The Half-Light Cycle

Imagery: AI-directed. Story and world: original creative work.

Seryth sat on a ledge, squinting into the sun. He could not abide its light, but this would be the last time he saw it. The shade elves’ most sacred ritual was eagerly awaited by the few privileged to take part and granted Transcendence. Tomorrow would be his time to transcend — to sit amongst the wraiths, his shadow kin, in the ether realm, an honored place upon the thrones of his ancestors. He would be sacrificed by the Moonward, a blade forged of shadow, in the deepest Vaults. Only one shade elf was allowed to transcend every five hundred years. He considered himself lucky.

Yet now, with the day finally come, the thought of being sacrificed filled him with unease. And so, he had come to the surface to reflect on his long life. It must have been a decade since he last felt the wind on his face, the sun upon his pale skin. He shaded his black eyes against the glare.

When he felt ready, he rose, preparing to descend into the deep caverns once more.

But as he turned to leave, his ankle twisted on a loose stone, and he slipped down the steep incline and over a cliff, cracking his head on a rock. His vision from flashed from bright red to nothing black.

Serena, a meadow mage of Verdance happened to be collecting frostfern in the foothills when she noticed some wet blood on a rock. Peering into a ditch she saw the broken shade elf, his white skin streaked with dark blood, his arm bent at a sickening angle. Serena crept closer. She’d never seen a shade elf before. No one in living memory had. His pallid skin gave him the look of a corpse, yet his chest still rose and fell. She knelt and rummaged in her bag for a healing potion. Meadow mages specialized in life magic, and Serena always had some about her. As the magic worked, the wound in the elf’s head sealed, and his arm straightened and mended. The shade elf sat up with a gasp, his dark eyes flicking around.

“Lie down,” Serena urged. “You are not yet fully healed.”

“Where am I?”

“In Verdance, foot of the Arcannum peaks.”

“I… fell?”

“From the gash in your head, and broken arm I’d guess yes. A long way. You’re lucky to be alive. But don’t worry. I’ve healed you. Mostly.” The shade elf’s eyes widened, and he struggled to rise. “I must get back.”

“Shh shhhh. Just lay back. My potion needs a little more time.”

“You don’t understand-”

“I understand well enough. Try to climb back up the mountain now, and you’ll not make it halfway. At least wait until nightfall.”

The shade elf considered this and nodded. He touched his head gingerly and winced. Serena studied him curiously.

“In all the tales I’ve heard of shade elves, I never heard that they have such hard heads.”

She smiled and extended her hand. “I’m Serena, a meadow mage.”

“I’m Seryth… Thank you. I hadn’t expected such kindness outside of Umbra.”

“Why not?”

“You know, the war, the truce.”

“Oh, that. Well, I mean, that’s ancient history now.”

“I remember it.”

“Wait, you were there?”

“I was young, but yes.”

“How old are you?"

“I thought you were in your early thirties,” she said, laughing. “I’m twenty-three, by the way. So, slightly less.”

“You remind me of a human I met back then. One who also showed me a kindness I perhaps did not deserve.”

“Not me, I’m afraid. We meadow mages rarely make it to a hundred, despite our life magic.”

“Well, the likeness is uncanny. Though I suspect my kind would all look similar to you, as well.”

The two sat and talked for some time until Seryth’s wounds had healed, the sun sank, and a moon rose overhead.

“I must leave,” Seryth said, standing.

“So soon?”

“My people will be looking for me.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

“No.”

“Oh. I suppose I will be an old woman or have passed by the time you come back again.”

“I will not be coming back. I am to transcend.”

“Transcend?”

“To pass the veil. To become a wraith lord.”

“Sounds important.”

“It is. I am lucky. Which is why I cannot delay any longer. But I thank you for your kindness. I’m afraid I have nothing to give you.”

“You owe me nothing. I will never forget this. No one back at Willow Reach is going to believe me. Then, I guess it’s goodbye.”

“Thank you, Serena.”

The shade elf knelt and kissed her hand. Serena shuddered at the chill of his cold lips. For the first time since she had found him, Seryth smiled. “Now, at the end of my days, I know at last what the sun tastes like.”

