Heartshadow (Chapter 1)

Summary: [Nama lives an average life in an average town and no two-bit music box melody is going to change that. Her magical best friend is set up to be the hero, not her. Yet as reality twists beneath her feet to the beat of a forgotten lullaby, Nama must question the very foundation of everything and everyone she knows - including herself.]

Maybe they won't believe her. They don't have any reason to believe it's true. Yet she can't turn back. As Nama pounds her fist against the council door, she knows it all comes down to this. In her ripped jeans and bloodied shirt, she doesn't present a super credible image, but there's no time to change.

The door doesn't open.

Nama crashes her fist through it instead. They'd hear her out this time whether they want it or not. This looms bigger than the town's ego.

If they won't believe her, this town will only be the first to die.

Two days ago, she didn't know.

Two days ago, she woke up at home and everything was fine.

.

Everything was fine.

Nama curled on her side away from the quiet chime of her alarm, not wanting to get up and cross the room to turn off her phone. It was Saturday and she didn't have to get up early today. As the volume crept upward, she hid in her curls of red hair, shoving handfuls against her ears with a heartfelt groan.

Polite tapping at her door interrupted the beat as her mother Aenica asked, "Nama, can you please turn off your alarm?"

Though a smile shaped the words, it sharpened an edge of irritation that sliced through the air with no room for protest.

Nama knew better than to say anything.

"It's quiet and it's by the door," she said anyway, pulling the pillow fully over her head.

"Turn it off," her mother instantly demanded, moving away from the door with a soft step.

Music box notes still floated upward from her phone, bouncing softly through the pillow. Nama emerged reluctantly. She wiped the sleep from her face with long, knobbly fingers and stood on heavy legs still longing for bed.

She reached the phone and flicked off the alarm, immediately pivoting to cocoon herself in blankets again. Sunlight fell on the room with a vengeance, yes, but it was Saturday. This was her one day off. Nama sighed out the wakefulness her little interlude had given her and shut her eyes.

The music started again.

It was a lullaby from some classical musician a century ago, familiar but not loved, simplified into a single melody of tinkling metal. She knew it, probably from a class or something. High school, maybe. Ancient history, in any case. The problem was not the song, but rather that it was playing.

"Off!" her mother called again from her room next door.

"On it!" Jumping more spryly from bed on this second waking, Nama frowned down at the phone in her hand and very precisely poked the off button on the screen. There. She must have hit snooze before on accident.

Minutes later, the alarm went off a third time.

"Nama!" Aenica's indignant exclamation pushed her to her feet in seconds this time.

"I'm sorry!" she cried back, grabbing the phone with both hands and preparing to turn the whole thing off when abruptly the song changed.

She was certain it had never had lyrics before. Or had it? She thought she'd remember something like this, though.

The man's voice was soft and low as he crooned along with the music box.

"Hush, my child. Don't close your eyes.

The world is bright but it tells lies

to you.

It tells lies to you."

Her mother's shouted protest faded as Nama focused on the words, frown creasing into her brow. Something sharp pierced the inside of her chest like the turning shards of a forgotten memory. Her lips moved along with the lyrics that repeated. She must have simply forgotten the words until she heard them again. They were strange for a lullaby. She couldn't make heads or tails of it, but if she ignored the actual words, it was a pretty melody.

Shaking her head, she turned it off a third time. Pretty or not, she'd rather be asleep and she was sure her mother wasn't happy she was keeping her up.

She'd been shouting a moment ago, after all, though now she had gone silent.

It was very quiet, actually.

Nama hadn't expected her mother to fall asleep that quickly.

...What time was it, anyway? Nama tilted the phone again, causing the phone to light. Numbers stood out in stark relief against the picture of Nama and Jerri, her best friend, same as always. Nama's image was frozen in an awkwardly crooked smile, eyes flicked toward Jerri and caught by hers. She smiled back, one hand on Nama's waist and the other keeping her afro from blowing into her own face in the wind. Across them both, the time was clearly shown.

