to hurt me?"
Gentiana did not have an answer for her. However, as the years passed, he never did attempt to harm her, or even speak with her.
Lunafreya discovered that she could always tell when the Accursed was in a crowd, even though he never approached her. It didn't take her long to figure out who it was. A tall, striking-looking man with wild purple-red hair would stand out in most crowds. But she always knew he was there long before she actually saw him.
One memorable day, an assassin tried to kill her with a dagger. It was the Accursed who stopped the assassin, by conjuring a weapon from nowhere, stabbing him, and then vanishing the weapon again in a matter of seconds. Oddly, the Accursed did not wear his own face for this occasion. For whatever reason, that day he had chosen to be smaller, with dark, curly hair. Job done, he melted back into the crowd and vanished as thoroughly as the weapon he'd conjured. Nonetheless, Lunafreya was sure it was him. She wondered if he could sense her in the same way, or if he was just following her public travel schedule.
Eventually she got used to the feeling, in the same way that a flavor which is disgusting on first taste may become tolerated, and even anticipated, after many repetitions. Nearly every minute of every day was shared with someone; she had very few secrets. Knowing that she and she alone could sense this presence - however peculiar - was a bit of excitement in a life that contained very little "off-book" time.
Sometimes she wondered if he was going to take her away. Perhaps he was a dragon come to kidnap her, and Noctis would be her knight. The Chosen King versus The Accursed One. She smiled dreamily, enjoying these thoughts that were her only private possessions.