Cearbhail:

We're on chapter two now. You've had some introduction to Nexa and Vatu. If you've read the other story... you should already know them. So... time to meet someone new! Well... for now anyway.

Enjoy. =^^=

[Nakuma]

Shadow journal entry 1,

Shadowwraith: An Argonian witch/wizard. They are masters of the Shadow Arts, and they are placed in squads of shadowscales and shadowblades. Their primary function is to assist with the missions using magic to locate traps/persons ahead. If in case a shadowscale is captured, the shadowwraith is tasked with either freeing the captured shadowscale or eliminate them. If a shadowscale is injured in combat, a shadowwraith must render Restoration aid to said shadowscale. That is our job: support. We are support: the quiet voice in the back of the squad that does a lot but never gets recognized for it. Using our mystical arts, we can also: see through walls, detect every being anywhere nearby, conjure food, turn everyone invisible, and teleport everyone out of a hotspot. We are the backbone of assassination squads. Sometimes we have to do the assassinating. But you'll never hear about it. Hist forbid the Shadowwraiths get any recognition for their dedication to the magical murdering arts when it's the Shadowscale poster child that learns how to twirl a knife and suddenly becomes the hero of our realm.

Shadowscale: The soldier of the Argonian army. Specialized army: assassins. They operate as the backbone in the assassination squads. They do all the grunt work. They are nothing more than know-it-alls about the body and the many thousand ways it can bleed. Very barbaric in nature, strong-willed, hate shadowwraiths, and have a fondness for causing pain to anyone not a shadowscale or a shadowblade. Always assholes. I've never met a nice one. They like to pick Shadowwraith trainees up by their loincloth and string them up on Hist branches, or throw us in the mud, or stuff us in lockers. Or burn our books. That sort of stuff.

Shadowblade: The squad leaders of the assassination squads. Shadowblades are specially trained shadowscales and shadowwraiths crossed-trained into the other's field of study after10 years of service, if eligible for cross-training. Training regimen is rigorous, and most do not pass the requirements. Being a Shadowblade is a tremendous honor. Once they master the other's shadow arts studies, they become squad leaders operating their designated squads. They are very knowledgeable and have no hatred of either side. They understand both sides of thinking so can easily explain orders to each side of the squad with no problem. They also take on separate assignments with shadowmasters when the target is too strong for shadowscales and shadowwraiths. Most Shadowblades are born into their roles, because most Shadowblades are related to Shadowmasters, usually their children. Even so, they understand how to lead, so there's that at least.

Shadowmaster. Just what it sounds like. They are shadowblades that have served for 20 years, or in the case of some naturally gifted Argonians, born into their role. They are the royal guard of the Queen and Warlord. Becoming a Shadowmaster means becoming a noble house in Argonia. And their children will most likely be trained as Shadowblades, or other high-tier classes of honor. Shadowmasters also take on solo assignments across Tamriel, doing high level espionage, assassination, and magical studies. Being allowed to drink the royal Hist sap from the Lilmoth Grand Elder Hist grants them special powers most other Argonians can never fathom having. They are the top level of all Argonian shadow arts. No one can beat them in a fight, unless you take every shadowblade alive and throw them against one shadowmaster. Then it might happen. But then again, it's never happened. Only a Shadowmaster is able to beat a Shadowmaster.

The Shadow Squad: An special forces invasion squad comprised of three shadowscales, two Shadowwraiths, and one Shadowblade. As history knows it, one Shadowmaster usually oversees the team, giving orders and such. The Shadow Squad is comprised of the best of the best newest recruits, handpicked by a council of Shadowmasters, The Warlord, and the Queen of Shadows. The team is responsible for all sorts of espionage and wartime operations. One hasn't been used since the Magicka Cannon incident in Summerset Isles in 3e 341, 8th Sun's Height.

Nakuma Vaqonala, Shadowwraith-in-training

…

I closed my new shadow journal, closing and rubbing my eyes as I did so. I leaned back in my chair, taking in a sharp breath. Just one more week. Just one more! In one week, I would be done with all this training and become a full shadowwraith. And with the application for the Shadow Squad hanging in the balance… well… I don't know what to think. There's been talk that two Shadowwraiths from our school's graduating class will be taken to the Shadow Squad. I'm top of the class… so… it'll probably be me. That makes me nervous. I just wanted a nice post in a magical research department… and then the news of some angelic flying monster was invading Tamriel started becoming whispers in the local food courts. All the students were talking about it, speculating what was true, what was speculation, what was rumor, and what was… hidden. Don't want us students freaking out during a time of war. I'm sure the rumors of the angelic Orcs being completely magicka-proof are… unfounded. Maybe. I don't know. I don't want to find out. I really don't want to find out.

