In case you don't know, our main character hasn't told anyone his name. Not even Frederick.

I crouched down, pick up the bag, and open it, and everything is there, even the book, and I feel something strange. In fact, it seems unsettling to me that absolutely nothing was taken out of my bag, that all that had happened, and that I still don't know who this person is or why they are doing this. Well, I suppose I do know this person, but not really. I just know that they're a stubborn man with no sense of maturity, with what I assume is an ego the size of their head.

Okay, now I'm just making up a very infuriating personality for them, but can you blame me?

With a sigh, I get up, ready to exit the alleyway. I don't have any intention of going back to the council house. They're probably waiting there for me to explain what happened, but as I have no clear explanation, and I don't appreciate being accused for something I did not do, I decided that going home was the most comforting option. At least I could get enough silence in my house.

It's a quiet walk back to my house. The lamplights are dim as the flames were small, not nearly as big as the ones in the cities. I walked slower than usual, as the sound of my shoes against the pavement startled me, as if it would alert unwanted attention, and I trust my guts, since it was usually right.

Of course, my guts were proven right.

I was going through an alley that I usually took as a short-cut, when the alarms started flashing red and green and blue, blinking furiously that forced me to close my eyes, as the irritation was something I was unable to handle, and the council probably knew that and used it to their advantage. Annoyed, I ran, already so used to darkness that even the faintest sounds were able to guide me through the route that I had long since memorized. Darkness was something I lived with everyday, and I had learned to be able to see with my eyes closed. With the click of my tongue, or a faint breeze, my surroundings were outlined right over the back of my eyelids in bright purple, and I could see the houses, the lamplights, the dogs barking behind an unsteady fence, and my house, not too far ahead of me.

When I had finally reached it, I unlocked the door and only opened it a crack, clicking my tongue, visualizing everything in my house. There was nothing out of the ordinary, and it was safe to assume that the council had not gotten their permission from the global government. If they had, there would have been soldiers lined up the front of my door, not that they were really experienced, as it would have been a rare moment in time for them to actually fight someone, a teenage shadow-boy no less. Of course, that would not change the fact that they were undoubtedly stronger than me, as they actually went through training.

Once inside my house, I opened my eyes, letting them adjust. It wasn't hard, it barely had any light flowing through the room. I hadn't turned on the lights. I wouldn't need one until I read my book.

I walked into my room, and since I know I won't be able to leave for a long time, and I knew that the global government would not give permission to the council, as they have no injuries and therefore have no reason to enter my household against my will, I thought that maybe it would be best to relax and wait for the outcome of this all. I climbed into my bed and kicked off my shoes, not bothering with any of my other garments, and searched through my drawer for a book-light, or, that's what I like to call it, since it's really just like a flashlight that I had read about, but miniature, with a strap to attach to the wrist. It had a charger as well, but there was no outlets in the town structures, so I usually charged it at the cabin, since it still gets power from an abandoned felicity that was ran underground. It was called a power plant above ground, but I don't know the name for the underground ones.

I opened up my bag and took out the book, turning on the book-light and clenching it between my teeth as I ran a hand over it's velvety claret cover, tracing my finger over the curly golden letters printed over. It read; The History of Souls. It was a book that I had stared at, but was afraid, as it had splotches of blood rimming the old, yellowing pages, and it terrified me to think that it may have been the real reason the library had been shut down. There was many illogical things with that theory, though, as why the book was left there in the first place if it was the reason, and why they would have let the library continue a while longer in the first place.

I flipped over the cover, reading the names of the previous owners in the book, skimming them, one, using them as a distraction from the marching footsteps outside, lining up in rows all around my house, crouching down and cocking their weapons, pretending like they were used to this. Distractions. It's all I need to feel at peace.

With that in mind, I flip to the next page, being greeted by a beautiful, glossy picture, it's color quite preserved compared to the other yellowing pages. The picture was of whips of cloudy colors, small shapes and symbols unique to each colorful storm, every storm shaping itself in some sort of emotion. I admired the beauty of the picture, and I ran my thumb over the bottom of it, noticing that the clouds were blowing away from the bottom of the painting, and towards the bottom they all faded into white. Towards the top, however, the colors darkened and darkened until they all went black. It confused me, and I contemplated the meaning for a moment more, wondering as usual, until I finally decided that if I wanted to understand it's meaning, I would have to read the book.

I flipped past the table of contents and start at page one.

Every human being has a soul. Every soul traces it's existence towards a factor of life. Every main factor other than darkness produces souls and sends them off to a human being on earth as they are born. The six main factors of life are the four elements; fire, water, air, and terra, with an added two factors; light, and darkness.

