The Kindness of Shadows

The Kindness of Shadows

A Story by SEBrunson
"

An angelic being falls to a nascent earth and is helped by one of the first sentient forms of life.

"

C. 70,000 BC, Earth, Coast of present-day South Africa.

 

The creature fell from the sky like a comet, ablaze and trailing a train of sparkling fire. Its descent to earth was quick, plunging through clouds and narrowly past snowy mountain peaks. As it fell its size diminished, shrinking as if the majority of itself was burning away, until a mere scrap struck a glancing blow off the side of a cliff and began to tumble down it. Every hard surface it smashed against was left smoldering and glowing and melted for a time, leaving an easy path to follow if any being had the intention.

 

Perhaps it was this creature's good luck that its assailants didn't care where it fell, only that it did.

 

In time the glancing blows it struck against the vertical stone slowed it down, and as it reached the sandy shoreline it skidded to a stop at the shallows. The water steamed and hissed in fury, tugging at the falling creature's momentum until it had it in its clutches, and the creature began to submerge and sink, its fire extinguished.

 

At dawn the next day, the gentle lapping of water on the shore washed around a ruined body lying on the sand face down. It was naked and burned, in the shape of a human being but with two large, broken wings with what used to have plumage in slate gray. Blood leaked from several cuts and open wounds, and ash leaked from its slate gray hair back into the water. Long, black, sharp nails grew from its fingers, which slowly twitched and clutched at the soft, wet sand.

 

With great effort the creature began to move, curling up in the fetal position and clutching its stomach before it vomited saltwater, blood, and ash out onto the sand. Once purged, the creature drew in lungfuls of air and began to breathe again, coughing and bringing color back to its skin, darkening now to an Earthen brown. With such renewed vitality, the creature's flesh began to heal quickly, the wounds sealing up and fading away as if they had never been. Such quick healing was of benefit to its body, but as its wings began trying to mend in their disorganized state, the muscles and sinews reattaching incorrectly, leaving those pinions bent and unusable. Unable to fold them properly or move them without restriction or pain, the creature wailed in frustration and dismay, its voice ringing up the cliffs facing the beach.

 

The pain of its mishealed state and its loneliness left the creature in despair, and it could think of nothing else to do but sit on the sand and look at the water. Whatever determination it might have had before was thoroughly ripped from its heart, and it couldn't comprehend what had happened or what to do.

 

It was lost.

 

But it wasn't alone.

 

From the dark shadows of the overhanging cliffs, another being watched the strange broken creature. Its cry had drawn it out of the murk to the very border of light, and it watched this winged thing sit on the sand and stare at the water for a long time. The creature's body was laughably vulnerable - it had no fur or scales or feathers over its most vital parts. It only seemed to have sharp nails on its slender fingers and toes, and its while its wings were large and feathered, they were clearly useless. Three digits lifted from the top of each wing, each tipped in a curved black claw, but even the digits on the right wing were mangled and bent, moving hardly at all even as those on the other side curled and straightened every now and then.

 

The being in the shadows studied the fallen creature for days, marveling at how it didn't eat or drink. Its body suffered for it but still the creature didn't stir. It didn't do any of the things other animals did, not even human beings. It was so fascinating that the being in the shadows was determined to talk to it, but such things were very difficult. The world of shadows was ephemeral and shapeless, but the world of light required a form and substance. The being had no preconceptions about what it was supposed to look like, so it decided to take the form of the fallen creature on the beach, with a few changes.

 

At the darkest hour of night, the being of the shadows stepped into the moonlight. It had been working on its body all day, and it was excited to use it. The feeling of sand on its feet was odd but delightful, and the cool air over its skin was thrilling. The way its feathers danced on its wings, unbroken in its case, was almost enough to make it laugh out loud, and it breathed in the night air, smelling and tasting it with relish. Unlike the creature on the beach, the being from the shadows was taller and more slender. Its hair was black, as were its feathers, and its skin was velvety coal. Only its eyes were light in color - silver and gleaming with interest at all that they saw. To see with eyes was so different.

 

Eventually it walked down the beach and looked at the miserable creature, but the creature didn't notice it. It walked closer, and closer still, until it covered up the light from the moon and blanketed the grieving creature in shadow. Only then did the fallen thing look up, and it only looked confused and lost. Not frightened.

 

The being from the shadows was greatly encouraged.

 

Thinking about how the creatures of light had to eat and drink, it pointed at the water, then at its mouth. The fallen creature looked down miserably, and the shadow being found an empty, old turtle shell. With some exertion it ripped the bottom from the top and discarded the former, using the shell as a dish. It scooped up water from the ocean and drank it, then it drank more. The fallen creature shifted and watched, and when it was handed the shell full of water, it took it and slowly drank, but it spit out the water and grimaced. It didn't want any more.

 

Undeterred, the shadow creature kept thinking. Creatures of the light ate solid things, plants and flesh. The shadowy being pulled up some sea grass and brought it over, but the fallen creature shook its head miserably. The shadowy being put the grass back into the water, then noticed fish swimming around in the tidal pools. It tried to catch them with its dark hands but couldn't manage it; the silvery fish were too fast. Instead, it closed its eyes and lowered its hand to the water. All around the spread of its fingers the seaweed yellowed and disintegrated, and slowly little silvery fish floated to the surface, dead. They were easy to gather, and the shadowy being opened its eyes and filled the shell with fish, then brought it back to the fallen creature.

 

The creature looked at the fish, and the shadowy being, but it was so hungry that it accepted the shell and ate the fish whole, every one. And as it ate, the shadow creature stood up and looked at other beings walking slowly down the beach, broken and hungry and lost. All of their wings were broken and mishealed, and they were all confused. The shadow creature guided them to more pools and provided for them, learning how to take the life from larger living things to provide its charges with flesh to eat and blood to drink.

 

All through the night the lost ones came, hundreds upon hundreds, and there was hardly enough to provide for them. With the morning coming on soon, the shadowy being thought to itself, considering how it wouldn't be able to remain in the burning light. It wasn't strong enough yet to keep its body together under such duress. But it couldn't leave these lost creatures. They needed help. Unsure of the wisdom of its decision, but feeling kindness in its heart, the shadow creature led the lost ones to a cave, the cave it had originally come out of itself. And there, within it, the shadow creature parted a rift within the shadows, making a way to the Otherworld, and guided the lost ones to pass from one place to another. Whatever had brought them to such a lowly state wouldn't be able to follow them now.

 

© 2023 SEBrunson


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Added on August 23, 2023
Last Updated on August 23, 2023
Tags: horror, short story, paranormal

Author

SEBrunson
SEBrunson

Boston, MA



About
S.E. Brunson writes short stories and novels in a wide variety of genres and styles, ranging from academic translations of medieval manuscripts to urban fantasy novels to a gruesome choose-your-own-ad.. more..

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