The Sky Kingdom—a parallel realm that existed hidden in the planet’s sky—was in disrepair when the High Spirits returned to it. Left unattended for a decade and a half, things had grown dusty and unpleasant. A once regal decorum now appeared dull, grey, and outright filthy. Amah immediately began cleaning her private chamber. She dusted and reorganized her living space diligently, eager to return things to normal. As she was cleaning, a knocking came upon her chamber door. She approached and slid the doorway open, only to find Tsu—likely taking a rest from reorganizing his chambers—at her door. “The others are waiting in the main chamber,” he told her.

“Already? That was quick,” the Sun Spirit replied. “Can they wait for a bit? I’d like to make this place a touch more presentable.”

Tsu shook his head. “They’re insisting that we meet immediately,” the Moon Spirit replied. “Sarhu and Suhs especially.”

Amah glanced back at her half-cleaned chamber, then back at her brother. “Tell them I’ll be there in a minute,” she replied, annoyed.

“Very well.” Tsu turned to depart.

After shutting the door, Amah walked over to a small writing desk in a far corner of her chamber. An old painting that hung over it had fallen from the wall during her absence, she noticed. Picking up the canvas, she dusted it off with her hands. The artwork was of her standing on the edge of a field with three dogs—two of them Buhunds, the third a pure white dog of no pedigree. She smiled to herself, as a brief feeling of nostalgia washed over her. With a sigh, she set it down on the writing desk and turned to leave the room. I’ll have plenty of time to go through my happy memories later, she thought.

As she made her way into the palace’s main chamber, she noticed an overwhelming number of Spirits waiting for her—be they simple Spirits, Arch Spirits, or High Spirits. Suhs, the High Spirit of Storms and the Ocean, stood at the front of the crowd waiting for her. He did not look happy.

“Have you been waiting long, brother?” Amah asked.

“Nay. But time is of the essence,” Suhs replied. “Many of the High Spirits have a particularly pressing concern regarding the aftermath of this whole ordeal.”

Sarhu, the High Spirit of the Earth and of Roads, stepped forward. His thick beard and comically long nose made his fierce eyes seem much less fierce than they would be without. He looked intensely concerned, nonetheless. “As you know, my leige, when the Witch of the Iron Chains imprisoned the celestial bodies and reduced you, Tsu, Ho, and Shi to mere consciousnesses, the rest of the Spirits fell into a deep and involuntary sleep,” he continued. “Without our magic present, many of the wards we’ve placed upon the planet, let alone the country of Prithvi, have been severely weakened. Some have completely faded.”

“I’m painfully aware,” Amah replied. “The only problem being that Tsu and I have not returned to our full strength since the Sun and Moon were freed. We can’t attempt to reaffirm our most powerful wards until we do.”

“You’d risk letting the tectonic seal fade?” Sarhu interjected angrily.

“I would rather not,” she replied, cross at his audacity. “However, I used a great deal of my strength extracting ‘Queen’ Reanja’s magic and destroying it. That youth spell she’d affirmed herself with made it all the more difficult to get a grip on her magical powers. We will just have to hope the ward holds until my strength returns.”

“She is correct,” Tsu added with an annoyed sigh. “Affirming the tectonic seal’s ward right now would drain too much of our strength. You’re trying to squeeze blood out of a stone, Sarhu.”

The Earth Spirit fumed. “But, the risk—”

“We are aware of the risk!” Amah said, cutting him off. “As I’ve already said, there isn’t much we can do. And besides, the ward is far from gone. I can still sense that it has not faded. The world is safe for now, and we will reaffirm the ward as soon as we have the strength to do so!”

Sarhu stood silent. “Understood, Amah-sama.”

“Good,” she said, with a touch of exhaustion in her tone. “Are there any other pressing concerns?”

“There are, if you’d be so kind, my dear daughter,” a male voice said.

Amah turned her gaze to a male Spirit in the crowd, who stood in ancient armor and robes. By his side stood a female, dressed similarly. She recognized them as Igah, the High Spirit of Life, and Imah, the High Spirit of Death—her father and mother, respectively.

“Then share your concern, if you’d be so kind, my honorable Father,” the Sun Spirit replied.

