Apart

Arc 1

Identity Confusion

To which we’ve been fooled of who we are, lay the terrifying monster ready to tear us apart. But, if we look closely we’ll see that what’s confusing us is the clone we made out of despair, the shadow that concealed what must have been the truth we’re seeking for.

So, take heed! Our perception will be twisted in Z’s palm.

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“Can’t you see the beauty of Pasithea?” said George Williams, his eyes bulging. “Seriously, are you blind or something?”

The beach was crowded on the first morning of May that the wind felt a lot warmer than it should. George and Z were sitting on the shore, their feet soaked in the salty water, a pair of coconut juice beside them. George managed to get a job as a consultant to the council at the age of twenty-five, so Z was forced to go along with him in this so-called celebration. She wouldn’t have minded at all if only he would shut his trap about the ‘beauty’ of their dwellings. Apparently, he took it as a personal insult that Z wasn’t looking at it the way he did.

“Look, we don’t have the same eyes, okay? You can’t just force me to see beauty where I see trash.” She casually sipped her juice, ignoring his scowls.

“You’re kidding, right? Pasithea is your home. It’s where you’ve been born,” he said, his quick temper rising. “You being like that just proves how ungrateful of a scum you are!”

The two friends were physically different. George was short and a little bit porky. His round face and wide-set eyes gave him the look of a premature child, but his black mustache, ironically, impressed him a rogue and ruthless vibe. He’s wearing black boxers, showing off his fair skin and bumpy stomach. On his left forearm was a green birthmark that resembled a distorted cup.

Z, meanwhile, was a large woman, well over six feet tall, with a slightly hooked nose, her ash-gray hair curly. Her skin was pale, but, unlike him, it bore the mark of callous and roughness. She fashioned herself with an over-size shirt, which George was happy to point out as her lack of taste. Although he tried persuading her to wear the two-piece he bought, she rejected it straight away.

“For the record, George, we have no idea where I came from, so it’s rather hasty to conclude such a thing.”

Her pea-green eyes bored at the sun, its rays illuminating the raging waves of the sea. She could almost taste the salty wind, could hardly ignore the silent calls of its depth, urging her to come forward. The various noise caused by different tourists was the only thing keeping her on the bay. Their laughter, their yells, their smiles, made her want to run away.

“Oh come on, Z! Not that argument again. How many times should I tell you? You are not a human, okay? You’re a Shadow Wielder. You’ve been born here. That’s irrevocable!”

Some of the tourists nearby stopped on their track, their eyes wide as though they’ve heard such a disgusting thing.

“What?” he spat, his ears burning red. “I’m just telling the truth. Every one of us here is a Shadow Wielder. That’s what you call someone who can manipulate a shadow. Seriously, don’t you know all that?”

Feeling the heat rushing up to her cheeks, Z said under her breathe, “Lower down your voice! You’re embarrassing me.”

Distracting herself from her pounding head, she raised her cup and smiled widely at the tourists.

“Don’t mind us.”

When the on-lookers diverted their gaze, she started banging George’s shoulder. “You idiot! You might as well tell them I have no shadow! I won’t care, really!”

“Ouch—okay—I’m sorry—ouch—hey, stop that—damn!”

Breathing heavily, she glared at him and, forcing herself not to beat him to a pulp, stared instead at the silvery mountain surrounding the ocean. Her heart was melting as it twirled at each second, its color transitioning from gray to silver. Not even the sunlight managed to influence its feature, but the deep blue sky hugging it did give an impression of two people kissing each other.

“Three other Empires are residing on the opposite side of this beach, didn’t you know? From that horizon up to its other half—” His finger trailed from the farthest left corner of the mountain till it reached its center. “—the Forbidden City is rooted. However wide it is, it’s of no use as the council took it upon themselves to prohibit any entrance from that place. It’s been over a century since someone left and enter there.”

Z yawned, rolling her eyes.

“Next to it is the Masaque Empire where, coincidentally, has been temporarily locked down. Unlike the Forbidden City, though, Masakonians inhabiting it are still allowed to come and go as they please.” Sipping his juice, he drowned on, “And that one on the farthest right is for the Berthorpians. They call their empire Berthorpes and—”

“Aren’t you done yet? You’re ruining the silence.”

“It’s not silent, you know. Can’t you hear the rustle of the tourists moving around us, or are you now deaf as well?”

“I don’t mean it that way. I’m just trying to—you know what? Never mind.” Z shook her head, her eyes now set at the Wielders having fun in the waves.

Her heart clenched at the sight of their smiling faces. She’d been trying to ignore them, but the longer she stayed in their approximate distance, the smaller her shattered pieces become. She wished to curve her lips the way they easily could, but every time she’s reminded of her condition, she felt it imprudent to feel ecstatic.

