Page 5 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
To his left, there was nothing but barren desert as far as the eye could see. To his right, a towering cliff face rose proudly toward the sky. At its base, a few measly shrubs and scraggly grasses grew.
At its base…was shade.
Focusing on his new objective, he began to drag his heavy body across the burning dust toward that little strip of shelter. He was naked, he realized. Of course he was. Awareness of his nakedness, the desire to clothe his bare skin… These were other sensations that felt foreign.
Humiliating.
A cold wrath rose within, the urge to annihilate whatever unseen foe had landed him in this predicament.
For now, he quelled it and focused on the immediate objective: survival. He reached forward and dug his claws into the cracked earth, dragging himself inch by inch until he finally reached his destination.
Sheltered from the sun at last, he collapsed in exhaustion.
He cursed his foreign flesh prison and its debilitating weakness. He’d once been powerful. Invincible. Now, he was nothing. Now, he could only lie there and hope he wouldn’t feel it when the vultures started to eat him.
With that final morbid wish, he slipped away into oblivion.
…
Deep in the Southern Territory, the land of the Fire Queen, a human named Cragar led a small procession across the baking desert.
Three riders atop weary horses rode in formation around a four-wheeled cart, pulled by a camel. Their two-day journey to the nearest village had been fruitful, and they were laden with supplies for upcoming travels. The skin on their faces had tanned to shades of deep brown after days exposed to the sun—except for Anzo, who was just red and peeling no matter how much he covered.
Everyone was thirsty, even the camel, but Cragar pushed his men onward regardless. He knew they were close to their camp, and there was no water to be found nearby anyway.
The sun was sinking low on the horizon, that vivid orange ball close to disappearing. Once it did, the temperature would drop to near freezing, and lack of water wouldn’t be the only survival concern. High above, vultures circled the darkening sky, their lonely cries the only sound in the desolate silence.
Ahead, a dark cliff towered above the flat earth. There was only one path to reach the top—a narrow traverse diagonally across the face. It was this path that Cragar would lead his men up on the final push toward their camp. If all went well, he hoped to reach it by nightfall.
As they neared the cliff base, however, his eyes caught upon a dark object in the distance that seemed incongruous with the landscape. He watched as a vulture swooped toward it before angling sharply back to the sky. Another followed.
Pointing it out to his men, they veered off course and headed toward it to investigate. As they approached, his confusion morphed into bewilderment and even trepidation.
The shape was vaguely humanlike. Long legs, arms splayed out. Except its appearance was…wrong. It was like a shadow, but empty of all shade and tone. It was darkness without depth, a void that absorbed light like a sponge. The harder he tried to focus upon it, the more his eyes seemed to blur.
“Is it dead?” one of his men asked as they stopped their horses a safe distance away.
“If it isn’t, it will be soon,” the other replied, “else the vultures wouldn’t be circling.”
Cragar dismounted and cautiously approached the strange figure. As he neared, he saw it was indeed a humanoid male. There was no mistaking it, seeing as it was quite naked.
It—he—lay on his side, one arm under him, the other stretched forward, long legs sprawled on the dirt. Sleek black hair fanned out around his head, hiding his face. His body was built with the strength of a warrior, though it was impossible to discern any details on his skin because of its eerie lightlessness. To gaze upon him was like peering into an abyss.
Cragar approached the figure, lifted a sandaled foot, and prodded him lightly on the shoulder. The shadow man didn’t move. Cragar prodded him again, this time hard enough to nudge him over onto his back.
The creature groaned softly.
He leaped back. “By the Goddess, it’s alive!”
“What sort of man is this? He looks like a demon from the dark Shades.”
“I’ve no idea,” Cragar replied, “but I don’t know that I’d call it amanof any sort.”
Only an Elemental could have such unnatural characteristics, though he’d never heard of any of their kind with such otherworldly skin. But he’d never particularly cared to learn more about the Queens’ magic-infused abominations either.
As far as he was concerned, the world would be a better place if Elementals and their vile Queens were wiped off it. The only thing Elementals were good for was procuring gold when he sold them as chattel at the market.
“A Hybrid, perhaps?” one of the other men ventured, still staring at the monstrous creature sprawled in the sand.