Serena watched the shade elf depart with sadness in her heart. When he was lost from view she turned and hurried the five leagues back to Willow Reach before a search party was sent out looking for her.

The climb was tough, but Seryth could see better in the dark than he could in the light. He arrived home in time for the ritual. He took his place on the Transcendence Slab, an altar of thick obsidian. All his people had gathered. He would miss this world; the deep Vault, the shimmering depths, the majestic chambers, and echoing halls; but he could not refuse this honor. It was his only chance, and one few others would ever be gifted. Lord and Lady Vorn watched as Myrrik, the seer, brought down the Moonward shadow blade into Seryth’s heart.

Murmurs of confusion swept the audience. Slowly, Seryth sat up.
“What is it? What is wrong?”

“The blade cannot pierce you,” Myrrik said, with a frown. “This cannot be.”

“What’s wrong?” Lord Vorn asked, leaning in.

“The wraiths have rejected him,” Myrrik said.

Gasps came from around the chamber. “But why?” Seryth said. “I am ready. I am willing.”

Myrrik held his hand up. “He is cursed.”

“Cursed? How?” Seryth asked.

“You have light in your heart. This… this is a travesty.”

Angry cries rose from the crowd. “But wait,” Seryth said. “It’s my right! My time! I was chosen!”

“You were chosen,” Myrrik said. “But the wraiths have changed their minds.”

“No! This must be a mistake…Try again!”

Myrrik inhaled sharply and screwed his nose. “You reek of the sun. Have you betrayed your kin?”

“No, I…” Seryth’s words trailed off as he remembered the meadow mage's life magic. He suddenly recalled the smell of the wind in Serena’s hair as she had worked on him, of the music in her innocent laughter, and the taste of the sun on her skin.

“What is to be done with him, my Lord?” Myrrik asked. “I fear keeping him here will vex the wraiths further. They might not elect another Transcendent until he is gone.”

Lord Vorn stood and said in a solemn voice. “Seryth, Umbra born, son of night. You are banished from the Vaults and are to never return.”

Seryth hung his head, as his world collapsed around him. When Seryth had gone, a council was called, and angry voices filled the air. Someone from
Verdance, from the sun lands, the world of light, had done this. Their sacred rite had been tarnished; the wraiths had been insulted. Lord Vorn, who had fought the light dwellers half a millennia ago, slammed his fist down on the stone. The treaty had been broken; the truce was at an end. Their light had polluted the Vaults, now the shadow would once again darken their fields.

Not until the next day that was, when reports of a shade elf hiding in Bracken Wood reached them.

“It must be him,” Serena said. “Seryth. We must take him in.”

“A shade elf?! Here, in Willow Reach!” the Elder said. “Unthinkable.”

“He was kind. He must be lost or in need of help. Please.”

After several minutes of whispering, the Elder nodded.

“Very well, the elf may enter. But he is your ward, Serena. Your responsibility.”
Serena nodded, excited at the thought of seeing Seryth again.

When Seryth entered Willow Reach accompanied by a group of armed meadow mages, Serena resisted the temptation to rush over and embrace him. She’d never thought to see him again. However, something was different. Seryth looked changed.

“Are you ok?” she asked.

Seryth spoke in a cold voice, looking down at the earth and away from the sun. “I come with a warning. My people believe you have broken the truce. They are coming to wage war.”

“What?!” the Elder exclaimed. “Ridiculous! We have done no such thing. We want no part of your dark magic.”

“Get the elf out of here, quickly before more harm is caused!” another meadow mage said.

“No. You haven’t done anything wrong,” Seryth explained. “On the contrary, I unknowingly carried some life magic into Umbra, and it corrupted the Transcendence, our most sacred ritual… This is my fault. I am sorry. I came only to warn you what my people might do. I do not intend to stay.”

“Serena, was this your doing?” the Elder hissed.

“No. I… I mean, I healed him, yes. He was gravely wounded. What else could I do? I wasn’t about to leave him there for the wolves.”

“That’s exactly what you should have done!” the Elder said. “You’ve broken the truce.”

“Look at the ground under his feet!” one of the guards who had escorted him cried.

