“You’re a Fearshaper… I can hardly believe it.”

  Pov’s eyes were wide. They widened even further when Shiver drew her Phobia into reality. Blaze was entranced by the blade, her hands slowly extending towards it. Shiver smirked. The little firefly had taste. Thankfully, it seemed like her thieving days had come to an end, for young Blaze remembered her manners.

  “Woahhhh. May I please hold it-“

  “No.”

  Shiver dispelled it in a small shower of ice and crossed her arms.

  “Nothing good can come of it. The only reason I decided to descend into my Fear, as much as I did…”

  Shiver turned on her side, laying on the bed which barely fit them all. She closed her eyes, taking in their company.

  Then Shiver let out a long, drawn out sigh.

  “All that time with Vale must have rubbed off on you hmm? Go on, you’ve got something on your tongue, eh? Spit it out.”

  Shiver stared at Marta in shock. So much for a warm reception – evidently Marta did not have any qualms about loosening her standards of discipline, even under the circumstances.

  “I’m telling Vale you said that.”

  Pov and Marta just grinned, before their faces fell.

  They know what’s coming… of course they do, there’s no one that knows me better than they do.

  “Why couldn’t Berevan have just… told Caledon about you? Found some moment, to pull him aside? You were staying at Brimstone Manor when he was there.”

  She asked the question, even if it was like drawing blades across her skin – inflicted by the look of guilt that flashed on Marta and Pov’s faces. But Shiver was surprised by how quickly it disappeared.

  Evidently, they had been prepared.

  “You know the boy, Shiver. Do you think he could have kept it from Semille? Caledon Brimstone, like his father, is an honest, straightforward man.”

  This time, Pov interjected, reaching up to ruffle her hair, as he did when she was a child, who asked a few too many silly, pointless questions. Shiver supposed Pov would have interacted with Caledon, in his dealings with House Brimstone. Perhaps, Berevan could have told them something to that effect.

  “Even if Berevan got a moment alone with Caledon, he didn’t want to tip Semille off. The last thing that he anticipated… was that you would find yourself in the Archcity of Fear. If he had known what you would have done in your descent…”

  Pov’s shoulders sagged, and Shiver’s eyes widened.

  They knew. How?

  Marta answered her wordless question.

  “The Highlady told us what you did. Descending through Anhedonia, in the Archcity of Fear. She said she could feel the state of your… “Fearcore”. Shiver…”

  Shiver cursed herself. As her gaze passed over theirs, she could see the guilt written on their faces.

  Then Marta slapped her thighs, creating a sound like a thunderclap that shocked her out of her thoughts.

  “Alright, enough of this. You know that these are pointless questions, Shiver. It was an unfortunate string of events. Perhaps it could have been averted. If someone reached you sooner, or if Caledon learned the truth. Perhaps, Caledon would be dead at the feet of Semille and his knights if they had – if that honourable boy let his father’s betrayal slip. A thousand things could have gone differently. Yet here you are, eh?”

  Marta’s gaze drilled into her, and she didn’t have anywhere to run.

  “You made some mistakes, and paid the price for it. So, our house will be a little more chilly with you around. Big deal. What now, Shiver? You’ve made your mistakes.”

  For a moment, Shiver was silent. Then she let out a long sigh.

  “I’ll live with them the best I can, I suppose. I hate it when you do this, making everything into a lesson.”

  Marta finally broke into a smile, along with Pov, who interjected.

  “That’s our little ice devil. We wouldn’t be very good parents if we didn’t.”

  “I still don’t think you are.”

  They grinned at each other, and Pov and Marta encircled her in a hug once more. Shiver backed away, pushing them from her, when she realised that she was inflicting the cold on them. The pain that it brought with it.

  Then, they backed away. Shiver noticed the slight distance they maintained. The way they shivered in her presence, and her expression darkened.

  It was a reminder of her decision to take in so much of her Fear during embracement. Of the harrowing consequences it had her, just as much as it did for the people she loved.

  Shiver’s eyes darkened-

  “Your blankets, honoured guests.”

  Shiver stared, as her spiral into self-pity was rudely interrupted.

  Marta’s voice rose, unexpectedly.

  “Oh boo hoo, I’m Shiver, and I grew up abandoned in a frosty cave. Now people can’t sleep in the same bed as me, because I make them a little cold.”

