As a parting gift for 2007, I give you a Central Shadow Realm one-shot. Nothing truly questionable in here, but rated T anyway.

A world is defined, to some extent, by its myths. It exists to some small part in the stories and legends it generates, the tales and fables. This is true for all fables. It is true for the world of man and it holds true for the Shadow Realm.

The trick is that the myths in of the world of man have no truth. Perhaps, once, they did; history teaches that all legends have at their heart a ring of fact, of something that truly happened. But time passed, fantasy and embellished engulfed the truth of the tale, and when it was done all that was left was the myth.

In the Shadow Realm, the game is often the same. But sometimes... sometimes the myth has a solid aspect. There are tales that are true, with a weight to them that cannot be denied. The figures at the heart of these legends walk the streets of the Central Shadow Realm. They dream and act. They occasionally take offense at their portrayal in the popular press.

But the most important part is this: the myths exist.

Shadow Realm: Silence


For the fifth night of the ninth month, it was unreasonably cold in the Level Four Machine Habitation. Then again, as the Central Shadow Realm has no seasons, anything under a certain temperature would always be unreasonably cold. That threshold was substantially different in separate Living Quarters, but here it was around seventy degrees.

Currently the temperature in the Level Four Machine Habitation was forty-three degrees - a chilly night, even to creatures that did not feel the cold. Of course, severe temperatures would cause trouble to those with more sensative systems, but most machines functioned perfectly fine until the thermometer went under twenty. Even with that being the case, few machines were on the streets that night.

The temperature was forty-three degrees in all parts of the Central Shadow Realm but for two. One was the Pyro and Thunder Living Quarters, where the temperature was always higher due to heating elements. The other was a single alleyway in the Level Four Machine Habitation.

The time was twenty-seven after eight in the evening, and so most of the Central Shadow Realm was dark, but for that alleyway. Past the entrance of that alleyway, a soft golden light fell on the street, and a gentle warmth radiated outward. An X-Head Cannon hovering past stopped at that heat, letting its internal systems take some stress off of its heating elements, and then saw the light. In confusion, it swiveled its head into the alleyway.

Beyond the light, there sat a circular hole in the air, and inside of that hole the machine saw something impossible. Flowers stretched out to the farthest range of its detection, flowers of all colors in the Shadow Realm and some its sensors did not recognize. Overhead, a perfect blue sky looked down on the flowers, large clouds dotting it, and the sun shone down on all of them. Past the flowers, the X-Head Cannon believed it could see a giant marble fountain, with a statue of a young winged woman reaching down amid the streams of water.

A hand set itself on the machine's shoulder, reaching around the edge of the circle, and gave it a gentle push out of the way before the hand's owner stepped into view.

The X-Head Cannon worked in a general store in the Low-Level Warrior and Beast-Warrior Living Quarters, and so it had seen many a warrior before. None of them came nearly as close as this one to defining what a warrior should look like. He stood at least six feet tall, with a form defined by long hours training and meeting most of the machine's parameters for physical excellence. Light blue silks of excellent cut and styling clung close to his skin, and a silvery cape with blue lining hung over his shoulders; he wore long white gloves and white boots. His helmet, shaped vaguely like a hawk's head, did not completely contain his blonde hair, and his eyes were a light blue, set in an almost boyish face with full lips. The warrior held a sword of about four feet in length over his right shoulder, its edge splitting the light as he shifted it.

Without a word, the machine hovered back, and the warrior stepped out of the circle. He then turned and ran one finger down the dead center of the circle. A slight slurping noise sounded in the air, and then the field of flowers apparently collapsed in on itself, crumpling into a small ball before ceasing to be.

Once that was done, the warrior looked around the alleyway, and then back to the machine. His free hand went out, palm up and fingers bent in slightly. The expression on his face spelled out confusion.

"This is the Level Four Machine Habitation," the X-Head Cannon said, the guns on its shoulders clicking slightly as it relaxed. It had seen monsters emerge into being before, but this was a unique case. Still, it now knew where it stood with the newcomer. "The date is the fifth day of the ninth month, 5177, and the time is twenty-nine after eight in the evening. Do you require directions anywhere?"

