Chapter One
Shiv and Bow
Bow Bohurst had grown up hearing the legendary story of Knife Bohurst. His family still lived on the very same land where Knife had built the first Shadow Confectionary. Over the years, they had added to and rebuilt some of the old building, making the Bohurst Confectionary a beautiful blend of traditional and innovative. Time had not diminished the family name of Bohurst. It continued to be the finest place to get Umbra Sweets. His family even specialized in the rarest sweets available, since their bloodline harbored some of the most talented Confectioners in history.
That was the first thing Bow thought of when he heard a knock at the front of the shop after they had already closed up. The Bohurst Confectionary was on the outskirts of Riftenshire, on a little hill beyond a short stretch of dense woods. The city was not safe after dark, but the area about the Confectionary was even more dangerous, so whatever soul was calling at the touch of twilight had to be a seeker of something quite dire and most rare.
Going to his window, Bow had an awkward view of the man at the front. Tall as his brother, dressed in a long dark coat, Bow’s interest peaked as he caught a flash of metal and red. Hearing his brother hesitantly open the front door, Bow tiptoed to the stairs that separated the shop and the house. Peering down at the stranger below, he had been right. The visitor was a young Weiriman. Rare, gifted and almost like anonymous celebrities, the heavily trained exorcists were well respected and revered. Everyone had a Haunting Weir that kept demons out of their minds and souls but the Weirimen were the only ones who could manipulate, clear and close a Weir that had been invaded. Umbra Sweets were often used in those tasks.
Even knowing that, Bow could tell just by the serious conversation and late hour of the Weiriman’s visit, that this was far more serious than most needs of the Weirimen. The Bohursts saw much business from the multiple Haunted Weir Workings professions. Weirimen, Blackenmancers, Pitch Threaders, and many more, in addition to regular folk, traded in Umbra Sweets. But the Bohursts were one of the few that people would travel for miles to find. Their quality and selection was unmatched.
Bow listened as his older brother, Shiv-Blu, gave the stranger a rare sweet and another he recognized and dealt with daily. He wanted to know what ailed the Weiriman, and wanted to be part of what was happening but he stayed quiet and hidden. He knew Shiv would dismiss him and send him back to bed. Bow was to have no real dealings with the delicate parts of the business yet, and it had nothing to do with his age.
It was normal for a Confectioner to exhibit abilities as early as eleven years old. Twelve was the most common. In rare cases it might not show until early thirteen. Shiv had been a prodigy, one of the youngest to manifest the talents at age nine. Bow had just begun his sixteenth year and his eyes remained brown. All Confectioners had either purple or orange eyes when their abilities bloomed. Every morning had become a painful ritual of Shiv checking his little brother’s eyes for change and everyday it passed with silent disappointment that Bow’s talent would likely never manifest.
Hate did not accurately describe how Bow loathed it. He wanted nothing more than to be a great Confectioner like Shiv, like their mother before them. Even their father had some talent, though it was their mother who was of the Bohurst line. With Saber Bohurst missing and presumed dead for the last six years, and their father buried since Bow was three, it had been up to a young Shiv to take care of and raise Bow, as well as run the Confectionary. Bow hated that he turned out to be just another dark disappointment in their family’s history.
The Weiriman was leaving and Bow rushed back to his window to watch him go. Those talented in the ways against demons always fascinated the talentless teenager. He wanted so much to be a part of those who stood against the evil, but he was little more than a glorified errand boy and assistant to Shiv’s grand business. He ground his teeth as the Weiriman’s form disappeared into the dense forest between them and town.
Bow’s hands gripped the windowsill, unnamed anger swelled within him. He knew morning would come and his eyes would still be brown, his powers unsurfaced if they were there at all. He wished he could be more than the useless thing he was. Eyes boring into the falling night, he stared at the trees just beyond the clearing of their home and suddenly something moved. Bow leaned back a little, startled. Squinting his eyes, he looked out again wondering if it had been an animal.
Just beyond the light of the shop, a tall genderless shadow stretched out long next to the shadows of the trees. As Bow gazed at it, he became alarmed. The shadow did not appear to be stemming from anything. At that angle he should have been able to see the figure the shadow was attached to. Almost as if it knew Bow had seen it, the thing moved, melting into the darkness of the trees around it.
Confused and afraid, the boy looked again, hoping he had been wrong and there had been a person out there somehow casting the shadow. But the night was quiet and dark. The only other person that had been at the Bohurst Confectionary that evening was gone. Bow hated being afraid. Without abilities he could do nothing against the darkness in the world. He was not like their ancestors, nothing like his brother. He was just a boy, gazing out at shadows, feeling a fear he could neither suppress nor conquer. If a Shadow Man came for him, he would have nothing but his brother’s candy to protect him. They could easily claim a Bohurst life, regardless of the fact that Knife’s blood flowed thickly through Bow’s veins. He wondered if he would always be afraid of the bedtime story of Knife Bohurst and the Shadow Men cult.
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