Chapter Six: The Buried Truth
The night had never felt so endless.
Aria sat by the dying embers of her fire, her fingers tracing the locket's smooth edges over and over again. Sleep refused to come, her mind spinning with the stranger's words. Shadowborn. A name that should mean nothing, yet it filled the hollow spaces in her soul like an answer she hadn't known she was searching for.
Her father.
Her real father.
Had her mother known what she was? Had she hidden the truth out of fear?
The village had always whispered behind Aria's back. They had always looked at her as though she were something other. And now, for the first time, she knew why.
She wasn't just different.
She was something they had feared for a reason.
As dawn broke over the horizon, Aria rose, her resolve hardening. She couldn't stay in the dark any longer. She needed to know the full truth.
She needed to find the rest of it.
The market square was already alive with the morning's hustle when she arrived. The scent of fresh bread mixed with the earthy aroma of damp stone, but the usual comfort of the town was lost on her. Every face seemed foreign, every voice distant.
Her mind was somewhere else.
You will seek the truth, Aria.
She pulled her cloak tighter, her gaze scanning the crowd. There was only one place she could start.
The village archives.
It was a small stone building at the heart of town, rarely visited except by scholars and elders who still believed in the power of written history.
Aria slipped through the heavy wooden door, the scent of aged parchment and dust filling her senses.
Behind a desk, an old man sat hunched over a pile of scrolls, his thin-rimmed spectacles sliding down his nose. He barely glanced up.
"Library's for the elders," he muttered.
Aria stepped forward. "I need information," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
The man sighed. "On what?"
She hesitated. If she mentioned Shadowborn, he might cast her out.
"On the town's past," she said carefully. "Strange events. People who… vanished."
The librarian finally looked at her, his gaze sharp despite his age.
"What exactly are you looking for, girl?"
"Anything about… unnatural abilities," she said.
His expression darkened. He stood slowly, then disappeared behind the shelves, his frail frame moving surprisingly quickly for someone his age.
Aria held her breath as he returned, carrying a worn leather book.
He placed it before her.
"This town has secrets," he murmured. "Ones that were meant to be buried."
Aria's fingers trembled as she flipped the first page.
And then, she saw it.
A symbol burned into the parchment. A swirling, shadow-like mark—the same one that had flickered in her father's golden eyes.
Her breath hitched.
The title read: The Children of the Shadows.
She had found what she was looking for.
Aria's hands shook as she traced the strange symbol on the old leather-bound book. It was eerily familiar, a swirling, jagged mark that seemed to shift when she looked at it too long.
Her father's golden eyes had held this same mark—flickering like embers in the dark.
The librarian watched her carefully. "You should not be here," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "This book is forbidden."
Aria forced herself to meet his gaze. "Why?"
He sighed, running a wrinkled hand over the brittle pages. "Because the town fears what it does not understand. And what it fears, it destroys."
A chill ran down her spine. "What are the Children of the Shadows?"
The librarian hesitated, his fingers hovering over the page. Then, after a moment, he spoke.
"They were beings who walked between worlds," he said. "Not entirely human, nor entirely… something else. Legends say they were born of darkness, gifted with sight beyond mortal understanding."
Aria's breath hitched.
Sight beyond mortal understanding.
Like hers.
The librarian's gaze sharpened. "Why do you ask?"
She hesitated. Should she tell him the truth? That she had met one of these so-called Children? That he had claimed to be her father?
No. Not yet.
Instead, she said, "I think I might have seen something… connected to them."
The librarian exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Then you are in grave danger, child."
Aria's stomach twisted. "Why?"
He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Because those who search for the truth do not always like what they find."
She swallowed hard. But she had to know.
Turning back to the book, she flipped the fragile pages, scanning the faded ink.
The entries were sparse—most of the information had been deliberately erased, whole sections ripped away. But what remained told a grim story.
There were once many of them, the Children of the Shadows. Some lived in secret among men. Others vanished into the darkness, their fates unknown. But one thing was certain—where they walked, the veil between worlds grew thin. And with them came… something else.
Aria's pulse pounded.
"Something else?"
She flipped to another passage, the words barely legible through time's decay.
They are the harbingers. Wherever they go, the others follow. The ones from beyond. The ones we cannot see.
Her breath caught.
The creatures.
The things that had started appearing to her ever since her powers awoke.
Had she been attracting them?
Her fingers tightened on the pages as dread settled deep in her bones.
The librarian suddenly reached over, snapping the book shut. "That is enough," he said firmly.
Aria flinched. "Wait—"
"I should not have even shown you this," he said, glancing around as if afraid someone might hear. "Leave it be, girl. For your own sake."
But Aria couldn't leave it.
She couldn't turn away.
Not when she finally had answers.
She squared her shoulders. "Tell me where to find them."
The librarian's expression turned grim. "Find who?"
"The others," Aria said. "The ones like me."
His eyes darkened. "If they are still out there, they do not wish to be found."
"Then I'll make them listen."
The librarian studied her, and for a long moment, he said nothing. Then, finally, he sighed.
"There is one place," he admitted. "An old ruin, beyond the eastern woods. Some say it was a temple to the old ones. Others say it was something worse."
A spark of determination lit in Aria's chest.
"I'm going," she said.
The librarian's gaze softened, almost pitying. "Then may the gods protect you."
She didn't believe the gods had ever protected her before.
But maybe this time, she wouldn't need them.
Maybe this time, she would save herself.
The wind howled through the trees as Aria stood at the forest's edge, staring at the ancient path ahead.
She had packed lightly—just her dagger, a flask of water, and the stolen book tucked safely beneath her cloak.
She had no map. No guide.
Only a name.
The Shadowborn.
The night pressed in around her as she took her first step forward. The weight of the unknown loomed before her, dark and vast.
But for the first time in her life, Aria was not afraid.
She was ready.
She had always been ready.
And she would find the truth—no matter the cost.