A Spark In The Shadow

CHAPTER - TWO

The sharp, sudden scream from the village had faded. Duskiel stood at the edge of the forest, his heart beating fast and oddly. The Shadescore pulsed with a low, strong hum, no longer soft but pushing him. He had felt a strange, cold pull in his chest, a feeling he couldn't name. But as fast as it came, the feeling softened, fading like smoke. The village lights still twinkled, calm and warm.

Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks.

Maybe it was an animal.

He pushed the feeling away, wanting his heart to slow down.

He was in the human world now.

He was safe.

Days turned into weeks, then into months. Duskiel made his home in a hidden spot, covered by old trees, where sunlight peeked through the leaves in warm, changing shapes. He still watched, but his watching changed. It wasn't just about staying alive or understanding; it was about being curious.

He found a robin's nest, made perfectly, holding three tiny, speckled eggs. He would sit for long minutes, quiet as a stone, watching the mother bird fly back and forth, bringing food. When the eggs hatched, and the small, hungry mouths opened wide, a soft, warm feeling spread through his chest. He would leave small pieces of bread he found by the road, hoping the mother bird would find them.

His hands, once only used for hiding or holding the Shadescore, now explored the world. He picked up smooth river stones, feeling their cool weight. He traced the delicate patterns of spiderwebs, shining with morning dew. He found bright feathers, dropped by unseen birds, and kept them, a small, secret collection.

He started trying to do what he saw humans do. He watched a farmer plant seeds in neat lines.

                                       ---

The next day, he found a patch of soft dirt and carefully buried a few seeds he had picked from a wild flower. He didn't know what they were, or if they would grow, but doing it felt good, full of hope. He often returned to check them, a small frown on his face when nothing appeared, then a tiny spark of joy when he saw a single, green shoot push through the soil.

His silence began to break. He was still quiet, yes, but no longer truly closed off.

In the afternoon, while watching a group of children play near the edge of the village, a small, chubby puppy, all wobbly legs and wagging tail, tumbled over its own feet. It landed with a soft thump, then looked up, confused. Duskiel, hidden behind a bush, let out a soft, surprised chuckle. It wasn't loud, but it was real, a breath of pure, unplanned fun. The sound felt strange, yet good, in his throat.

He noticed how the villagers talked to each other, how they smiled, how they helped. He saw an old woman drop a pile of firewood. Before she could bend down, a young man was there, quickly picking up the logs. He didn't ask for thanks, just nodded with a kind smile. Duskiel watched, puzzled at first.

Why help if there was no reward? But then he saw the old woman's thankful smile, the warmth in her eyes. And something clicked inside him.

He decided to try.

                                        ---

He saw a younger child struggling to carry a heavy bucket of water from the village pump. Duskiel walked over, slowly, carefully. The child, a small girl with bright, round eyes, looked up, startled. Duskiel didn't speak. He just reached out and took the handle of the bucket, lifting it easily. He walked beside her, carrying the bucket all the way to her house. She looked at him, her eyes wide, then gave him a small, shy smile.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Duskiel felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest, different from the sun's warmth, different from the food he ate. It was a pleasant feeling, light and soft. He managed a small nod in return, his lips curving into a real, if still slightly unsure, smile.

His smile became more common. It started as a small, quiet curve, then stretched wider, showing a flash of white teeth.

He found joy in simple things: the crisp bite of a freshly picked apple, the feeling of clean stream water splashing on his face, the sight of clouds drifting lazily across the endless blue sky. He would spend hours trying to skip stones across the river, focusing closely, then letting out a quiet,

"Mmm!" of satisfaction when one stone bounced many times.

His laughter grew louder, more often. It began as quiet giggles, then became small chuckles that escaped him when he saw something truly funny. He saw a cat chase its own tail, spinning in dizzy circles until it fell. Duskiel found himself letting out a surprised burst of laughter, a clear, uncontrolled sound that echoed through the woods. He clapped a hand over his mouth, startled by the noise, but then a smile touched his eyes.

It felt good.

Free.

He was making noises without thinking, noises that showed true happiness.

The Shadescore remained in his pocket, a steady, calm presence. He rarely thought about it, or the strange feeling it had given him months ago. His memories remained empty. The past was a closed book, and he was too busy reading the bright, new pages of the present. He was learning to be human, to live in the light, to feel without the heavy weight of hidden horrors.

His skin, once pale, now held a faint, healthy color from the sun. His eyes, once so guarded, held a growing sparkle of curiosity and warmth.

                                      ---

In warm evening, as Duskiel walked back towards his hidden spot, a strange smell reached him on the wind. It was faint, almost too light to notice, but it cut through the sweet smell of night flowers and damp earth. It was a cold, metallic smell, like blood mixed with something sharp and like old iron. It was a smell he shouldn't know, a smell that tickled the edges of his forgotten mind.

He stopped, his senses sharpening, an old, forgotten feeling stirring deep within him. The Shadescore in his pocket, which had been silent for so long, suddenly gave a clear, powerful thrum, a warning shake that pulsed against his leg. It wasn't the gentle hum it usually was.

It was strong. Demanding.

He looked towards the source of the smell, towards a less-used part of the woods, where the trees grew thicker, darker. He felt a sudden, cold fear, a feeling that had nothing to do with being scared of normal things.

This was different. This was unnatural.

He took a step towards the smell, pulled by a force he didn't understand. The Shadescore throbbed harder, almost painfully. He pushed through the thick plants, his steps suddenly silent, light, like they had been in another life.

He found it. A deer, big and graceful, lay still on the forest floor. Its eyes were wide, empty. There was no struggle, no blood spilled on the leaves. But on its neck, two small, neat holes, like tiny, sharp pokes. And the body was... empty.

Drained.

Duskiel stared, his breath caught in his throat. The smell was stronger here, the cold, metallic smell. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew. This was not the work of a wolf, or a bear. This was not a normal death. His eyes, in the growing darkness of the forest, flashed with a brief, hungry red. A silent, terrifying echo from a past he could not remember.

He felt a deep, ancient cold spread through his chest, a sickening awareness that cut through his newfound peace. The Shadescore in his pocket throbbed wildly, its low hum now a desperate roar in his mind, echoing the chilling truth that he felt but could not understand. The shadows he had forgotten, the ones that belonged to his old life, were not just a faint memory.

They were here.