The desk in front of me was covered with several books on incantations, alchemy ingredients, soul-forming, and sprit-weaving. The soul-forming book gave me the structure I needed to start my shadow journal. You can't just grab a journal and start writing in it. It must first be imbued with your soul. It has to be a part of you. That's what I just did. It took my first step to creating a shadow journal. Now, I just had to keep it alive and in turn…I would stay alive…in memory at least. Every shadowwraith has to make one. When the shadowwraith passes on, the shadow journals are collected and put in the shadow-arcanum library. We often refer to the shadow journals and speak with a 'ghost' of the owner. They have all the memories of their lives and give personality/memory driven answers to questions. It's almost like talking to the real person, only these are memories and not ghosts. I spent a few nights talking to the memories of Shadows passed, and yet… none of them recall these blue Orc monsters. No one has information on them, and that freaks me out. We're facing something never before faced. Any sane Argonian would pack up their bags and hide underwater.

And yet… here I sit… in my chair… waiting for my chance to take my last exam. My final exam. There was only one more training simulation to go through. If I survived that, I would become a shadowwraith. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I couldn't stop thinking about the exam, the war… my place in it… and the Shadow Squad. If I succeed… I'll become a noble. That's how it works. The Shadow Squad is a noble squad… made up of nobles. We're like Shadowmasters in a way… only… we're the Shadow Squad. We're all Shadowblades. Sooner or later. That's how it works. Or… we die. Like all the rest before us. If we survive to the end… we're nobles. I'll… I'll be a noble.

I looked down at the application form for the Shadow Squad. My name was already filled in. Everything was filled in. Hand-delivered to me. I didn't even know about it until last week. My top status in the class drew the attention of Shadowmaster Jinehm, the headmaster of the Shadow Magic Institute. She dropped the application on my desk last week and said that if I passed the Soul Chamber, that I would be adopted into the Shadow Squad Program. Great… just what I never wanted. And… just what my family needed.

I've always been the prize for my family. Born a Mage… probably on purpose, knowing my family and how they're both… well… Mages that worked in Magic Development, they spent a lot of time studying the constellations. I've always speculated that my parents forced me to be born as a Mage by predicting when my egg would hatch, and if the Mage birthsign would be shining that night. And… I was born under the Mage birthsign, and so… everyone in my family is a Mage, except Mom. She's an Atronach. She's the one that knows astrology.

So, because of my parents, even before the academy, I spent a lot of time studying Shadow magicka. And I picked up Shadow like it was nothing. I was called a prodigy. My parents basically groomed me for this job. My brother was already a Mage serving in Lilmoth, and I hoped I would get stationed with him. I miss my brother. He was three years older than me, and I only saw him from time to time for two years before he graduated. I haven't seen him since. If I get accepted into the Shadow Squad… I'll probably never see him again. Maybe… if I survive.

"Are you ready for the final trial?" Oleeme asked as he rushed up to me. He was close enough to make me jump back, grabbing my shadow journal and shoving it into my chest. He caught me off guard, when I was too busy thinking about my future to hear him coming. He had a giant smile on his lips. He always smiled whenever he was about to do something to me. He's my main tormentor here at the academy… also the hardest student to put up with. He's the slacker. Always joking around, always pranking others. And he loves to prank me the most. Other than that, he's… decent. It's not like we're friends, not really. We're just classmages, and since I'm class top, he picks on me the most. I think he's jealous.

I clutched my journal closer to me. If he got any closer and he saw this thing…he'd probably snatch it. He's always like that.

Just as I had predicted, once his eyes narrowed onto my journal, his smile curled upwards, becoming a mischievous sneer. He snapped his fingers and suddenly a bright light flashed in front of my eyes. I screamed out in minor discomfort and threw my hands up to cover my now-blinded eyes.

"Yoink." He said casually as he snatched the journal off of my lap. I still couldn't see anything but I stuck my hand out anyway. If he was going to be so persistent in teasing me, I was going to have to hurt him a little.

