Chapter 82 Shadow-Mo and the Royal Threat of Enthusiasm
The shadow version of me stood there, smiling like she’d just stolen my diary and was about to read it aloud at a party. The anxiety and dread pour off me like water in a rainstorm.
“I am the choice you didn’t make,” she said again, voice like velvet dipped in venom. “And now, I will make you.”
“Okay,” I said, stepping back, “but have you considered therapy? As well as some better lines? You keep saying that ‘you will make me’ but really it is about choice, and if I don’t choose, how can you make me do anything?”
She tilted her head. “I am therapy. The kind that hurts. The kind that makes you question your decisions, actions, and choices. I am what makes you feel guilty! I am the one who will make you regret, and I am the one who will make you feel the pain of your life.”
Thessa drew her blade. “I don’t like her. I hate her talking more. She should invest in taping her mouth shut.”
“Which is fair,” Kael said. “We barely like the original. Too much work and lots of disaster.”
“Rude,” I muttered. As I swung my arm out, trying to hit him. Kael danced back laughing like a loon.
Shadow-Mo stepped forward, and the ground beneath her shimmered with the same black flame that had spoken to me in the void. The others instinctively formed a circle around me, which was touching, if slightly ineffective.
“Why are you here?” Milo asked, his voice tight.
“To finish what she started,” Shadow-Mo said, pointing at me. “She touched both flames. She broke the Rift. She opened the third path. She has allowed Calyx to gain more of a foothold in Aeloria.”
“Technically,” Yuel said, “we all broke the Rift. It was a group effort. We are all about teamwork.”
“Don’t drag me into this,” Zeke said. “I was emotionally distant the whole time.”
Ellira stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “What does the third path want?”
Shadow-Mo smiled wider. “It wants everything.”
Before anyone could respond, another scroll materialized in midair, smacking Kael in the face.
“Ugh,” he groaned. “They’re getting aggressive.”
Thessa snatched it and read aloud:
Dear Rift Meddlers,
We have received word of a shadow entity resembling one of your party. We are not surprised.
We are, however, deeply inconvenienced.
Lord Varnish has departed. He is bringing his lute. He will sing.
We suggest you resolve this before he arrives. Or don’t. But if you don’t, he will perform his one-man play, “The Flame Within: A Journey of Emotional Recklessness.”
It is three hours long.
Sincerely (and with growing irritation),
The Queen & King of Aeloria
“I’m starting to think they don’t like us,” Lira said.
“They don’t like anyone,” Yuel replied. “Especially themselves.”
Shadow-Mo raised her hand, and the black flame surged outward, forming a ring around us. The Rift pulsed again, and the ground cracked.
“You have until the next moonrise,” she said. “Choose your path. Or I will choose for you.”
Then she vanished.
Just like that.
No dramatic exit music. No puff of smoke. Just gone.
We stood in silence, the black flame still humming around us.
“Well,” Kael said, “that was horrifying.”
“I liked her boots,” Thessa said.
“She’s me,” I said. “But not me. She’s what I could’ve been. Or might still be.”
“Do we need to tie you to a tree?” Zeke asked.
“Not yet,” I said. “But keep the rope handy.”
Talon knelt beside the flame ring. “This is old magic. Forbidden. The kind that doesn’t ask permission. It also has a Calyx feel to the magic.”
“Like Kael at dinner parties,” Yuel muttered.
“I’m charming,” Kael said.
“You’re exhausting,” Thessa replied.
Ellira stood, brushing ash from her hands. “We need to find the source of the third flame. If it’s choosing Mo, it’s choosing all of us.”
“Great,” Milo said. “So, we’re all doomed.”
“Not yet,” I said. “We have until moonrise.”
“Which is in three days,” Lira said. “Assuming the moon doesn’t quit out of spite.”
“Can moons do that?” Zeke asked.
“Everything can quit out of spite,” Yuel said. “Especially royalty.”
Another scroll appeared.
This one was scented.
Thessa gagged. “Lavender and judgment.”
Kael read it aloud:
Dear Flame Fumblers,
We are aware of the countdown. We are also aware that you have no plan.
Lord Varnish has composed a ballad. It includes interpretive dance.
We suggest you act quickly. Or don’t. But if you don’t, we will send the Royal Archivist to explain the history of flame-based anomalies. He speaks in footnotes.
Sincerely (and with a headache),
The Queen and King of Aeloria.
I crumpled the scroll. “We need a plan.”
“Step one,” Kael said, “don’t die.”
“Step two,” Thessa added, “don’t let Shadow-Mo monologue again.”
“Step three,” Yuel said, “find the third flame’s origin.”
“Step four,” Zeke said, “avoid Lord Varnish.”
“Step five,” Milo said, “figure out which Mo is real.”
Everyone looked at me.
I looked at the Rift.
It pulsed again.
And then—
A second shadow stepped out.
This one wasn’t me.
It was Milo.
“Oh”
“My”
“Goodness”
“Oh, really, can’t we catch a break. Now there is another Milo? What's next? Another Thessa, another Lira, another Talon, another Ellira, another Yuel, another Zeke. Oooh, I want another me. I have always wanted to be in two places at once.” Kael says with glee.
“I think three Mo’s and two Milo’s are more than enough problems to deal with at the moment, so close your mouth or we will close it permanently,” Ellira growls as she turns to smack Kael.
“I’ve got the tape in my backpack. Give me a minute to find it, and we can shut him up,” Zeke mutters as he bends down searching through his bag. “I swear it is in here.”
“Is this the right time? We need to figure out a plan,” Thessa mutters as she continues to eye the second Milo.