The Shadow He Became

9. Division

Aric Vale

I watched from my bound body as my shadow chased Thorne through the darkness. Watched with horror and helplessness as my other self moved with inhuman speed, closing the distance in seconds. 

Thorne made it maybe thirty yards before the shadow caught him. One moment he was running, the next my shadow materialized in front of him, cutting off escape. 

"Please…" Thorne gasped, stumbling back. "I was just following orders, she forced us…" 

"I know," the shadow said. My voice, my face, but with a certainty I'd never possessed. "That's why you've lived this long. You were a victim too. Coerced. Frightened." 

"Then let me go…" 

"I can't." The shadow moved closer. "You're a witness. The last living witness to what she did. And she's hunting for you just as surely as I am." 

"I'll hide better, I'll disappear…" 

"You can't hide from her forever. She has resources, magic, and power. She'll find you eventually. And when she does, she'll kill you quietly. Make it look like an accident." The shadow tilted its head, my head, studying Thorne. "At least with me, your death means something. Becomes evidence of her guilt." 

From my bound position, I tried to scream. Tried to warn Garrett and Lyons to shoot, to intervene. But my voice wouldn't work. The shadow had control of my body's voice, my throat, my breath. 

I was a passenger in my own flesh, helpless. 

On the rise, I knew Garrett was sighting down an arrow. Knew Lyons was deciding whether to take the shot. But they were fifty yards away in darkness, trying to hit a moving target without hitting Thorne. 

An impossible shot. 

"There's another way," Thorne said desperately. "Let me live. Let me testify. I'll tell the king everything…" 

"He won't believe you. I don't want to believe you." The shadow moved with predatory grace, circling. "But your death, marked with my symbol, matching all the others, that tells a story. That's evidence even the king can't ignore." 

"That I was killed by a monster," Thorne said bitterly. "How does that expose her?" 

"Because patterns reveal truth," the shadow said. "Seventeen murders, all people connected to one night. All people who witnessed one crime. The king is grieving and blind, but his advisors aren't. His investigators aren't. They'll see the pattern. They'll ask why. And the questions will lead them to her." 

"That's insane," Thorne said. "That's…" 

He didn't finish. The shadow struck, fast and precise. Four cuts to the throat, exactly like the others. Thorne fell, blood streaming. 

And I felt it. Felt the killing blow as if I'd struck it myself. Felt the satisfaction of justice delivered, of another conspirator eliminated. 

I felt my own horror at the act. 

The dual emotions were overwhelming, pride and shame, righteousness and guilt, certainty and doubt. Both equally real, both equally mine. 

The shadow knelt beside Thorne's dying form. "I'm sorry," it said quietly. "You didn't deserve the choice she gave you. Didn't deserve any of this. But your death serves a purpose. Helps expose the truth." 

Thorne tried to speak, blood bubbling on his lips. Managed one word: "Monster." 

"Yes," the shadow agreed. Pressed palm to Thorne's chest, burned the mark into flesh. "But a necessary monster. The kind the kingdom needs, even if it doesn't know it." 

Then Thorne was dead, and the shadow stood, looking directly at where Garrett and Lyons hid. 

"Eighteen," it called out. Not to them specifically, but to the night itself. "Eighteen murders. Everyone who helped her kill Prince Dorian. Everyone who stayed silent. The soldiers are accounted for. Only the princess remains." 

An arrow whistled through the air, aimed at the shadow's chest. 

The shadow moved. Impossibly fast, impossibly fluid. The arrow passed through empty space where it had been standing. 

"Don't," the shadow said. Still my voice. Still my face. "You can't kill me with arrows. Can't kill what's already divided from life." 

Another arrow. Another miss. 

"I'm not your enemy," the shadow continued. "I'm hunting the woman who murdered your prince. Who framed your Commander? Who's poisoned your kingdom with lies for seven years." 

"You killed Thomas!" Lyons shouted from the darkness. "You killed one of ours!" 

The shadow paused. For the first time, something like regret crossed its face, my face. 

"That was, a mistake," it admitted. "I felt threatened. Acted on instinct rather than logic. The boy shouldn't have died." 

"But he did," Garrett's voice, cold and hard. "And Thorne just did. How many more 'mistakes' before you're satisfied?" 

"One more," the shadow said simply. "Princess Elara. When she's dead, when justice is complete, I'm done. The hunt ends." 

"And what happens to Aric?" Garrett demanded. "What happens to the man you split from?" 

The shadow looked down at where I sat,my body, still bound, still helpless. Our eyes met, and for a moment, I saw through both perspectives simultaneously. I saw myself from outside and inside at once. 

"We merge," the shadow said. "Become whole again. Both halves reunited, all memories restored. He'll remember everything, the good and the bad. The glory and the guilt. He'll be complete." 

"Or you'll consume him," Lyons said. "Erase the good half and leave only the monster." 

"I'm not a monster," the shadow said. "I'm justice. There's a difference." 

"Not to the dead there isn't." 

The shadow considered this. Then nodded. "Fair point. To them, I'm just the thing that killed them. Their reasons don't matter, their guilt doesn't matter. They're dead regardless." 

