Amelia Thornheart

Before anyone could respond to her outburst, Finella took another breath, practically shouting, “The Shimmer!? The realm of the ice spirits!? No! How? Surely not! Only the spirits or realm-travellers can traverse the realm boundaries!” She turned and interrogated the uncomfortable Noburu. “Are you a realm-traveller?” she asked. Then she frowned and asked, “Are you an ice spirit?”

“N-No,” Noburu said quickly. “I don’t think so, at least…”

“The…” Mel swallowed. “The spirit realm? The realm of the Kami?” She stepped forward and asked the mistwalker, “Have you seen the Kami in there, Noburu?”

“I don’t think so,” Noburu answered. “But there’s… plants. Ghostly plants.”

“Tell me everything,” Finella ordered.

Noburu spent a minute explaining what he understood of the Shimmer. He spoke of how severely it drained him, and how holding his breath meant he could stay in there longer. He talked about the translucent plants that appeared in places devoid of aether, and how people constantly walked through them.

“Are you telling me,” Ido began, “that when we’re”—he gestured to Arin and himself—“in the wilderness on a hunting trip, every second there are plants… inside us?”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” Arin muttered.

“I… I think so?” Noburu said.

“Are there any here?” Finella said, gesturing around.

“It looked like the duel burned most of it away,” Noburu said. He pointed at the edge of the area, saying, “There’s plenty of ghostly vines and ferns around the edges. They look different here compared to the stuff in the Eastern—”

Before he could finish, Finella had darted to the wall, spreading her arms wide. “Here, right? Am I walking through them right now?”

Amelia blinked her vision into the Shimmer. It was easy to do now, especially with the atmosphere thick with aether from their duel. “Yes,” she informed the demon. “You have ferns going through your legs. If you move slowly, they’re pushed away, but when you move quickly, they pass through you.”

“Really?” Finella looked down, frowning. She moved her legs, as if kicking an invisible ball. “I can’t feel a thing. Nothing. Wait!” She looked at Amelia with widened eyes. “You can see it!? Do you have the same blessing?”

“I don’t,” Amelia admitted. “I had some guidance at the academy that let me learn how to see into it.” While the Ainese twins rushed to the wall and began trying to grasp the invisible flora, Amelia explained how she’d developed the ability after cycling Speaker-levels of aether.

“Aether in the Shimmer naturally dissipates into the real world,” Amelia explained. “The term is aetherphobic. I think that’s why there’s so little interaction between the two realities, and why it’s so hard to perceive through the aetherfield.”

“But we could touch Noburu,” Finella pointed out. “Why can’t we touch these plants?”

“I think… I think there are even deeper layers,” Amelia said. “If I had to guess, the ghostly plants we see in the Shimmer are real plants from a deeper layer, leaking through.”

“And aether burns them away?” Arin asked, frowning. “Every time we use aura or cast a spell, are we destroying part of a forest in another world?”

“I… don’t know,” Amelia said with a shrug. “It’s all new to me. Noburu’s supposed to help me figure out how to cross the boundary myself.” She looked to Serena and shrugged. “It would be advantageous if I could hide in there, in case my cover is blown or something, or I need to sneak somewhere.” She went on to explain the sepia-coloured world, and how vibrantly coloured aether was, and the advantage it gave her in seeing what kind of magic someone was activating.

“You can read my formations?” Hinako asked. “Were you…?”

“Not during the duel,” Amelia admitted. “I thought it wouldn’t be fair.”

“If I could learn how to see it myself,” Hinako muttered. “The advantage I would have…”

“There’s more,” Serena announced. She gathered the squad and detailed to them the time differential between the two realities. Someone in the Shimmer observing someone in the real world would see them moving twice as slow, giving them an incredible advantage when it came to avoiding them or positioning themselves for an attack.

“How could you avoid that?” Finella asked. “If you can’t perceive the incoming attack, then…?”

“While those in the Shimmer can interact with the physical world, the amount of force they can impart is magnitudes less than they could if they were present,” Serena explained. “Noburu, for example, needs to apply his entire body and strain to swing open a door that a normal person could open with a slight push. Someone would need to exit into the real world to effectively attack. ” Serena looked over the squad as they digested the information, continuing, “I was informed that the threat of a sneak-attack originating from the Shimmer is why aether users, especially Cascadian Lords, are encouraged to maintain their aura or wards at all times.”

“Who would…” Finella’s expression darkened as she asked, “Darkblades?”

“That’s right.” Serena nodded. “It’s how they’re so adept at moving about covertly, and why they’re so good at disappearing after their attacks.”

