Amazonia - Secrets of the Shadowlands

I’d always wondered about the Shadowlands, and why the Shadow creatures who prowled it were so bent on killing anyone who entered. But now I was beginning to understand.

I was holding onto the bony ridges underneath Wind Dancer’s soft feathers as we traveled across a great expanse of rolling hills and lush vegetation, the sky the deepest blue I’d ever known, with neither clouds or sun to be seen. The air felt crisp, but not cold, my body, still wearing the Artifact armor I’d had on when I died, neither hungry or thirsty. Nor did I need to use the privy, even though we had been flying for what must have been hours.

My muscles and hands should've been fatigued from riding for so long. Yet, they were not. I wasn't not sad at losing my life, nor angry for failing my mission; I wasn't even upset over losing the Rune sword and my Wardogs. At that moment I didn't feel anything except happiness at being exactly where I was.

Happiness. I don’t believe I’ve ever understood what happiness, true happiness, means. But now I do, and I’m never leaving the Shadowlands. Not if I can help it.

“Az,” Wind Dancer said as she glanced back, “are you doing alright back there?”

“Never better.” My insides gave a twinge, and I frowned. “Actually, I’m getting an odd feeling of hollowness, like my body’s starting to need something. Is that normal?”

“It is,” she replied, “and I know exactly what you need to to fix it. Hang on.” Wind Dancer banked, and we descended towards the top of a hill where a golden tree stood… except it only looked like a tree. As she landed on the grass a half-dozen horse lengths away, I could see it was golden smoke in the shape of a many branched tree.

Tendrils of golden mist floated in the air around it, and as one changed direction to move straight towards me, Wind Dancer said, “When the smoke gets close to you, go ahead and breathe it in. You’ll feel better at once.”

“Breathe it in?” Her narrow head nodded. I was a little dubious, but as the golden tendril got close to my face, I let go of the bony ridges, leaned forward, opened my mouth, and inhaled.

The tendril tasted like Etruscan red wine. No, better than wine; it was as if I drank ambrosia like the gods did in the old legends. I sucked in the entire tendril and the hollow feeling vanished, leaving the feeling of solidness in its wake. But I also felt something else. “Wind Dancer, I think I’m drunk!”

Before she could reply, I slid off her back and hit the ground. The earth yielded, the grass soft as goose down as it bounced me upward a little before settling. I laughed at myself, giddy as a child, and Wind Dancer was giggling as she turned around. “Apologies. I forgot what the first time being fed is like. Rest here for a few moments and it should pass.”

I nodded, drawing my armored knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. “I think that’s helping.”

“I thought it would.” Wind Dancer moved until she sat beside me and settled in, wrapping her wing around me in a protective way. “Since we will be here for a little bit, we can talk. I know you must be curious about the Shadowlands.”

“I’m also curious about you,” I replied. “I don’t mean to be rude or pry into your past, but I’d like to know how you got here.”

“The same way we all did,” she answered. “To understand my story, let me first tell you a secret. At the heart of the Shadowlands, there is the One Earth from which all the other Earths take their form, with the Shadowlands connecting each to all the others.”

I reared back. “One Earth… meaning my world isn’t real?”

Wind Dancer shook her head. “Oh, it is real, just not in the same way the One Earth is. For example, any Shadow-walker or powerful magic user can enter the Shadowlands and exit into any other world except the One Earth. There, the walls between it and the Shadowlands are so strong, that only the most insanely powerful mages can enter, and only at rare times when the walls between the worlds are at their weakest.”

I scratched my head. “How do you know this?”

“Because one of the Wise Women met a ghost in the Grey who did it. He had been so powerful that the being had almost god-like powers, but once he entered the One Earth, he became fragile and sickly. Then, when he finally managed to leave, the return trip destroyed his mortal body, leaving him a ghost. She helped him find his world and, still in his ghostly form, leave the Shadowlands, and in return he told her what the One Earth was like. There are no other races except humans, and they are so filled with magic that they cannot use it.”

I gave Wind Dancer a cross look. “You’re making that up.”

“I swear it is the truth. Think of it this way: you need… apologies, needed, water to stay alive when you were a living person, right?” I nod, and she says, “But what would happen if you were placed in a pool of water with no way to get out?”