"Give it back or I'll set you aflame!" I screamed to the empty air. Oleeme chuckled in response. "Fine!" I screamed, thrusting my palm out, willing fire to scorch the air in front of me with purple flames.

I could hear the fire roaring in front of me, but Oleeme was laughing while he dodged my attacks. Every time I heard his laugh change, I directed my other palm over to him, to blast him. It wasn't lethal fire, it would just burn his robes enough to where he'd be coverless. Then the other shadowwraiths would see him in his underwear and he'd run off embarrassed. Classic revenge. And something I would find appropriate for what he's been doing to me all five years of us growing up with each other.

Oh yeah… that's something I never mentioned. We're assigned classmages when we first register, and they basically become our brothers and sisters while we study together for the next five years. Most of our classmages end up dating and engaged before they even graduate. So far, only three people in our class are dating each other. I won't tell you how that's happening, I'll let you figure that out. Anyway, I've grown up with Oleeme over here. He's like my… brother, kind of. If my brother ever pulled my feathers and flipped my skirt up whenever I passed by him in the hallway. All the books I've read seem to indicate that he likes me, but… that's bullshit. If he liked me, he wouldn't torment me.

"So, your first entry into your new shadow journal, and you choose to typecast our different squadmates?" Oleeme asked, almost regretfully. "For my first entry I chose to write about my experience in this training program."

I rubbed my blurry eyes, finally getting some of my sight back. I blinked again and again, but each time my vision grew blurrier. I can't kill him, I still need to pass my final exam. I'll kill him later. I closed my eyes and sighed. "So, what did you write then?" Fair is fair.

"Oh? Hmm, mostly about the countless hours I spent in solitary confinement. Some of it was about the other hours of the day where I was not sleeping because I had to master spells that could shatter lesser minds." Oleeme's voice took a darker tone to it. He hated this training. Hell, he didn't ask to be born in the shadowwraith training program…none of us did. And he took out his frustration on the class top… which was me. I was the thing he hated… the perfect student. The class was supposed to follow my example, and because I set a fantastic example… it meant he had to be pushed even harder to catch up with me. Most of the students here hate me because of it. Oleeme's not the only one that torments me. I'm the class target for bullying. But… I'm used to it by now. My reward will be to never see them again. Any of them. Except whoever goes into the Shadow Squad with me.

We were born into our role, as were the shadowscales. Pretty much every Argonian was born into their role. I was born under the Mage sign. That birthsign meant that I was…born to become a shadowwraith. Each birthsign had a different job required of it. Well…some signs were very flexible. One sign could open up several fields of study. Like the Lady: cooking, cleaning, laundry, basic maid stuff. All Argonians born under that sign were servants or common folk. Those born under the Tower were standard security/peace officers. They patrolled our pathways, barriers, and towns keeping the peace and keeping out intruders. The others were a little more confusing. We had some Rituals who joined us, but most others were trained as healers. Oleeme was born under the Atronach sign. Realistically, he was supposed to become a magical guardian. A peacekeeper of magical studies, or an investigator. But he was here, outside his normal training parameters. We needed more shadowwraiths that year. Argonian politics are like that.

I opened my eyes, finally able to see again. My pink scales on my hand were darkened from blasting so much fire magicka. I thought I had built up calluses but I guess I just burned them off. I squeezed my hands into tight fists, happy to feel that my hands weren't cramping up. I had a nasty habit of overextending my magic on Oleeme when he annoys me. Or whenever our group decides to gang up on me. I know we can breathe underwater, but… toilet water does not breathe well. And whenever my group just happens to be in the bathroom around the same time I go in… I know I'm about to use my magicka to send them all to the White Robe's chambers. They're our healers.

Oleeme stood in front of me, all smiles, his eyes glued shut in anticipation. He was waiting for me to school him. He wanted me to expend my energy on him. He probably wanted to get under my skin before my examination… make me fail. Too bad there was something he said earlier that still rung somewhere in the back of my mind. "Wait…what did you say to me when you walked up?"

He was about to answer my question when we heard, "Ghoul Nakuma, Ghoul Oleeme! Don't dawdle about! Your final trial has come. The Soul Chamber awaits." Our watcher, Shadowwraith Gualnzena, walked up from behind a bookcase. She had on her customary purple robes with outstretched sleeves, laced with golden runes on the sleeves. She wore the standard pointy hat that was almost as tall as her. Yes, we do dress in full witch robes and pointy hats. Some of us even learn to fly on brooms.

