Chapter One: The Inseparable

In which some characters are introduced.

There was nothing special about this man. This man was probably around his mid twenties or so, yet stony eyes reflected centuries of pain. He was fairly tall, thin yet well built, tan skin, and long dark hair he probably cut himself. Which he did. You're welcome.

One Year.

One year for him, and ten for her. Time never seemed to work properly in dreams, never for him at least. It had been one year for him since he last saw her, in the gallery that was shared by both of their minds. One year since he saw another take his place. Only a single year for him, yet ten for her.

It was surprisingly hard to let her go, he found. Both had come a long way from that day, or rather night, he had first found her; trapped, alone and terrified of her own shadow. She had latched onto him almost immediately, although only after he had taken off the mask; the mask that was currently sitting on his desk in the study. He picked it up carefully, turning the gold keepsake over in his hands. He could see why a small child would be afraid of it. After all, it did look slightly… different than what most were used to seeing. Ancient things scared many people these days. However, he’d need all the proof he could get to show her that yes, he was indeed a real person. And, he knew exactly where she would be waiting for him, whether she knew it or not.

He carefully wrapped the mask in a spare shirt, placing it gently in his suitcase. He then put on his favorite trench coat, the one they had met in and would now meet again. They had to, after all, He had made her a promise. He packed the rest of the suitcase carefully, only adding a few sets of clothes along with very essential hygiene products. The man hummed softly, picking up a lone top hat he had received ages ago, much like many of his other belongings, and fitting it snugly onto his head. Taking one last look around the room covered in art and relics from times long gone, he left for the airport.

The flight was relatively short, (well, as short as you could get for going across the world) and as usual he ignored the looks the flight attendants gave him, politely declined when they offered him a seat in first class and when they brought in flight snacks. He always brought his own. After all, he'd hate to inconvenience anyone when the plane was going to crash anyway. But maybe crash wasn't the correct word. Disappear for an extended amount of time while flying over the ocean? Yes, much more accurate. However, he would be long gone before that happened though. But for now, let's allow him to enjoy his family friendly in-flight movie.

Let's go to the person he's meeting, the star of this show.

It was not a good day for a school trip. It was a good day for sitting curled up at home with a warm cup of tea and watching reruns of daytime television. Perhaps maybe sit outside and watch the rain fall gently on the grass. Lovely to think about, no?

However, that was not really an option for this particular character. And so, here she stood with the rest of her classmates in front of one of the largest art museums in the world, urged on by one of the few teachers who barely understood her and her wonderful 'other half'. Here she stood, soaking wet with one scraped knee, wearing a now ripped pair of jeans, and with what was definitely not a can-do attitude. Pain does tend to put a damper on things, I agree. It took all of two minutes for her to be able to separate herself from the group and hide somewhere without having a trail of blood follow her, the bright red droplets marring the pale cream of the tile floor.

Art museums both awed and terrified Tasha. Whenever she tried to remember the exact reason, she popped up, shoved her away from “forgotten” memories, and insisted it wasn't important. Tasha had given up trying ages ago.

You've got to take better care of yourself girl. I can't have you dying on me.

She appears out of nothing, her dark shadowy form moving to sit across from the girl on the floor. Her form was translucent, a mirror image of Tasha herself yet was so very different from her in a multitude of ways.

The room Tasha had gone into was empty except for a few pieces of art and a couple of benches, so there was no worrying about someone hearing her. However, the guards in the security room might get a kick out of watching a rather odd girl stare at a wall and talk to it.  

Tall walls and an arched ceiling gave the girl shelter from any of the others in the museum, voice echoing softly against the pale salmon painted brick. "Yeah,  yeah,  yeah. I know. Look I just..." She sighed. "It's not important…” She attempted to find the words, but knowing how the Shadow would act, there was no use in trying.  

Of course it’s not important. The shadows voice echoed inside of Tasha’s skull, and the girl squeezed her eyes shut. I told you, Girl. Just because it happens to be your head, doesn’t mean you’re in charge.

The shadow gave out a small hiss, the only sound actually audible to others. Tasha shifted uncomfortably, moving closer to the wall and further away from the shadow. But alas for her, it was never easy to ignore, much less get rid of the presence of the other. Tasha knew this all too well.

“Neither are you…” the girl’s voice was a whisper, though not unheard by the other.