  Marta and Pov grinned in unison, as Shiver’s mouth hung agape.

  “Oh no, dear. I’m starting to cry because the moisture is getting sucked from my eyeballs! I’m so cold, powerful and alone. Let me go stand in the rain so no one can see my tears-”

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  “Alright, I did that once. There’s really no reason to bring it up again.”

  Shiver watched on in a state between utter horror and incredulity, as Marta and Pov…

  Mocked her.

  They were devils, the both of them.

  After all, she had to get it from somewhere. Even with her raw potential, she had to be shaped, refined into the little terror she had become, somehow.

  The answer presented itself.

  Shiver recoiled, as Marta flung a heap of blankets straight at her.

  “You idiot. Did you really think a little chill would keep us away from you, eh? You think I’d awaken a Fear as pathetic as a bit of ice?”

  Shiver gasped, appalled at the sheer degree of nonchalance with which Marta denigrated her Fear. Marta was one of the few, rare elves that hadn’t yet awoken a Fear – she was Fearless – both in the sense of the word, and more literally.

  Marta’s eyes flashed.

  For all the Marta and Pov were kind, welcoming and patient with her. They wouldn’t have lasted for as long as they had around her if they didn’t have an edge. Even the ice devil herself, who had brought the Academy of Anhedonia to its knees had to admit…

  She had been outplayed. It was masterful.

  Finally, she found her feet, and parried Marta’s blow.

  “If I recall correctly, you let me stay in a frozen cave outside Brimstone when I was barely older than this little idiot-”

  Shiver gestured to Blaze.

  “Hey!”

  Blaze gaped as she caught a stray. An innocent in the crossfire. Shiver powered on, as heedless of her victims, as always.

  “What sort of parents do you call yourself-mmf!”

  Marta had elegantly picked Shiver up, chucking her onto the bed, and heaving blankets all over her. Her laughter boomed, followed by Pov’s chuckles. He grinned, as she emerged, her hair a mess, tangled in the blankets Marta had wielded as her weapon.

  “Aha! Violence? That shows you’re desp-“

  Marta’s voice cut through hers like a Fearshaper of blades.

  “If I recall correctly. A certain someone would always run away like a chickenheart from our home when we tried to convince you to stay. Do you need me to remind you why?”

  “Lies. Slander. I’m a Fearless ice demon. Blaze, don’t listen to them. Let’s not be hasty-”

  Shiver slowly backed away from them. She shot a tentative glance at Blaze, her protégé. The reputation she had built – brick by brick – was at risk of being trivialised, utterly destroyed.

  Marta ruthlessly tore it apart, as Blaze watched on with wide eyes.

  “A Fearless ice demon who fled her baths. You stank, you feral thing.”

  Shiver spluttered incredulously. Shiver never thought she would one day empathise with the dirt and grime that Marta wholeheartedly dominated whenever Shiver had the misfortune of entering her bath.

  “Woman, you tried to drown me. How thoroughly were you trying to clean me back then? I would have awoken a Fear of bubbles if I hadn’t escaped.”

  Marta smirked at her.

  “And little Blaze would have awoken a Fear of grime if she caught a glimpse of you. A stinking coward, eh Pov?”

  “Rancid.”

  Marta finished the fight, and Pov twisted the dagger to spite her.

  Then they lay in comfortable silence, after the giggles and laughter subsided. So quickly drawn right back into the warm life that she had treasured.

  “Fine, fine. You win. For now.”

  “Come here, our portable little meat freezer. You’ll be handy in the Brimstone heat.”

  Shiver just closed her eyes, allowing herself to be a child again, for just a moment. Relishing in the warmth of the family she had thought she had lost.

  Then with a smile, she gently pushed them away.

  “So, when will you be returning to Brimstone?”

  “You mean… we? Right?”

  Pov and Marta exchanged a glance, watching as Shiver shifted. Her expression impassive.

  “Oh sorry. That’s what I meant.”

  Then they smiled.

  “We can stay… for a while. It’s not every day that you get to experience the Dreadwood in all its wonder, you know. Give Blaze a little time to bid her new friend farewell. Attend to her lessons.”

  Lessons?

  The fleeting thought was smothered, as Shiver detected… a threat. To her superiority.

  “Oh, I heard… Viveria Brimstone? Surely, she doesn’t hold a candle against me, hm little firefly?”