“Are you okay?”

Looking at him for a moment, she fumbled on her feet. “Let’s go. I’m already tired.”

“But we just got here.”

Beyond the shore was a line of ancient-looking cabins. They were all occupied except for the one at the farthest corner. She opened it and saw her crumpled shirt and ripped jeans beside a silky gray cloak on the table. She closed her eyes to calm the pulsating nerves in her head; however, it intensified as George came in.

“There really is a problem.” George’s brows furrowed. “What’s happening, Z?”

“I’m not fine, okay? I need to get out of here. I shouldn’t have come with you. I must have lost my mind.”

“I won’t know what’s up until you tell me.”

“Just—just don’t mind me.” Z started wearing her clothes, unmindful of the glares steaming off from George.

“Is this about you not knowing who you are again? Damn, Z! I told you, I will help you find your family. It’s you who won’t let me.”

“I know who I am, George.” She looked at him sternly. “I just don’t know why I’m here.”

Lips quivering, he slammed his fist on the table. “Every time I think of you, I always forget how much of a hard-headed you are. I want to help you, but you’re not even helping yourself.” With clenched fists, he walked out, leaving Z dumbfounded.

Without knowing what she’s doing, she slumped on the wooden bench and leaned her head against the wall. His words still rang in her head. He’d never truly understand what it’s like to be lost, to have no reason to smile, to only feel misery despite unraveling things day by day because he was never Z.

Truth be told, she had no idea of her past life. All she knew was the initial of her first name.

It sucked.

One year ago, she just woke up in an unfamiliar room. She’d been told then of what she was, but no one could tell her, her identity. According to George, she’s a Shadow Wielder, a meta-human who could manipulate and influence a shadow, and yet, they found no shadow from her. Although he knew the implication of being shadowless, he still affirmed that she’s, without a doubt, a Wielder.

From then on, he made it his task to illuminate Z of the world they lived in and, always the same, they had a row with how they percieve it.

Pasithea, as George put it, was a beautiful place of Shadow Wielders wherein a barrier was made to conceal them from humans and humans to them. It’s composed of four Empires, and Z’s been stuck in Zorphe. She, on the other hand, believed not a word he said. For her, none of that information mattered because she would never fit into any Empire.

She’s just an unwanted tourist, after all.

Wiping the tears now trailing past her cheeks, she wore her sneakers and raced to the exit, meeting Wielders wearing gray cloaks of different shades along the way. Although she wanted to ignore them, their eyes filled with disgust as they scan her did not pass unnoticed. For them, she was some kind of garbage, a scum who dared stain their land. It had always been like that. Ever since she’d been seen not wearing the prescribed cloaks, she’s been treated differently.

She’d be lying to say their treatment didn’t matter but what could she do? Those silks looked so fancy and uncomfortable to her skinny body.

When at last she reached the exit, she tilted her head to see the arching gate from which the ocean was overlooked. It seemed crowded even from where she was, but the sight of them made her lonely. It’s like there’s a thick barrier separating her from the rest of the world, from the Wielders who did nothing but show her how much different she was.

‘I should’ve known not to come here. The more I surround myself with them, the more I fall apart. I’m tired of all of this.’

Shaking her head, she let out a breath, trying to compose herself before looking straight ahead. The street outside the beach was punctured with brown sands. There were houses lining in rows and flags waving in poles as tall as her. A loud neigh caught her attention. She turned to look at an elegant carriage dragged by a Shorne. It’s a four-legged creature similar to a horse but instead of a skin, it has dark mists surrounding its body, dancing like flames in its visible bones. Its wide-set skeletal eyes, reflecting Z distortedly, made her take a step back.

“Are you riding or not?” said the driver, looking at her from head to toe, his brows furrowing at the dirt on her shirt.

Taking a deep breath, she went inside the carriage, glimpsing for the last time the shining, almost intangible tail of the creature. A lavender aroma was filling the inside of the carriage, teasing Z’s nose. It calmed her down, somehow.

“Where shall I take you?”

“Zorpheans’ Villa.” She closed her eyes, massaging her temple as they moved steadily.

Zorpheans’ Villa was a hundred miles away from the ocean. It’s where Zorpheans—the Wielders from Zorphe—resides and only the territory where they’re allowed to use their shadow—in some ways.

A hundred years ago, the Supreme Council—Emperor of Pasithea—decreed that any shadow wielding in the Empire was restricted only to life-threatening and life-survival situations. It was to prevent any more insurgents to rise from the very empire that had sparked the might of the Masakonians.