The shadow snarled as what could be described as their fingers grew into claws, the sharp tips suddenly against Tasha’s throat. Brown eyes wide with fear looked into ghostly white ones, the shadow opening their mouth to speak aloud. “This. Is my body. Shut up about things you don’t know about!” Their voice echoed lowly and sent shivers down the girl’s spine. Fairly rude if you ask me.

The shadow moved back from the girl, glaring at her in anger. The girl opened her mouth to give the usual apology - but before she could, the girl’s mind left her. Her head lolled to the side, and her eyes had glazed over; she slumped forward, practically going limp.

Kid.

....?

....kid?

The shadow leaned forward, their eyes narrowing as they shook Tasha gently. There was no response. The girl’s eyes closed, mind drifting away from her body as the slightly worried other held up her limp body.

They sighed in frustration.  It's always as soon as I sit down I swear.

They phased inside Tasha's body, standing unsteadily and wincing at the dull throbbing in her leg. "With as much as you've been through, I wouldn't think a scraped knee would hurt you as much." She, who was no longer Tasha, said to the empty room. Not surprisingly, there was no answer.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Whatever you’re doing in there kid, you’d better not get into any trouble.” In one of the few times of her existence, she had actually lost track of the location of her host. She knew they were in her mind, but they couldn’t find where. And that, for some strange reason, scared the Tasha that was not actually Tasha.

---

Our Tasha was currently in an art gallery, much like the one she had left her body behind in, but also quite different.

Deep down, the place felt familiar, even with its eerie white walls and pictures too lifelike to be fake.

There was an emptiness that seemed to follow her around as she walked the gallery, as if her mind was searching for memories it could not find. She shook her head, focusing on the art. Some were things she recognized, things she had done but on a greater scale. Others were familiar or completely different. Abnormally realistic paintings and drawings decorated the walls, everything from flora to fauna bringing the blank white walls life and color. A landscape of an ancient city, a desert paradise built around a large oasis caught her eye, the large work of art taking up close to an entire wall. Tasha nodded to herself: Picture perfect beauty. She found nothing but portraits down one hallway; all of the women painted eerily similar- every now and then a blank space with an empty frame.

Tasha wandered through the gallery, the entire place oddly silent as she made her way through room after room.  However, a good portion of the art was missing; blank plaques showcasing nonexistent art, roped off areas of nothing, always nothing where there should be something.

She walked slowly, pausing in an empty white room with nothing but an open large wooden crate. Something immediately screamed at her to get out, just run as fast as she could away from that room. Something that was creeping up on her and any second would drag her down into-

Tasha started running.

Her footsteps echoed through the large halls and countless rooms of art. After several minutes, she skidded to a stop, chest heaving as she choked on air as she fell to the ground. It was actually a painful feeling, dying from the thing that gives you life as it rips through your throat. A feeling much like being strangled- I wouldn't recommend it.  Eventually she calmed down, the thick blanket of fear that was smothering her slowly disappearing.

She almost expected her to come out of nowhere and start chastising her.

But she was alone; this place was from a time before they had met.

...How did she know that?

Anyways.

Tasha shakily stood up, leaning against the wall. Why was she here?

Wandering further for what seemed like hours, she eventually stopped to rest in an off-white room with only a single painting, labeled '                 '.  She paused, trying to make out what exactly the painting was.

Footsteps echoed down the hall nearby, and the girl turned quickly, caught off guard as she heard someone enter the room. It was a man. A man wearing a rather old, yet new looking mask, an old worn coat, a slightly rumpled top hat, and dressed to the nines.

The room flickered, returning her to the world of reality for a moment. He was the only thing that didn't change between the mindscape and present times.

But, she was still in the white room housed in her mind. And now, he was as well.

"Greetings Tasha. Long time no see." He smiled, that soft warm voice bringing back ancient memories.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she moved forward and hugged him tightly, inhaling the scent of old paper and jasmine she had loved as a kid. He returned her embrace, removing the mask and revealing the man whose one year was her ten, dropping his suitcase on the tile. The room flickered again, returning them both to reality once again, out of the space shared by both their minds. Someone walking past the room paused for a moment, smiling to themselves at the happy reunion. They nodded once before rounding a corner and disappearing from view. Yet between the two in the room, nothing changed.

After a good while, she let go, looking at him carefully and hardly trusting her own voice. "Rince! I-I thought that you had..."

"Forgotten about you? No Tasha, I never forget." He sighed, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

"How are you here? It's been so long." She took a step back uncertainly, shouldering his hand off as she took a moment to actually look at him.