“Since I can’t breathe water, I’d drown.”

“Because the water is all around you. Think of working magic in the same way. The humans there are literally drowning in magic, and thus cannot use any of it. A few of the Wise Women believe this is how the Shadowlands were created, though others have different ideas.”

I frowned. “You mean they don’t know?”

Wind Dancer gave a derisive snort. “Oh, they think they do. Some believe One Earth is alive but sleeping, and the Shadowlands are one, long dream. Others think the Grey was created out of the dreams of its humans, while others believe One Earth has a god or gods who created everything. If you are ever feeling mischievous, ask a group of them what created the Grey. You will have them squabbling in no time.”

I’d no intention of doing anything that could get me banished from here, and instead asked, “Where do the Wise Women live? Are there cities here?”

She shook her head. “The only cities are the ruins in the Grey that are built out of stone. We live wherever we want, traveling the Shadowlands and guarding it against the intruders.” She paused. “There is one building you need to be wary of. The Wise Women tell us that, lurking within the Shadowlands, is a structure known as the Tower of Time, and if you climb it, you can see the possible future for any of the Earths.”

“Have you ever climbed it?”

Wind Dancer shook her head again. “The Wise women say it is alive, in a sense, and moves wherever it wants to. They know how to call it, but since they no longer have any desire to see the worlds they originally came from, they leave it alone, as do the rest of us. I tell you this because thousands of your world’s years ago, a Shadow Knight like yourself entered there and never returned. No one knows why, and I do not want that to happen to you.”

I shook my head. “Me neither. I don’t want to ever leave this place.”

“Good. As for me, on my old Earth there are a race of beings who look exactly like I do, and they co-exist with other races, including humans like the ones on your old world… well, not exactly humans. Close enough to be related, though.”

“Did this race of almost humans have the same capacity for evil that my race does?”

Wind Dancer sighed. “In some ways, their capacity was far greater than your own. From the Wise Woman who sent me to find you, I learned the tale of your becoming a slave, who was eventually forced to become a Shadow Knight.” The tip of her other wing touched her breast. “I was corrupted in a similar manner.”

“Until you died like I did, and found yourself here.”

She nodded. “Where I discovered the truth. If you asked Ghostdog the Shadow-walker, he would tell you what we see is illusion, and the mortal’s view of the Shadowlands is real. Yet, how can he be sure when neither he, nor anyone else except us, see what see and feel what we feel? A few Wise Women claim both versions of the Shadowlands are true, but so what?” Her long claws squeezed the ground beneath our feet. “To me, the Shadowlands are Paradise. Nothing else matters.”

Her eyes, the color of the cloudless, sunless sky above us, locked onto mine. “Since we are speaking of Shadow-walkers, the same Wise Woman who bid me find you, also told me the story of your making an oath-bond with Ghostdog’s son, to have him rescue you and bring you back to their version of Earth.”

Guilt stabbed like a dagger through my heart. “Wind Dancer, I’m so sorry I ever did that. I thought being trapped in the Shadowlands would be like being cast into Hel’s underworld; if I’d realized it was more like living in a paradise, I would’ve never done it.”

Wind Dancer gently pressed me against her feathered body with her wing. “No one blames you for what you did,” she said as she let me go. “To be honest, if a Shadow-walker had made such an offer to my corrupted self, I would have accepted his help without a second thought. But now we both know better.”

I smiled up at her. “We do. Where’s this Wise Woman I’m supposed to meet?”

“On an island far to the north of here. She told me there is a way for you to break this oath before the Shadow-walker comes looking for you, though she did not tell me what it was. She told me she needs to speak with you herself.”

“Is the rest of the journey far?”

Wind Dancer shrugged. “Your mortal self would think so, but when you scarcely feel the passage of time, nothing is far. Are you ready to travel?”

I climbed to my feet. “I’m not feeling drunk anymore, so I guess I am.”

“Then let us depart.” I climbed back onto her back and settled in, holding on tight to the bony ridges as her muscles tensed.

Wind Dancer launched herself skyward. The golden tree of mist shrank rapidly behind us as she gained altitude, and a few moments later we were soaring again.