“They bombed a carriage last year,” Finella said quietly. “Killed a Lord-Prospect.” 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

“When they assassinated a highborn in Fengra Proper,” Ido said, tightening his knuckles, “the suspicion fell onto us lowlanders. They accused us of hiding the culprits.” He shook his head. “We hate them as much as anyone else.”

“They broke into Tanhae’s scriptorium,” Mel said. “Stole all the ancient records we have of the Kami, especially the pre-Empire era. I don’t know why, but we lost so much old knowledge…” The demon trailed off, shaking her head.

“The Empire isn’t helpless,” Serena said. “Far from it. There are others like Noburu, who share his ability, not from a blessing but from their own efforts. People who are powerful, who can hunt them where we cannot. Or at least, where we cannot go yet.”

“Who?” Finella asked.

“It’s not my place to share that information, Officer Bright.”

“Right, understood.” The Northerner looked around. “So we’re going to learn how to enter the spirit realm?”

Serena’s lip curled. “You’re welcome to try.” She turned and gestured to Noburu. “Everyone, gather around. Everything you hear from Noburu or me on this subject shall not leave your lips once we leave this place, so listen well. Amelia…” Serena glanced in Amelia’s direction.

Amelia indicated she was ready, and Serena instructed Noburu to explain the mechanics of his blessing to the best of his knowledge.

“For me,” he began, his voice uneasy as everyone crowded him. “It helps when I think about fear. That’s what I was feeling when it first happened. The smell of burned toast helps. If I remember that, it’s easier. I just…” He waved his hands awkwardly. “It’s like I’m flexing a muscle inside of me. I don’t know if that’s aether or not. I remember what it’s like to be scared, the smell of burned toast, and then it activates. There’s a sudden rush, like plunging… It’s like I’m being plunged into cold water, but I’m not wet. It’s like I’m plunging… inside of myself.” Noburu rambled for another minute. Evidently, his lack of experience with aether made it difficult for him to find the right words.

“There’s no guarantee the process will be the same for you all,” Serena said. “A blessing is a blessing, after all. His description of cold-plunging reminds me of how novice mages talk about how it feels to activate magic the first few times.”

“Mmm!” Amelia hummed. “I was told by someone that it was about finding your shadow. Not your normal shadow, but your shadow in the Shimmer.” That tidbit of information came from both the Lord Guardian and Anathor, but Amelia suspected it wouldn’t be best to share their identities without their permission.

“How are we supposed to find a shadow in a realm we cannot see?” Finella asked.

Amelia didn’t have an easy answer. “I guess you need to gain the sight first?” she offered, tapping her face just below her eyes. “That’s what I did, anyway.” She faced Noburu and asked, “Can you show us again?”

“Yes.” Noburu nodded. After a moment of concentration, he snapped into the Shimmer, leaving behind a stunned group of onlookers and the pungent smell of burnt toast. This time, Finella and the rest were able to hold back from trying to grab him, instead focusing their perception on detecting him, trying to find any clue to how they could naturally replicate his ability.

“This smell,” Mel began, “he described it as burned toast, but to me it smells like aether exhaustion.” The demon glanced at Amelia and said, “When I was attacked and pushed into orange, I remember smelling this. I remember thinking I had burned out the aether pathways themselves.”

“Mmm,” Finella hummed. “Now you say it, that sounds right. It’s similar to the smell of burned aether. Sometimes you smell something like this when a spell misfires or an aura is shattered.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Noburu reappeared, breathing heavily. “It’s difficult,” he said. “I can do it two more times. Each time is harder than the last. It’s… draining.”

“Perhaps entering and existing requires using a certain amount of aether,” Hinako suggested. “That might be why it’s so difficult for you, who isn’t used to cycling.” The demon clicked her fingers, saying, “It would also explain why you need to hold your breath. It would help keep in the small amount of aether all people naturally take in when they breathe.”

“If we train him up,” Amelia said, “I think he could stay in there much longer.”

They discussed theories for another minute before everyone found their own secluded spot. They sat down and began trying to emulate Noburu’s mistwalking. Other than Amelia, everyone else was directed to first focus on developing their sight. Although Serena wouldn’t allow them to cycle anywhere near the levels of aether Amelia needed to do with Lunaria, lest they attract unwanted attention, they were encouraged to focus on enhancing their perception however they could and start from there.

Amelia took a breath and looked at her feet. In the Shimmer, the world was painted in an even, sepia light that was both warm and omnipresent. The direction that Anathor had given her, that she needed to find her shadow in the Shimmer, was simple at first, but seemingly impossible in practice.