Shadow swathed the shade elf like a cloak, the grass was wilting, flowers shriveling where his shadow was cast. “He is killing the land! Quick we must put an end to him,” the guard said, raising his spear.

“No!” Serena cried, putting herself between the spear and the elf. “Throw that spear and it will have to pass through me, first.”

Slowly, the mage lowered the weapon. The shadow retreated as long as Serena was standing beside the elf. Life was starting anew around them.

“Whatever it is, we must keep them together to stop his dark magic causing more damage. Lock them in a cage,” said the Elder.

“And then what, Elder?”

“Then we will offer them both as a sacrifice to the lords of Umbra, see if this curse can be lifted and war avoided.”

“I’m sorry to have come,” Seryth said quietly as he and Serena sat in the cage. “I did not want to get you into trouble. But I had to warn you that war was coming.”

“And I’m sorry I caused this.”

“You only did what you thought was right.”

“It’s in my nature to heal. It’s what we meadow mages do. I could no more leave you to die in a ditch than I could slaughter a sleeping doe.”

“I have doomed us both. My people will demand your head as a sacrifice. And if that does not lift the curse, they will go to war.”

“There may be another way,” Serena said.

“I’m listening.”

“The elders aren’t the most powerful ones here. There is a goddess in the old temple. A phoenix. Perhaps she will be able to lift the curse.”

“A phoenix?”

“Yes. She is who truly grants us our powers. Though none save the elders have ever looked upon her.”

“Well, they are hardly going to let a shade elf visit, are they?”

“By the time they find out we’re missing, we’ll almost be there,” Serena said.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard about us shade elves, but bending metal bars isn’t one of our powers.”

“Leave that to me,” she said. Serena fished a small vial out of her potion pouch. “This should do it.” She reached between the bars and poured a few drops on some vines that were growing across the ground. Instantly, they began to writhe and twist, weaving through the bars and bending them apart. Seryth’s mouth hung open, and Serena laughed.

The temple was five miles away, up a steep hill. As they climbed, they paused and looked back. A great shadow hung around the eastern slopes of the Arcanium Peaks, where Umbra Vault’s entrance lay.

“What’s that?” Serena asked. “Looks like the blackest of storms.”

“Lord Vorn will not delay. He wants to appease the wraiths immediately.”

“Then we have little time.”

“We have until dusk. They will not risk leaving the Vaults during daylight.”

“Hurry. It’s this way. I think.”

“You think?!”

“Yes. I mean, I’ve only ever seen the Elder ascending the hill from a distance. I don't know what she does when she gets up here.”

“The plan doesn’t sound that great, all of a sudden.”

“It was better than waiting in the cage for them to take our heads.”

“You’ve got a point.”

They hurried up the path. They arrived at the temple and spotted a large cage in a dark alcove. A brightly colored bird slept within. Its eyes snapped open, and they blazed with fire.

“A demon!” Seryth cried.

“No, not a demon,” Serena said, in wonder. “A phoenix.”

“You are not an Elder,” the phoenix said in a human voice that sounded inside their minds. “Nor is it your time to die. Why do you disturb my slumber?”

“No. I’m not,” Serena said. “But I am one of the meadow mages, and I come asking for help.”

“I sense a grayness about you. A half-light.”

“A half-light?”

“Yes, you neither wield the life magic I bestowed upon you, nor the shadow magic wielded by your companion’s kin. Instead, you have something betwixt.”

“It was my doing,” Serena said, bowing her head. “I tried healing the elf, but it infected him.”

“Your magics have mingled. There is nothing I can do for you.”

“Please!” Serena implored. “There is a war coming. We need your help.”

“Wars come, wars go. Just like the seasons.”

“Many people will die.”

The phoenix eyed them quietly for a time, before speaking.

“Anything,” Serena said. “We need to avoid this bloodshed.”

“Then this is what must be done. For the half-light curse to be lifted, one of you must kill the other.”

“What?” Serena said, astonished. “No, there must be another way.”

“War is the only other way. Now make your choice.”

Serena and Seryth sat on a stone in the long grass.