The Soul Chamber. The one thing that can make or break a shadowwraith. Now, we spent punishment time in the Shadow Chamber. It was a room made in the shadow void. All sound was deafened to nothing, all magic silenced, all senses rendered nothing. But more than that, every thought you had was magnified beyond measure. It was harsh enough to feel through your head even with no sounds in play. It took utter concentration to survive longer than 1 minute in that place. So far Oleeme has clocked more time in solitary than I have. I don't know how he pulls through.

The Soul Chamber was a completely different animal. It was not in the shadow void, but in the soul void. It was a room that glowed in thousands of illuminated colors. All your senses are overstretched and every thought silenced. You couldn't think but instead…you had to feel everything. People changed inside that place. People who hide from themselves cannot hide any longer. It was a place of shattered dreams and lost emotional trauma. And being from Argonia…we all had some massive emotional baggage.

Oleeme glanced over at me, his browless eyes arching in anticipation. "Ooh.." He said spookily. "The Soul Chamber. Seriously…how bad can it be?"

Gualnzena smiled through her tight yellow skin. She nodded and said, "That's the spirit, Oleeme. Keep that up and we'll make a good shadowwraith out of you yet." She patted him on the back and looked over at me. "His turn is next. Yours will follow. Meet us by the Soul Chamber in one hour."

Oleeme chuckled. "Yeah, see you in one hour." He made me a face that showed just how unprepared he was for this. I did the research. He was not ready. I'm not ready.

I couldn't help but get a shaking feeling that…I was never going to see him ever again. I couldn't explain it, but something was going to go wrong. I glanced down at the application form for the Shadow Squad. Well… I don't want to see him again. I hope he gets punished for everything he's ever done to me.

…

[Nexa]

"This is where you will sleep. Your footlocker is at the end of the bed, as you'd expect. Your suit of armor is being crafted currently. Since you are the daughter of the Warlord, you get the specially crafted weapons to your liking. You are also up for Shadowblade promotion if you succeed in your first mission. Even if you lack the title you will be doing playing the role of Shadowblade. If you listen to me, do as I say, you'll be back to your shadowblade rank in no time…dear daughter."

I obediently nodded to my father as he hovered near my bed. The bed was the same as I remembered it. Boring black sheets made of a rubbery silk. Bland dark green comforter made of the same material. It was the only material that didn't stick to our scales and did not tear when we shifted our weight or when we moved. The footlocker at the end of the bed was almost as big as me. Inside would be all the clothes I had before I left on my apprenticeship with Shadowmaster Julanza. I wonder if they'll all still fit. Most of them were updated throughout the years, but… I was 13 when I last stepped foot in this room long enough to buy new clothes for it. Nothing but normal Argonian trampy teenager outfits that were probably deemed 'unbecoming of a member of the royal family' were in that footlocker.

My father looked at me, hoping to draw out some sort of reply. So, I nodded and brushed my long purple feathers away from my eyes. "Thanks, Warlord."

He hesitated before nodding. "You have one hour before your hearing starts. Dress appropriately. Don't you even dare showing up wearing anything other than the dress I ordered for you. If I see you waltz into the royal chambers wearing your old…unbefitting clothes, you will be put back in chains before you can blink."

I nodded again. "Yes, father. I understand."

He pointed down at my tail, if you could call it that. It had grown in a bit since my tailing, but even so… it was a lightly colored eye-sore. "And get to a White Robe. See if you can help that along. Wouldn't want anyone to think my daughter is a deviant. As far as anyone knows… you were on assignment."

I shrugged. "My tail became used as a weapon against me; someone had me pinned by grabbing my tail, and I couldn't Shadowport without taking him with me… so I slashed off my tail." I shrugged again. "There… easy explanation. Happens all the time."

Father sneered at me. "And as always… you excel at lying." He turned, flapping his cape as he marched out of my room.

