More baskets of unwanted children, of all species, not just the unwanted races. Why do they keep putting them at my cave? We're not going to eat them. Oh well, I guess our army will just have to keep growing. What does my army do? We were founded by masters of the way of shadows. What we do is gently spread the teachings of the first sensei, and keep gathering more baskets. -- Anon Guest
They call the cave The Unwanted Mouth, and the three cities nearby use it as an unfortunate depository. They leave their unwanted children there. In baskets. In swaddling. Some of them sitting on a small bindle of their belongings. Many of the older ones wondering when they were going to be eaten.
Eaten. Ha!
Poor darlings. They soon learn that those who live in the Everdark don't eat people. They call us Dark because we live in the dark. They call us Deep because we live deep down. And they say all the nasty things about us. Including all the accusations you can think up.
These abandoned ones don't go to our cauldrons. They go to the Dojo. The name translates to Light Under Bushel and it's where an enemy showed us all the value of the forsaken.
Few know that the Art of Shadows began as a Hellkin ability. Their innate nature brought terror to the Faekindred, and made them largely Unwelcome everywhere they showed their horns. Long ago, such a one stumbled into the caverns and took in those we rejected.
That old Master, Kaer, taught them well. Taught them that none should be rejected, not even from the help they could render.
Unlike many sunsiders, those in the Everdark learn quickly that assumptions can be wrong. After all, acting on bad information can get you dead, fast. Unlike the sunsiders, we know that shadows don't have to be wicked. The Plane of Shadows may be the realm of dead souls, but that doesn't mean those who can use shadows are determined to make everyone else join it.
In the Everdark, every living soul is one more who can work to keep us all alive. An extra eye on the watch. An extra hand for the harvests. An extra set of feet at the mills, or for carting. There's no such thing as useless or unwanted here in the deeps.
The Master Kaer lived longer than they might have on the surface. Over a century. Their legacy lives with us still. In those they trained, and those they trained. Those who can use shadows like anyone else might use any other tool.
Hellkin, halfbred, Unwelcome, or simply unwanted, they all train in Light Under Bushel. They all become valued members of our hidden cities.
Do those above know what they do for us? Do they care? Our armies grow larger and larger. Not to attack the surface. Why would we want to be there? However, they're very useful when some sunsider decides to try and quell the threats they helped to make. Or decides to "save" the very children they left at our caverns to die.
As if we didn't have enough troubles with all the things that share the Everdark with us. Including other civilisations in the Everdark.
We have the Shadows to protect us, where none are Unwelcome.
[Photo by Raychan on Unsplash]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me. Or share them with your friends! Or visit my hub site to see what else I'm up to.
Send me a prompt [22 remaining prompts!]