Asher's Umbrakinesis Application

[Asher Harrington Rare Rare]

Asher had spent many days thinking about her charts with Tristan and Akemi. They were both skilled at Umbrakinesis. Both had inherited the ability. Both knew how to manipulate it and how to conjure it. But the way the two of them approached it, it was so different. Perhaps it had a lot to do with their personalities. While Tristan was more open and lively, Akemi was reserved and liked to watch everyone from a distance. The fact that she was closer to the former was astounding to her. She had always related more to people that were quiet and reserved and looked at the world in rather the same way. It was rare for her to have friends that were like Tristan, emotional and at times maybe even needy. Asher didn't display many emotions. She always had them buried. A trait she wasn't sure where it had come from, for no other member of her family ever approached things the same way. Maybe it came from her mother but Asher being who she was and her mother being who she was, left the question unanswered.

But an exercise in existentialism was not part of the task of the day. In fact, the only thing Asher could care about at that moment was finally cracking the code to the thing she knew deep down was a part of her. She just never knew how to bring it forth. She had gotten as far as she had ever with Tristan and that little flame made of shadows in her hand. It hadn't been an enchantment. She had felt them at the tip of her fingers, like a tingling at first at the tip of her fingers. Akemi had said that the shadows spoke and the darkness was like this bittersweet melody that whispered in her ear and possessed notes of temptation and power. It was easy to lose yourself in it, she had said and Asher believed her without second guessing her words. It wasn't a hard notion to digest. Asher knew how easy it was to fall into temptation. She had seen it in her brother and how easy it was for him to fall for addictive habits. She knew herself she could do the same and standing at the edge always brought her this sense of adrenaline. One day, she was sure, she would let herself get a little too close.

But she pushed all that aside because she wasn't as advanced in her knowledge to deal with that yet. She just wanted to understand why it was taking so long for her to fully develop it. She felt like she was trailing behind. She had always felt a bit weird. Her fingers were always uncharacteristically cold. She always felt at ease in the darkness, not opting to light up her room with candles or artificial light and though she had never thought of it as unusual, her twin brother had remarked it was no normal. Asher never thought to question what he meant by normal, for the twins themselves were certainly not normal and the fact that she was more comfortable, even at ease in the darkness was something familiar to her. It had never occurred to her that Arsen didn't feel the coldness at the tips of her fingers or that he had a hard time adjusting his vision in the darkness. He didn't have the vivid dreams dancing around with the shadows in the middle of the night that made her wonder if it had been a dream at all. 

Not one to leave questions unanswered, Asher kept thinking about it. Ever since learning who her mother was, she wasn't surprised by the new things she was learning about herself but she had always used her brother as a point of reference. If they both shared the same abilities and the same skills, then she knew it was normal for someone of her background but this was different and he wasn't exactly complaining about cold fingers and shadows dancing around in his dreams. She hadn't even thought to asked him and why she hadn't bothered to do was a question she couldn't quite answer. Maybe it was because she was afraid of what she might find, that perhaps this was not normal and she shouldn't be feeling this way. 

Realizing there was no one to ask, especially not her mother since she had long ago decided her kids weren't important enough for her to be around, she went the only place she could think of. The New York Public Library was an iconic landmark in the city and a place she had gone many times, both for leisure and social events. If there was a place in the city that would have the information, it would certainly be here, in the classical section where all the old and rare books are located. Her family had been patrons of the library for what seemed like generations and Asher had only to give her last name to be granted access to the archives, but not without the reluctant and watchful eye of one of the librarians. She started the only way she knew how and it was through old books that talked about mythology. Hecate wasn't a topic that she found easily, especially considering that most books reference the major gods but what she did find was detailed. "Regarded as the goddess of magic, Hecate is a Titaness of the third generation and daughter of Asteria and Perses. A lover of solitude, she expects people to engage in their own decision making and resents the Olympians for treating her a minor goddess. She is described as having he powers of a Titaness and a goddess, which include mist control, mystiokinesis, necromancy and umbrakinesis·

Asher frowned at the last part, reading it repeatedly. Having a private school education had meant that she was familiar with Greek and Latin roots. It was easier to understand what some words meant when you know the root of the word and umbrakinesis was Greek for shadow and kinesis for motion. Motion of shadows. Asher knew that her abilities were stronger at night and she knew from seeing portraits of her mother that she was often depicted as having three heads, morning, noon, and night. But the rest of the text didn't really go into specifics of what her abilities entailed but she knew that the children of Hades could do both of those as well. Leaning back against her chair, Asher sighed, more frustrated than ever as to why there wasn’t a straight answer to the things that were happening to her.

There wasn't much point in sitting around waiting for the answer to magically fall from the sky. That night, she sat on her window nook watching the rain fall over the deserted road on 74th street. She wasn't bored exactly, but there was no other way she could describe it. She had been looking down at the empty street wondering why it was so lonesome when she began picturing the dozens of people that walked by every single day. Mothers with strollers and kids walking to school. Business men getting into their townhouses and joggers. She didn’t make the connection with what she was reading earlier. She was zoned out, watching, imagining and creating without realizing what she was doing. She had always felt at ease when it rained and she had always managed to lose herself in the soft noises of falling water. 

