Shadows Over Arcadia Chapter 63: 62. Monster

Read chapter 63 of Shadows Over Arcadia by Zacheas on NovelPedia.

I am Maribel Holloway, age 16, and I am an adventurer, Envy’s partner, on my way to the capital of Hyperion with my very close friend Shadow. https://shadowsoverarcadia.com/api/storage/objects/uploads/3436dbb7-6e63-4972-b7d2-a17b68e373de Lyra had been shaken when she discovered what Shadow truly was. Her first reaction was shock and fear, but I managed to calm her down. Perhaps the trust she’d built during her time with Shadow made the truth easier to bear. After all, she had no reason to fear the one who had saved her life twice now, no matter how shocking his true nature might be. Shadow, on the other hand, seemed far more unsettled. Someone who didn’t know him as well as I do might not have noticed, but I could. The way he grew silent, kept his distance, and covered himself. I could feel the fear and self-loathing beneath it. It’s strange to think that Shadow, who throws himself into danger without hesitation, could fear anything. He’s made of mithril after all. Yet I know the one thing he fears most: being seen as a monster. Perhaps he even believes he is one, and dreads the moment others realize it too. He’s wrong, though. My Shadow is no monster. He’s kind, gentle, selfless, and brave—nothing like the monsters who only take and destroy. Shadow gives everything and asks for nothing. Lyra must see that too. She promised to keep his secret and even apologized for how she reacted. That was last night. This morning, Shadow was quiet while the rest of us ate breakfast and packed up to leave. He still seems tense, though he hides it behind that usual calm. Now, as we roll into Astradel, I watch him and wonder what I could possibly say to make him feel better. The wagon rattles down the cobblestone road, jolting about as its wheels clatter over broken stone slabs. A particularly violent jolt throws me forward, slamming my face into Shadow’s arm. “Ouch!” I yelp, hand flying to my nose as my eyes water and a sharp sting flares where it lost its battle with Shadow’s solid frame. “Sorry,” Shadow says, tightening his grip on the reins to guide Huckleberry and Buttercup around the loose stones. “It’s not your fault—it’s these damn roads,” I mutter in annoyance, rubbing my nose as I lean down to snatch Envy from the wagon’s floorboard, catching her just before she can slide off the edge. “Nice catch,” Envy says telepathically as I brush the dust from her with my sleeve. “Why don’t they fix them?” I muse as we pass one of the road’s recent victims—three men hammering a new pin into a wagon wheel, the cart laden with hay and drawn by an aged mule. The shattered remnants of its ill-fated predecessor lie cracked nearby. “A three decades of war leaves comfort a forgotten luxury,” Shadow responds sagely. I smile in spite of the bleak atmosphere—the thin people shuffling by in tattered clothes, their shoes worn through and their gazes downturned. Even so, hearing Shadow speak again lifts a quiet weight from my chest. He has a way of saying more with a few words than most do with a hundred. Now that he’s said it, Astradel really does seem like a forgotten city. Her buildings are cracked, her roads crumbling, and there seem far too few people out and about for a city of her size. I wonder how many the war, the famine, and the Withering have claimed. Based on the vacant buildings and the sprawling market street with so few vendors, it feels like this city was born in a time when its population was much greater. Shadow brings the wagon to a stop in front of a two-story building, a bit more embellished than its neighbors at the west end of the market. Its lower floor is lined with long, dusty windows, some cracked in places. At the center stands a pair of tall double oak doors with brass fittings, flanked by stone columns. Above them, a weathered sign reads: Adventurer’s Guild. “I guess we’re here…” I mutter, my gaze lingering on those words. Looking around, I hear the faint clamor of the market—the hammering on the wagon wheel down the road—but n