  Shiver watched in horror, as the consequences of Marta and Pov’s actions bore fruit. The girl, upturning her nose at her.

  Her mentor.

  Then, Shiver heard coughing emerge from behind their room door.

  The culprit had the dignity of revealing herself before they could out her.

  Viveria Brimstone looked nothing like her older brother. She had shoulder length hair that blazed with dying embers of the sunset. Or at least, that was how Shiver would have described it, if she had that shade of hair. A bold red-orange to the dark brown of Caledon’s own.

  “Ahem. Sorry for the intrusion… was just passing by.”

  “Looks like curiosity runs in the family? Your brother loved to explore his.”

  Viveria’s eyes widened in horror. Shiver’s smile turned demonic. A chance at redemption presented itself. Viveria would have to understand, it wasn’t personal.

  Then Shiver yelped, as an enormous hand found her shoulder and yanked her backwards. Halting her in her tracks. Marta’s voice had lost its casual mirth and cheer, and she spoke with measured respect.

  “Lady Viveria, you’ll have to forgive our demon. How may we help you?”

  Oh. That’s right.

  Shiver’s face fell. Caught up in the petty games she played, in the warmth of her family.

  Warmth now denied to Viveria Brimstone.

  “Where… is my brother? He arrived with you to the Dreadwood, didn’t he?”

  Shiver traced the girl’s features more closely. She noticed her hollow eyes, lips dry, as if the girl was parched. The callouses the peeled from her hands. From what Caledon had told them about her, the girl had endless energy, and jumped at the opportunity to confront her challenges. Now, she was a husk of herself.

  Has she been training? I suppose… I did something similar, when I thought I lost them.

  Losing myself to the descent.

  “He did. We entered together. The Highlady said that she was allowing them to “enjoy the fruits of her garden”… my best guess, is that they’re currently teaming up to descend through their Fears. Once they’ve stopped crying over my absence, of course.”

  Viveria’s shoulder’s slumped, despite Shiver’s meagre attempt at levity.

  “You should be proud of him, you know.”

  Viveria paused as she made to leave. She glanced at her quizzically, surprised at her quiet words.

  “Don’t ever tell the lordling, but I’d be dead without his help. Your father also saved my family. You’re good people. If you ever need a hand, just ask.”

  Viveria nodded stiffly, her eyes falling. Then she bowed out of the room.

  For a moment, all was silent, before Marta ended it with a slight nudge.

  “When did you get so polite, eh?”

  “Oh come now. I can be nice.”

  “Who are you, and what have you done with our Shiver.”

  As she threw a pillow in Pov’s direction, surrounded by warmth after so long, her mind wandered to her friends.

  I wonder if they’re alright.

  ---

  Vale and Caledon watched, as reality tore itself betwixt.

  For a moment, they stared into a sea of stars within the tear. The darkness of the night sky, stared back at them.

  With a yell, Caledon grabbed Vale and pulled her behind a tree.

  They watched as the leaves above them began to shake, then draw towards the a large grey hand that had emerged from the tear in reality.

  Caledon risked a glance around their cover, and watched as the grey hand extended its fingers outwardly. Virgil flew straight into its palm.

  The man had surrendered to his fate, not even bothering to resist or run. As its fingers closed around him, it drew him into the void.

  Helpless.

  “What in Insanity was that? It took our guide! Did it take Shiver too? We need to find her.”

  The lord nodded his silent assent, as he extinguished his flame. They would navigate onwards using the meagre moonlight that slipped through the forest’s canopy. Lest they get snatched up by a gigantic grey hand or whatever other manner of creature that prowled the Dreadwood.

  Caledon watched as Vale’s fingers encircled her Phobia, the tall white scythe that towered above her. Utterly ineffective at inflicting any meaningful damage on the creatures that posed a threat to them. So was his own Phobia, the torch that took on the appearance of a hiltless blade. Ever since that day in Brimstone, when its flames had coalesced into a blade sharp enough to slice Triol’s neck, he had never been able to recreate the feat.

  Caledon let out a shuddering breath, as his eyes darted around the dark forest around them. As his eyes met Vale’s, he knew that they shared a mutual understanding.

  Even though they had awakened as Fearshapers, and had created “pristine” Fearcores, they had only just embarked on their descent into Trepidation. They were as powerless as they ever were.

  Prey, to be hunted, in the Archcity of Life.