Shadow Re: Slave

When Nephis woke, her mind was already racing.

There was a tight knot of nerves in her chest—tangled with something else. Something lighter. Hope, maybe. Or anticipation.

All day yesterday, she had thought of Sunny.

Why he hadn't returned to them. Why he chose to remain in the shadows. And how he would react now that she knew the truth—that she had seen the name he kept hidden, and still wanted him to stand beside her.

She'd imagined their meeting a hundred different ways.

Imagined what she would say.

And now that the moment was near… she felt strangely weightless. Like she was teetering on the edge of something she didn't fully understand.

Almost like a normal girl—eager to see someone she'd missed too much, too long.

Almost.

But Nephis was far from normal.

She was standing in the heart of a dead zone, surrounded by nightmare creatures, carrying the burden of her fallen clan and the unrelenting purpose to bring down the Sovereigns.

This wasn't a daydream.

And Sunny wasn't a crush.

At least… that's what she kept telling herself.

Still, the weight in her chest hadn't gone away.

So she rose early, dressed in silence, and prepared to leave the outer settlement.

Not as Changing Star.

Not as a warrior.

But simply as someone who needed answers.

The cold wind rolled over the Forgotten Shore as Nephis approached the edge of the outer wall.

She saw him there—just as Seishan had said.

Sunny.

Sitting beside a small, smoldering camp, his back to her, legs dangling over the edge of the towering stone. His silhouette looked strangely peaceful. Still.

But the moment she arrived, he shifted slightly—acknowledging her presence without turning.

He's been watching me, she thought. Probably since halfway here. Through the shadows…

She hesitated, then walked closer—step by step—until only a pace separated them.

Only then did he turn.

He wasn't smiling.

But his expression was warm. Tired. Soft in a way few ever saw.

She blinked.

He looked different.

Sharper. His features more refined, skin clearer, eyes less hollow. He still wore the same dark clothes, but he'd grown—slightly taller, slightly stronger. The ghost of the slum-born boy she once knew had faded.

But still… it was him.

Her Sunny.

He looked at her for a long moment.

Then, in a voice far gentler than the world deserved, he said:

"Hey, Neph. How've you been?"

She met his gaze—deep, dark onyx eyes that were impossible to read.

But this time… she saw something.

A spark.

She didn't know of what.

Hope? Fear? Pain?

She stepped forward without meaning to, standing so close she could have reached out and touched him.

"I've been well," she answered softly.

Then, without giving herself the chance to hesitate, she added:

"Lost from Light."

His face didn't move.

She rushed on before he could speak, heart pounding.

"And before you try to kill me, just—please—let me explain. I only said it so you'd know I know. I won't use it. I swear. Cassie had a vis—"

She stopped.

Because something changed in his eyes.

It wasn't fury. Or fear.

It was grief.

A deep, fathomless sadness that settled over his expression like nightfall.

For a moment, she saw the life drain from him.

The spark vanish.

Even his posture slackened, like something inside had just… broken.

And it terrified her.

Because this wasn't the Sunny she remembered.

Not the unshakable survivor who faced abominations with a crooked smile. Not the boy who shrugged off wounds that would have shattered her spirit.

This was someone else.

Someone with wounds she couldn't see.

Someone who, for one terrifying heartbeat, had given up.

She almost stepped back.

But he blinked.

And the mask returned.

Composed. Calm.

Just like that.

And that, more than anything, made her heart ache.

He was hiding it from her.

Even now.

Even this.

And then, in that same soft, melodic voice that shouldn't have held so much weight, he asked:

"Do you know what you just did?"

Nephis took a step back.

She didn't mean to.

Her body just moved—recoiling without thought.

Because for the briefest of moments, she had seen something on Sunny's face she couldn't explain. Couldn't process.

A wound that didn't bleed.

A grief too vast to name.

And she didn't know what she'd done to cause it—only that somehow, she had.

So she just shook her head.

Silent.

Hesitant.

Because now his eyes were back to normal—those deep, dark, onyx eyes that were never truly readable. But to her… they'd always felt different.

Not because she understood them.

But because she wanted to.

That was what made the difference.

⸻

Sunny looked at her for a long, quiet moment.

He had recovered his composure so quickly that someone else might have thought they imagined the fracture.

But not Nephis.

She had seen the mask slip.

And he knew it.

Nephis was deeply disturbed by the look on Sunny's face.

She didn't understand it—not really. But something in her gut told her she had hurt him. Deeply. In some way she couldn't grasp.

Unconsciously, she took a step back.

Then she hesitated… and shook her head.

"I… I don't know," she said softly. "I don't know what I did."

She wanted to ask. Wanted him to explain. But the words didn't come.

Instead, she stood there—frozen—staring into those deep, dark onyx eyes. Eyes that had returned to what was "normal" for him.

