217 Origin

When Sunny realized that he was dreaming, the first thing that came to his mind was that there was another soul tree growing somewhere near the white arch. However, after a few moments of panic, he quickly dismissed this idea.

After all, he had never actually dreamt while under the mind hex of the ancient fiend. He had just mistaken the broken memories of his conversation with Cassie for a dream.

But this… this one was real.

The dreamscape that surrounded Sunny was ephemeral, shifting, and shrouded in shadows. Above him, the sun was like a circle of darkness, with crimson light drowning in a burning sea of clouds. However, none of that light reached him.

In the tenebrous hall of black marble, there was nothing but empty silence.

…Which was now destroyed by the sound of a baby crying, of course.

The woman's screams had long grown silent. Peering into the stygian depths of the dark marble hall, Sunny saw nothing but endless shadows. The baby's cries were coming from somewhere beyond them.

…Or from within them.

A subtle thought entered Sunny's mind. The monumental walls, the colossal columns, the grandiose hall… all of it looked strangely familiar. As though he had already been here once, a long time ago.

All that was missing were the signs of desolation and a large altar cut from a single block of black marble. In fact, it should have been standing right where the crying sounds were coming from.

Familiar words appeared in his mind, now full of new meaning.

'...Child of Shadows?'

In the next moment, everything disappeared.

***

The world was swaying. A seemingly endless surface of black stone was flowing past his vision, moving up and down.

…No, it wasn't the stone, but Sunny himself. He was the one swaying.

'Wh—what?!'

In fact, Sunny found himself in the body… of a toddler. He was currently held gently by a young woman who was walking down a long stone corridor, which was dimly lit by burning torches. Hence, the swaying.

The girl was very young, not older than Sunny himself — his actual body, that is. She was slender and exquisitely beautiful, with soft porcelain skin and long raven hair. The lissome beauty was dressed in a flowing silk tunic that left her delicate neck and shoulders exposed.

A black serpent was coiled around her arms and neck, its scales so intricately tattooed that sometimes, it seemed as though the creature was moving. Whoever marked the girl's skin with this image was a true genius of their craft. Sunny had never seen anything like it in the real world.

However, he had seen similar markings in a Nightmare.

…This was the mark of a slave who belonged to the Shadow God.

The young girl was a temple slave, just like he had been in his First Nightmare. The serpent coiled around her neck and arms served both as her collar and her shackles.

She was also the toddler's mother. Sunny could tell from the love with which she held the child and the quiet smile that appeared on her face every time she looked at him.

Sunny might have lost his own mother at a young age, but he still remembered that much, at least.

'If the mother is a slave, then the child is, too.'

Finally, Sunny began to understand what was happening to him.

The dream he found himself in did not belong to him. Instead, it belonged to the nameless temple slave whose role he had assumed during the First Nightmare.

The original child of shadows.

This vision was his memory.

***

Soon, the young girl entered a vast hall that was shrouded in darkness. Judging by the black marble walls, they were in another part of the ancient temple. Sunny couldn't see much of his surroundings, but he could somehow tell that they were underground.

In the center of the hall, seven tall braziers were burning with strange, pale flames. On the edges of light, motionless, stood a dozen or so people.

Sunny shivered, suddenly reminded of the silent shadows populating his Soul Sea. However, these were not ghosts, but humans. There were several other slaves, while the rest appeared to be priests.

To tell the truth, there was not a lot of difference between them. It seemed as though the servants of the Shadow God did not pursue opulence and status. In fact, many of the priests bore the same markings as the slaves, suggesting that they themselves had belonged to the temple once.

'What are they doing here? What is happening?'

Approaching one of the elder slaves, the young beauty entrusted the child to her. Separated from the warmth of his mother's chest, the toddler… Sunny… felt cold and scared. However, the older woman consoled him with gentle words, preventing the child from crying.

Then, she moved back to stand with the rest of the people gathered in the underground hall. Their faces were calm and solemn.

The young woman, meanwhile, slowly walked into the circle of light. Her movements were elegant, flowing, and graceful.

Stopping at the very center, she stood motionlessly between the seven pale flames, surrounded by seven shadows.

Sunny stared at the beautiful slave, feeling that something important was about to happen.

But… what?

As he became pensive and uneasy, a sudden sound broke the silence. It was the deep and reverberating ringing of a zither.

As the musical instrument sang, the slave girl suddenly moved.

As she did, her seven shadows moved with her.

'This… this is…'

With his eyes wide open, Sunny watched the young woman.

She was dancing.

The beautiful slave danced in the circle of light surrounded by impenetrable darkness, her every move full of indescribable grace and clear, but elusive purpose. Her young body was flexible and lithe, but also strong and trained as much as a warrior's. Her skill as a dancer was like that of a battle master.

It was mesmerizing.

The young woman weaved a beautiful pattern with her movements, their cadence and nature simultaneously firm and flowing, sharp and gentle, clear and unpredictable. She danced alone but also with seven partners, effortlessly controlling both her own body and the seven shadows cast by it.

At times, it was hard to tell which one of them was real.

Her dance was… insidious, shapeless, and everchanging.

Sunny froze.

He recognized these movements. They were the same as how his shadow moved.

This was the source and origin of the battle style he wanted to create

This was Shadow Dance…