Page 7 of Beasts of Shadows #1

The Legend of the Hag

(Filed under: cautionary tales and pantheon politics).

In the early days of civilization, Calea—who would later become known as the Hag—sought romantic partnership in many forms. Immortality, however, does not guarantee fertility.

Age had slowed her, and though she bore few children, most did not survive.

The rare offspring that made it to birth were often still malformed or unfit for divine lineage, and were…

removed, in the interest of keeping the bloodlines pure.

So, instead of birthing heirs, Calea turned to adoption. Through a string of strategic marriages and conquests, she amassed a broad and loyal collection of successors, stretching her empire across the known world.

Her second husband was Shiva, a river god of considerable influence. Together, they submerged the world in devotion, cultivating widespread worship centered on Calea’s image. But power, once established, often invites ambition. Shiva eventually overreached—attempting to claim rule for himself.

Calea responded with efficiency. She bound him to the Ganges River, the very place he held most sacred.

She moved on—to Bale, a Phoenician god known for his charm and elusive nature. Calea claimed to love him. Deeply, even. But they never married.

Bale, observant and pragmatic, understood history. He knew what had become of the others. So he forged a quiet bargain with her father, Thantos.

In exchange for his own survival, Bale offered a future daughter—as bride to the god of death. A small price, in theory. Especially since, thanks to Macha’s curse, he believed he was incapable of producing children at all.

Spoiler: he was wrong.

→ [Note to self: Bale. That name feels familiar. Possibly linked to one of the older death cult lineages or early warding charms? Look into Phoenician variants and any recurring mortal ties. Could be relevant to Nari’s vision pattern.]

—Reema

P.S. I’ve flagged this one as relevant as it may relate to current events.

∞∞∞

“Let’s go, dickhead!” Someone calls. “I’m freezing my titties off.”

Reema sits up and exchanges a knowing look with Cody.

“Cat,” Cody sighs, rising and heading back into the kitchen.

“Your other cousin, it seems,” Reema says to me with a light smile. “She’s a freshman, as well.”

The resemblance between Cody and our new companion is undeniable. Carved from ice—both of them. Except this girl has luminous green eyes—appropriate to her namesake. Her mane is wild and snow-white. It makes her an easy target, and I can’t help but wonder how she’s made it this long.

She juts her hands upon her hips, looking me up and down.

“You saved some hoochie mama over me ?” Cat glares.

“You’re hard to kill,” Cody replies.

“Reems, too? What sort of unholy alliance is this? I get stuck playing ‘Keep Away’ with Nikolai, while you’re out here having a threesome!”

“ Gross ,” Reema and I chorus. Cody smirks.

“Cat, Nari. Nari, this is my baby sister from another mister, Cat.” He gives an absent wave that makes the rampaging girl speechless. If this whole situation wasn’t so grim and bizarre, I’d laugh.

“You found her?”

“Pried her from the jaws of a pack of shadow people,” Cody retorts.

“Don’t be so ambitious,” Reema scoffs. “All he did was pull her out of the water.”

“Good thing he got to you first, then. I can’t swim for shit.” Cat stops in front of me, looking me up and down. “Welcome to the family. Such that it is.”

“Thanks?”

She falls onto the couch. “I don’t know what you did to piss Nikolai off, but it took for ever to reroute him.”

“Nikolai is the one who followed me, right?”

Cody nods. “He’s a first year. Dangerous. Probably already hates you.”

“Why?”

“Who knows? He’s powerful enough that the deities took an interest in him. Raised him in the Shadow Realm alongside them. He’s gotta have divine energy somewhere. Not a demigod, of course, since gods can’t have kids. But a nephilim, perhaps?”

“The bottom line is—he thinks he’s better than everyone. And, unfortunately, he has the authority to back it,” Cat retorts. “Can’t say why he was so interested in you , though.”

A scream lights up the night.

The teasing stops.

It’s sobering, reminding me that even though I will probably survive into tomorrow, a lot of others didn’t.

Why me? What might the gods have in store for someone who never aspired to be in their world?

Reema fiddles with the loose curtains, before dragging them shut completely.

“We should get some sleep.” Her words are light, cautious.