Right there.

Yep, that was definitely the time.

Nama stared in incomprehension at the digits, unable to take them in.

The numbers were there and she could recognize that they would tell her the time, but she couldn't read them. It was like they were written in another language, but she knew somehow they weren't. The meaning simply slipped from her mind, sand through dry fingers.

"Okay," she told herself, putting the phone down delicately on her bedside table with a gentle clack. The sound was flat, an oppressive silence boxing it in and extinguishing it before it could travel far from the phone. She'd just ask her mom. Since she'd been awake seconds ago and kind of grumpy, she should still be awake, even if she was lying very quietly in her bed.

Very quietly, indeed. Nama ran a hand over her face. This was getting ridiculous. Her toes slid onto the wood floor, its grain rough and familiar beneath her feet. Bright and still, her mother's room looked much like it always did. A red jewelry box crouched squat on the worn dresser, bright even against the beige walls that surrounded her as she stepped in. Old pamphlets and articles pinned here and there broke up the sameness. Her mother kept a copy of everything she'd written. It was all where it had been the day before.

And in the center, the bed.

The blanket was grey and covered her mother from head to toe. Draped over her face, it was a shroud. Nama felt a shiver of unease slot into place in her middle. Her mom must've been tossing and turning before to end up like that. Never mind that it had only been moments since she saw her awake. Nama could have fallen asleep longer than she thought. Her hand reached for the blanket, heartbeat clawing up her chest.

She yanked away the cover. Lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling, Aenica's arms lay stiffly by her sides. She was even dressed for the day, shoes and all. Nama caught the scream in her throat and forced herself to shove her fingers to her mother's cold neck.

No pulse.

She was fine. She'd been fine minutes ago. Nama couldn't understand, sinking down beside the bed with hands in her own hair. How could this happen so quickly? Had her mother died and Nama simply hadn't heard? There wasn't another explanation that didn't involve magic. And Nama didn't know magic well enough to guess. She drew her knees into her chest on the floor, pressing her forehead down.

"Mom," she said softly, choking on a sob.

"Yeah?"

But that was her voice.

Desperately, Nama wiped the tears away and looked up. Her mother blinked blearily at her with a furrowed brow. Pale blue pajamas sat cheerfully on her bird-like frame. Same as she wore every night. She was breathing and alive. Even the light had changed. Gone was the ambient glow; instead the room was darkened by the heavy blue curtains fighting the window.

A hand touched Nama's face.

"Nama, are you okay?"

Ripping her mind from the morass of dark water thoughts she'd been about to sink in, Nama stuttered the only thing she could think to say, "You weren't waking up."

"Honey, I was exhausted," her mother waved a hand, dark auburn hair sticking up slightly on one side of her head as she came to. With a shake of her head to shed the sleepiness, she mumbled, "I probably dropped straight into REM sleep and didn't come back. Until you woke me up."

"Sorry," Nama offered in a small voice, still reeling. She had seen that, hadn't she? Unless she was asleep and this was an extended nightmare. But Nama felt awake. Either way, her reason for waking her felt insufficient now. She didn't want to admit she'd only wanted to ask what the time was and so she stayed quiet.

"Well, if I'm up, I'm up," her mother sighed, swinging her legs out of bed. "Even if it is unreasonably early on a Saturday."

That was kind of the perfect lead in, though. Nama couldn't let it pass; she ventured hesitantly, "What time is it, anyway?"

With a shrug, her mother sighed into a stretch, "Probably eight. Now I'd like to get dressed alone, if you wouldn't mind."

Nama nodded, only lingering at the doorway a moment to check one more time. Her skin was flushed with sleep, eyes squinted against the light, but fully alive.

It was... some kind of dream that she had been anything else.

Nama shut the door.

