A Dance with Shadows

CHAPTER 1

Fierce wind whipped through Ember’s hair as she walked tentatively along the rocky cliff side, her arms outstretched to steady herself. She swayed as she peered over the side of the cliff, staring with gleaming eyes into the endless drop just as she had done many times. The fall she would make once more.

She tilted her face up to the sun, pinching her eyes shut as it warmed her skin and reddened her cheeks. Salt mixed into the air from the waters below, crinkling her nose with every intake of breath. She took several deep breaths, filling her lungs with as much as they could hold, calming the anxiety creeping up her throat.

At another time, those few moments before the drop had been relaxing. She had once relished in every delicious second, soaking in the sun’s warmth, the fresh air; the roar of waves beneath her the only sound. Birds circled overhead, swooping and diving, daring her to jump—to fly along the wind’s current with them. She opened her outstretched hands, stretching out each finger deliberately into the breeze streaming around her. She savored every moment, holding it close, knowing it would soon end.

Fear crept up her neck as the shadows began taking form, lurking behind her, skirting along the forest’s edge. They always stayed in her peripheral; just far enough out of sight—enough to make her believe she was insane.

Although she hadn’t always seen the dark, harrowing figures, she could always feel them. The shadows moved with her, always keeping pace no matter how frantic her steps became. Their glowing red eyes calculating her every move, never allowing her to escape, but never coming quite close enough to touch. Snaking through the forest’s trees, no sound to announce their arrival. Their sinister gazes stalking her as she walked along the cliff side, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. The closer they crept, the heavier paranoia leaned into her chest, pressing against her mind like needles. The air buzzed with nervous tension as the shadow creatures grew nearer, bringing with them a heavy sense of looming, quiet dread—the calm before the storm.

Only watching; almost listening.

Waiting.

A reminder she was never alone.

The salty air became cooler, pricking at her skin as she wrapped into her sweater tighter, attempting to shield herself from the sudden, frigid bite. She chewed on her bottom lip, focusing on the waves crashing and roaring below her until it was the only sound. She toed closer to the edge, pieces of rocky earth tumbling to the waters below. She took a moment to marvel as the waves strengthened with each swell and crash, admiring the beauty in the deep, dark sentinel of the unknown.

She soon felt the familiar burning of the shadow’s eyes boring into her back; they were coming closer—too close. Her heart raced as she dug her nails into her palms, forcing herself to calm. Breathe, don’t look back now, she thought as she looked up at the pale lilac sky above, bidding it farewell. She took in every ounce of detail that she could, wishing she could stay a little while longer, but she knew she couldn’t allow the shadows to close in. So with one last sharp intake of breath, she leaped forward from the cliff.

Air rushed around her as she plunged down in a blur, violently snagging at her clothes and lashing at her skin. The rush of blood pounded through her ears, rising louder over the sound of the crashing waves beneath her. Tears stung her eyes, her mouth painfully dry as the fall seemed to last forever.

The waves grew taller, surging violently, and opened its mouth wide to consume her whole. The wind screamed into her ears until all she could hear was a single, steady ring. Ember forced her eyes open, seeing only a black, empty void—there was no landing.

There never was.

CHAPTER 2

Without opening her eyes, Ember already knew where she was. For a serene moment, she inhaled the familiar scent of her room, listening to the soft whirring of her fan, the faint chirps outside her window a sweet song of her return.

Slowly, she opened her eyes to the orange morning glow pouring through her window and spilling across her bed. Her large, white cat, Snow, curled beside her, purring peacefully—basking in the sun’s rays. She stretched her weary muscles under the heavy duvet, pulling the sheets closer around her, savoring the lingering warmth from the night. As she snuggled into her pillows, she replayed the dream in her head, grasping onto the most important details to scribble into her dream journal.

•••

Well before this night, she always dreamt vividly, all beginning when she was a little girl. When she was eight, she dreamt of walking through a luscious green field with soft feather reeds that came up to her waist. Little pixies with glittering golden wings would flutter alongside her and through the tall grass, darting up and over the trees—illuminating the entire field like fireflies.

