Little Shadow: A Prosian Tale - Chapter 3

Ingwyn the Imp

Eventually, as the night moved on, the walking spirits began to thin, and the forest once again became quiet of any other sounds besides that of the nocturnal wildlife hidden away in the darkness. Once the last of the spirits seemed to pass, the little shadow nestled himself at the base of a large tree. He placed some leaves over himself and the orb, bathing the small space in warm light. Despite his situation, the little shadow felt comfortable in his little makeshift fort. Laying down, his body immediately relaxed and he fell into a deep sleep, resting his head against the smooth crystal.

            The next morning, when the sun rose and the new light softened the color of the leaves over his head, he arose from his shelter and stretched his arms. During the night, he had a dream, which he could barely recall was a rarity among shadows. In the dream, he found himself in the middle of a large, white space with other shadows wandering around him. There was nothing more to see or do, but the little shadow felt comfortable amongst others of his kind. Yet he had noticed that they all had their own details that made them distinct- a certain hair style, or the width of their arms, the length of their fingers, even the small outline of clothes on their bodies. They all belonged to someone, and with each passing hour he noticed that the little detail he had was diminishing.

            Standing up and stretching his legs, he forced these thoughts out of his mind, hopeful that wherever he was traveling towards would have some sort of answer. He took a few seconds to tear down his fort, then picked up his crystal orb and once again began to walk through the forest. Everything around him, from the ground to the leaves far above, was covered in a layer of morning dew, which caused the ground to give in to the weight of his steps. Droplets of water occasionally rained down around him, a few hitting the top of his head.

            “Where are you off to, Shadow-boy?”

            The voice was sharp and sounded agitated. He turned slowly to see a small blue creature standing upright on a branch far above him. The creature jump down and glided down to a branch closer to him. It was a small being, but its wings seemed almost too large for its torso. It had no shirt, but wore a tight pair of brown shorts. Its feet clung to the branch like a bird’s, but its hands rested at his side. “Everyone else ran the other way, as far as I’ve noticed. I wouldn’t go back that way if I were you.”

            The little shadow cocked his head. Were there others around? Or did he mean the spirits fom last night? Maybe this creature knew something about his identity? He took a few steps forward and looked up at the creature expectantly.

            “What do you want? Can’t you understand me?” The little shadow nodded his head. “Well then, heed my warning and turn around. There is nothing but ruins ahead. Bah! All you shadows are so empty. No independence, unlike us imps. You don’t seem particularly bright. I’m surprised you haven’t drifted yet, assuming you’ve been wandering for very long. There aren’t many little shadow boys around, none at all in the temples.” The imp paused and observed the shadow, who was still staring at him, listening contently. “You seem absolutely clueless to what I’m saying.”

            Again, the little shadow had his head cocked. The small creature waited for a different response, but after a few seconds he sighed. “Ah, forget it. Not even the shadow of a nord can listen to the words of an imp. The sorcerers have called me Ingwyn, and I’ve given you my words, but it’ll be your own fault if you can’t grasp what I’m telling you now. You’re from a temple, undoubtedly, you must know some language at least.” The imp pulled his shorts further up his waist, then looked down at the orb. “Well wait a second, what do you have there?”

            Ingwyn leaned forward, observing the orb. The little shadow defensively drew his arms away, and the imp backed off. “Ah, a little treasure then? On my honor, I have no interest in taking it, worry not. I’ll have all I need once I can get home. But hell, I’m so far behind the crowd I haven’t even seen a spirit.” The imp began to turn away, but the little shadow turned back around and looked at him with interest. “Ah, have you seen the spirits then? Quite the sight at night, I’d imagine. They’re from the temples, or they used to be anyway. But perhaps you should know this yourself. You really have no memory, do you?”

            The little shadow shook his head, and Ingwyn chuckled and began flying upwards. The shadow took a few steps forward, but he cried, “Do not follow me! I refuse to look after anyone else, ‘specially a daft shadow of a child, until I find my own safety.” He flew up to the top branches of the forest and disappeared in the distant greenery. 
           With a heavy sigh, the little shadow turned away from where the imp had run off towards and began walking once again. The imp seemed to have some of the answers he was looking for, but was in too much of a hurry to explain further. Much of what he said made little sense. Questions began to crowd his mind. He brought his foot down hard on a small pile of leaves, making them crack loudly under his weight. The distraction was nice, and he brought his foot down again, this time on a stick, making a loud and satisfying crack. For the rest of the journey, the little shadow found small piles of leaves or bundles of sticks and jumped onto them, filling the quiet of the forest with noises of his own.