“You three take the bed.” Cody shoo’s Cat off the couch. “I’ll keep an eye out here.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” I reply, thinking again of what memories I may accidentally see in there.

As we go our separate ways, I’m still not sure if I trust them. But I’m alive. I’m breathing. And maybe, just maybe, I want to see what comes next.

I curl deeper into the borrowed blanket and close my eyes.

∞∞∞

I don’t sleep, not really. I’m too lost in my memories of Ravi and everything that happened last night.

My body shuts down before dawn, but my mind races through half-formed fears and saltwater ghosts.

When the sun finally splits through the trees, I’m already sitting up, legs crossed on the warped floor, blanket clutched tight around my chest.

Task one: complete. I guess we’ll see what today brings.

The others stir slowly—Cat mumbling about the “Squirrel Conspiracy” in her sleep, Reema already pulling her hair back with effortless grace, and Cody staring blankly out the window like it holds all the secrets the gods won’t tell.

“Morning,” I say, voice rough.

Cody doesn’t look at me. “Welcome to day two.”

“Any more massacres on the horizon?” I stretch, twisting my neck.

“You and Cat will report to the school gates and get your assignments. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything until the next full moon. As long as you’re not majoring in warfare, like Cat.”

“Catshis are the first line of defense in Egypt,” Reema adds. “Ceridwen made a deal with Bastet after NapoRavin. They all have a ten-year military service obligation to her and the Nile after graduation.”

I mull that over, wondering why Cody doesn’t have the same obligation if they’re siblings. But I focus on the more pressing question.

“They do this every month?”

“Only if you volunteer. Some of the more…bloodthirsty creatures need to hunt, and the full moon is the designated day to do it,” Cody supplies.

“Let’s get you back,” Reema says, coming up behind me.

∞∞∞

The walk to campus is silent. Reema and Cody peel off halfway across the grounds to return to their dorms, leaving Cat and I to limp our way up to the wrought iron gates.

Everyone we encounter moves at the same crawl, waiting for another attack.

Van Ritten looms ahead—barbed, blackened, and cold as judgment. The gates don’t look like an entrance. They look like a warning.

I stop just short of the threshold. Cat gives me a startled eye, but keeps walking into the arms of a guard. It’s the same girl who took my name at roll call. Ruiz . She must be a friend of theirs. Maybe more.

The path beneath my feet is littered with dried blood. The gate hasn’t even opened yet, and already I feel like I’ve failed some invisible test.

I shouldn’t be here. I take in the figures limping beside me. A girl with an axe in her hand and face stone cold. A boy covered in grime and blood—maybe even his own—trying to wipe his face clean.

These kids earned their spot.

I cheated .

Swallowing comes harder. Especially when I catch sight of the dump truck bouncing down the road, a random arm and aqua bracelet dancing over the side. How many of my kind died last night?

I should be there with them.

I didn’t earn it. I didn’t outrun anything. I didn’t outwit the test or master some hidden gift. I barely stayed conscious. If Cody hadn’t shown up when he did…

I’d be in a bag like the rest of them.

And now I’m supposed to walk through this gate like I belong here? Like I’m not a fraud padded in other people’s courage?

The iron groans as it slowly opens, grudging and slow.

Behind me, something shifts in the air.

“You’re not hesitating,” a voice cuts through the mist, low and venom-laced. “You’re just smart enough to realize you don’t belong.”

I turn—and there he is.

The predator from last night.

The one Cat called Nikolai.

Perched lazily atop one of the stone gateposts like a gargoyle, or a god who finds gravity beneath him. His hair is damp, curling darkly at the edges, and his eyes… those unnatural, glacial eyes pin me in place like I’m something to be dissected.

I didn’t notice it before, because I was too busy running away, but he is unreasonably, dangerously gorgeous.

Not in the soft, safe way some boys are. Not like Cody. No. Nikolai is the kind of beautiful that hurts to look at—like he was sculpted for worship. Every angle is sharp, deliberate. A blade in human form, dressed in shadow and silver.

The wind catches the hem of his dark shirt as he drops from the post, silent and smooth, like gravity’s just a mild suggestion. He lands like a creature used to falling from high places.