A pained expression crossed his face. The man, now Rince, had been expecting this, but it still hurt him a lot. "Ten years, actually. You've grown up... well, you’ve grown up a lot. But, you have to understand- I had to leave, I didn't have a choice." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."

The girl shook her head, brow furrowing in confusion. "No, no no. I meant here. Right here, standing in this art room. You can't be here."

He gave a small smile, playing as innocent as a small animal. "I made a promise, remember? And I'm not like her. I'm completely flesh and blood." He took a step forward and reached out to take her hand, squeezing it lightly. "Flesh and blood..." He repeated softly, almost as to partially convince himself.

Tasha's eyes narrow at this- and then she stops dead in sudden realization, pulling her hand free. "…How do you know about her?"

"We spoke before I left. We traded spots, but it was only-"

"What?" Her voice suddenly got dangerously low, and she moved backwards as a range of emotions flowed through her; anger, sadness, confusion, and finally, fury.

Even still, he took a step towards her, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. His eyes were sad, reflecting years of pain as Tasha's voice dropped, all too familiar to him. But there wasn’t time to get caught up in old memories. Right now, he had to stop her before she did anything dangerous. "Tasha, please calm down-"

"Do you have any idea what kind of hell I was put through?!” She cut him off suddenly, body shaking in rage while her voice rang throughout the museum.   “You could have stopped this ages ago but now we’re both stuck with only this stupid body to fight over, and we don’t even understand what’s going on anymore!!!" Black vein-like patterns began inching their way down her arms and up her neck, the blood seeming to drain from her face. Yet as soon as it began, the process reversed, Tasha collapsing on the ground as tears rolled down her face, and her eyes locking with Rince’s and asking a single question: Why?

He kneeled down and pulled the shaking girl into his arms, guilt coursing through him. She didn’t resist, letting herself be held and comforted, more confused than anything else at the moment.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Tasha..."

Rince was all too aware of another pair of eyes on him. Another pair that didn't quite exist, but existed all the same; another pair he hadn't seen since he had left.

"You should have come back sooner Rince...." The Tasha, who was not Tasha spoke, voice echoing.

"I know... I know." He murmured, the girl in his arms slowly slipping into a deep sleep from a combination of stress, exhaustion and pain along with the slightest pinch of magic. It was obvious that she had been under strain before, and adding him to the system was just an overload for her. He carefully picked her up, as if she were a child again, ignoring the odd looks from the security guards and their sudden interest as to the his relation to the girl, carrying her out of the art museum before gently placing her in the front seat of his car. After making sure she was secure, he moved to the drivers side, starting up the engine and setting off out of the city, leaving behind the security guards.

Much like him, the car was nothing special. A simple black car, owned by a simple man. The vehicle smelled close to exactly like him, the same relaxing scent of jasmine and old books infused into the plush padding of the seats. Soft music played in the background, the only other sound besides the soft hum of the motor as he drove. Tasha slept curled up in her seat, occasionally twitching as she dreamed. Rince took a sip of water from the bottle in the cup holder, humming quietly to himself. And so they were off.

---

It was a fairly long drive, almost two hours into the countryside and away from the city, most of which had varying yet beautiful views of soon to be harvested crops, swaying gently in the southern wind. Occasionally, he’d glance over at Tasha just to check on her, watching as the black vein like pattern slowly faded away. The pouring rain tapered off as they left the city, the dark clouds dissipating as He drove off. Turning his eyes back to the road, Rince focused on the task at hand.

He was on his way to one of the many houses he owned, Rince gripping the wheel tightly anytime a car followed them for over a few minutes; these were places he didn’t exactly want found. Yet, it didn’t take them long to be alone on the road again, the pavement going rugged as he turned onto a very narrow street, only large enough for one car to get through at a time. Trees provided shelter from the warm rays of the sun, Rince slowing down as they neared their destination.

Tasha woke up to Rince humming to some Taylor Swift song, the radio a small comfort; the girl sat quietly and let the music wash over her. She uncurled from her position in the passenger seat, sitting up and glancing around at her surroundings. Heavy forests surrounded them, the path they were on barely visible unless you were looking for it. She opened her mouth to say something, yet paused as she caught sight of Rince’s home.

They rolled to a stop as the road opened up to a large tree lined area, a very old looking house standing proud in the clearing. It looked very well taken care of, the small garden at the front of the house trimmed neatly, the windows polished, even the old wood seemed to glow as she looked at it, rather impressed. She did however, flinch as Rince took her hand lightly, and tried her best to keep from wrenching her arm away.