Z hadn’t noticed she fell asleep until she was awoken by the driver. She yawned while stretching, looking outside to make sure they’re really in the right place. After about a minute, she jumped out of the carriage, smiling a little at the sight of a wooden arc rounded by colorful mists, twirling and twisting at it.

She was about to go when the driver called her.

“You didn’t pay yet.”

“Pay?” Blinking, she said, “What do you mean by that?”

“Seriously, Miss. You are to pay for the ride.”

“What?” It’s as if ice-cold water splashed through her body, freezing every nerve of hers. “But—but I don’t—surely, there must have been a—a mistake.”

The driver narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you know the drill? There is no such thing as free. You have to pay, Miss, whether you like it or not. Now, if you can’t give me any payment, I will call the protectors.”

“Wait, wait! You don’t have to do that. I will—” She swallowed the lump in her throat, thinking fast. How could she have ever forgotten? The fare was one of the reasons why she’d never ridden a carriage, and even that fact didn’t cross her mind earlier. “—pay you, somehow.”

“You have no money, do you?” His eyes were moving from Z’s shirt up to her face. “You’re just stalling me!” He breathed deeply, and then without preamble, he let out a horrible scream.

“No, no, wait!” Z didn’t know what to do. She walked, retreated, covering her ears with her hands. “Please, stop!”

The moment the noise ceased, heavy footsteps echoed. It was like listening to the drumming of metals as it drew nearer; it became sharper as seconds passed. She started sweating and her hands—still covering her ears—were now shaking malevolently.

There, from the arching entrance, came three protectors wearing a suit of armors. From the metals concealing their hands stick an elongated wood, sharp little thorns were slithering from it. It only took them a flick of their fingers to chain Z on the post opposite her. She wanted to scream, but a metallic tape already covered her mouth even before she could try.

“State the crime,” said the protector in the middle, his deep voice echoing.

“She couldn’t pay for my service.”

He swiftly removed his stick and pointed it at Z’s neck. “Is it true?”

The metallic tape melted and Z breathed deeply. “I didn’t—I didn’t know I—I have to pay,” she muttered, trying not to catch any of their eyes.

After she answered, the tape formed on her lips once more.

“That is a clear violation of the Second Part of the Imperial Principle that protects the Wielder’s Affiliates, Miss. You are breaching the code between the consumer and producer law. Do you understand the height of what you’ve done, Miss—what’s your name?”

Just like before, the tape disappeared. “Z.” And was back again after she spoke.

“Full name.”

“I don’t have that.”

“Well, Miss Z, are you registered in the Supreme Council?”

“I—I don’t know.”

The protectors looked at each other. “That’s unexpected, Miss, but we’ll see how much of the Principles you’ve violated. Come with us, too, Mister. We’ll be needing your statement.”

Just then, another carriage approached. It was gathering speed as though someone was chasing it. The Shorne neighed loudly before coming to an abrupt halt.

From the carriage came George who was catching his breath. “Z, why didn’t you wait for—bloody hell! What’s that for?” His eyes were bulging as he stared at Z’s screwed face down to the chain on her waist.

It was the driver who explained, “She has no money to pay—”

“Just for that, you’re going to call them?” He clenched his fist, his eyes moving from the protectors to the driver. “She’s with me. I’ll be the one to pay for the fare.”

“That’s okay for me.” He then faced the Protectors. “Well, I don’t need your interference now. He said he’ll be paying.”

One of the protectors tilted his head. “I’m sorry, but we still need to examine her. She might not be registered from the Supreme Council, and that is something we must never overlook. She might be a threat.”

“Blimey, you don’t have to go overboard! She’s registered, I tell you. I can testify for that.”

“We’ll let you do that, but we need to follow the protocol.” He snapped and Z started floating toward them. “Let’s go.”

“Damn! There really is no need for that. Aah, this is annoying!”

“Wait! How about the fare?”

Still glaring at him, George whistled. There was a pop and came his sable-black shadow. The driver then activated the scanner of the carriage and extracted some energy from him.

There were levels in terms of shadows and with each upgrade, it acquires a color. There’s a shade of pebble-black, midnight-black, sable-black, and obsidian-black, respectively. Each level-up means additional thousand to their bank account. The system was pretty tricky. They’re converting a shadow’s energy into currency and using it to acquire basic needs, which was why the levels of shadows increase and decrease day by day.

“Happy?” said George after he unsummoned his shadow.

“Thanks!” The driver saluted before riding his Shorne to follow the protectors.

George stared at Z who was struggling to escape from the protectors’ bindings but to no avail. Shaking his head, he then whispered, “This is what you get for being hard-headed. What will happen to you without me? Blimey, Z! You should really start appreciating my efforts.”

With one last glimpse at the galloping Shorne, he followed them.