Except they weren't.

Not really.

Because normal people didn't have eyes like that.

Sunny watched her in silence.

For a moment, his mask had cracked.

And she had seen it.

The look on her face, the step she had taken back… it was clear. She had felt it, even if she didn't understand it.

That's why she stepped away, Sunny thought. She saw the truth for just a second. And it scared her.

He let out a slow, quiet breath.

This moment had always been inevitable.

He had known, ever since he gained his True Name.

One day, someone would learn it. And when they did… he would be enslaved again.

The thought used to terrify him.

Still did, sometimes.

But now… with Nephis standing in front of him, uncertain and shaken… he wasn't as afraid.

Because if it had to be someone—he preferred it to be her.

In hindsight, he didn't know why he and Nephis had thought the bond mattered so much back then.

As if it could stop something as stubborn as them.

He had been so caught up in the fear of being controlled… so stuck in their heads, trying to be strong alone. Too blind to see the obvious:

They had loved each other anyway.

Even when memory itself had been torn from them.

Even when Nephis had forgotten his name, his face… her feelings had still returned.

If Oblivion couldn't break us, Sunny thought, why did I think a damn bond could?

And now, he realized something else.

He had always lived with fear—fear that someone would find out, someone would use it, someone would take away his freedom.

But if Nephis knew, if she was the one to hold that power…

Then maybe, just maybe, he could stop running.

Maybe he could choose to stop.

So no—he wasn't angry.

Just… unprepared.

It had come sooner than he thought. And not from him.

Cassie, he thought. Of course. Just like last time.

She must have seen something in one of her visions—something from my past live

And when Nephis said those three words, it had all come back.

The pain. The despair. The helplessness.

And that had shown on his face.

Just for a moment.

And that moment had frightened her.

But Sunny still had to make sure she understood—truly understood—what had just happened.

That some things could not be undone.

That words, once spoken, carried weight that could never be lifted.

So he said, quietly:

"Look at your runes."

Nephis blinked, confused. Her breathing was still uneven, her hands trembling slightly. But she obeyed.

She turned her gaze inward, summoning the familiar glowing script that marked her soul.

At first, she saw nothing unusual.

Her title. Her Aspect. Her lineage.

And then—

Her breath caught.

There, etched between the lines of her soul, glowing with the same undeniable truth as all the rest:

Slave: Lost from Light

Name: Sunless

Her chest tightened.

She stared at the runes, unwilling to believe what she saw.

But they were real.

Undeniable.

Written into her soul like everything else the Spell deemed true.

And that was when the full weight of what she'd done finally hit her.

She hadn't just spoken a name.

She had bound him.

Her knees buckled.

She didn't fall—but she might have, if Sunny hadn't stepped forward and caught her.

His arms wrapped around her—firm, warm, steady.

And Nephis stood frozen, eyes wide, the sound of that word still ringing in her skull.

Slave.

Her mind stopped.

She couldn't process it.

Couldn't believe it.

How could something like that even exist?

How could the Spell be so cruel—so utterly monstrous?

She had thought of it as brutal, yes. Ruthless. Unforgiving.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

And worst of all… she had said it.

Not understanding what it would do. Not knowing what it meant.

She hadn't hurt Sunny in battle. She hadn't failed to protect him.

No.

She had broken something inside him—with nothing but three words.

And that realization clawed at her chest like a dagger.

Her throat tightened.

Her vision blurred.

Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled before she could stop them.

She would have pulled away—but he was already holding her.

Tightly.

As if it wasn't her who had wounded him.

As if he was the one offering comfort.

She hated it.

And yet… she sank into him.

His arms were strong, solid—his body warm. He smelled faintly of ash and wind and something she couldn't place.

Something familiar.

And for a moment, she wasn't Changing Star. She wasn't a warrior. She wasn't the legacy of a fallen clan or a future Sovereign.

She was just a girl.

A girl whose heart was breaking—for someone else.

Because he had none that could break.

Or his just couldn't break anymore than it already had.

And so, silently, she cried.

No sobs. No sound.

Just tears, falling onto his shoulder, while his hand moved slowly across her back—steady, reassuring.

⸻

Sunny didn't speak.

He didn't know what was going through that beautiful, brilliant head of hers.

But when he saw her falter—when he saw the tears building, her body swaying—he hadn't hesitated.

He caught her because he couldn't not.

She had said the words. And she hadn't even known what they meant.

But now, that truth sat heavy on her shoulders.

Especially on hers.

Because Nephis had always seen herself as different from the Sovereigns.

Upright. Principled. Clean.

She wasn't meant to be someone who took away another's freedom with a word.

And yet… she had.

Without meaning to. Without even understanding.

But the Spell didn't care about intentions.

Only truth.

And now the truth was carved into her soul.

