A Spark In The Shadow

CHAPTER - TWENTY ONE

Brianna carefully pulled the book out. It was clearly very old. The pages were thin and creamy, filled with elegant, swirling writing. It was a journal. Someone's private thoughts, their hidden story.

"Mama, look!" she said again, her voice filled with sudden excitement, pushing aside her worries for a moment.

"It's a journal! And it's so old!"

"Oh, my. A journal. I truly don't remember this one at all. Your grandfather had many strange things. He never really spoke much about them. What strange things he used to find." her mother came over, looking at the book in Brianna’s hands.

Brianna, hardly listening, sat cross-legged on the dusty attic floor, carefully opening the journal. The first few pages were empty, then the writing began. It was in a language she didn't fully understand, a mix of old words and strange, flowing symbols she'd never seen. The writing itself was beautiful, almost like a piece of music drawn on the page.

She turned a few pages, slowly. Then she stopped. A small, pressed flower, faded but still beautiful, was tucked between two pages. And beneath it, a delicate sketch. It was a drawing of a young woman, her face gentle, her eyes wide and full of light, a quiet strength in her smile. Beside her, a small boy, perhaps only a few years younger than Duskiel, his face serious, his hand reaching for hers. He had the same dark hair, the same quiet look in his eyes.

Brianna felt a sudden, sharp breath. Her heart gave a strange thump. She knew that face. Not the woman's, but the boy's. It was Duskiel. A younger Duskiel, but it was clearly him.

"Oh, my goodness," she whispered, her eyes wide with shock. A wave of dizziness hit her as the full weight of Kael's accusation, You're a vampire, slammed into her again, now linked to this image of a young, innocent Duskiel. How could this gentle boy become... that?

"It's Duskiel. And his mother." her hand instinctively went to the necklace Duskiel had given her, the small, smooth pendant containing his blood, now warm against her skin, a silent sign of their bond.

She looked at the date written on the page, in a strange script but still readable: "The year of the Crimson Moon." and then, a few lines later, a name, written carefully. "For my Duskiel."

Duskiel's mother. This was Ember's journal. Brianna stared at the drawing, then at the graceful writing. This was a secret, a piece of Duskiel's unknown past that she had found by chance. She remembered the pain he felt when she was near, the way the Shadescore reacted. She remembered his strong power, his silent anger during the attack. And now, this.

A connection, a bridge to his hidden world.

She felt a rush of different feelings: surprise, wonder, and a deep, quiet sadness. The woman in the drawing, Duskiel's mother, looked so full of light, so gentle. It was hard to picture her connected to the dark, powerful being Duskiel became when he fought. The thought of him being a vampire still felt wrong, like a sharp stone in her heart, but this journal promised answers.

What had happened to her? What had happened to him?

She carefully closed the journal, holding it tightly to her chest. It felt warm now, a steady beat against her heart. The strange energy she had felt earlier when touching the book was still there, a soft, familiar spark, like the one she had felt when she pushed back the vampire. It was a connection, not just to the book, but to Duskiel, and to the power that seemed to flow between them.

She knew she shouldn't look at it more, but a strong desire forced her. She wanted to know. She wanted to understand the boy who saved her, the boy who carried so much sadness, the boy who was both familiar and completely unknown.

She spent the rest of the evening quiet, helping her mother, but her mind was far away, in the old attic, with the dusty wooden box and the small, leather-bound journal. She thought about Duskiel's silent struggles, the hidden pain she knew he carried. And she thought about the strange power she felt, the shared spark that seemed to awaken whenever he was near, or when she touched this book.

As night fell, and the house grew quiet, Brianna carefully took the journal to her room. She lit a small candle, its flame flickering, chasing away the shadows. She opened the book again, carefully, with respect. She knew she couldn't understand all the words yet, but she could trace the drawings, the symbols. Her finger touched a particular page, large and clear. On it was a detailed sketch of the gem. Dark, jagged, yet pulsing with a faint, evil energy that seemed to jump from the page.

It was the Shadescore. And beneath the drawing, in messy, desperate writing, a single, chilling phrase in the old language. Brianna, staring at the unsettling image, felt a deep, cold fear. The familiar words of the village, suddenly understood, now echoed in her mind: "It feeds. It consumes. A curse."

"A curse? Not a gift? How... how could this be?" Brianna gasped, her eyes wide with growing horror. Her blood ran cold. The idea of Duskiel, the kind boy, being trapped by something so awful filled her with a fierce, protective ache.

The gem Duskiel carried, the source of his power and his pain... it wasn't a gift. It was a terrible, living curse.

And the boy she cared for, the boy who saved her, was its unwilling victim. The truth, far darker than any bad dream, had just begun to show itself.