Igah stepped past Suhs and Sarhu, motioning for Imah to follow him. “Per the agreement of all the High Spirits, we’ve begun recalling everyone and everything lost to the days of the empty sky from the Fields of Beyond, and returning them to the realm of life. The ones who were befallen by unnatural deaths in the areas where the world faded to Nothingness, specifically,” the Spirit of Life explained. “We are somewhat fearful that many of them will not be able to accept a second life, but we are proceeding as scheduled. Everything is going according to plan, except for a few minor discrepancies …”

Imah looked to her husband, then to Amah. “We’ve found quite a few souls missing. Human and otherwise,” the Spirit of Death said. “The Ledger of the Dead does not lie when a life is lost, the name and details of their demise are clearly marked. As such, we’re greatly concerned. We have no new inductees to the Spirit Order, so logically all of the lost souls should have gone to the Fields of Beyond.”

“Do you have any idea where they might’ve gone?” Tsu asked.

“We’ve found a common factor, but not a clear answer to the mystery,” Igah replied.

Imah snapped her fingers, summoning forward a tall figure in a robe. The figure carried a large farming scythe by its side, and a large tome under its left arm. Skeletal hands took back its hood, revealing a bare skull with glowing eyes. “Grim, what was the cause of death for all the missing souls?” Imah asked.

Opening the book, the skeleton retrieved several pieces of parchment from inside. “I made a list of all of the missing souls. They all have the same cause of death: consumed by a Bogba’el,” it said.

The golden glow drained from Amah’s face. “This is not a good omen.”

###

Far underneath the country of Prithvi, time had become a concept Reanja and the earl no longer used. Although, she was certain that they hadn’t been in the caverns long. Her brat of a son clung to her side constantly as they traversed the vast cave system, annoying her greatly. She felt disgraced, searching for food like one of the peasants she’d kept in the dark outside for the entirety of her rule. A fitting punishment it might be, she did not appreciate her imprisonment. At the very least, they could’ve sealed the young earl in a separate cave system from her and saved her some bother.

Their search for a way out, let alone food, had proven fruitless. She sat down upon a rock to rest, exasperated by their search.

“Mommy, I’m hungry! Why can’t you find us some food?” the young earl whined.

“Christopher, be quiet,” she said, whacking him in his fat face with the lantern the Spirits had given her as a pity gift. “If we’re going to be trapped down here for the rest of our natural lives, then I’d appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut.”

Such an insolent child, isn’t he? a voice sounded in her head.

“Who’s there?” she replied, looking around.

Dim the light, if you could be a dear. It hurts our eyes, the voice replied.

She reluctantly removed her silk shawl and draped it over the lantern to partially dim the light. As the light dimmed, a snow-white face became apparent in front of her in the darkness. It looked as if it had no gender, and where the whites of its eyes would be were jet black. Its irises glowed like flames, matching its blood-red lips. So much better. Thank you, dearie.

The being moved its lips to speak, but it was as if the words travelled directly into her mind, rather than bothering to travel through the air as sound. Its words entered the mind intrusively, feeling unwelcome and unwanted as they were spoken.

“Who … what, are you?” Reanja asked, feeling terrified for the first time in decades as she did.

Us? We’re just a poor, unfortunate soul. A discarded shadow that only wants to be seen, it said. We’ve been down here for thousands of years. It’s only been for the past fifteen years that we could see what’s happening on the surface, though. I think we have you to thank for that, dearie.

“Me to thank?” the deposed queen replied. “What did I do to help you?”

The being snickered in a way that made her skin feel like it was about to crawl right off her body. We were trapped here, long ago. We could not see or hear. Then when you plucked the light from the sky, we became aware again. Over time, the force that binds us here became thin, all thanks to the smothering darkness that spread across the land.

Reanja attempted to back away from the being, immediately wanting to be out of its presence.

We watched, you know. You were doing well until Amah’s dog friend made her way into your castle. Personally, we would’ve done away with her immediately … but you didn’t think of that. Now you’re down here with us.

“Get away from me,” she screamed, finally unnerved by the being.

The specter caressed her face with a bony white hand. Don’t fear us, dearie. We have you to thank. We’re free now, it said with a wide, horrifying grin. And we won’t let Amah or that troublesome Buhund get in our way.

Next Chapter: (Book 2) Prologue - Spitz and the Sparrow