"Come inside. I'm sure you have a lot of questions." He said softly, squeezing her hand gently.

She nodded, almost in a daze as both got out of the car. Fresh and clean air assaulted the girl’s nose, and although it was much different than the smog lined streets of the city, it was welcome in a sense. The Shadow phased out of the girl's body, curiously examining the area. Slowly but surely, Rince walked up to the door of the house, unlocking it and opening the door for her to go in. Tasha walked quietly inside, followed by the Shadow and then finally the owner, Rince closing the door behind himself. The air seemed to change as she walked in, a wave of calm washing over her. It felt like... Home. The girl went and sat on the plush and broken-in couch, the shadow going and wrapping her arms around Tasha's neck and... Was she hiding from him?

Rince sat across from the two who were the same, yet separate.

"I'm sorry for the transition." He breaks the rather uneasy silence first, the clock in the living room ticking away.

Tasha opened her mouth to speak, then paused. Taking a deep breath, she folded her hands in her lap, staring at her shoes. "It was okay after the first few months. I... Learned quickly." "It was easy once she accepted it." The shadow added on.

He nodded. "You've been safe?"

Both are silent for a long time.  "There were-""a few times-""things might've-""gotten out of hand..." They both murmur, Tasha shifting guiltily.

"What happened?" His voice is calm, not a hint of anger or disappointment.

"There were seven-" "eight times." The shadow interrupts. Tasha nods. "Eight times we- I tried to..." She trails off, eyes glancing down to the now healing gashes on her wrists.

"...Why?" He asked quietly, voice sad as if it were his fault. Which, more or less, it was.

“I just... Couldn't handle it all. I was tired of dealing with everything and with her, with all of it." She shifted uncomfortably. The shadow looked away guiltily, uncomfortable as well.

"What did you do to her Solva?" He asked, the shadow shrinking back like she had been scolded.

"Solva?" Tasha glanced at her shadow, the creature hissing audibly and shrinking behind the girl.

The shadow, Solva, drew herself up to face Rince. "I did what had to be done. She wouldn't cooperate otherwise." They  growled. "Besides, I almost wish you had stayed with her. You deal with her corruption."

Rince seems unfazed by her words, standing and moving to sit next to Tasha. The girl was very confused already but- Her thoughts froze as Rince gently moved her long hair out of the way, exposing what looked like dripping ink down the back of her neck, slowly spreading from a black line that looked more like a large cut. He traced each path lightly down her shirt, visible only to him through the fabric; none of the trails went very far, but he knew it would spread.

"Stage two." He murmured. Tasha hissed quietly, wincing as if each touch burned.

"Sorry." He apologized quickly. "How long has she been like this?"

The shadow shifted. "Three years. Longer than usual, but It's had time to develop."

He nodded. "She's been-"

"I try to stop it whenever it surfaces, before she's too far gone." They add, stopping him mid-sentence.

He sighed, pulling a still very much confused Tasha against him and running a hand through her hair. She sank against him, closing her eyes and curling up with him. She could deal with this; it was familiar, and especially calming for the day she’d been having. She couldn’t remember too many things from her childhood, but this was one feeling that she was pretty okay with. She was still so much like the little kid he had practically been an older brother to, there for her when no one else was. No parents who cared, no friends. It was one of the reasons she slept so much when she was little. Just to see him.

And then he had left.

It hurt him to have caused so much damage to her, but there were things that had to be done before he could come back. He just didn’t realize how bad it would get. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much to explain- yet, as for right now... The girl needed the rest.

He stood, feeling the cool grasp of shadowy flesh as Solva gently hung onto his arm, practically asleep themselves. Unnatural, but something he was used to really. He carried them both to a spare room, setting them on the bed and watching as Solva carefully phased into Tasha's body, both existing perfectly in sync for the moment. He draped his trench coat over them, smiling tiredly as they immediately wrapped up in it.

He closed the door behind him as he left, sighing. "It's only a matter of time..."

He moved to the study where dozens of worn books lined the walls, each hand-written in his own language. The smell of paper and ink never seemed to leave this part of the house no matter where he ended up.  He pulled one of the leather bound journals out randomly, flipping it open and skimming the pages until he found the one he was unintentionally looking for.

A single page with only a picture and one sentence that was not written by his hand.  The picture was of Tasha and her Mother, back when the girl was only about five.

"Take care of my daughter Rince."

