Dream by the Shadows (Shadow Weaver Duology Book 1)

When I opened my eyes, I expected to be greeted by swaying treetops and the smell of breakfast roasting over a fire. Instead, I woke in a sprawling room layered with ancient tapestries, dusty bookshelves, and the barest hint of candlelight. It smelled of night, rain, and old things. Of dust and things left in the dark for far too long.

The Realm had found me once again.

I steeled myself for whatever was about to come my way—be it more demons or the Shadow Bringer himself, I’d be ready.

And that’s when I saw him.

The Bringer was sleeping in a canopied bed, cloaked in shadow and obsidian armor. Silvery fabric curtained the frame around him, floating loosely in the cold, dusty air. He appeared frozen in sleep, silver-white hair adorned by an onyx crown and pooling on the pillows below him.

I was in his room.

I was in the Shadow Bringer’s room .

Creeping backwards, I felt for a weapon while keeping my gaze locked on the Bringer. I was unsettled by his silence and lack of movement. Was he dead? I considered testing this theory, perhaps feeling for a pulse or a sign of breath, but quickly decided against it. Something told me that he was very much alive—just burnt out from using whatever power it was that stemmed from him.

I found a steel fire poker leaning next to a cold fireplace, weighty and sharp despite the dust it left behind, then carefully slid within arm’s reach of the Shadow Bringer’s massive bed. Strange, that such a degree of extravagance could be found consorting with an equal amount of rot. The mix of luxury and decay was uncomfortable.

Intolerable, even.

I drew the fire poker up, holding it over the Bringer’s exposed throat.

Demon. Monster. Killer.

Hate surged through my veins, nearly choking me. This man, the horrid origin of Corruption, damned my sister, cursed my parents, ruined Elliot’s future, and wrecked all chances I had at living a life of any normalcy. A life away from Corruption and the darkness that plagued me from the day I was born. If I killed the Shadow Bringer now, perhaps Corruption would end, the demons would be destroyed, and all captured souls would finally rise to meet the Maker’s holy light.

The poker ghosted the skin below his jawline. One swift thrust, and it would all be over.

Grrrrssschk. Rrrssschk. Rrrssschk.

I froze, listening intently. The wind, perhaps.

Grrrrssschk. Rrrssschk. Rrrssschk.

Quickly realizing that the low, guttural noises beyond the Shadow Bringer’s bedroom weren’t from the wail of wind or the growl of branches scraping against stone, I jolted upright.

Demons.

It was the sound of demons .

“Let us out ,” they howled, snarling and groaning and crying from the depths of their ruined souls. “Let…us…out .”

Something heavy slammed against his bedroom door, causing me to flinch and lose my balance from where I was precariously teetering over the Shadow Bringer’s sleeping form. The fire poker slipped from my hands, sliding off the bed and crashing to the floor.

His eyes opened, depthless and aching.

“You ,” he rasped, lips close to my ear. He put his gauntleted hands over mine, cold and sharp, and my traitorous heart stuttered. “You don’t need to panic—I can manage them. I always have.”

He rose to his elbows as I felt myself slipping.

His hands were iron.

Then clay.

Then dust.

The demons repeated their chant as they threw themselves against the Shadow Bringer’s door. The screams began to layer together, rising and echoing in a hellish chorus.

“Let…us…out .”

“Let…us…out .”

“Letussoutt. ”

“Letussouttletussouttletussoutt! ”

The last scream yanked me back into the dream. I was still in the Shadow Bringer’s bed; he was still holding me by the hands. He let out a slow breath, fixing me with eyes that began to shift from aching and depthless to something sharper and aware. I shifted, a horrific blush creeping up my neck, only to feel his armored hips shift under my legs. We looked down at the same time, realizing just how close our bodies were.

Too close.

We scrambled backwards as shadows roiled around us, tangling in their eagerness to obey each of our panicked wills. This was a mistake—a shadow looped around the Bringer’s wrist, and my will must have called it forward, for it curled around my wrist, too, and pulled itself taut.

He cursed.

I cursed.

And the demons roared louder, bending the door to his bedchamber.

“They aren’t usually this persistent.” The Bringer shoved himself off the bed, cursing again when the movement yanked me sideways into his shoulder.