Downstairs, the rooms were tidy and white as always. A fruit bowl that had been maintained since before Nama was born sat on the coffee table of the living room and the TV was still on from last night. In fact, it wasn't nearly as quiet as she'd thought it was in the dream. Birds were chirping outside along with a lone cricket, the pipes rumbled to life as her mother started a shower upstairs, and the wind rushed around the house, blending with the white noise of the TV. Nama picked up a remote as she passed through and turned it up.

It'd be nice to have a little more noise right now.

"...third robbery intercepted by Stardust and the Witches..." the reporter droned dutifully as she entered the kitchen. It had the most personality in the whole house, she thought. Herbs strung from the rafters and a real wood-burning stove stood as testament to how long her family had been in Burgtun. Though the rest of the house had had an update with the times, her kitchen had stopped somewhere in the middle. Nama let out a sigh of relief as her hands traced the rough-hewn cabinets, retrieving the spices she needed and heading to the modern fridge which stood out like a sore thumb among the rustic cabinetry.

She'd make biscuits and gravy today. Her mom only really knew three dishes, so it was up to Nama to bring some variety to their diet and they hadn't had biscuits in a while. Aside from that, it was a comfort dish for her.

Glazed, dead eyes ripped through her mind and Nama put down the mixing bowl with some force.

Today was going to be all about comfort after that nightmare.

Luckily, Jerri was in town today. Unless the robbery had tied her up. Nama refocused on the news, listening for any complications. The smash and grab of a jewelry store in the city didn't seem like a big thing for Jerri and concluded with the perpetrators behind bars until their remastering.

Yeah, Jerri should still be coming to stay with her dad this weekend. Which meant Nama would be spending much of the weekend out of the house anyway. Relief rushed across her shoulders in a cool wave, letting them drop back to a normal height. She didn't want to dwell too much on a nightmare. Especially one that took place in her own house. Some time away would be perfect to even out.

Aenica took her time in the shower that morning, only coming down in a bathrobe and hair towel once Nama had finished cooking. With a smile and thanks, she took a plate and they ate in habitual silence. Neither of them talked much in the mornings.

Nama snuck glances at her mom through the meal, feeling something loosen in her chest with each extra check. The morning's dream felt less real as she dropped her dishes into the sink for later.

"I'm heading out," she grabbed her purse from a hook near the door, looking back one more time at her mom.

"Hanging out with Jerri?" Aenica guessed correctly, garnering a nod from Nama. Her lips twitched into a knowing smile as she asked, "Planning on telling her any time soon?"

"Bye." Nama slammed the door on Aenica's giggle, adjusting the strap of her purse with a sigh. Her mom was clearly fine and her nightmare was, while disturbing, not something she should worry about.

Probably.

She'd just get Jerri's opinion and move on. No problem.

After all, if it was something magical, Stardust and the Witches would be the ones to figure it out.

And if it wasn't? She'd let Nama know that with minimal teasing, unlike, say, Aenica. Sure, Nama sometimes deserved a little teasing, like for some of her bad habits that had earned her the nickname-

"Hey Sticky Fingers, did you lift my bracelet yesterday?" Hlafa the baker approached, holding her empty wrist with some worry. Her bakery was open behind her, shutters thrown wide to let the smell of fresh bread fill the street. Her warm brown eyes held a minor panic that had Nama slowing her pace.

"I don't think so," Nama answered honestly, checking her purse as she did. No bracelets, though it seemed she'd picked up a ring at some point. "No, I don't have it. Which bracelet was it?"

"My marriage band," Hlafa groaned, closing her eyes and pushing her face into her hands. Nama made a wordless noise of sympathy as she continued, "I was really hoping you nicked it when I sold you that flour. Should've known you weren't behind it, though."

"I wouldn't have taken that," Nama agreed, putting a hand on the woman's broad shoulder and glancing at the time on her phone. Eight AM. Huh. While she was glad to be able to read the time now that she was awake, she'd have thought it'd be later in the day. Well, all that meant was that she had time before meeting Jerri. "Let me help you look for it. I know all the places lost things end up."