I knitted my eyebrows together, slowly processing this new information. So the powers today that human beings have are us coming in contact with the source of our soul? And if so, then I must have been born from darkness. But then, wouldn't that mean that the book is wrong?

No. That would mean that the book had used facts that were believed true at the time. And I don't blame author. Even now, I am the only known being to be able to control darkness. Or, somewhat control it, that is. It tends to control itself at times, and I am unable to stop that, no matter how hard I train at taming it.

Sighing, I continue to read.

The most common source to souls is light.

Well, no kidding.

Light, a long time ago, was considered the more dominant and superior factor due to it's fast reproduction and vast population.

Haha, very funny. It still is.

However, today it is shown that light is, in all actuality, the weakest factor of all. The strongest soul so far known in society is a man who spins his source from fire. He is from a long line of a family that all, coincidentally, are produced with souls from the fire factor. This is the famous family known as the Beilschmidt family. There is a rumor that there is only one male in the family every 100 or so years that it born with a different factor.

As I continued reading, something in my room tipped over.

With my heart suddenly beating very quickly, I rushed to hide the book and turn off the book-light. Closing my eyes, I clicked my tongue, listening to the noise bouncing back. There was no movement in the room. I reopened my eyes, eyeing everything, looking, as my eyes quickly adjusted to the dark setting.

"Who's there?"

By this time, I was fairly certain it wasn't the government. They were still outside, waiting for me to stupidly exit the building. No, there was no soldier inside my house. They were only outside, ready too apprehend me.

It's then that I catch sight of the glowing, crimson orbs, and I suck in a breath, my blood running cold, and I shiver as I stare at those orbs, them staring right back. I choke, trying to find words of some sort, to question or comment about anything, and what came out sounded like a sloppy mess of syllables, and it was quite embarrassing.

"Thanks... For, you know, the bag. Thanks for giving it back, I mean."

It was awkward for a moment, and I decided I liked it better this way, staring at him, waiting for his response, rather than staring at each other, both of us unable to come up with anything to say.

There was the sound of fingers snapping, and a dim light had brightened up a small portion of the room, stretching far enough for the other's face to be visible. At first, I had thought it was a white light illuminating the room, but a second afterwards I realized that, no, this was most certainly not a simple white light. It had a temperature, and it wasn't completely controlled. The other's breath moved it about, and I knew it was a flame. And yet, there was no candle. The only thing keeping the fire up was the other's index finger.

He climbed up unto the bed, and when I attempted to scoot away, pushing the pillow back, he grabbed one of my legs and dragged me towards him, resting me atop his lap.

"I'm Gilbert."

I stared at him for a moment, studying his features, eying the dark circles under his eyes that I had not taken noticed before. He was not smiling like he had before; If anything, his expression was emotionless and unreadable. All I could tell was that he was studying me as well, and I felt terrified all of a sudden.

"I'm Shadow."

"No. No, you're not. You're no one's shadow. You're-" His voice cracked, and he paused to regain himself. "You're real... You're a someone."

A shiver ran down my spine, and my hands went up to grab my arms, protective all of a sudden, and I gulped down a shaking lump in my throat. His voice wasn't meant to comfort me at all. It was almost like he was telling himself that. Like he couldn't believe that I was a real thing. That I was living, and breathing, and existing.

Feeling light-headed, I rested my head against his shoulder.

"You... Who are you? What do you want from me? I'm no one special."

"You're very special."

He didn't elaborate. He simply sat where he was, holding the flame to his side, letting me have a good look at it.

"How do you know that?"

"Did that book not explain?"

My head shot up, and I felt the flame barely graze by my cheek.

"You went through my bag?"

"You were the one acting suspicious. You deliberately left the bag with me after you realized that they wouldn't check me. It sounded like you were hiding something."

And I had to admit, I did act quite suspicious.

"Why were you at the council house? And were you the one who broke all the lightbulbs? If so, you better take responsibility. Sooner or later the government is going to let them jail me, and you just raised the likeliness of that very high."

"I still thought there was something suspicious about you. I went to see if there was anything out of the ordinary." Gilbert took in a deep breath, his memory seemingly tracing back to that point of time. "Darkness was just... There were people. But there weren't. They were... They were dark clouds of shadow people. And they all just started blanching off of you."

"Is that what you meant by special? If so, there is nothing special about that."

"There is." There was so much firmness in his voice that I didn't dare disagree. He opened his mouth, but shut it again, thinking over his words carefully, and he settled with hanging his head down low, resting it against my chest.

"You have no idea how long I've been searching for you."

I stiffened, frozen in a confused world where I couldn't figure out how to act. Instead of moving to pat his head or push him away, sat still, and before I realized it, my lips were moving, leaking out what I thought I'd never say to someone.

"I'm Roderich."