“Letussouttletussouttletussoutt! ”

“I thought the mighty Shadow Bringer would have more control over his demons,” I said angrily, putting a step between us. We were near the door now—too near, for my liking—and the Bringer was assessing its current condition. It seemed sturdy enough, but the demons were relentless, slamming their bodies into the wood. Two horns suddenly broke through, piercing the door. When the demon tried to retreat, the horns stuck, rattling the frame. “Or do they hate you so much that you can’t control them?”

He glanced back at me, mouth slanting into a scowl. “I’ve never been their master—merely their keeper. So yes, they hate me. Perhaps you’re familiar with the feeling.”

“I’m not a monster, so no.”

The fire poker was too far away to be grabbed, but maybe I could manipulate the shadows to my advantage. I concentrated, willing them to rise and wrap around the Shadow Bringer’s throat like a pair of hands, but they merely wavered in place, useless and without form. It was wishful thinking, then. Of course they wouldn’t harm him.

“So then your Light Bringer accepted you without hate or fear? You woke to find him and his followers singing your praises and not condemning you to a monster’s fate?” At my silence, he turned his attention back to the door, running a hand over one of the smooth, alabaster horns that pierced it. The demon flinched at the touch, splintering more of the wood. He added quietly, “If you hadn’t interfered, you would have avoided all of this. I don’t know why the shadows listen to you.”

“Probably because they’d rather be with me than with a brooding villain like yourself.” The shadows that trailed behind him now trailed behind me, lapping against my ankles.

“Would they, now?” the Bringer countered, arching a brow. “Interesting.”

“What, you don’t think they would?” I implored, another flush making me scowl in irritation. Maybe it was just my imagination, but the shadow-tether between us seemed tighter. He was too close, too tall, too attentive . He had never looked at me like this before, and I didn’t know what to make of it. “Then you’re forgetting what happened in the water chamber. Maybe I’ll try that again on the demons outside your door.”

“You will not try that again.”

“Of course you don’t want me to hurt your precious demons. You’re their keeper, after all—”

“You are very, very vexing,” the Bringer bit out, touching his throat. I remembered the swell of blood that had pooled there, leaking from his nose and mouth. “The demons in the hall are much older and far more powerful than the fledglings in the water. What you accomplished in the previous dream won’t work on them.”

The horned demon began to twist, throwing itself into the door with a renewed fervor. If we didn’t do something soon, the door would burst.

“You really should try to wake up,” he added. “This isn’t going to be pleasant.”

“It can’t be any less pleasant than what I’d wake up to. I’m being marched to your tomb, Shadow Bringer.”

His pale brow furrowed. “What do you mean by—”

I cut him off, willing the shadows at my feet to rise up. I didn’t know what I was doing, not really; I’d intended for them to form a wall, sealing us off from the demons, but they rushed forward, too quick—and cracked the door wide open. The shadows disintegrated at the contact, sinking back to the floor.

Demons—dozens of hideous demons—stood in the hall, gaping at us.

“Like I said,” the Shadow Bringer growled, yanking the tether so that I stood behind him, “you are very, very vexing.”

The shadows rose at a twitch of his fingers, churning in front of us like a condensed thundercloud. A blink later and the cloud surged forward, pouring over the demons like a midnight tempest. The creatures tensed as the shadows surged over their broken bodies; they weren’t being attacked, exactly—but it seemed like they were being purged of something terrible. Shadows crawled from their eyes and mouths, joining the dark around them, and their mouths remained frozen in silent screams.

When the cloud finally settled, the demons were sated. Their rage and panic had cooled; the fight had left their hollow eyes. Eventually they slunk back down the hall, seeking solace somewhere else.

The Bringer’s shoulders sagged. His shadows were mere wisps now, settling under furniture and sliding beneath rugs. Even the tether that had bound us had disintegrated, sliding inside a nearby vase.

“Wretched creatures,” the Bringer muttered, crossing the room in a few quick strides. He made it to his bed and quickly turned around—as if forgetting I was there, too—instead choosing a book-covered desk to lean against.

His room was opulent but uncared for. A tomb left untouched for centuries.

I examined a vase overflowing with dead flowers, flinching when they disintegrated. “How can you live like this?” I felt myself asking. “You’re the lord of nothing but dust and monsters.”

“It wasn’t always this way.” He added, almost to himself, “But now I’m cursed to rot in a castle that no longer feels like mine, unable to leave and unable to purge it of its shadows. Most would say it is a fate most fitting.”

A dark laugh rose in the back of my throat. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t have forced Corruption upon Noctis. You cursed an entire kingdom to live in fear and die in ruin. Your fate is fitting for such a crime.”