"Then stop," Garrett said. "Stop killing. Let us take you, both of you, back to the capital. Let proper justice happen. Let the king decide…" 

"The king is compromised," the shadow interrupted. "He loves her. Sees her as a daughter. He won't want to believe the truth about her, so he won't. He'll find excuses, explanations, reasons to doubt. And she'll walk free while good men stay dead." 

"You don't know that…" 

"I know the king. Served him for years. Know how he thinks, how he grieves, how he clings to the people he loves." The shadow's voice held absolute certainty. "He won't choose the truth over her. Won't choose justice over his heart. So I have to choose for him." 

"That's not your decision to make," Garrett said. 

"Someone has to make it. Someone has to act." The shadow looked up at the stars, too many, in wrong patterns. "Seven years ago, Prince Dorian discovered the princess was an imposter. Found documents proving she'd replaced the real princess as a child, killed her and taken her place. He was going to expose her. So she poisoned him, blamed it on an ambush, and cursed the only witness who could contradict her story." 

"You," Garrett said quietly. 

"Me. Us." The shadow gestured at my bound body. "She split his soul, split our soul, into two halves. One to forget and accept blame. One to remember but be dismissed as monstrous. Elegant curse. Leave the witness alive but completely unreliable." 

"Then how do we know you're telling the truth?" Lyons demanded. "How do we know this isn't just the mad ravings of a curse-born shadow?" 

"You don't," the shadow admitted. "That's the genius of her curse. Even when I tell the truth, I can't be believed. Even when I offer evidence, it's dismissed as fabrication. The perfect silence." 

"Then what's the point?" Garrett asked. "If no one will believe you, why kill all these people? Why hunt her at all?" 

"Because patterns reveal truth," the shadow repeated. "Because eighteen murders, all connected to one night, will make people ask questions. Will make investigators look deeper. Will crack the lies open, even if I'm not there to testify." 

It paused, looking directly at where Garrett hid. 

"And because you believe me. Even if you don't want to. Even if you're fighting against it. Part of you knows I'm telling the truth. Knows the princess killed Prince Dorian. Knows Aric, knows we were framed." 

Silence from the rise. Neither confirming nor denying. 

The shadow smiled, my smile, but twisted with sad certainty. 

"Keep following the princess's trail," it said. "Keep moving toward where she's hiding. I'll be there too, when the time comes. And you'll see. You'll see her for what she really is." 

Then, before anyone could respond, the shadow moved. Blurred into darkness, moving faster than eyes could track. 

And suddenly I could move again. Could speak. The shadow had returned to me, slid back into place beneath my feet like it had never left. 

But I remembered. I remembered being in two places at once. I remembered the conversation from both sides. 

I remembered killing Marcus Thorne with my own hands. 

Garrett and Lyons came down from the rise, weapons ready. Found me sitting exactly where I'd been, bound and helpless. 

Found Thorne's body twenty yards away, marked and dead. 

"I couldn't stop it," I said before they could speak. "I tried. Fought to stay whole. But the shadow took control. Made me watch it, while I…" 

"We know," Garrett said. His face was pale. "We saw the whole thing. Saw you split. Saw the shadow separate and move independently." 

"Did you hear what it said?" I asked. "About the princess?" 

"We heard," Lyons said. His voice was tight, controlled. "Whether we believe it is another question." 

"It's true," I said. "All of it. I don't have proof, can't offer evidence. But it's true. The princess killed Dorian. Cursed me. Has been eliminating witnesses ever since." 

"Using you as her weapon," Garrett said. 

"Using the shadow as her weapon," I corrected. "There's a difference. The shadow has its own will, its own purpose. It's not controlled by her anymore. That's why she ran. Why did she lead us into the Wastes? She's trying to eliminate the shadow before it exposes her." 

"Or the shadow is lying," Lyons said. "Manipulating us. Leading us into a trap where it can kill the princess and frame you completely." 

Both could be true. Both could be lies. There was no way to know for certain. 

"Either way," Garrett said, "we continue forward. Follow the princess's trail. Confront her when we find her. Force the truth out, one way or another." 

"And Aric?" Lyons gestured at me. "What do we do with him? He just killed our last witness. Our last chance at proof." 

"I didn't.." I started, then stopped. Because I had. The shadow had used my hands, my strength, my skills. The fact that I wasn't in control didn't change the act. 

"We keep him bound," Garrett decided. "Keep him watched. And we pray the shadow doesn't decide we're threats too." 

"It won't," I said. "It only kills conspirators. People involved in Dorian's death. You're not targets." 

"Thomas wasn't involved either," Lyons reminded me. "But he died anyway." 

I had no response to that. 

We buried Thorne beside the stream where Dorian had once laughed and splashed water. It seemed fitting somehow. Both victims of the same crime, seven years apart. 

As we worked, I felt the shadow settle back into place beneath me. Quiet now. Satisfied with another name crossed off its list. 

Only one remained. 

Princess Elara. 

And tomorrow, we'd reach where her trail led. 

Tomorrow, the shadow and I would face the woman who split us apart. 

And one way or another, the truth would emerge. 

Even if it destroyed us all in the process.