He trudged out of my old room and I found myself sinking onto my bed. I closed my eyes and just let my back sink into the soft cushion that used to be my bed. It was the most comfortable thing I've put my butt on in ages. Considering I've been chained to a wall for the past week, the chains only being slackened when I was eating…anything would feel good right now. But this was special, this was the bed I slept in as a child. It sure felt good to be home, in my old room no doubt. He wasn't kidding when he said that I got my old chambers back. I did, my childhood room. It used to have a roommate, Brixcausu. He was one of the shadowwraiths in training. Something happened to him right before I left for the Arcane University. No one would tell me what, but it involved his final trial. Being trained outside of the classic schools, I never knew what the shadowscale or shadowwraith camps were like. I had homeschooling, direct training from the shadowmasters themselves. Needless to say, my training was probably harder.

After I let a few slow breaths escape, I curled up in my sheets. I don't know how long I just lied there, wrapped up comfortably, but within what I thought were a few minutes there was a knock on my door. I sat up and called them in. The door opened up and a few maids rushed in with my dress. It was a very formal militant dress. It was a simple dark purple dress that was as curvy as I was. It was the type of dress that no one would wear casually, only to very formal events. I wondered how long my father had been preparing it. Probably since he threw me in jail. Either that or he had it made just a few minutes ago.

The older maid bowed to me and said, "It is a pleasure to serve you again, Princess Nexauvia."

I bowed to her and smiled. "Beautrishu, you know me by now. Call me Nexa."

She bowed lower. "I cannot do that, Princess." She smiled deeper and nodded to me. "Is there anything else you require?"

"How long until the hearing?" I asked as I started feeling the light silky material that made up the dress. Like most of our clothes and sheets, it was made from the same silky/rubbery fabric that wore nicely against our scales and spikes, as well as the swampy water that was always around us.

Beautrishu looked back at the younger maid and the younger maid whispered something to her. She must have been new. New servants are usually afraid to speak around royalty unless it's for official business that can't be handled by the older staff.

Beautrishu looked back at me and said, "The hearing is not scheduled today. Something came up and they had to cancel it. The note denotes the schedule change. Pay close attention to it, Princess. You have physical training tomorrow with Shadowmaster Julanza. He insists that you get a good night's sleep."

I nodded. "And… what day is it?" I wanted to know exactly how long I was hanging in those chains.

"Today is the 18th of First Seed, Princess." Beautrishu said with a smile.

So… I was imprisoned on the 13th… tailed that night and scaled before being strapped in those electrified chains. So… five nights and six days. Damn…

That sucked… but it's over. I'm glad it over. The fact that my hearing was cancelled also filled my heart with joy. A night to just relax. My stomach twisted just as fast as I realized that I was free tonight. Beautrishu heard my stomach growl and bowed. "Yes, milady. I will bring your usual. Anything special you wish to request?"

I nodded to her. "Yes, I am hungry for some Senchal noodles and Corinth style steak."

"Ah, feel like eating Khajiiti cuisine tonight?" Beautrishu said with a knowing grin. Jeez… with how quickly gossip goes around here, I'm not surprised.

I hid my smile by turning away. "Something like that. Ok, ladies, you're dismissed."

Both of the maids bowed in unison before backing out through the door.

Once they were out of my new old room, I turned my attention to the note attached to the dress. If I remembered what Beautrishu said about this note, it was a notice about my new training schedule as well as my reassigned execution hearing. Well, previous execution hearing. This hearing was more like a reinstatement hearing. Father was going to address the court with my new position as a shadowscale upholding a shadowblade's role. Since I was royalty and he the…well…Warlord, he could do anything he wanted. Hopefully the more politically active parties wouldn't take this chance to burn me for a supposed crime that I cannot be honestly proven to have done. Since Shadowmaster Trianna and his mother Jinehm would be there… I'm guessing the cancellation was more for my sake then my father's. Or both of our sakes. Two angry Shadowmasters… not a good thing.

I pulled the note off my dress, and I could tell it was Julanza's handwriting already. Once I opened it, I could easily read.

Princess Nexauvia,

Tonight's hearing has been cancelled due to the Queen saying she wanted the night off. It is scheduled to mid-afternoon tomorrow, three hours after our morning workout. In your footlocker, you will find all your trampy clothes replaced with actually training attire. If you want your trampy clothes back in one piece…do not miss a single assignment, do not give anyone any lip, and do not fail when I tell you to succeed. I will see you bright in early by the shadowball court. Be there before sunrise. You know the usual time.

Shadowmaster Julanza

…

The sad thing is…I do remember our scheduled time and I do remember the shadowball courts. Ah man…tomorrow was going to suck. And he took my trampy clothes! That bastard!