His hands squeezed the edge of the desk, cracking some of the wood into dusty splinters. “My fate was torn from me the moment I was banished here. Time was stolen from me—my life was stolen from me, and—”

“My entire family was stolen from me. You stole them from me.” I took a step toward him, teeth bared.

“I did no harm to you or your family.” Shadows flashed in his eyes, but he did not move. “Believe what you wish, but that is the truth. I’ve witnessed a great deal of loss, too.”

I nearly laughed. A monster justifying his monstrosities by what he’d lost was pathetic.

“You lament your past and present, but what about Noctis’s future? What about my future?” My hands trembled. There was nothing left for me. I should have my entire life to look forward to—decades filled with purpose and joy. Perhaps even love. A family of my own, a house of my own, a life of my own. The Shadow Bringer was rotting in his castle, but I was rotting, too. And I didn’t have a choice.

I was inches from the Shadow Bringer now, glaring up into half-dead eyes spinning with whorls of silver and night. I hated him. He was the enemy of Noctis, the harbinger of Corruption, Eden’s killer, and my future’s cruel thief. The tales made him out to be wicked, soulless, and cruel.

So why did he look so achingly sad?

I had wanted to shove him. Wanted to grab him by his stiff shoulders and scream with the same agony and intensity as his demons.

Instead I said fiercely, “You have a responsibility to make things right. If you’re truly as miserable as you look, and insistent that you’re not at fault, then change your fate and your future. If you can manage that, then maybe you’ll be able to change mine, too.”

He looked surprised, eyes searching my face. “It’s possible that Noctis can be salvaged, but I’ve no sense of where to start.” His voice lowered, heavy with regret and longing. “I don’t remember everything, but I do remember having a sense of purpose. My power once called to the dark, and dark things were drawn to it—drawn to me . I once thought I could contain all the demons here while I waited for an absolution that never came.”

This was new. The Shadow Bringer harboring demons to protect humanity while imprisoned was unheard of.

“But the demons aren’t fully contained. Many roam Noctis freely.”

“No,” he agreed. “And perhaps they never were, if what you’re telling me is the truth. The demons in my castle aren’t Corrupting anyone; they’re as trapped as I am. Which leaves those roaming the Dream Realm to their own volitions.”

Grrrrssschk. Rrrssschk. Rrrssschk.

We turned at the same time; a demon leered at us through the broken doorway, its shoulders so wide that it had to adjust itself to fit. It lunged for me, moving quicker than what should be possible, its grin wide and hair-covered arms outstretched. The Shadow Bringer threw himself in front of me, shadows up in defense, but he was either too distracted or too slow—

The force behind the blow was staggering, slamming the Bringer into the fireplace with a sickening crunch. The Bringer snapped to his feet, but the demon was faster. It grabbed the discarded fire poker, raising it to the Bringer’s exposed throat.

“Let…me…out ,” it rasped. “Five hundred…years. ”

For a moment the Bringer’s eyes widened, but he quickly shook his head, clearing whatever thought had passed through it. He brought his hands to his throat, shielding it from the spike. “The curse has no end, demon. Put the spike down before I impale you with it.”

“Five hundred…years ,” it repeated. “He…is…coming .”

“You’re delusional and broken, just like the others,” the Bringer said sadly. “Pitiful.”

And then he grabbed the fire poker, spun it around, and shoved it between the demon’s eyes. It lurched back, poker protruding from its forehead, and lunged for me again. I spun to avoid it, diving for a half-open curtain at the far end of the Bringer’s room.

A balcony.

Curse it all.

Lit by a dusting of stars and a pale yellow moon, the balcony looked straight out of the pages of a storybook—perfect for romance or reminiscing, but not for outrunning demons. The ledge was too far away from the forest that sprawled beneath it.

To fall would be to die.

“Let me out, ” the demon snarled. It tried to pull the fire poker from its skull, but it only managed to snap it. It wielded the broken piece like a dagger, poised and ready to strike me down. “You can free me. ”

My back slammed into the balcony. The creature had cornered me—backed me into a place it knew I couldn’t escape from. “If I free you, then you’ll just devour innocent souls. Not happening.” And then I willed the Bringer’s shadows to race down my arms, covering them in thick, writhing darkness.