Nodding, the warrior reached down with his free hand, undoing a pouch tied to his waist. His hand dipped in, taking out a piece of paper. His finger unfolded it, and now the X-Head Cannon leaned in. It was a drawing - a single circle, next to two joined circles, which in turn was next to three joined circles.

The machine whirred for a moment, digging through its memory, before shaking its head. "That does not match anything in my database. I am sorry."

Refolding the paper, the warrior returned it to his pouch before placing his knuckles to his forehead in a silent sigh. He then bowed his head before walking down the road, heading off in an apparently random direction. As he walked, he took the sword off of his shoulder and gently spun it in his fingers.

It took the X-Head Cannon a few moments to move from its current spot. The encounter had left it confused, and heat still clung to where the circle had sat. Only after the heat faded did it hover on towards its home.

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The story has many variations, but the one they tell most often is this one.

In the First Dragon War, when the Blue-Eyes Ultimate Dragon turned its followers against the Central Shadow Realm, there was one warrior who had little power of any sort. He was little more than a child, wearing oversized armor and carrying a sword too big for him to use effectively. The other warriors of his unit made fun of him on a regular basis, not only for his weakness but for how he was alone - there were no others of his species. He had no number, and his kind had no name.

Few monsters ever spoke to him, and he never spoke to anyone. He had never said a word since the day he had come into being. As a result, one of the other warriors nicknamed him "the Silent Swordsman", and the tag stuck.

One quiet day on the battlefield, the soldiers of the small warrior's unit sat around a fire, boasting of their strength to each other, claiming that they could singlehandedly destroy Tyrant Dragons without so much as a scratch and other such claims. That they had only engaged in a handful of skirmishes meant nothing to their bravado sessions. As was his way, the little warrior said nothing.

A trumpet sounded in the distance, calling the unit to battle, and so they put out their fire and marched along. But as they neared the front lines, something cast a shadow over them. As one, they looked up, and saw a massive, winged creature descending on them. Given the area, it could only be a dragon.

And it was easily larger than the entire unit put together...

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There are few easier ways to run directly into the sort of trouble you can't handle in the Central Shadow Realm than taking a shortcut, but the Eria the Water Charmer known as S3-08V (her friends called her Etvee) had a number of reasons to do so, chief among them how cold it was on that night. A charmer's robes are not built for warmth, and her little body got chilled easily. Besides, her familiar needed to be fed.

But as she laid on the ground, staring up into the faces of two Seismic Crushers, Etvee wondered how she had decided cutting through that particular stretch of the Low-Level Spellcaster Living Quarters was a wise move. Both of them stood about two feet taller than she did, with knotted muscles and blue armor on their chests and lower halves, and both were carrying twin swords easily as long as she was tall.

One of them had his foot on her magic rod, meaning she couldn't fight. Either one could kill her with a stray movement of their arms, so fighting was not an option to begin with, but it was the principle that bothered her.

Adjusting his visor, the one nearer her swung a sword down, setting the edge just under Etvee's chin. "You see, Exaye?" he said to his fellow Seismic Crusher, a grin on his face. "I told you, didn't I? I told you leaving the Rock Quarters behind and coming over here would be a wise move! Dark World be damned, if this keeps up we'll be rich by the first month of next year!"

The one with his foot on the charmer's rod chuckled, crossing his swords behind his head. "Ya know, Wyfive, I thought you were a nutcase at first, but it's like they don't even think about where they're running. I mean, doesn't anyone remember the old 'Never enter an alleyway you can't see past the entrance of' rule? Where would you be if you ran into a Despair from the Dark, eh, little thing?"

Etvee narrowed her eyes, somehow managing to ignore the sword against the top of her throat, and muttered, "I'm fifty-three years old... don't call me little." Her courage deserted her as the sword tilted down, and she swallowed, hands going behind her back.

The first Seismic Crusher, Wyfive, dangled the sword in his other hand from his fingertips, grinning at Etvee before he said, "Watch your words. If I kill you we'll have just enough time to dig through your robes for loose change before you shatter. Now, you like having a head?" He paused. "You can answer that."