“I can’t do it,” she said, weeping. “I can’t kill you. My very existence is centered around life, light, and healing. I cannot cause death. Especially to one, I am so fond of…”

“Nor I, you. You saved my life. You do not deserve death. And I feel connected to you. I don’t know if it’s this half-light magic, or something more….”

“I feel it, too.”

Serena looked down and saw that they were holding hands. As they looked into each other’s eyes their new power grew. They leaned in and kissed, and in that instant the blades of grass bent away from them in a sudden pulse of magic; a powerful weaving of light and dark. When they sat back they were smiling. In the half-light they sensed the phoenix was hiding something. There was another way.

They approached the phoenix.

“We will not do as you have asked,” Serena said.

“Then many deaths will rest on your conscience, and the world will become a blend of dark and light. An everlasting grayness, impenetrable as a fog.”

“This is not true. There is something you are hiding from us.”

The phoenix glowed with fire, and for a moment they thought they had offended the goddess. But then she spoke.

“You have passed the test, Serena Half-Light. You alone, of your people, may know the truth.”

“The truth?”

“Yes. Do you wish it? It will be as much a curse, as it is a blessing.”

“If it will stop the war and save our lives, then yes.”

“I’m ready.”

“Very well. The elders come here, and I grant them powers. Powers they pass on to the mages.”

“Yes, our life magic, our power to heal. You bless the elders, and they bless us.”

“Correct. But that is not all I do. I grant them the power of rebirth.”

“Rebirth?”

“I am a phoenix. I am death and life. I am the circle. When you die, I bring you back. Like the seasons, the seeds which sprout and bloom, and scatter, and wilt, and sprout once more. You are all part of the greater life magic.”

“But why don’t we remember?”

“I bring your bodies back. Not your memories.”

“So, we have all lived before?

“Yes. Many times over.”

“Wait,” Seryth said. “Is that why I had a feeling we’d met?”

The phoenix nodded.

“Serena finding you on the mountain was no mere coincidence. She was drawn to that place, that day. You have indeed met before. Five hundred years ago.”

“I knew it,” Seryth said. “I knew we had some connection.”

“This is… unbelievable,” Serena said. “But how does it help us stop the war? How does that help us save our lives?”

“I think you already know the answer to that,” the phoenix said, flaring brightly in flame.

Down in the valley dusk was falling. The ranks of the shadow elf army were on the field. The meadow mages with their lanterns lit and spears raised stood ready to face them. It would be a brief but bloody battle. The shadow elves had the advantage. If the meadow mages could hold on until dawn, maybe the tide would swing in their favor, but there was a long night ahead. The shadow elves blew on their horns, and battle cries rose across the valley as the two armies began charging.

All of sudden, two figures emerged, standing on the battlefield between them, and the armies slowed to a halt.

“Seryth? What is the meaning of this?”

Lord Vorn cried, recognizing the banished elf.

“I’m here to stop this war. To lift the curse!” Seryth said, and he turned and plunged a knife into Serena’s heart. Serena gasped and dropped to her knees. A powerful wave of half-light magic swept out across the field, swirling like mist, and dissipating. The curse was lifted, and a sacrifice had been made. Seryth was on his knees, weeping, but his Lord seemed satisfied.

The two sides spoke briefly and agreed that the truce had been upheld. Lord Vorn looked upon Seryth. “You chose wisely. You may return with us, though you will never transcend. The wraiths will choose another when they see fit.” Seryth nodded and watched as his people turned and retreated to the mountain.

The phoenix had agreed to leave Serena’s memories intact, though she may never speak of this with any other. She alone would bear the weight of the memory of the past. Seryth promised to wait twentythree years until he found her again, to meet on the same day they had met.

On that day the first Half Light festival began, which is still celebrated to this day. The one night of the year when the moon is full, the shadow elves descend from Umbra and toast peace with the meadow mages. And it is said how Seryth and Serena met again. And again. Until the shadow elf’s natural death some 8oo years later.

Some say Serena still walks amongst us today, cursed by retaining her memory, doomed to repeat a never-ending cycle of lives with only the fading memory of Seryth. But others believe she made a deal with the phoenix to end her rebirth so she could finally be at peace and seek Seryth in another realm.