"Thanks," Hlafa stood with renewed determination. "Wist! Man the counter!"

A poof of green curls appeared behind the counter before Wist cranked the lever on his wheelchair and rose into full visibility. Hlafa's son had lost the use of his legs and an eye to a manticore, before the Witches started visiting Burgtun. Now they kept the threat of magical creatures at an all time low and Wist had decided to take over his mother's shop someday - as long as the Witches kept coming around. He always said the second they retired or left, he was moving to a city fancy enough for turrets. Nama didn't blame him.

"Aye-aye, captain," he pounded his chest jokingly, not questioning the situation. Either he knew his mother's bracelet was missing or the simple fact that she was running off with Nama was explanation enough.

Everything in town had a kind of pattern if you lived there long enough, even the lost things. Nama just had a knack for noticing them. Some stuff showed up in the skitter den just in the woods, some got washed down to the dam and piled up on the shore, others ended up in birds' nests in town, shoved in the corners between roof and chimney.

Hlafa was no stranger to hard work; together, they made short work of the nests in town before moving on to the dam and a few less frequent spots along the way. The townsfolk were out and about en masse, crowding the black pavement and forcing any outsider to park their car and wait for midday or go around the town. Here, the streets belonged to the people; cars were for long distance travel. It helped that the weather was typically balmy year round.

Even now, nearing midwinter, the sun glazed over the river as Hlafa dropkicked a rubber duck back toward the stream in frustration.

"Oh, come on," Nama plucked it from the air, spinning with the momentum before she tucked it into her purse. "Someone might miss that."

"You've already put three keychains and a flashlight in there," Hlafa pointed out, sitting heavily on a log with shoulders hunched in amidst the swaying reeds. "We're not going to find it, are we?"

"Well, there's still one last place to check," Nama hedged uncertainly. Usually the skitter den was a last resort; things only ended up there when they had a lot of tourists in town. Probably thanks to the increased foot traffic moving things along. She sat gingerly beside Hlafa. The log was damp from proximity to the river and had things growing on it. Let it never be said Nama was an outdoorsy type. She shuddered, but continued gamely, hands hovering slightly over the bark, "The skitter den collects shiny things every once in a while. I can go scout it out while you get back to Wist."

"The skitter den?" Hlafa rubbed at an arm, shuffling her feet to point her toes inward, "Those things give me the heebie jeebies."

"Yeah, they're freaky, alright," Nama agreed, wiggling her fingers wide before leaping up on the log in a mock heroic pose. "So you better leave it to me. These Sticky Fingers can slip even the most well-guarded treasure right out from under a dragon's nose."

Hlafa laughed uneasily, fingers knitting together, "You sure, Nama? I don't want Aenica coming after me, asking where you were last seen if you disappear."

"I'll be fine," Nama hopped down from the log, abandoning the theatrics. "Don't worry about it. If your marriage band's there, I'll get it back to you before noon, easy."

It had to be before noon; that's when she was meant to see Jerri.

With a huff, Hlafa stood and wiped her hands of the dilemma, "If you're not handing me my bracelet at noon, I'm calling your mama."

"Fair enough." Twisting her toe against the earth to make a small divot, Nama prepared herself for a real sprint. The sun was creeping up in the sky and she needed to make good time. "See you later, Hlafa!"

She darted away from the quiet lap of waves and croaking frogs to Hlafa's insistent, "At noon!"

Turning and hopping awkwardly to keep her momentum, Nama shot off a quick salute and booked it. The path from the river to the woods was one she'd travelled a million times. Expertly, she skipped over surfaced roots and the edges of old logs, toppled and forgotten where they lie. Each stone was as familiar as the back of her hand. That's what it was like living in the same small town her whole life, she guessed.