"Y-Yes..." A chill covered Etvee's spine.

Exaye, the other Seismic Crusher, leaned in and said, "Move slowly and throw me your wallet."

Moving at a very careful pace, the Water Charmer slid her hand into her robes and took out a fake-leather wallet, tossing it at Exaye's feet.

The Rock monster set his swords against the alleyway and knelt, picking the wallet up. He opened it, took out the cash, and grunted. "Damn it. Thirty bucks? Wherever you work, you're getting screwed."

Wyfive suddenly tightened his grip on his free sword, glaring at Etvee. "Did you just make a little chirping noise?" he said, voice cold.

"N-No..." the spellcaster answered, digging her fingers into the street.

"What're you talking about, Wyfive?" Exaye said, setting the wallet between his feet. "A chirping noise?"

"Or a musical note," the other Seismic Crusher said. "Like a quiet piece of music..." He then adjusted his visor, muttering, "Do you smell flowers?"

"Kinda-" And then Exaye looked over his shoulder into a pair of blue eyes, partially hidden under a arched helmet.

One of the monster's knuckles touched to the point of the sword sticking out of his chest, and then the Seismic Crusher shuddered once and slid off the sword, shattering with his weapons as he hit the street.

"Aw, Ra damn me!" Wyfive cursed as he took his sword away from Etvee's neck and charged at the newly-arrived warrior. The warrior just smiled and pulled his free hand back, placing the point of his sword against the ground.

Even as the Seismic Crusher reached where the warrior was standing, he had spun on his sword and wrapped his empty arm around the monster's neck. A single twist of his shoulder broke Wyfive's neck, and he let the body drop, softly kicking both the wallet and the rod back to their rightful owner as the Seismic Crusher shattered.

There was a moment of silent shock, and then the Water Charmer tucked her wallet back into her robe, reclaiming her rod. Only then did she dare look up at her rescuer. Her eyes went wide, and she whispered, "You..."

The warrior nodded, giving her a wide, almost innocent smile. He then undid the pouch at his hip and took out a piece of parchment, which he unfolded. On it was drawn a single circle next to two joined circles, which in turn was next to three joined circles.

"Huh?" Etvee said, looking closely at the drawing. Her eyes ran over it twice, and then a spark went off in her mind. "Hey... I've seen this before. Now if I knew where..."

Blinking, the warrior folded his parchment and tucked it into the pouch again, looking at her with undisguised anticipation. His hand came back out of the pouch with a cloth, and he started wiping the blood off of his sword.

For a legend, you would expect more patience, the Water Charmer thought as she searched her memory. She then snapped her fingers, saying, "I remember now... I'm a secretary in the Library Arcanium, and my boss has that same drawing in one of his books. He said it had some scary meaning, but I don't think he ever told me what..."

Even as he cleaned off the blade of his sword, the warrior smiled, holding out his hand afterward (making sure to toss the cloth away first). Etvee took it, and he pulled her lightly to her feet before setting the sword over his shoulder, turning to leave. He then paused, set his hand to his face, and turned back to her with an embarassed grin.

"Ask for Volunios," Etvee told him, dusting off her robes.

With a nod, the warrior wandered off, disappearing once he got out of the alley.

Once she was sure she had everything, the Water Charmer headed towards her apartment, thinking, I never thought he was real before... Guess not all of the stories are myths. Still, he's not one I would have put high on the list of possibilities.

0000000

As the story goes, the small warrior's unit had never seen a dragon of anywhere near the size of the one now descending on them. Their courage failed, and they turned to flee, ready to discard their weapons if need be to escape it. It swooped over them, and as its shadow passed over them, so they broke ranks and began to run for their lives.

But not the Silent Swordsman. He stood his ground, holding up his sword, and marshalled all the bravery he could. The urge to get as far from the dragon as possible was as strong in him as his fellows, but all of their taunting and mockery bolstered his resolve, and he planted his feet, determined not to run.

And then, for the first time in his life, the Silent Swordsman spoke. He shouted at his fellow soldiers, "Come on! It's one dragon and we're an entire unit! If we all attack at once we're sure to bring it down!"