When the demon took another step toward me, poker raised to strike, I sent the shadows flying. They became swords, lances, pitchforks—and assailed the demon, sending it reeling into the Shadow Bringer, who had followed us to the balcony. They crashed into the other side of the balcony, assaulted by shadows both knife-sharp and corporeal. The demon took the worst of it, moaning from its injuries, but the Bringer was halfway off the ledge, cape pinned by spikes and blades. The part of his body off the ledge—his right arm, shoulder, and head—began to smoke, burned by an invisible force.

I had never heard the Shadow Bringer scream, but now he did, writhing in torment. His metal gauntlet sunk into his arm, melding with the skin underneath, and his moon-white hair began to smolder, just as his smooth skin blistered and peeled. He tried to push the shadows away, but they wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t bend to his will. Whatever force was burning him was also keeping him from using his abilities.

He had told the truth, after all.

The Shadow Bringer truly was imprisoned by his own castle. He wasn’t some devilish ruler feasting on souls, commandeering armies of demons, and living a life of glory and power. He was a miserable, broken monster, but perhaps he was the only monster who could do something about it.

And I was killing him.

I didn’t know what death meant in the Realm, but something told me the Shadow Bringer might not wake from this. And if he died—and the demons didn’t die—what then? I’d have to face the demons alone. They’d riot, overwhelm me, and escape, plaguing Noctis with a rush of Corruption. I pried the shadows away, frantic and horrified, sending them spiraling into the night.

The Shadow Bringer broke free at the last moment, and the force of it sent the demon plummeting off the ledge. It howled as it fell, but its echoing wails were soon silenced.

Dropping his hands, the Bringer crumpled. He sat perfectly still, eyes closed, leaning his half-melted body against the balustrade. His skin had already begun to heal, resetting back to its original state, but it wasn’t quite restored.

“I’m tired, Esmer. I’m tired of living like this.”

I froze where I stood, uncertain. “I—”

“There are no captured souls here beyond my own. There are only demons, pulled here by my wretched power, and darkness. Nothing but rot and my ruined soul on display.” His eyes fluttered open briefly before closing again. “The Weavers trapped me here, claiming I was the evil plaguing Noctis, but it wasn’t me. It has never been me.”

“How can you expect me to believe you?” I hissed, tears springing to the corners of my eyes. I hated how I felt. It was a mixture of grief, doubt, and shame. “What you’re saying goes against everything I’ve been taught. It’s a path that I’ve walked my entire life.”

“Then let me convince you otherwise,” he rasped. “Help me find my freedom and purpose and I will return the favor a hundredfold.”

I raised my face to feel the wind. It swirled around us, fragrant with the scent of the sprawling wilderness below, and threaded through our hair, caressing it with smooth fingers. “The tales say nothing about how to defeat the demons or free you. They scarcely mention your fate at all.”

The Bringer let out a heavy sigh and opened his eyes. The shadows were back, but they felt empty and dull compared to how they were rioting earlier. “You said Mithras was marching you to my tomb. If they seal you there with me, you’ll never leave. You’ll share my fate, bound to this castle and unable to watch your loved ones grow up. You’ll live here as Noctis sinks further into ruin, blind to the waking world and numb to the passage of time. Don’t let them take you.”

“It’s already too late,” I said, shaking my head. “But at the tomb I can wake you, and—”

“You can’t wake me,” he interrupted. “If you do, there is a chance this dream will collapse and the demons will run free. They remain imprisoned because of my will.”

“But isn’t that what you want?” I blurted, desperate to understand why this monster no longer seemed so monstrous. “They’d spread your Corruption like wildfire. They’d overtake Noctis, and—”

“Do I look like that’s what I want? To rule the Dream Realm like some twisted king?” He stood, gripping the balustrade for support. His onyx crown, which had partially broken apart in his hair, dropped to his feet, rattling against the stone. It, unlike the rest of him, had not begun to patch itself together.

“Then why did you do it?” I found myself asking, joining him by the ledge. “Why did you form Corruption, if that isn’t what you wanted?”

“I—” the Bringer began, his brow furrowed. “I don’t fully remember.” He turned to face me, expression haunted. “But what I will say is this: there are many things in this world that I hate, but I don’t hate the innocent. If Corruption is truly as bad as you say, then it would be irredeemable for me to cause such a tragedy.”

Strangely, I believed him.

I believed the Shadow Bringer.

He reached for me, and I found myself reaching back. But just as my fingertips met his, I was ripped away, his hands and castle spiraling into nothingness.