For now… she was shaking in his arms.

So he held her tighter.

Letting her lean on him.

Letting her break—because she never let herself.

They stood like that for a while.

Until Nephis's breathing slowed.

Until the tears stopped.

Until she could stand on her own again.

But Sunny didn't loosen his grip around her.

If anything, his arm tightened—drawing her closer, as though he could shield her from the very thing she had just wrought.

She felt the warmth of his breath near her ear, heard the faintest tremor in his voice:

"Are you alright? You don't have to cry. Please… I don't want to see you cry."

The words were little more than a whisper, and yet they struck harder than any blade.

Nephis shuddered.

The tears she had forced back threatened to return—because even now, even now, when a single mis-spoken name had chained him to her will, his first instinct was to comfort her.

How could he think of her pain before his own?

How could he offer solace at the very moment he should have felt nothing but anger, or fear, or despair?

How? Why?

The questions spiraled through her mind, raw and wild, but no answers came—only the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek and the quiet wonder of a warmth she had thought she had long forgotten and now in this moment thought that she didn't deserved it.

And so she clung to him—one hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt, the other trembling at his back—while the weight of three irrevocable words settled over them both.

For now, that was all either of them could do.

After a while, her breathing slowed.

The tremors in her hands faded.

But the weight in her chest remained.

She drew back just enough to meet his eyes—red-rimmed, her voice a whisper, hoarse and broken.

"No… I'm not okay."

Her fingers tightened against his shirt.

"How could I be?"

She shook her head slowly.

"Not after what I've done to you."

Her voice cracked.

"You always protected us—me and Cassie. All through the Labyrinth… even at the end, when we should have died. You stayed behind. You sacrificed yourself."

A breath.

"And after that… you still watched over us. Still helped us. From the shadows. Quietly. Always."

Her throat worked, trying to swallow the grief.

"So how can I be okay, Sunny? How can I look at you and be okay—when I made you my slave?"

Her gaze searched his face, desperate, lost.

"And how can you be so calm?"

The last words barely left her lips.

They were a whisper—raw and hollow, like something had broken inside her and still hadn't stopped falling.

Sunny let out a quiet breath.

He didn't let go of her.

His voice, when it came, was low—softer than usual. Calm. But not empty.

"Neph… you're right."

There was no bitterness in his words. No edge.

"It was stupid of me to ask if you were okay. Of course you're not. How could you be—after what just happened?"

He paused, gaze turning distant.

"I'm not okay, either. Not really. But I've had time to think about this. A long time."

His fingers curled slightly against her back.

"The first time I saw my innate ability… I knew. I knew I'd be naive to think I could keep my True Name safe forever. To think that I'd always be free."

His jaw tensed.

"I tried. For a while. I really did. You probably already know about Harper… the poor fool. He asked the wrong question. Thought it was a joke."

His voice went quieter.

"But that wasn't the worst of it. There's more… things you don't know yet. Things I'll tell you. One day."

A long silence.

"And when I do… maybe then you'll understand why I'm so calm."

He looked at her then, really looked at her.

"I realized something, not so long ago."

Another breath.

"If I was going to be enslaved again… I'd rather it be by you than anyone else."

⸻

He saw her eyes widen slightly.

And smiled—just a little.

"You don't have to feel guilty, Nephis. Or blame yourself."

His voice lowered further, like he was letting her hear something he hadn't spoken aloud to anyone else.

"I would've told you eventually. Would've asked you to say the words. Not because I wanted to be owned. But because I… trusted you. Because I wanted to stay."

His tone darkened—just a hint of the shadow that lived inside him surfacing.

"There was a time I was a slave before. Not as strong as I am now. Not as… dangerous."

He exhaled slowly.

"I told the man who enslaved me something, right before I killed him: 'There's no one more foolish than a slave who starts to trust their master.'"

His eyes flicked away.

"But later… I met someone else. A friend. A good one."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"They told me: No one is ever truly free. All you can do is choose your shackles. Choose who you give power to… and it won't feel like a prison. It'll feel like purpose."

⸻

His voice was softer now. Uncertain. Honest.

"There was a time I was free. Truly free. Completely unchained from everything—no past, no bonds, no name."

He looked down at his hands.

"It was beautiful, in a way. And it almost destroyed me."

He looked back at her.

"So now… I don't know if I want that kind of freedom again. Not if it means losing everything else, loosing you."

His smile faded, but his eyes held something warm. Fragile.

"Back then, I would've chosen freedom every time. But now… after what I lost… what I've found again…"

He hesitated.

Then said quietly:

"I like you, Neph. Probably more than you realize."

He stepped back just slightly—just enough to look her in the eyes.

"I'm not angry. Not afraid. Not resentful. I'm just… glad."

Another breath.

"Glad I had the freedom to choose you."