Night after night, she would return to the same dream world—dreaming it to be even better than the night before. She imagined there was a forest of tall birch trees where she would roam, unafraid of becoming lost. The sun would cast beams of light through the tall canvas of leaves, casting small spotlights on the forest floor. Between the trees, she would catch glimpses of slender, silver deer grazing; bluebirds skimming overhead, swooping through the trees. Her world became so warm—illuminating—she could almost swear it was real.

As she grew older, she learned she could control her dream completely—to shape the landscape as she wished, pushing it as far out as her eye could see. She lifted fields of wildflowers into bloom, a sea of every color imaginable with an aroma sweeter than anything she had ever experienced. She painted the sky a pale lilac, pulling in wispy magenta clouds—even changing the weather by simply closing her eyes and imagining the clouds rolling, gradually darkening and rumbling until cool droplets of water pattered down around her, soaking into her hair and clothes.

She could call the pixies to her, although she did not know their names—she didn’t need to. It was as though they already knew her—every thought, hope, and wish. Her dream world knew her just as well as she knew it, and together they worked as one. As she bounded through her fields of flowers, barefoot and full of wild energy, the pixies darted around her. Together, they dashed alongside the deer, over the lush green hills, and ran unafraid into the dense, magical forest.

When she reached the center, she created a clearing where she then laid a small, glimmering pond. Inside, she dreamt of elegant water sprites with small, fairy-like faces—cheeks and noses pink and pinched. She would lay on her belly in the soft grass, watching the sparkling pond for hours, dipping her fingers and toes in the water as the sprites darted around like guppies. The sprites were happy to be jumping across the lily pads, spritzing water at one another, and she was happy to be in their company, watching their enchanting play.

Overhead, she imagined the bluebirds to be even larger than before—larger than anything that had existed—soaring over the tops of the trees with a massive wingspan. She would spend nights lazing on her back, stretched out in her field of flowers as she watched the gargantuan birds gliding through the sky. Swooping and diving, cawing proudly to one another with puffed chests; she longed to be in the air, soaring through the clouds as they did, without a worry in the world.

And so she did.

With new determination, she had returned to her dream world, excitedly running through the wildflowers—tirelessly keeping pace far below her soaring companions. With a full heart void of fear, little Ember leaped into the air, arms outstretched, eyes squeezed shut. She imagined herself soaring up into the sky, propelling herself through the clouds.

Her heart fluttered as she opened her eyes—she was gliding over her wispy, magenta clouds, watching as her dream world passed beneath her. She whooped and cawed aloud with her birds, her young heart soaring even higher than herself. She laughed endlessly, diving down to glide along the treetops with her beautiful birds, brushing their wingtips softly with her small fingertips.

The world she had created quickly became more vast; the more she could see, the more wild her inspiration became. In the air, she would expand and deepen her forest, raise more hills and flowers—anything the bounds of her imagination could touch, she could create.

In her dream, she felt safe; in control. She felt she could do anything—be anything—her heart desired. Every night, she felt as though hours—even days—would pass in her dreamscape; though every time she awoke, she would find only a single night had passed. It was her own small slice of serenity, and she nearly wished it would never end… that she would stay the courageous girl she’d become in her dream.

When Ember turned sixteen, she had full control of her world. It no longer took much thought to create new things. It was almost without thought, something so entirely natural. Her chest would swell with confidence, as though her veins were on fire—urging her to continue creating this wonderful world. To master it completely and rule it as her very own. With newfound bravery surging through her veins, she was daring for adventure—something dangerous.

She raised her cliffs as high as she could, nearly mountains. At the base of the cliffs, she placed a dark, wide sea. The waves rolled steadily, glimmering deep violet far below the bright sky. She sat, legs dangling from the side of the cliff as she pulled the waters harder, beckoning them to crash violently.

She stood then, a smile spreading over her face, fingers trembling as she drew closer to the crumbling edge. She peered over the side; the drop seeming to deepen further—her head spun with vertigo. She clenched her teeth, heart pounding raggedly against her ribcage. Goosebumps raised over her skin as she took a small breath in and leaped forward off the cliff.

