Lunar Shadows

The Underworld

It lay before her, glowing yet dark, strung out and alive, a beast with neon lights set pulsing like a thousand eyes, its streets all knotted with secrets, shadows. Towards the end where it was confusion, Rafe led her narrow alleyway and into dimly lit side streets, taking steps sure and quiet as if he were part of the night itself. Elena was with him, closely standing, conscious of every bit extra and connected to the pulsation, which in the city was thrown around her in a manner with which she had not had experience before. The world, now safer and brighter, could catch even the flutter of wings above with every footfall, every car passing by. Although it overwhelmed her senses, she was doing her best to keep up with the stream of data crashing through her mind.

“This is where it all starts,” Rafe announced rather quietly but firmly. He stood before the heavy, rusted door set deeply into the brick of the building. Elena could sense the aura of something ancient hanging in the air, although the doorway appeared ordinary, even average.

She frowned as she was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Rafe did not answer immediately. Instead, he knocked twice and then once with a particular rhythm, like code. Elena blinked, but all of a sudden the door creaked open, revealing a small hallway dimly lit from the other side.

She saw an imposing figure, tall, shadows around it, but dark eyes sparkled in a very unsettling sharpness. Elena took an involuntary step backward, her heart racing.

Rafe nodded toward the figure, his expression unreadable. "This is Elijah," he said simply.

Elijah took a long look at her before saying, in a low gravelly voice, "She is the one?"

"She is," Rafe answered, the tone clipped.

The guy approached closer than his name, Elijah, eyeing Elena from a distance. For sure, a shiver ran down her spine. But like a brave girl, she stood tall despite the nerves. There was something about his gaze-an air of danger, the kind that made her skin crawl and her instincts scream to run. But she didn't.

Elijah seemed to sense her discomfort and let out a low, nearly amused laugh. "You have spunk," he remarked, his gaze flicking over the small, ragged scars, visible from her transformation, on her arms. "That's good; you'll need it."

Rafe shoved Elijah out of the way and on through the hallway. Elena hesitated a moment, and then she was following. Narrow hallways under age-old, weather-torn paintings bore strange markings she couldn't decipher. The air was heavy with the spicy smell of incense and even more sinister-really-a smell she could not place, but it made her throat feel constricted.

Before them was another door, this one of dark wood, with intricately wrought carvings. Rafe knocked again-two rapid knocks followed by a third, long rap.

And the door opened immediately.

The inside was very different from what Elena imagined would come up. The air was almost thick with palpable tension, dim lighting. Several shapes gathered round an elongated glimmering table, each one observing her now with intense, appraising eyes. There were all kinds-humans and some kinds not that human-but each of them spoke of a presence, an undeniable presence. The presence that made her feel small and insignificant.

The moment she came in, the words being exchanged in whispers at the table all stopped. Every eye in the room turned toward her, some full of curiosity, others caution, and still some a little darker emotion.

One of the figures, a woman with silver hair and sharp, calculating eyes, spoke first. "So, this is the new one?" Her voice was smooth and had an almost predatory edge to it; Elena immediately mistrusted her.

He nodded as Rafe continued, "Elena. She's the one I've been telling you about." His expression remained unreadable.

Elena felt all those eyes in the room suddenly turn toward her, weighty as though they were suffocating her-they were an awful lot of arms around her, striving to call her back when she, arms crossed, was trying to brace herself. But there was no mistaking that she was indeed in something a lot larger than she ever dreamed of.

The silver-haired woman, whom Elena had just figured was some sort of head honcho, stood up with narrowed eyes. "Tell me, Elena. Do you realize what you have gotten yourself into?" she asked in a low and dangerous tone.

Elena gulped and felt her mouth dry. She knew not what this place was for, nor who these people were, nor what they wanted from her. One thing she knew for sure: there was no turning back now.

"I just want to understand what's happening to me," she said, her voice quavering but steely.

The silver-haired woman appeared to appraise her for a moment before returning to her seat, eyes trained on Elena without shifting. "You're in the underworld now. This place, this city... it's not just home to humans. We, the supernatural, have lived hidden in plain sight for centuries. The bloodline you come from... it makes you important. You have power-potential, even."

Elena felt a cold shiver run through her as the woman's words hit her like a punch to the gut. "Power?" echoed Elena. "I don't feel powerful."

The woman chuckled darkly. "That just shows you haven't scratched the surface. But you will, and when you do, you will be more powerful than you can fathom."

Rafe stepped forward and spoke steadily, "She needs training-and protection. The forces hunting her aren't going to wait around, and we don't know how long it will be before she gains control."

"Training won't be enough. The enemy won't wait for her to learn," Elijah, still by the door, said. "They're going to come for her, and they're going to come fast."

The silver-haired woman lifted her brow. "And what do you suggest we do, Elijah?"

He looked her in the eye, and his voice was soft but dangerous, "Prepare for war."

There was silence in the room, and finally, Elena began seeing the weight of the world as it really was on her shoulders. She had no idea what this war was about or even who the enemy was or what they wanted. All she knew was that it was so entirely bigger than she had thought it could ever be.

She looked at Rafe, who returned her look with something like determination poured over a shadow of regret. She didn't know what he was thinking, but she could tell he understood her feelings. This was not a world to be ignored. And now she was tangled in it.

Rafe spoke again, his voice firm. "Tonight we begin thus. Elena's training begins now."

The silver-haired woman leaned back in her chair, faint smile playing at the edge of her lips. "Very well. Welcome to the world of the underworld, Elena."