She did want to travel someday, but... she knew she'd always come home. It was her place to be. The feeling was hard to explain, but when she was dancing through the crowded streets or running down the dirt trails, her chest was light and full at once, as if filled with helium and fit to burst. Seeing the villagers talk and help one another in the market while Burgtun grew ever more prosperous with the sudden tourism boom made her want to giggle with glee. The same way the kitchen was her safety, the town was her joy.

Even the creepy bits.

Most of the forest was vivid and bursting with life. Birds flashed between the trees. Iridescent spiders hung on nearly invisible shimmers of webs like soap bubbles on a string. Squirrels and fairies chattered at one another in a cheerful cacophony. Not so near the skitters' den. Here, the shadows lengthened and tendrils of steel twisted beneath the dirt, occasionally arcing up into a tree, piercing and entwined at once so the sap dried in droplets on the edges of the metal. All signs she was close.

A lot of the more dangerous magical creatures had been driven deeper into the wilds by Stardust and the Witches, among other magical teams that visited the town less often. The skitters were somehow beneath their notice. Nama kept meaning to bring them up to Jerri, but... They didn't really do any harm. So why bother? And they took good care of whatever nonsense ended up in their den. Losian, Farmer Bur's kid, got dreadfully turned around in the forest once and the skitters had held onto him until Nama ventured in to retrieve him. They'd even given him some of the toys that had been forgotten with them years ago to keep him entertained. Nama thought maybe that was less kindness and more due to Losian being the type of kid to tear down their weavings if left unoccupied.

Either way, Losian had been no worse for the wear and had been safe from any creatures or curses that might have snuck through the Witches' protections.

Skitters were creepy, sure, but Nama thought they were more than they appeared.

A curving mess of metal vines, twisted over on itself to make a sloppy honeycomb structure, sprawled ahead of her, fog trickling off the lake beyond to paint the scene in dreary shades of grey. Within, the shadows moved. Skitters pulled their limbs painstakingly free of the shadow and fog. Twitching up to their three feet to take in the intruder, some cocked triangular pointed heads at her from atop long elegant necks. Others, already three-dimensional, continued weaving the fog out of the air with two thin arms and draping the ethereal fabric over their nest in a seemingly endless task, as the covering faded slowly away wherever they weren't at work.

"Hello," Nama waved awkwardly. "Just here to get a bracelet and I'll be right out of your hair. Face." Feeling her cheeks heat with a blush, Nama grasped the correct word choice for the featureless creatures with haste, "Uh, business, I'll be out of your business."

As always, there was no response. Once they'd spotted her, a few of the gathered creatures had already begun cramming themselves back into shadow with painful cracks and slurps. Others stood guard, or so Nama assumed. They tended to watch her as she went about her searches, anyway. One in particular would watch from on high- in fact, there he was now.

This skitter was enormous; there was no sign of gender among skitters, but the regal way he inclined his head to her each time they met reminded her of a king. So she addressed him accordingly.

"Well met, your majesty!" she called up to the stoic skitter topping the metal den. He nodded down to her, following her progress slowly from above.

Greetings done, she ducked into the den, carefully avoiding the shadows that moved. Last time she'd stepped on one, her foot had sunk in to her ankle before she could yank herself back out. Skitters didn't interact with physical matter the same way she did and she didn't want to see what would happen if she was completely submerged in one. Inside, the walls gleamed dimly with reflected light from the entrance, fading as she drove deeper in her quest. Decaying objects dotted her path. A wooden sword overcome with fungus and sized for a child sprouted from the ceiling. Stained teacups, cracked and unusable, melted into the walls, along with other odds and ends of life in town. Here, some of the skitters that were fully formed occupied themselves with staring at a particular object. Cuppy, for example, was always near the tea set. The Librarian lingered by a water-ruined book. Others only lingered a moment and were gone as her gaze fell upon them. In the dark of their den, transition from shadow to physical form was nearly instant. And some of them were shy.