…

…

[Vatu]

"Vatu, have you filled out your request form yet?" I could hear Davilia calling from behind me.

Just as soon as she had asked me, I had just filled in my signature. I held the piece of paper up for her and she snatched it from me, glancing down at it with curiosity. "Armor component request: one suit of leather size 8, Khajiit friendly, 10 pounds of refined malachite plates fitted to armor. Request you just send me material, I will take care of making the suit. Ahh…" Davilia said, nodding to the attached drawing of me wearing a basic construction of a leather-suited armor with bolted on glass plates. "This looks good, Vatu." She pulled out her drawing and pointed to her picture. I could see the very stylishly pointy but rounded curves of her armor. "Mine's going to be black leather with ebony. Ebony infused with moonstone to make it lighter, at least."

I shook my head. "And where are they going to get that ebony?"

She shrugged. "I know a guy in Morrowind. He's got the ebony, and he's going to ship it to the smithy for me. The black leather… I'm sure the garrison can get some."

I looked over at Primrose and Nisha. They were both still working on their drawings. Primrose would draw something and then scratch it away, angry that she wasn't so good at drawing. Nisha didn't look like she had a care in the world. She wasn't even worried about armor. She was going to wear standard iron armor, even though I told her about how it pulls on our fur. She didn't care. So instead of drawing her armor plates, she was drawing her new mage outfit. She wanted new robes that would fit with the armor. Well, that takes care of the fur pulling. It's going to get hot though.

Primrose finally let out an exasperated groan and pushed herself away from the form. She rubbed her eyes exhaustedly and said, "I cannot think of anything!"

I smiled at her, somewhat becoming easier now that I've had a couple days of mental rest. The graduation ceremony did lots for my mental state. "Why not go for traditional armor then? Light silver Mithril with blue fabric and glowing blue runes? I hear retro is coming back in spades."

Primrose seemed to smile to that and said, "You think it would look nice?"

I found myself nodding. "Yeah, I can see you wearing it."

I guess I had fallen for a trap. Primrose pushed off the ground, slamming into me. She hugged me closely and said, "Aw, thank you, Vatu. That was bothering me to no end. And to know that you'll like it makes it even more special to me."

Ah crap. I need to think before I speak. I thought to myself as I looked up at Davilia. She just gave me an amused shake of her head as she turned around and walked away.

"I'll leave you two love-doves alone." She said as she started to walk away. She spun on the ball of her foot and nodded to Primrose. "Oh, Rose. When you're done filling it out, deliver it to Erandur. He'll send your request in with everyone else's. Don't forget, it's due tonight or you'll be placed in normal armor."

I was surprised at just how Davilia took to her new role as a squad leader. When I had first met her, she was a quiet, introverted Dunmer who never took her nose out of a book. Of course that quickly changed when we were kidnapped and forced to live through atrocities that made her, me, and Erandur very close friends. Then as we started doing our real training, Davilia started becoming this more confident individual who now speaks with a strong voice and a strong will. There are times when I see her revert back a little. But that's usually when she's reading.

Primrose was just like that too. Shy person who didn't want much to do with me but now she found reasons to hug me. She saved my life. I think she started liking me the moment I saved hers. Well, there were two reasons for that. She was also obsessed with my twin sister: Vara, who… she has a crush on. She's been pestering me with our journey to go find her. I promised we would go when we were on free leave. Primrose also has feelings for me, but she's not sure if they're organic, or if she just likes me because I remind her of my sister.

You see… Primrose and I have had a few moments. One day, we were hunting on a mountain. And while we were hunting, we came across some… invisible thing. And we fought the invisible thing on the edge of a mountain. We ended up falling off the mountain, getting horribly mangled, and we had to depend on each other to kill the thing. I think that was the moment she started liking me. I mean… we had to survive and keep each other alive. And we did. And now… she's all touchy-feely with me, and… I don't… hate it. I wish I could return the feeling, hug her back, call her my purr-mate, but my heart was still warding away that emotion. Some time ago, I could. But dying changed that. It locked me away in a cage of fear and isolation. A cage that I have yet to break. And… I have a dark presence in the back of my mind… always pressuring me to do things… like snap Primrose's neck. I don't really talk about him. At least… not at the moment.

I allowed myself to hug Primrose back and for a second I felt a small purr escape my throat. Primrose didn't miss it for a second and pulled me closer to her. "Hear that, Vatu? You're healing. Soon enough, I might have you back."