She screamed as she plummeted down violently. Her arms whipped out wildly, fingers searching desperately for something—anything—to cling to but were met only with the razor-sharp whips of air. She spun, arms flailing and legs kicking, voice hoarse and raw from screaming. No thoughts occupied her mind—there was only fear and adrenaline. Feeling leaden, she could now see the waters below her approaching faster, more menacing than she had hoped. Almost in response, a wave lifted, stretching open to create a space to engulf her—as deep and horrifying as a black hole. Only inches from the water now, she let out one final, harrowing scream.

She shot up in bed, sweating and whimpering softly against ragged breaths. Her hair stuck to her forehead and neck in a sheen of sweat. She brought a trembling hand up to her chest and gulped in air, looking around her room. It was a jarringly different way to wake up than she was used to. She drew her legs up to her chest, laughing softly to herself. She had done it, something reckless—crazy; something she wouldn’t ever dare try in her waking life. Eventually, it would become customary, almost ritualistic.

Before, her dream would just end. Often she would return from her dream to find herself wandering around her small flat, still starry-eyed and hazy from the night. Her dream felt as real as anything in her waking life, which left her struggling to realize when she was awake once more. The rush of adrenaline from the cliffs became her favorite way to wake up; the clear break between her subconscious and her waking state. It became a portal from one world to the next.

A reminder that in her world, she could be fearless.

CHAPTER 3

Ember rolled out of bed, leaving the comforting warmth behind. Slipping her feet into her puffy white slippers, she grabbed her dream journal from the nightstand and tucked it safely under her arm. She’d created the journal to be the lifeline to her dream while she was awake. Though she always returned to her world, she feared that one day she might forget, or would begin having an entirely different dream—unable to return to hers. While such a thing never happened, keeping the journal was at least a steady comfort.

She padded into the small kitchenette to see her flatmate, Tana, flipping through the pages of a magazine, a steaming mug of coffee in her hand. Jack-o'-lantern Halloween decorations hung in the large bay windows, smiling a ‘good morning’ with squared teeth. The entire flat was an explosion of orange pumpkins, fluffy pretend spider webs, witches, and skeletons. The air was crisp, with the faintest hint of cinnamon. It was Halloween morning, and despite the nightmares, she insisted on enjoying it.

Tana turned, smiling, Good morning, sleepyhead. Her voice was smooth, and her deep, warm eyes clear of sleep. She was always an early riser, and was often found sitting cross-legged on their kitchen bench, painting her newest master piece in the wee hours of the morning. The coffee just finished, if you’d like a cup.

"That’s an understatement, I’d love one. Or two." She laid her dream journal on the kitchen table before turning to the coffeepot, the smell beckoning her forward.

Or five, or twelve. Tana laughed breezily, Seriously Em, it’s a wonder how you’re ever sleepy.

Her lips spread into a smile as she turned back to the table and set down her coffee, tentatively opening her dream journal. She could feel Tana’s eyes follow her and already knew the questions that sat patiently behind Tana’s lips.

How’d you sleep? Anything new in Dream Land? Tana asked, sipping away at her mug. Her voice was quiet, cautious. Although she hated to relay the details, Tana knew things had changed in Ember’s dream, and often prodded to know what exactly was leaving her tired and distant.

Same old, still sleepy. Ember brought the pumpkin-shaped mug up to her lips, relishing the warmth. Her eyes flicked up to her flatmate, who didn’t look pleased with such a curt response. "Unfortunately, there isn’t much to report. Ember continued, The nightmares still drain the life out of me. I just want to enjoy today."

"Still? Even after so much time? We’ve got to get you out and about, doll. This isn’t healthy. I don’t see how you’re going to enjoy anything with such little rest." Tana’s brows knit together, her arms crossing. Although her face was stern, it didn’t meet her eyes. Tana had always been that way—fierce, but soft. Carrying warmth and joy with her wherever she went, as if it was sewn into her very skin.

When she moved overseas to London to attend college, Tana had been assigned as her English flatmate. As a local, she could assist Ember with anything she’d possibly need to live out her college years in a new country… and to prevent her from making a complete fool of herself in the process. The first day she walked through the door of their flat to see Tana’s beaming smile and paint splattered clothes, she knew it wouldn’t be long before they were close.

