Shiver sat in the midst of a nightmare of ice.

  She listened to the wind around her, straining her hearing over the roar of the blizzard. She stared out into the frozen darkness, searching for a hint, a sign.

  She recalled the words that had appeared before her, as the strange voice had resonated with her Fearcore. Reaching her, on their journey to the Dreadwood.

  Guide burden: [Unquantifiable]

  Fearcore integrity: [Critical]

  Recommend immediate descension.

  The message was confusing for a simple reason. As bad as the symptoms of her Fear were… they were no worse than she had experienced in Anhedonia.

  In fact, the symptoms of her Fear had lessened. She had not glimpsed her doppelganger, the ice shade with its charming smile of black fangs, during the entire journey to the Dreadwood. Neither had she been visited by haunting hallucinations.

  The only negative change she had noticed, were the physical differences. How Vale and Caledon recoiled at her touch, which burned with the bite of frost. How vapour coalesced into the sliver of shards of ice at her breath.

  Her thoughts wandered to the words of one Lord Ratlad, on their journey.

  There was a choice to be made.

  Shiver grimaced, pushing away the uncomfortable reminder. Which was when she was mercifully interrupted by a harried knocking on wood that echoed through the room she shared with Vale.

  Sitting up in the darkness, Shiver retuned effortlessly to reality from her dream. It was a convenient departure from Anhedonia, the ability to leave their nightmares at will, no longer helplessly trapped within them.

  Shiver noticed that Vale had returned from her midnight stroll, and was splayed out on her bed, her “elegant” snoring cutting through the peaceful night.

  The harrowing knocking on the door to their room persisted once more.

  “Wu-wha Shiver? What’s happening?”

  Quietus, who was leaned up against Vale’s pillow, stood up, readying his ivory cane in the direction of the doorway, the size of a toothpick.

  It was the thought that counted.

  Shiver put a finger to her lips, stalking towards the door.

  In a flash, she opened it, and pulled in the elf before he could unleash another flurry of knocks on their door in the middle of the night. With a precise flick of her leg, Shiver sent the elf tumbling towards the floor. In a single motion, she shut the door and straddled him, her Phobia’s edge at his neck. Mist peeled off its glowing surface, wrought from the purest of ice, but riddled with cracks.

  “W-wait! Shiver! Please!”

  A familiar face stared back at her. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, Shiver made out the features of Eleric’s mayor, his eyes wide. The sounds of wood creaking under the weight of the mayor’s guards’ blows on their room door reached them as they attempted to break into the room Shiver had locked.

  “Galethrob? Start talking.”

  “Shiver! What are you doing!”

  Vale had woken up from the sounds of the commotion. Her lavender eyes were wide, as she spotted Shiver holding her Phobia to the mayor’s neck.

  “Mercy! Some of the townspeople discovered your undead. They know that there is a Fearshapear of death among your number… you were our most recent visitors. You’ve certainly made an impression on our town, in your first night here. Folk are growing restless.”

  Silence fell between them, and the mayor continued with a grimace. Shiver’s Phobia dissipated into a brilliant shower of ice as she relented, drawing her blade away from his throat. She opened the door and watched as a guard stumble inside, as the sudden resistance posed by it was removed, carried by his momentum, that Shiver thoughtfully halted by throwing an arm out to catch the man’s chest.

  Mayor Galethorn continued to watch her with wide eyes, as she met his gaze all the while. Sweat dripping from his forehead.

  “F-forgive me. I thought we would be able to extend you even the slight courtesy of offering you a few days of rest, before you continued on with your journey to Viridian. I wished to make the… request of you personally.”

  “Sure, Galethrob.”

  Vale cleared her throat, shooting a quick glance at Shiver.

  “Mayor Galethorn… Surely you don’t mean for us to depart… immediately? It’s the middle of the night?”

  The man averted his gaze, struggling to find a place for his eyes to rest upon as Shiver and Vale stared at him. Then, he turned in relief a as solution to his problem presented itself.

  Then the mayor paled, as a tall shadow was cast from the light outside the room.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  A tall elf, built like the town’s best warriors. The beginnings of scruff peaking out from his jaw. He was the same age as the two young women before him, yet his eyes were haggard. The energy and optimism that should have adorned his face was tempered instead, by bitter determination.

  Caledon Brimstone’s hazel eyes took on a golden sheen in the light of the inn.

  “Ah… Highlord Brimstone.”

  As she saw the Mayor flinch, Vale couldn’t help but feel a guilt rise in her chest.

  Then, Caledon’s gaze softened, as he nodded deferentially to the man.

  “Of course, Mayor. We had best make haste, in any case. Thank you for your hospitality.”

  ---

  The scarce few lights of the sleeping town of Eleric grew dim as they made their way down the cliff, descending stone steps cut into its surface, down to the precipice of the Dreadwood, that lay at the foot of the cliff.

  “Woah.”

  Even in the darkness, light shone from the forest’s edge. Shiver marvelled at a field of lights that danced as they swayed in the gentle spring wind. The “Firelight Fields” were an apt name for what they glimpsed. The plants looked like wheat. To all appearances, they were wheat.

  Yet on the ends of the stalks glowed small golden orbs. Swaying in the wind, shadows lightly danced, and a feeling of calm washed over them. Caledon was inclined to agree, with Shiver’s expression of awe.

  “Beautiful, don’t you think.”

  Shiver’s smile widened as she shot Caledon a mischievous glance.

  “Lordling, you never said you fancied plants. No wonder you were so eager to get here.”

  “Says the one who can’t stop mention getting strangled by a vine.”