The sound of his voice was so unfamiliar that the other soldiers came to a halt, not sure what they had just heard. They turned to him, even as the dragon's shadow passed over them again, and then what he had said became clear to them. As one, they looked to each other, and then nodded in consensus.

The shadow came down as the dragon began to land, and the unit pulled together into one band. All of the soldiers drew their weapons, the little warrior at their heart, and the unit let out a battlecry in unison. They then charged at the dragon, weapons raised.

But as they began to run, a stray rock caught the Silent Swordsman's toe, and the warrior crashed to the ground with a cloud of dust, unseen by his comrades.

Only as the unit approached the dragon did they see what, in fact, it was - a tremendous, black-scaled monster, its eyes glowing with hate and its wings spread wide. Large portions of its skin were covered in burnt-black rock, and it hunched over as it sat on its hind legs, the weight of its body pulling it down. Fire flicked from its nostrils.

They had charged the Meteor Black Dragon without realizing it.

With one massive roar, the Meteor Black Dragon spat a chunk of burning, white-hot stone - a meteorite - at the charging soldiers. They were so absorbed in their attack that by the time any of them attempted to get out of the way, it was far too late. A low rumble shook the air around them, and the soldiers died in a rush of fire and screams. Nothing was left of their bodies or of the meteorite that had killed them.

Only one member of the unit survived. The Silent Swordsman had tripped long before the soldiers had gotten into range, and so the little warrior avoided the fate of his unit. But it seemed that would not be the case for long, as the dragon turned its eyes on him...

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The Council Upper Quarter, home to the Library Arcanium, generally settled down around nine in the evening, although it never truly closed. Government never stops operations, and the Upper Quarter was the government. The Library Arcanium was likewise knowledge, and knowledge and the hunt for it never cease. They do, however, turn the lights low and clear off the table when it gets late.

At five after nine, LO-573-C sat on top of her notepad, leaning against the receiver as a particularly stubborn caller berated her. Fairy Guardians had a number of disadvantages in life aside from the starting handicap of being Level Three. They were only about two feet tall at their highest, which made for a difficult time doing most day-to-day tasks, and their appearance was far from intimidating. Being able to fly did make up for some of the drawbacks, but dignity remained in short supply.

"Sir, could you please call back?" LO-573-C said into the receiver, holding it on her shoulder as she tried to write the caller's number, pushing the pencil around with her other shoulder. "I am afraid we do not take questions or visitors after nine... I don't care if you happen to be a Level Six, sir, the rules are rules... There's no need for such language. Good day, sir!" She lunged her body up, the phone hitting the button but not locking into the cradle. The dial tone droned as she finished scribbling the number down.

One push of her legs sent LO-573-C (Lofi, as she called herself) airborne, and she buzzed over to a coffee cup, setting the pencil into it. She then took a spear out of the cup - one of her racial weapons - and scratched her foot with it, letting out a sigh. Being the nightshift secretary was usually a boring job, but some would-be querents were nocturnal and didn't understand how most of the Central Shadow Realm was not.

A small sound, like a musical note, chimed in the air, and Lofi set her spear down, eyes wide. Even fairies that came to being in the Central Shadow Realm had a touch of the Higher Plane in their makeup, and that sound had brought it to the fore. Soon it was followed by a sweet smell, and a tear formed in her eye; it was the smell of a flower native to the Higher Plane.

Light blue cloth very carefully dabbed the tear away, and she looked up in confusion... only to find herself looking into a pair of very soft blue eyes, looking out from under a helmet.

Lofi buzzed back to her feet, managing to hide her utter amazement, and said, "Good evening, sir... I am sorry, but we don't take visitors at this ho-"

The man standing before her tapped his foot once, and she knew better than to try to argue. You don't hold a myth to the same standards as the rabble. "What brings you here?" she asked, sighing.

Taking a pencil from the coffee cup, the warrior wrote, "Volunios" on the pad beside the Fairy Guardian.

As she read the name, Lofi thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes, he's in, sir. His office is down the hall, third door on the right."

Patting her head, the warrior put the pencil back and headed off that way, leaving a very confused fairy in his wake.

To be continued next post...