Initially, she thought the Red Moon would cast a secret shadow visible only in the Shimmer that would unlock the ability, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t see anything. She conjured up a simple light spell, casting a strong shadow across the stony floor, but that shadow wasn’t reflected in the Shimmer. Then Amelia had the bright idea to force the light in the Shimmer itself, and that did work. She had to pour in a magnitude more aether, as the aetherphobic reality resisted the manifestation, but she did manage to cast a shadow!

But what should she do with it?

It was just that, a shadow. It wasn’t a real thing that could be touched, only observed. There was no unusual aether signature emitting from it or anything that tickled Amelia’s instincts. She stood up and tried to step into it, thinking that maybe it would work as some kind of portal, but she simply looked silly taking strange, short steps.

“How’s it going?” Serena said quietly, walking over after Amelia had been at it for half an hour.

She explained her progress, or rather, her lack of progress.

“Perhaps it isn’t talking about a literal shadow,” Serena said. When Amelia raised an eyebrow, her girlfriend continued, “In Sangoism, there’s a concept of knowing yourself. You’ve heard me talk about it before, as it’s an important concept when it comes to manifesting higher colours of aura. Aether quantity and control can only get you so far. To begin manifesting orange, yellow, and above, the warrior must be at peace with their mind, their purpose. The advice you were given reminds me of Sangoism because Sango’s teachings also talk of finding your shadow.”

“Oh?” Amelia tilted her head.

“Sango didn’t mean a literal shadow. It’s an old Samino expression. The shadow refers to the darker part of our soul. The hidden desires we have. The hidden emotions of jealousy, envy, hate, and bitterness. Everyone likes to think that they are good, and many people are good, but even good people have a darkness, a shadow.” Serena smiled softly, saying, “Although if anyone lacked a shadow, it would be you, I suppose.”

Amelia breathed out slowly. “If that’s the answer, then why did Anathor feel the need to be so secretive about it? Couldn’t he have come out and said that in the first place?” Honestly, what was with the Formless and his needlessly mysterious ways? And that Lord Guardian! Had he given her the same advice, secretly chuckling to himself, knowing she would go down an entirely wrong path!?

“Journey before destination,” Serena said. “One of my favourites of Sango’s teachings. If everyone, everywhere, was just given the answers to all their troubles, then people would forget how to look.”

“Noted,” Amelia mumbled. “Thank you,” she added quickly.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Serena said, walking away and entering into small talk with Seonmi, who had, due to her lack of aether control, spent the time practising her rifle handling instead.

Amelia slowed her breathing, slowly bringing her into the meditative state used for aura refinement. She kept going until the voices of Serena and Seonmi became distant, until she couldn’t hear the breathing of anyone else. Until it was just her and an expanse of peaceful nothingness.

What was her shadow?

What part of her was full of bitterness and envy?

The first thing that came to mind was the negative emotions she associated with her old affliction. Chronic Endothelial Collapse Syndrome. Something that had stumped the doctors of her world. Even with their advanced technology, it was a coin flip whether the patient would recover or not. Amelia thought of her past pain, of the stabbing sensation that would course through her veins that no pain-blocking medication could erase.

There was hatred there, yes. She hated her illness. But… that wasn’t new, nor was she in denial about it. In fact, once she’d learned that the source of her pain was the very same shard that had blessed her with so much wonderful capability, she’d felt an almost rapturous relief. It had validated all those years of suffering. It was an explanation.

In a way, she was both thankful and regretful that she had to go through such a painful period to get here. Yet, she would go through it all again if it meant she could stay by Serena’s side. Of that she was sure. It wasn’t just from her overwhelming love for her adorable, soft-hearted girlfriend. She was…

She was scared of being alone again.

Somewhere, deep within her, she felt some part of herself click into place.

But it wasn’t enough.

She wasn’t really an envious person. Amelia didn’t covet wealth or fame. She loved life itself and was more than satisfied that she could live in this world, exploring and experiencing new things with Serena. No, not just Serena. She loved that she could share these experiences with everyone. Whether that was with the habitual-drinking-but-maybe-it's-an-act Aiden, or the Jimari-loving Finella. She loved supporting Mel’s drive to improve and helping kickstart Hinako’s career. She loved the playful nature of the twins and how they could switch into being serious when needed. Every day, Daichi came out of his shell a little more, and Noburu became a little more at ease around everyone else. Seonmi teased everyone a little more, making sly comments that hinted at her true, good heart.

And she loved Rommy, of course.