Her words had echoed through what seemed like every bone in his body. It's not like she had died, she had just forced everything out, forgotten- That was what she had wanted. There was no way she could have stayed the way she was and raised Tasha. So while she couldn't protect her, she left him to do it, the one who had helped her. However, even with her forgetting what she knew, a large gap had formed between the two, neither talking much to the other. They had tried to save something that was never meant to be it seemed.

But, to be completely honest with himself, he hadn't done a very good job on his end either. He sighed, closing the book. So much was going to change, he could feel it. And some things wouldn't be for the better.

He spent the remainder of the day writing in one of the books, recording everything from where he left off. Every day since he had last been here, since the last time Tasha had technically seen him. He gradually lost track of time, hand moving quickly as he was deep in his work.

He paused as the low tone of the doorbell rang, followed by a brief knock.

Rince blinked several times, eyes slowly looking up from his work.

The doorbell shouldn't have even worked.

He didn’t move, waiting a good fifteen minutes before walking silently to check on Tasha.

Sound asleep. Good. Who-?

His thought was cut off as the doorbell rang again.

Rince's eye twitched. This should not be happening.

He walked to the door, opening it slowly. "Can I help-" the breath was suddenly knocked out of him as someone plowed into his form, pushing him to the ground. He was getting really tired of being cut off.

The intruder stood over him for a moment before motioning two others in. The sounds of clanging furniture echoed through the house as each room was slowly ripped apart. Rince rolled over onto his chest, grunting at the pain coming from his ribs. But he couldn't afford to linger on that now.

He forced himself to get up, wincing at every little movement of each joint as he slipped quietly into the hall and moved to the door of Tasha's room. A rather irritated Solva was standing guard outside the room, eyes narrowed.

"I thought this place was secure."

"It was." He growled in reply, preparing for the incoming intruders. "She's safe, correct?"

"Yes. Asleep and safe."

The sound of glass breaking from within the room stopped both of them cold. Rince immediately ripped open the door, freezing as he saw three people trying to pull a gagged and fighting Tasha through the window. The intruders paused for barely half a second at his sudden appearance. He moved to rush forward, only to be pulled back.

"Don't. Wait." The shadow held him by the back of his shirt.

Though every bone screamed for him to go after her, something deep in his mind agreed. They had to wait.

Then he saw why.

Tasha’s warm brown eyes, showing nothing but fear suddenly went completely black- and she froze. Black ran down her arms, falling into familiar vein like patterns. But that was not what kept everyone still and brought on a pure silence from the others in the room. It was her scream. As if thousands of voices had decided to cry out simultaneously in fear and anguish.

Her entire being seemed to flicker in and out of existence, and the captors took a step back, releasing their grip on her. A thick black substance like ink dripped from her fingertips, her hands and lower arms slowly turning pitch black.  There was nothing but pure silence for a minute.

"Fools."

Her voice was doubled when she spoke, sending chills down everyone’s spines. A small puddle had gathered at her feet, the liquid oily and almost acidic as it gradually spread across the floor, burning through the hardwood while ringlets of smoke began rising from where ever the substance touched. One of the other females and two of the males in the room edged away from the rim of the peculiar material, though was suddenly frozen in place as dozens of needle-like shafts shot outward and away from their target. The intruders found themselves stabbed countless times all at once, what blood there was from their wounds mixing with the ink as it all pooled around the newly deceased and their killer. There was the distinct smell of burning flesh in the air, even as the spikes retracted slowly into the floor, smoke curling from their corpses as they hit the ground with a loud thud.

Rince hadn't moved a muscle in response to the sudden development. There were a few burning scratches on his cheek and arms, but compared to the bodies on the floor, they were nothing.

Tasha seemed to flicker again and she collapsed on the ground, nothing remaining except her limp form, the ink and blood, and of course the dead would-be captors. Even the ones in the other rooms seemed to have vanished.

Rince and the Shadow rushed forward, quickly scooping her up into his arms. "Solva-"

"I know. I'm on it." The creature nodded, diving into Tasha's body.

He carried Tasha out, gently placing her in his car. They needed to leave, find somewhere safe. Yet the closest safe house was...

He growled and ran back inside, taking a few books and running back.

There wouldn't be any point if he arrived without them. Glancing at the bloody and ink stained Tasha, Rince took a deep breath and drove off, glaring at the dark van that was strategically parked just outside the guest room window.

Tasha had been right about one thing, he mused. They were fools to try and take what was his.

End of chapter one.