Shadow & Light

Chapter 2

A bell rang above my head as I pulled open the thick oak door of the quaint little library in the center of the kingdom, alerting the few people in the building to my entrance. Heads popped up upon my entry to see who disturbed their reading. The face of Judy Tillett grinned at me from behind her counter as I walked in. For being in her fifties, Mrs. Tillett still looked like a thirty-year-old due to incredible fae genes. Fae didn't have to worry about the first sign of wrinkles until well into their sixties, sometimes later. A smile lit up my face as I hurried towards Mrs. Tillett, embracing her in a long warm hug that had my heart melting. I had never known my parents, I appeared at the edge of our kingdom which was surrounded by sky-high walls when I was only a few months old, so I had never experienced the warm kindness of a mother. No comforting hugs, no forehead kisses, and no kind words to greet me as I ran home after another day of relentless bullying. But this soft-spoken, ever-so-lovely woman had been the closest thing to what I imagine a mother to be like.

I met Mrs. Tillett when I was hiding in the library one night as a ten-year-old girl. It was storming outside and my little cottage on the edge of the town was terrifying on stormy nights. Shadows would play and dance on every wall, like monsters out of some children's cautionary tale about the boogeyman and what happens when children don't behave. With no father to check my room for monsters or protect me and no mother to sing me sweet lullabies on the nights when the nightmares got too real for me to sleep, Mrs. Tillett and her kind husband who owned this tiny slice of heaven were a true blessing. That night was no exception. I was so scared to go home that I curled up on a little bean bag chair in a hidden corner of the dimly lit library, reading my favourite book at the time, a fairy book that was one in a series called ‘Saffron the Yellow Fairy.’ These books were an escape for my ten-year-old mind that was plagued with fear, a growing sense that she didn't belong, and the confusion of a power she had no hand in controlling. Just that afternoon I had decimated a little butterfly while I was playing at the park, watching its little wings shrivel into dust, and I had sobbed right there on the playground as the wood chips dug into my little legs. I couldn't understand why I was like that. Why did death follow me like a plague? Why did all the parents shush their children and hurried them away whenever I entered the playground? The sweet Mrs. Tillet had never done that to me, just smiled and welcomed me every time I needed an escape. So there, in that little corner, long after everyone else had gone home, I enjoyed the comfort of a little fairy whose name just happened to resemble my favourite colour.

Mrs. Tillett had found me, curled up and shivering from the air conditioning right above me– lost in a little magical world seemingly so far from my own, reading about a little fairy who had seven sisters who cared about her. She approached me like one would approach a deer abandoned by its mother, with extreme caution and soft words, wrapping me in a soft blanket. There, we sat for what felt like forever, talking about the book I was reading, the book I read last night, and everything under the sun. We had talked about our favourite food, favourite animals (mine was a deer ever since I had seen a family of deer outside my window the month prior), our hobbies, and anything we could think of. By the time the moon was at its peak and I was yawning we had been laughing too loudly for a library setting. That's when Mrs. Tillett asked why I wasn't home.

Most adults in the kingdom knew of my existence as they were cautioned to stay away from me, but not a lot knew about my living situation or the fact that I was all alone on the edge of the town. Our kingdom was a huge territory surrounded by expanses of lush forest that spanned around our borders, littered with rock beds so deep that our town never settled out that far. The actual inhabited part of our land wasn't very large–approximately ten thousand fae residents living there. Since I lived on the edge of that inhabited zone my only friends were the birds and wildlife around me. From the age of five I was alone in my cottage with nothing but pre-made meals and a few toys and stuffed animals. When I was five my power began to emerge and after almost killing a child who stole my toy and made me cry, the orphanage decided they didn't want to risk any incidents with the other children. Was it absurd to expect a five-year-old to raise herself? Yes. But cruelty and absurdity were on brand for the kingdom where I was concerned. I doubt most would care if they did know. The few who did know said they preferred me there. See no evil, hear no evil. I was evil. Regardless of the fact that I was only young, most people didn't like what they couldn't understand, and no one could understand me. I was the girl who appeared out of nowhere, who could kill things with a single touch, and no one wanted to risk that in their own homes. If something happened to me out there in the middle of nowhere then at least their children would be safe on the playground. It was sad but it was the reality I lived.