I guess there was a chance. If only.

…

[Nakuma]

Sitting on a bench for an hour might seem like a good idea when you're waiting for a test, but when that test can cripple you emotionally, you tend to get nervous waiting for someone to call your name. Oleeme's trial was almost over and I couldn't wait to see his cheery smile break through the door. Because, if he walked out like the trial was nothing, then I would have nothing to fear. All my suspicions about people changing once inside the chamber would be gone. I could just go in and do it and be done.

So, I sat there, twiddling my thumbs, chewing on my nails, playing with my feathers… accidentally plucking on out by accident. And it was one of my favorite ones as well. This was the lightest pink feather I had grown so far. With my darker pink scales, it felt nice to have a bright pink feather. Now the rest of them matched my scales. Oh well, it will grow back in about a week. I just hope it's still light pink. Until then, I think I'll turn it into a piercing, hang it off the side of my earhole. Some girls do that when their feathers fall off.

Finally, I heard the door open and Gualnzena walked out. Oleeme followed silently behind her. I found myself standing up to congratulate him on completing his exam, but there was something different. I could see it on Gualnzena's face. Or… what I couldn't see on Oleeme's face.

So, I looked from Gualnzena to Oleeme. His eyes glowed with a white power. He stood in a strong stoic stance, his arms limp, and his hands relaxed. A light white aura seemed to buzz off of him. His face had no smile to it. Nothing. He… he stared at me the way a Husk would. When he directed his gaze to me, there was no emotion behind it. "Hello, Nakuma. I passed my final trial."

I was hoping to see him burst out into his usual self, tell me it was all a joke, and that I should see the look on my face, but he stayed quiet and stoic. Gualnzena could see the tragedy forming on my face. She nodded and directed her stare to him. "It happens sometimes. We get a student with family issues, some domestic violence, sexual abuse…something. It's too much for them to take to relive their past so they…lock up. Forever trapping away their emotions for emotional security. He's become a husk."

"But…" I started. "He…"

"He was always smiling? Making jokes?" Gualnzena asked. "Yeah, the more messed up someone is…the more they hide it by making themselves and others happy. And then when it's too much to bear…it breaks them. Turns them into what we call 'husks'. That's what he is now…a husk." She rubbed her eyes in frustration. "If I had known about his past…I would have sent him to counseling before the trial. Made sure he knew what he was getting himself into."

"Wha…" I tried to form the words in my mouth. "Bu-but his training? Is he…?"

She nodded. "Yes, we signed him in as a shadowwraith. He has the potential, he passed his trial. But he…we don't know if he'll ever recover."

I found myself pushing into Oleeme for a hug. Oleeme didn't even budge to return it. I felt so cold right now. He felt so cold.

I shook my head. "Oh, Oleeme. I'm sorry." I may not have liked him… but… he didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.

"It is not your fault, Nakuma. I merely was not prepared for the trial before entering. You are different, you will pass the part that I could not." He replied, completely devoid of any emotion.

That sent shivers down my spine. What if I couldn't pass? What if I ended up like Oleeme? What if I became a husk? We knew about them… and how they function… or… don't function. They're soulless. They live to study… barely sleep, don't socialize… don't feel emotions. They just… don't do things but study. What if that's what I become? What would my family say? Would I still be able to join the Shadow Squad? And if I did… would I care enough about my self-preservation that I would… actually care about surviving to the end of the war?

I felt scared… for reasons I never even expected. I never thought I could become a husk. And yet… here one was… a boy who tormented me every single day, staring lifelessly at me. I felt like I just walked into a horror movie.

Gualnzena nodded to me. "Ghoul Nakuma. If you will follow me, we will begin your test."

She grabbed me by my sleeve and started pulling me away from Oleeme.

"What happens?" I asked him.

He glared at me. "You will survive." He reassured me with a nod of his head. "In the way I did not."

Cearbhail:

What do you think of Nakuma? Is she a brainy know-it-all? Or a victim? Or just a hard-working girl trying her best to survive? Or... is she the reincarnation of Mannimarco, and will she usher in the destruction of her family name by influencing her brother Biluuz into studying a forbidden text that will ultimately end with him cutting open her chest and stabbing her in the heart, all while spouting about his reasons for doing this... all because she's better than him? Oh... I should leave now.