Tell me about it. She rolled out her shoulders, tucking her feet beneath her. "I just can’t think of what could be causing them. I’ve tried everything, and nothing seems to work. I even dropped all but core classes, and the nightmares still come back. Short of dropping uni all together, I’m not sure what else I can do to let up the stress." A silence hung between them for a moment, and Ember looked out the window to the tall trees waving in the breeze. It was a beautiful sea of orange, red, and gold. She just wanted to forget the nightmares. To forget the creatures that stalked through her mind.

Tana’s lips pulled to the side, considering the trouble. Her curly hair was piled up onto her head in a knot, streaked with shades of purple, and speared with a long paint brush. Her long, bronze fingers tapped the mahogany table between them.

You may not like this, but what if you just cut back on the caffeine…?

Ew, Tana! Ember gasped, placing her hand over her heart in shock, and the two girls burst with laughter, filling the quiet flat.

Good, good, I didn’t like that plan either. Tana giggled before returning her lips to her mug, shivering in playful distaste, "That would be atrocious."

She sighed, feeling some weight of the night melt off her shoulders. Tana always had a way of opening her up, even from the day they met. She’d found Ember’s dream world fascinating, and it soon became their morning ritual to pick it apart over morning coffee. Now that her dream was becoming less of the haven it once was, Tana’s light teasing was always welcomed.

As the girls chatted away, getting lost in the retelling of dreams, she opened her dream journal—which was now tearing at the seams from years of use - and scrawled in the details of last night’s dream.

She smiled as she wrote in the new things she’d created: a tower made of white stone, fresh green ivy coiling up the sides. It had been her hope of hiding away from the lurking shadows, driving them back to the outer reaches of her dream. It was well lit, warm, and full of books. Plush cushions lining the top floor, where she could sprawl out and read as long as she’d like. Every detail made her heart soar.

Though, her smile faltered. While it was one of her favorite creations, it hadn’t been as safe as she thought it’d be. Instead of driving the shadows away, they only slinked up the walls, peering in through the small windows, threatening to seep through the cracks. It seemed wherever she went, they would always follow. The very thought sent the ghost of a headache crawling under her scalp.

The sun was now shining through the kitchen window, warming the chilly room slowly. Mornings were always simultaneously her favorite and least favorite time of day. She loved the stillness they brought to her life. The sleepiness of the city before it became bustling and chaotic—though it also meant she was no longer dreaming and had to resume the stress of daily life.

Tell me again, Em… what do these nightmares do?

"They don’t really do much of anything. She replied, keeping her eyes cast down onto her journal, sketching away. It always pained her to discuss the details of her nightmares, since she felt there wasn’t much to discuss. She only felt like a child, frightened by harmless shadows. The real issue is how they make me feel. It’s a sense of dread I’ve never felt before, not while awake, anyway. It feels like my soul is slipping away from me."

She mindlessly scribbled in her journal until the images of the lurking shadows flickered through her memory, causing her temples to ache. Sighing, she put down her pen to rub her palms into her eyes, breathing slowly through her nose.

The shadows that plagued her dream hadn’t always been there, but had crept in slowly over a long period of time, steadily giving her migraines as they multiplied. With sinking reluctance, Ember knew she was creeping up on the one-year anniversary of the invasion. When they first appeared, she thought it may have been her deer casting an odd shadow through the trees—a trick of the mind, playing with light and shadow—but then they darkened, twisting and morphing into unnatural shapes.

First, she tried to imagine them being sucked down into the ground, far away from her. When that didn’t work, she knew immediately something was wrong. She was always in control over every element, and these shouldn’t have been any different. It was obvious that she didn’t create them - but then, who did?

She kept her distance at first, turning away to ignore them—as though maybe if she didn’t think about them, they’d cease to exist. But their presence grew and became so substantial she could feel them long before she ever saw them. She quickly grew frustrated, always peering over her shoulder to see a skittering black shadow move behind the trees.

Ember drew long sips from her cup, sketching the shadow creatures into her journal with an aggravated sigh. They were amorphous from what she could tell; having no particular shape or structure. The only defining features were their eyes and mouths.