But the silence that followed was as piercing as the hissing that came afterwards. The children of gods were not unfamiliar with danger and there were many creatures after them but Asher had never had to deal with an overwhelming amount of them and even when she had been in danger, she had always been with her brother and the two of them had been able to find their way out. But this time, she was alone and the hissing lasted only a moment before her window shattered. Asher closed her eyes and turned her head around, feeling the glass cut her skin. When she could open them, she saw a feather laying on her floor and it only took her a moment to know what she was going up against. Naturally, Asher ran, down the stairs and out her townhouse. She didn’t want the stymphalion inside and if she had learned anything it was that it was much easier to fight off a monster when she wasn't confined by her surroundings. 

She knew stymphalions were birds that travelled in large flocks and their large feathers, like the one that had broken her window, were toxic. It was only a matter of time before this one would be joined by the rest of its flock. It was hard for her to move out of the way as the bird launched feathers at her, and she knew it was a lot easier than fighting off the beak, but as she tried to move past two that were sent her way, her knit sweater go caught on the feather, and she ended up hitting the ground. Asher grunted feeling the pain of her skull against the concrete and looked at how close her wrist had been from getting pierced by the feather. But if it had been sharp enough to get stuck in the concrete of a New York City street, it would be easy for it to tear through her flesh. 

Asher panicked, unable to move and watching as the stymphalion quickly made her way towards her. She felt like screaming, but no sound came out and when she was sure the bird would rip through her face, she shielded herself with her spare arm. She waited, and when it seemed like the creature was taking longer than it should, Asher dared to open her eyes. There was a shadow of a man with a sword fighting off the bird. Another shadow wrapping itself around the neck of the bird. One by one it seemed the shadows from before were slithering around her, manifesting themselves on the ground and fending of the bird and the flocks that were approaching behind it. Asher thought she was hallucinating. She was sleep deprived surely and what was happening in front of her was certainly not real. But the more she focused her vision the more vivid the shadow figures in front of her became. It was like she could imagine them one by one and they would materialize. And then when she started thinking too much about it, wondering why they were there, if she was going crazy.

But thinking she was going crazy was not the most prominent feeling inside her. Asher felt her heart beating fast against her chest and the panic and fear she felt didn’t subsided. But she continued to see the shadows defend her, some shooting arrows at the flock and others choking them as they wrapped themselves around their bodies like anacondas. She had lost track of time and when the rest of the flock left, the shadows left with them, coming back into her own body. Asher felt like she had been hit with a shock of cold air and her blood pressure dropped. It was a few seconds before she lost consciousness.

When she awoke, she had been laying her room, her window back to normal and her brother sitting at the edge of the bed. When she asked her brother what he was doing there, he explained he had found her on the street, the bird feather holding her down, and only a small amount of blood from a superficial wound in her head. She instinctively touched the back of her skull, not feeling anything except a piercing headache and the need to get some water. She looked at her brother and then at the feather laying a few inches from her window. If what had happened to her the night before had been real then why had it never happened before and why was Arsen different? They were twins. Surely, he would be able to do the same. After her brother left, leaving her alone with her thoughts and allowing her to rest, Asher got up and picked up the stymphalion’s feather. If that was real then everything else surely was. She wouldn’t have survived a stymphalion’s attack by herself. So, she kept it. Surely camp would have the answers she needed and if there ever was a need for evidence she could look back at this feather for reassurance. She wasn’t a faithful person but she knew that until she was proven otherwise, she had to trust her memory. 

It's not a spell, she kept thinking. Not a spell. She took a deep breath, needed to clear her mind. She closed her eyes, focused on what she could sense around her. She could smell the crisp winter air and feel the wind from the lake against her skin. She could hear the soft rustling of leaves and the crickets, nature moving around her. She could feel her feet planted firmly in the ground and feel the slight need for water at the back of her throat. She extended her arms, a few ways away from her and took another deep breath. It took a few moments but she felt the tingling in at the tip of her fingers, like an intense cold in the middle of a blizzard. She never thought to ask if Tristan of Akemi ever felt it. When she had first made that little flame, she felt it heavy and cold to the touch. The coldness made sense, as there was no light and therefore no warmth but the heaviness from I was interesting. She supposed it made sense as black holes had the most density out of any other form of matter in the universe and they were pure darkness.

Focus. She thought again. What do you feel? Heavy. She kept thinking but that was when Asher opened her eyes and felt it. It started in her hand. Her pale skin covered in a black, almost sheer glove that slowly made its way through her body. She felt watched, almost haunted and though there was a moment of panic at the back of her mind, Asher stood still. If she moved she might stop and she didn't want to. As the shadow wrapped itself around her body, Asher felt like she was laying down a weighted blanket, yet the feeling was comforting rather than suffocating. When it stopped, the darkness having covered everything to the tip of her fingers on her left hand, Asher took a step back. It was odd to see a shadow in the middle of the night. One that was the same height and built as her, looking back as a reflection of herself. It stood still, like a mannequin and it was only when Asher reached to touch it it that it moved to meet her touch.

When her hand touched it, the shadow of her own body morphed and Asher kept thinking, imagine it turn into a million different shapes. The moonlight made it easy for her to see it, first a circle and then the shape of a star. Asher felt the darkness in her hands and all she could think about was what she wanted to turn the shapes to next. Finally, though, she brought it back to the palms of her hands, slowly the shadows smaller, feeling the resistance, the density of the matter in her hands until she finally snapped it close in her hands. She had her palms wrapped over each other, feeling the coldness and the heaviness fade away slowly and when it was gone, Asher opened her hands to reveal nothing but the palm of her hands staring back at her.

Edited March 12, 2023 by Asher Harrington