Gods, he moves like he doesn’t walk on ground so much as claim it.

And then there are his eyes. They’re not just green—they’re that strange, impossible shade the ocean turns in Monterey right before a storm. Seafoam and steel. Beautiful, but cold. Like water that’s never been warm a day in its life.

They remind me of standing barefoot on wet sand, watching waves roll in with something hungry beneath them. That split second before the undertow drags you under.

That’s what looking at Nikolai feels like.

Like drowning in a place I thought I knew.

His stare is ancient in a way that doesn’t belong to someone who’s barely my age. Those eyes don’t just see me. They invade. They peel back skin. Like he already knows what I am and doesn’t find it impressive.

His clothes are black, of course. Not school-issued—tailored. Sharp lines, open collar, the glint of a chain at his throat.

Everything about him is effortless. And terrifying. And unfairly attractive.

I hate that I notice.

I hate that he knows I notice.

And I really hate that, deep down, some wild, reckless part of me wonders what it would feel like to be chosen by someone like him.

Even if it means being devoured.

“I was wondering when the charity case would make it up the hill,” he says, bringing my attention back. “Though I suppose the fact that you’re here at all says more about Van Ritten’s standards than yours.”

I narrow my eyes. “I survived.”

“Did you?” He tilts his head, mock-curious. “I heard you drowned. Choked. Got dragged out like a wet dog.”

Heat rises in my face, but I don’t move. I won’t give him the satisfaction of shrinking.

“You didn’t pass the assessment,” he continues. “You were rescued. That makes you a liability. And I don’t trust liabilities.”

I clench my fists. Because he’s right, damnit. Maybe he’s reading my mind. Maybe that’s what gives him an edge over the rest of us. Either way, I hate hearing my own misgivings tossed about for anyone to hear.

“Good thing I’m not asking for your trust.”

He chuckles, soft and slow, like it’s physically painful for him to find mortals amusing.

“You’re temporary.” His voice drips with disdain. “Soft. Breakable. You can’t be trusted not to die mid-sentence. And yet here you are, being handed a seat at the table like it’s a pity invitation to a funeral.”

I flinch, just a little.

“You think because someone let you in, you’re safe?” He steps closer, and I have to fight the urge to step back. He’s too close now—close enough I can smell smoke and leather and something metallic.

“You’re not safe,” he murmurs, voice lower. “You’re just tolerated. For now.”

His gaze drops—just slightly—to my mouth. Then to my neck.

I know that look. It isn’t hunger. It’s evaluation. A predator deciding which part will scream the loudest when it’s torn open.

But it makes something in me stir. Not out of fear. Out of defiance.

“What do you want from me?” I snap. “You want me to leave? Bow down? Beg you to let me breathe?”

He laughs at that—low, sharp. “You wouldn’t know how to bow if your life depended on it. That’s your problem.”

“Guess I’ll just keep breathing, then,” I mutter.

He steps even closer. Close enough that our shadows touch.

His voice lowers, wicked now. “Is that what this is? Breathing?”

He lifts one hand—not to touch me, not quite. Just to brush the air an inch from my jaw.

“You look like you’re suffocating.”

I refuse to react. I won’t give him the flinch.

“I want you to understand your place,” he says. “That way, when you inevitably fall apart, no one’s surprised.”

I clench my fists. “You done?”

“Not even close,” he says with a smile like frostbite—painful, and nothing warm about it. “But I’m bored.”

He turns, then. Just walks away. Like I’m not worth the ruin I know he could cause.

Saunters through the gates like he owns the world.

Maybe he does. Cody never explained what kind of creature he is. He’s not a god, I know that much, although he was raised alongside them.

I watch him disappear into the courtyard shadows, pulse thudding like a bruise beneath my skin.

I don’t have anything to say back. Not really.

Because I’m still standing here, on the wrong side of the line between survivors and saviors. Between mortals and monsters.

And for the first time, I wonder if maybe I didn’t survive after all.

Maybe I’m just a ghost, like Ravi, who got let in by mistake.

But Nikolai saw me.

And something in him liked what he saw. Even if he plans to break it.