But was there a darker side to all of her support and love? Was it perhaps not what she loved—her friends and girlfriend—but who or what she didn’t love? Instead of what actions she took, such as blasting healing spells a little bit more powerful than expected, was her shadow about what actions she didn’t take? Was the fact that she wasn’t running about under Asclepius healing city after city an indication that she didn’t really care or didn’t deserve her powers?

Or was it something simpler than that?

Was it the fact that she felt more at home in this Empire of demons than she did around her fellow humans? She’d been excited to make friends with Polina, even when she was under a disguise as Tatiana, and had been excited to come to Ishaq, which possessed a long-standing human population. But… she wouldn’t abandon her demon friends for the humans. Not just that, but she wouldn’t be able to join the human nations and fight Cascadia. How could she fight the Empire that had nurtured her girlfriend into the amazing and competent demon she was?

Amelia was, in her own way, quite selfish.

Something else clicked inside of her. A faint sensation of things falling into place.

She’d been excited about becoming a saint, but it had been all for the wrong reasons. She was using the Demon Church and its organisational powers to help her heal the masses. She wasn’t even a devout follower of either the humonic or demonic testaments. That would cause chaos if it were ever to be found out. But did she even care? How much obligation did she have to protect the sanctity of a religion that disapproved of her relationship?

She wasn’t naive; she knew she wasn’t the only one taking advantage of another. The Empire was taking the opportunity to use her sainthood as a hammer in both domestic and international politics. It was a relationship built on a public lie. Amelia hated lying; she hated dishonesty, but here she was, having entered into a mutually dishonest relationship with the Demon Church without a second thought.

That made her a bit of a hypocrite, didn’t it?

What else was there? When had she betrayed the good life she tried to lead? Perhaps when she’d lost control?

There had been quite a few times, hadn’t there?

The first was when she’d sighted Korvus attacking Serena, all the way back during the Battle of Port Highwind. Even back then, she’d become thoroughly smitten with her demon captain. Her feelings hadn’t manifested into love until she saw the Northerner shear off Serena’s arm. Seeing her girlfriend’s body being damaged like that had caused her to feel…

Wrath.

Korvus’ mutiny hadn’t angered her. She’d understood why he might have done it, the cold logic behind a fanatic humanphobic demon, who himself struggled to understand who she was or why she was suddenly so close to the captain. That hadn’t angered her. But when she saw Serena being hurt, she had lost it. Her aether had moved almost by itself, and she’d formed Aseco before she knew what was happening.

And then she’d given him a damn good thrashing.

And enjoyed doing it.

Later, the power she’d used had scared her, but when Serena was attacked again in Kenhoro, in that small cafe by the Taruna and Salinas Speakers, she’d felt the same rage, the same wrath, take over. It hadn’t felt so bad at the time, but she was still new to Speaking and was barely in control of her emotions and—

No, that was an excuse.

She was lying to herself.

She’d enjoyed, in the moment, hurting those Speakers. She’d snapped their wrists. A short time later, when the floor had collapsed, and she was buried under rubble with Serena, the memory, the feeling of doing that to someone had caused her to break down, confessing her secret to her soon-to-be girlfriend. Ever since, she’d told herself it was just her losing control, that she hadn’t really liked dealing out vengeance.

She couldn’t deny it anymore.

There was a deep, dark satisfaction in hurting someone who tried to take from her what kept the world bright and worthy of love. Not that it was a big part of her personality. Ninety-five per cent of her still wanted to kill her problems with kindness, and a genuine smile that would remind the world that a small act of good goes a long way, and that it was never too late to turn to a better path. But there was darkness in the remaining five per cent. It was small, but it was a part of her every bit as much as the rest of it was.

Something in her twisted.

She was close now.

She’d admitted to herself and to Serena that she would be willing to kill to protect her friends. Now she understood herself, she realised just how far she would be willing to go in defence of her loved ones. The power she had was a fragment of a god, of that she was sure. It didn’t make her a god, but it made her something similar. The Empress had a shard, and what did they call her?

A demigod.

That’s what she was, wasn’t she?

And who was she, truly?

Amelia Thornheart, she thought. But that wasn’t all. She was capable of dishing out healing and kindness every bit as much as she was capable of wrath and vengeance. She was…

Dreadmage Thornheart.

“A demigod,” she whispered, as the final piece aligned within her.

She looked within herself in the Shimmer, at her glistening soul. She looked at the darkness within, not separate or foreign, but every bit a part of her as the rest.

She reached for it.

A mighty noise sounded, shattering the stones around her feet, bringing with it a pungent smell that filled her nose.

And just like that.

She entered the Shimmer.