The village of Clearwater was dying.
Not quickly, like a fire or plague. Slowly, like a wound that festered. One death at a time, each more inexplicable than the last.
Amelia arrived on a grey autumn morning, drawn by rumors she'd overheard at a roadside inn. Travelers spoke in hushed tones of a "shadow sickness" that had claimed twelve lives in as many weeks. The local temple priests were baffled. The village healers were powerless. And the people were terrified.
She was fourteen now, lean and wary as a stray cat. The past months of searching for answers about her dreams, about the garden and the spirits who might be her parents, had taught her to be cautious. But they'd also taught her something else: she couldn't ignore suffering when she had the power to help.
Even if that power scared her.
The village square was nearly empty. A few women hurried past with their heads down, clutching protective charms. An old man swept his doorstep with jerky, nervous movements, glancing at shadows. The temple at the village center—dedicated to the Goddess of Dawn, Amelia noted with an uncomfortable twist in her chest—was shuttered and dark.
They're afraid, Amelia thought. But of what?
As if in answer, she felt it. A presence, cold and hungry, pressing against the edges of her awareness. Not the usual spirits who drifted through the mortal realm—confused souls, gentle ghosts, echoes of the dead. This was something else.
Something malevolent.
Amelia closed her eyes, letting her sight expand the way Brother Kang had taught her. The world shifted, colors bleeding away until she saw the spirit realm overlaying reality like a second skin.
There.
In the temple's shadow, a shape writhed. Dark and twisted, it fed on something Amelia couldn't quite see—threads of light that stretched from the village houses, from the people themselves, being slowly consumed.
It's draining their life force, she realized with horror. That's why they're dying. It's feeding on them.
The spirit noticed her interest. Its form rippled, condensing, and suddenly it had eyes—burning red coals that fixed on Amelia with predatory interest.
Seer, it hissed, the word scraping against her mind like rusted metal. Little seer. You can see me. How delicious.
Amelia stumbled back, breaking the connection. Her heart hammered. That thing was aware. Intelligent. And hungry.
She'd encountered dark spirits before, but never anything like this. This wasn't a confused soul or a minor malevolent entity. This was something ancient and powerful, something that had no business being in the mortal realm.
"You see it too."
Amelia spun. A girl about her age stood behind her—thin, with dark circles under her eyes and pale skin that spoke of illness. But her eyes were sharp, knowing.
"The shadow," the girl continued. "In the temple. It's been there for weeks, growing stronger."
"You can see spirits?" Amelia asked carefully.
"Not usually. But that thing..." The girl shuddered. "Sometimes I catch glimpses. Like it's so dark it casts a shadow even in our world." She studied Amelia. "But you see more than glimpses, don't you? You see them clearly."
Amelia considered lying. But something about this girl's directness, her lack of fear at Amelia's strangeness, made her nod. "Yes."
"Good. Maybe you can kill it."
"I don't know how to kill spirits."
"Then maybe we're all going to die." The girl's voice was matter-of-fact, but her hands shook. "I'm Rina, by the way. In case you were wondering who you're talking to."
"Amelia."
"Well, Amelia, that thing killed my mother two weeks ago. Drained her in her sleep. The healers said it was her heart, but I saw the shadow in our house that night. I saw it feeding." Rina's jaw clenched. "So if you have any ideas about how to stop it, I'm listening."
Amelia looked back at the temple. The malevolent spirit had retreated deeper into shadow, but she could still feel it watching. Waiting.
I could leave, she thought. This isn't my problem. I'm searching for answers about my parents, not playing hero.
But even as the thought formed, she knew she wouldn't. Couldn't. Not when people were dying, and she was the only one who could see the cause.
"I might have an idea," Amelia said slowly. "But I'll need your help."
The plan was simple, yet terrifying: draw the spirit out and try to use her power—the strange silver-violet light that had manifested a few times in moments of desperation—to destroy it.
Or at least drive it away.
"Are you sure about this?" Rina asked as they approached the temple at dusk. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of red that reminded Amelia uncomfortably of blood.
"No," Amelia admitted. "But do you have a better idea?"
"Run away and let the next village deal with it?"
Amelia almost smiled. "Tempting."
The temple doors were barred from the outside—the village elders had sealed it after the priest died screaming in the night three days ago. Amelia and Rina pried the boards off as quietly as they could, though part of Amelia suspected the spirit knew they were coming.
Inside, the temple was cold. Unnaturally cold, their breath misting in air that should have been autumn-mild. The statue of the Goddess of Dawn—serene face, hands outstretched in blessing—loomed at the far end, but shadows pooled around its base like oil.
"It's here," Amelia whispered unnecessarily. She could see it clearly now, the malevolent spirit coiled around the goddess statue like a serpent, its form shifting and writhing.
Little seer returns, it hissed. Brings a friend. How thoughtful. Two meals instead of one.
"We're not your meal," Amelia said, trying to sound braver than she felt. She stepped forward, positioning herself between Rina and the spirit. "You need to leave this place. Return to wherever you came from."
The spirit laughed—a sound like breaking bones. Make me, child.
It struck without warning. One moment it was coiled around the statue, the next it was lunging, its form stretching across the temple like a living shadow. Rina screamed. Amelia threw up her hands instinctively.
Light exploded from her palms.
Not pure light like the celestials wielded, not pure shadow like the demons commanded. Something in between—silver-violet radiance that burned and soothed simultaneously. The spirit shrieked as the light struck it, its form recoiling.
Impossible, it hissed. You're not—you can't—what ARE you?
Amelia didn't answer. She couldn't. All her focus was on maintaining the light, on pushing it outward, on forcing the spirit back. It hurt—gods, it hurt—like something inside her was tearing open, but she didn't stop.
The spirit writhed, trying to escape, but Amelia's light followed. It illuminated the dark corners where the entity had hidden, burned away the tendrils it had extended throughout the village. She saw them now—threads of stolen life force being released, snapping back to their sources.
This isn't over, the spirit spat as it dissolved. They're coming for you, half-breed. The masters know you exist now. They KNOW.
Then it was gone, dispersed like smoke in wind.
Amelia collapsed, the light fading. Her hands were blistered where the power had channeled through them. Her head spun. But the unnatural cold was lifting, the oppressive presence was gone.
"Amelia!" Rina caught her before she hit the floor. "Are you okay? What was that? That light—"
"I don't know," Amelia gasped. It was true. She didn't understand her own power, didn't know why she could wield both light and shadow. "I just... I just wanted it gone."
"Well, it's gone." Rina helped her sit against the wall. "You saved the village. You saved all of us."
But Amelia barely heard her. The spirit's last words echoed in her mind.
They're coming for you, half-breed. The masters know you exist now.
Half-breed. The spirit had recognized what she was—or at least recognized that she was different. And it had said "masters." Which meant it had been sent. This hadn't been a random haunting.
Someone—or something—had sent that spirit to Clearwater. And now they knew about her.
Amelia looked at her blistered hands, at the fading silver-violet glow still clinging to her fingertips, and felt fear crystallize in her chest.
The dreams had told her she was special, that her parents had died protecting her. But she'd still hoped, somehow, that she could search for answers quietly. Stay hidden. Stay safe.
That hope was gone now.
Whatever she was, whatever power she carried, it couldn't be hidden anymore.
And something out there was hunting her.