It began with a single set of piercing red eyes that sent horror plummeting into her chest. They didn’t look like human eyes, or really like anything she’d ever seen before. They were round—beady—and burned like smoldering cinders. The mouth formed directly beneath the eyes, darker than the shadow itself; opening wide and gaping—growing when she would wander too close, as if in hopes to consume her. She dared to look directly at them only once, and just the image had been enough to send sharp pains through her head.

Night after night, her frustration and fear grew. Nothing was getting rid of them, and worst of all, it robbed her of the calm she had once felt. It had become so intense, she could feel their watchful gaze as soon as she opened her eyes within her dream realm, immediately sinking into the feeling of unease. They were always there, always waiting.

One night, she decided she must take a stand and claim what was hers. They were not welcome in her world, and thus, she could banish them. She gritted her teeth and walked towards them, careful to keep her gaze low, too enveloped in the fear to look at them directly. As she drew closer than she ever had, a dull ache radiated through her temples. She pushed on tentatively, each step closer, intensifying the ache until it was a sharp pain. Edging closer until the pain grew so severe, she feared her vision would go black. Her chest tightened and felt heavy, as if the sight of them would cause her lungs to collapse. An icy chill coursed through her veins, a feeling of ice crystals replacing each blood cell within her.

Now, she never dared get that close.

Over time, the shadows multiplied despite her attempt to get rid of them. No matter where she went in her dream, they were there, staring at her from within the depths of the trees, slowly creeping forward. The shadows breathed and hissed, never letting her forget their presence. Not even the beautiful tower, her most recent creation, could protect her from the shadows that roamed the grounds.

She blinked out of the thought, bringing her awareness back into her small kitchenette. Snow emerged sleepily in the doorway, stretching each leg out diligently before hopping up on the bench seat. She let the soft beast climb into her lap as she nursed the rest of her morning coffee, savoring each sip. Tana looked over at her with warm eyes, sharing the silence for a moment as the golden light of the morning filled the room.

Don’t be too hard on yourself, doll. I’m sure it’s just stress. It’ll pass once classes are over. Take some time to rest, all will be well soon. Tana smiled, picking up their empty mugs as she stood up from the table.

You’re right, I think I’ll do that. Ember replied with a smile. While she held little faith something so simple would be enough to bring her dream back to the way it was, Tana’s warm voice alone was enough to soothe the tightness in her chest.

Her phone buzzed from where it sat charging on the kitchen counter, flashing an alert across the screen. She stood, Snow leaping out of her lap, and grabbed the phone from its charging pad. The alert read: 9:00 AM Class - Room 1314. Tana watched as Ember cleared the notification, spending a moment to scroll through her schedule.

"Maybe take a few days off? Tana breathed as she padded over to Ember, wrapping her into a warm hug. Truly, it’ll be okay. We’ll grab coffee at lunch, alright? I better be off soon, myself. Take care of yourself in the meantime, will you, Em?" With one last squeeze and meaningful smile, Tana strode out of the room and disappeared into the hall. Ember beamed at her friend, grateful for the reassurance before braving the day.

She took a deep breath and rolled out her shoulders. She knew taking the day to lounge around would only lead to brooding, so instead she grabbed two Advil and swallowed them down bitterly with a glass of water. She closed her eyes for a moment to still the dull ache in her head. The headaches weren’t new; they began when the shadow creatures invaded her dream world, always bringing a wave of pain as they emerged. In the beginning, she would awaken without the pain, leaving the headache in her dream—but now, it seemed her head was always pounding. A constant reminder of what always awaited her return.

•••

Ember pulled on a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a long black coat. She stood in front of the mirror above her dresser, pushing her shoulder-length, silver-dyed hair behind her ears. She groaned at her reflection upon seeing the dark circles under her pale green eyes—a sharp, unsettling contrast. Evidence that her sleep hadn’t been restful for a very long time.

After pulling on her boots, she shoved her dream journal into her bag, along with her laptop and textbooks, and headed out the door. With a brave face, she stepped out onto the sidewalk, pulling her coat in a bit tighter as a cold rush of air bit through her clothes. She had loved autumn once; enjoying the cool air—the leaves changing from lush greens to rich golds, oranges, and reds.