Nama assumed they were shy, anyway. Either that or so disgusted by the human intruder with her clonky brown boots and freckly tanned face that they had no recourse but to leave upon seeing her.

Crouching down near a swaying shadow, Nama joked aloud, "Or maybe my sheer glory scares you off, huh?"

They did not laugh.

They never did, though. Nama easily popped back up to her feet, continuing her casual spelunking adventure with a musing, "If I were a three-legged shadow creature without a face, where would I put a modern bracelet?"

Asking wouldn't get her anywhere, she could only put in the elbow grease and look. Sighing didn't help either, but she couldn't help that.

It wasn't like she had magic spells that would point her in the right direction or anything. Maybe she should've met with Jerri first. No use sitting around with her good friend What-If, however. Nama set off around another twist in the den, footsteps echoing with a tinny edge back to her. It was the only sound she could hear, as the skitters didn't exactly make noise. The echoes began to chime as she searched deeper. Each chime echoing back at a different rhythm brought about a strange sort of melody that was growing louder.

Nama stopped walking.

The music box continued. All around her, it chimed in that same tune from her nightmare. And from the shadows between the steel strands of the den, came the man's soft voice,

"Don't you sleep with monsters near.

Come quiet dark; nothing's to fear

for you.

Nothing for you."

The song hit her with a dizzying force that brought her to her knees, hands on her head. Before she could register where she had fallen, she was up to her waist in shadow. Scrabbling at the smooth walls, she tried to pull herself free, but couldn't find a grip. She felt a coolness ease up to her chest and saw more of herself sunk in, lost to the skitter beneath her. Her breathing was harsh and loud in the den as the music box twanged and chimed around her. She couldn't feel her stomach but her hands were cold with fear. Head spinning, she realized she might actually die in here if she didn't get it together.

The shadows crept to her neck, taking her shoulders as well. But her arms were still free, held above the skitter and- and there! Low on the wall was a metal band. Bronzed and new, it stood blatantly out against the unnaturally smooth steel. Nama scrabbled for it. If she could pull herself out, she'd just grab this bracelet and run like a bat out of hell. As her fingers brushed the bronze, a shadow leg speared downward. The tip impaled her hand, inches from the bracelet.

Fighting a scream, she looked up at it. Heart stuttering, she recognized the large one, the king skitter she'd thought was almost a friend.

"Why are you doing this?"

He stared down at her blankly as always and inclined his head.

She never should have kept coming here. She should have told the Witches about them. Spooky shadow creatures that can't speak aren't misunderstood, sometimes! Sometimes they're just monsters!

Nama stilled the screaming in her heart; she still had one more trick up her sleeve. Namely, a hand. She had another hand. Nama lunged for the bracelet again, intending to grip it and yank herself free to run.

Her fingers closed on the cool metal.

And she was fine.

Nama looked down and turned in a circle in the suddenly empty hall of the den in which she stood, unharmed. Sliding the bracelet onto a wrist for safekeeping, she brought her hand up, flexed the fingers and touched the palm, hale and whole.

The music was gone.

Alright. That was fine. She was fine.

Nama spied the king skitter tapping silently across a thin beam of steel above her. When he cottoned on to her gaze, he nodded slowly.

She couldn't help her flinch back.

That's it. Nama was leaving and not coming back. She didn't care who lost what in the next few months. Skitters and her? On break. Finished. Done.

A chill had settled in her bones that had nothing to do with the metal den as she burst out into the dim sunlight. Returning Hlafa's bracelet would come first and then she was going straight to Jerri to ask her what the hell kind of magic nonsense had made its way into town again. Because this wasn't a nightmare. Nama had been painfully awake.

No, most likely, Nama or the town had been cursed.

Luckily, she had an expert on hand for just this sort of situation.

First, the bracelet. Second, the bastard magic trying to terrify her for no particular reason. Yeah, sounds about right.

Nama always loved a good checklist.