Mrs. Tillett was different though, with her kind eyes and sweet voice, with a presence that made me want to hide in her arms and seek comfort in her words. She didn't care who I was or what my power was, and she didn't mind my touch. So, when I explained to the lovely lady that I lived alone, and my reasoning for being at the library alone at midnight, she looked like she could burst into tears at any moment. With a rushed permission from me she scooped me into her strong arms, my book clutched to my chest and wrapped in the soft blanket, and headed towards the library doors. Under the umbrella she walked with me back to her cottage which was right near the library, and in through the front door, laughing about a knock-knock joke she had just told me. When her husband appeared in the front hall looking less than pleased to have me there, she set me down and shoved him into another room with a comfy-looking couch, where I could hear her scolding him in hushed tones about my situation. Mr. Tillett, the loving husband that he was, couldn't say no to his sweet wife. That's how I ended up staying the night at her house, tucked into their guest bedroom, where Mrs. Tillett had sung me the most beautiful (and only) lullaby that my little ears had ever heard. When she closed the door to the room that night I fell asleep clutching one of her daughter's many stuffed animals they had leant me, as tears streaked down my cherub cheeks. I mourned the loss of parents I didn't have, and wished on every star I could see out the window that I would wake up and these people would magically be my parents. My wish didn't come true, much to my disappointment, but I got to eat pancakes and orange juice in the morning, then play with dolls with Mrs. Tillet's two daughters Cara and Lilly. They were like their mother in so many ways. They were just as kind and good as Mrs. Tillett, speaking to me in the same warmth, no hint of the cruelty that even ten-year-olds could possess when speaking to an outsider. But I wasn't an outsider to them, I was just another girl who happened to stay the night. No hint of cruelty or snide remarks or insults. Just friendly smiles as we all giggled and talked about the characters we made up.

The reminiscing I had done had a warm smile still on my face when Mrs. Tillett grabbed my hand and led me to the history section of the library. We had spent countless nights reading the history books, learning about and discussing the content of our little kingdom that we found there.

"I found a new book here today Alina! I never could reach those dusty books up at the top, there, and the ladder scared me too much to attempt. John said he would clean it for me but we both know he isn't the best at it. I roped some teen into doing it with the promise of giving him 50 silver and a gift card to the cafe down the street, and he found this little book up there."

"Judy, how many times do I have to tell you that if you need something done around the library or your house I will do it for free. Save your money." I scolded the well-meaning lady. We both loved John, he had become like a father to me ever since that night when I was ten years old, but what Judy said was true, the man had little to no cleaning skills, and I would be damned if I let some little half-ass steal 50 dollars from this woman when I could clean the shelves and these beloved books for free. I would probably do a better job than a teenager anyway and would handle the books with a greater level of respect.

Judy tutted at me while gently patting my shoulder, and I smiled down at her. "Alina you are an excellent fighter, and the children need you to teach them some discipline and skills beyond gossiping so I will not have you holed up here cleaning my library."

Judy was right on all accounts, except for the fact that she knew I would happily spend all day holed up in her little library cleaning every single book. I was a neat freak by nature. When you live alone with no one to blame for trash and clothes on the ground you find yourself becoming obsessed with keeping everything orderly. Not only was it nice not wading through heaps of clothes or sneezing from the long forgotten shelf with a centimetre of dust coating it, but there was a sense of accomplishment that came along with keeping my home orderly, having the shelves dust-free, the clothes where they belong, and everything as it should be. Not to mention, coming home from a long day of training to see clean dishes, clean clothes, and clean floors was always amazing. There were days, however, when I wished for someone to share the load and the blame with. There were times when I went to Judy's house and heard Cara and Lilly arguing about who left what on the ground or who had to clean what, and I knew there was nothing I wouldn't give to be able to experience that, even if both girls told me they would love to live alone. I knew they didn't mean that deep down, but I just smiled and nodded.

I snapped back to reality and looked at the thin book that was placed in my hands, the dust on it making me cough a little, but the thick black cover and gold-rimmed pages drew my attention faster, and my heart skipped a beat. This strange book looked fascinating, but its title brought me so many questions; The Dark Kingdom. The Dark Kingdom? It was hidden in the back of the kingdom's history section, and had seemingly fallen behind the bookshelf in a spot where it had been missed for who knew how long. This fact was evident in the realization that I had never heard this title before in my life. It was history. But what was it historically? Was it a neighbouring dimension, one other than the human realm? I mean I knew there were many other dimensions, the spirit realm where people go when they die and their souls pass on, there was the realm where other creatures like ogres and giants lived, and a few more, but I had never heard of a Dark Kingdom.

I looked up at Judy, my confusion mirrored on her pretty face, and opened my mouth to speak but struggled to find words. "I have no clue what this is darling, I took over this library around twenty years ago and have never seen this book." Mrs. Tillett finally spoke for me, which left me wondering who originally owned this book, and what they knew about it. I finally realized that maybe I was being weird for nothing, after all, maybe it was a fantasy book which was simply put there by an uncaring teenager, where it fell behind the shelf and got lost.

"I will go read this if that’s okay with you." I spoke to Judy in a distracted tone, already flipping the cover open to begin reading. As I read the table of contents, trying to glean any insight before I began. I made my way to my favorite corner of the library, absentmindedly walking and really not watching where I was going, which didn't matter since this late at night there was no one back here. I had heard the bell ring a few times while I was in the back with Judy, other patrons calling their goodbyes to the librarian and heading out for the night. If my observations were right then there were only two others left in the library, both at the front of the building.

As I got myself comfortable on the plush bean bag that Mrs. Tillett had replaced last year, the old bright red one having gone flat and turned into a muddy brown color in the years of wear and tear it received, I flipped the smooth old pages to begin reading.