  Shiver’s eyes trailed after Vale, who walked ahead of them in silence. Her friend must have felt culpable for their fate, getting kicked out from Eleric within a single day of their arrival. Shiver’s attempts to reassure her, or assuage her guilt had been for naught.

  She would not be so easily deterred by simple brooding.

  “Halt! State your business.”

  Shiver’s mascinations were interrupted by a voice that cut through the fields. Rounding along its edge, a group of guardsmen stationed at the forest’s edge strode towards them, their hands on their weapons.

  Caledon raised a placating hand, as he strode forwards.

  “My name is Caledon Brimstone. We’re making our way into the Dreadwood, to the city of Viridian. The Mayor said he would provide us with a guide?”

  At the sound of his surname, the guards snapped to attention, the traces of annoyance fleeing their faces and bearing.

  “Highlord Brimstone! Of course, right this way. Your guide awaits at the forest’s threshold.”

  They walked onwards, cutting a path through the firelight fields.

  Finally, they came to a halt before a scrawny elf. Wavy black hair fell over his forehead, obscuring his eyes. He was pale, even more so than Vale after her descent had sapped some of the colour from her skin. At his feet were bags of supplies prepared for them, which he handed to each of them in silence.

  The guardsman turned to them.

  “Virgil here, will be your guide. May the Dreadwood provide.”

  “Follow.”

  Wordlessly, the trio exchanged glances as they followed the strange elf to their destination at last.

  The Dreadwood beckoned.

  ---

  “Hey, hey. Princess. Psst.”

  Vale frowned at Shiver. She shook off the girl, her eyes scanning the surroundings, her ears peeled for the slightest sound. Her skeleton walked next to her, Quietus perched on its clavicle.

  Their silent guide continued into the forest with confidence. Stopping only occasionally to glance at a broken twig. His eyes seeming to penetrate through the darkness.

  Each of them carried packs with provisions, a small mercy that the mayor had afforded them. More than enough to tide them over while they reached Viridian. Frankly, Caledon had thought the supplies a little excessive, uselessly weighing them down.

  Caledon held his torch up high. It cast a gentle golden glow in the woods, causing the shadows to dance and scatter.

  “Psssssssssssssssssspffff.”

  Vale put an end to Shiver’s antics by placing a palm over her mouth and squeezing her cheeks.

  “What. Do. You. Want.”

  Vale hissed between her teeth, trying not to disrupt the silence that cloaked the forest. Then Shiver licked her palm, and Vale tried not to yelp. She settled for shooting the crazy orphan a death glare that would have made Gravelords proud.

  “Which creature do you think we’ll come across first? Think we’ll find any emberhares? I bet we’ll find them hopping around in the Emberwood.”

  “Crazy orphan, you need to be on alert. Who knows what could jump out at us.”

  The woods shifted around her silently, in the light breeze that filtered through the forest.

  Vale shivered at the thought of the monstrosities the Archcity of life contained. Some creatures were better off dead. Her mind returned to the “dapper” spider that was the Matchmaker, as Caledon had described him. She would surrender herself to Insanity if she came across any of his kin. Small or large.

  Then, she began to feel a prickling on her neck, and she let out a shrill scream.

  “Shiver you Feardamned idiot!”

  The girl had tickled the back of her neck, and being so engrossed in her thoughts about spiders….

  Vale blushed a deep crimson as she shot an apologetic look towards Caledon and their guide.

  She internally cursed Shiver’s idiocy as she saw her smile widen. No doubt she had just opened herself to endless torment as they made their way through the dark forest.

  Vale decided she would not be reduced to Shiver’s stand-in for entertainment. Even if she knew the girl’s attempts at mirth were partially to distance herself from her own dark thoughts. Well, now she bore the consequences of her actions.

  Vale approached the guide they had been assigned.

  There was no harm being friendly… right?

  “Ahem. Hi there, Virgil was it? Do you often guide people into the Dreadwood? I can’t imagine too many elves venture its depths… what with all the creatures about.”

  The elf with wavy black hair that obscured his eyes paused, turning to look back at her. He slowly raised a finger to his lips.

  “Shush.”

  Vale’s eyebrow twitched. She whispered under her breath, as she halted, letting the man stride on ahead. She heard a distinctive snickering behind her.

  “Nice one, princess.”

  “What do I have to give to find someone sane around here.”

  “Don’t forget me, young Fearshaper! Lord Quietus Vingrave always makes for illustrious company!”

  Vale shook her head, but she couldn’t help but release a small chuckle. She knew the end to which Shiver tormented and bugged her. The girl could tell when she was being consumed in her own thoughts, as they lingered on the cause for their premature exit from Eleric.

  “Shiver… For how annoying you are, I really do appreciate you, you know that?”

  When the girl remained silent, Vale rolled her eyes and grinned.

  “Crazy orphan, you’re rendered speechless with a bit of affection? Are you that starved of it-“

  Vale glanced back, looking back at the path they had come from.

  She halted in her tracks, her voice hardening.

  “Caledon.”

  Caledon tensed at Vale’s tone, then his eyes shifted to her Phobia, that she had called into reality. The bone-white ivory scythe towered above her, its blade curving with a deadly gleam in an arc over her dark blonde hair. It caught a stray ray of moonlight that filtered through the treetops.

  He whirled, tracing her gaze into the darkness behind them.

  Trees cloaked in the darkness of night were all that awaited them. The darkness of their shadows dancing in the meagre golden light of his own Phobia that he had called into existence.

  Mocking them, in the place of her crazy friend.

  Shiver was gone.