Now, the cold reminded her of the eerie shadows that plagued her every night—the way the air within her dream once warmed her skin, now held a chill that snaked down her spine with relentless, icy fingers. She supposed someday she’d figure out how to free her mind from the nightmares, but for now, it was back to reality.

CHAPTER 4

The day passed in a blur. Ember’s mind was too clouded for her to focus on any of her classes, most of which she spent staring into a blank notebook. The voices of her professors muffled by the ache in her temples, her peers giving her sideways glances. On her walk to the campus, she had felt nothing but a dull headache. Though by the time she arrived, she felt a thickness unlike anything she’d ever felt before. A weight in her mind that spread through her body like lead. The throbbing in her temples only increased with every passing second. The ticking of the clock within the lecture hall that had once gone unnoticed, now pounded in tandem. A harmony that sung a song of ruthless discontent. A melody proclaiming something was now horribly wrong.

She couldn’t shake the image of shadows lurking through her mind. They seemed to creep out of her mind, and into the room itself. She blinked, rubbing her eyes. The corners of the room seemed to darken, though the lights did not dim. Deep shadows cast throughout the hall, spreading further than what was usual. Her stomach turned, and it wasn’t long before she had enough. She shoved her books into her bag and slipped out of the back of the hall without so much as a word, and made her way to the library. It was a place where she could stay out of sight, and away from the scrutinizing glances. Where she could slip through the aisles of tomes and lose herself, even if only for a moment. To just stop and breathe and gather her thoughts. She already felt foolish; she didn’t need the upturning of noses to confirm her fears.

•••

She let out a long sigh as she pushed open the door, breathing in the smell of books, and began wading through the aisles of the University’s library. It had also become a place of serenity for her, relishing the quiet as she soaked in the magic that lingered through the air. She would sit in the deep-seated chairs and thumb through various books, lazing like a fat, happy cat for hours. Occasionally, she would sit at the large mahogany tables and scribble in her dream journal, basking in dust motes beaming in through the old windows with the midday sun, listening to the ruffling of pages and scrawling of pens. Now, it didn’t seem at all what it used to be.

Turning into the corridor of shelves, dread once more filled her gut. The aisles seemed darker than they had been, shadows thickening the rows of books, lapping up every inch of what was warm light, leaving the room dull and muted. It was eerily quiet and held no trace of the beloved magic, or safety. Something so sacred now felt undoubtedly malevolent.

As she turned to head toward her favorite sitting spot, her stomach quickly jumped into a painful knot around her heart. A red-eyed shadow darted from one bookshelf to another, red eyes burning. She blinked, shaking her head.

"No, they’re not real, she said under her breath with sharp disbelief, Relax, it’s just the stress."

She carried on, heart beating a little faster as she stepped tentatively forward, scanning the aisles. Suddenly, another pair of red eyes opened from the edge of the darkness. She suppressed a yelp, gritting her teeth together. She whipped around, stepping out of the aisle and scanning the library. With squinted eyes, she walked deeper into the library. Surely this was just a Halloween trick, and she was the unsuspecting victim.

Ha-ha, hilarious, she said, calming her voice and peering in-between the aisles. A wave of cold air rushed behind her, sending her spinning around to catch another shadow figure darting between aisles across the room. She felt as though a million eyes were boring into her, hot and vicious.

Who’s here? She spoke into the quiet library, the sound carrying along the cold, stone floor. The only answer was an eerie echo of her own voice. Just as quickly as the figure appeared, it was gone. A fleeting image that trailed up her spine with frosted fingertips. She shuddered, fear clinging to her throat as she pushed her way back to the entrance.

She walked back out into the quiet school hall, no longer feeling safe within the old oaken walls. Weariness wrapped around her then, threatening to pull her to the ground. She wanted coffee, rest, and light. As she walked through the school, shadows continued pulling up from the darkness wherever she went. Slipping and slithering through the darkened stairwells, dipping down behind foggy windows. Red eyes blinking into her peripheral, only to disappear the very next moment. The ache in her temples pulsed as she pushed through the entrance doors, reminding her she needed to do something, but what? She stopped for a moment, taking