“What has one to fear in the dark if they themselves are the whispering shadows and daunting fangs? To hold the hand of death is to lord control over life, and to befriend the heart of death is to intimately know mercy. For while darkness persists tenfold without light, the day itself becomes unbearable without the reprieve of night.

              “One cannot kill the other, and neither must they overtake each other. One witch to rule the day, another to rule the night, and side by side they will hold together the fabric of the universe. This is the oldest law of nature, and one that must not be overturned.” With shaking fingers, the mother pulled a soft black fur to the chin of her sleeping daughter. The babe stirred once, tucking her small thumb into her mouth.

              A tear rolled down the mother’s pale face as she beheld her child. “Almost like looking in a mirror.” Gently, she grazed her fingers over her daughter’s midnight black hair, the same shade as her own. “I have no doubt—” She choked on the emotion in her throat. “I have no doubt who and what you are.”

              Pressing her black lips to the babe’s forehead, she whispered a prayer to the moon, pleading that her daughter would one day understand why her mother left her in a crib and never returned.

              Heavy pounding on the door echoed the heart hammering inside her ribs. Time had run out. Anger flared through her veins. Her fingers tightened around the fur, her sharp nails piercing holes through its soft leather.

              A dark shadow scurried across the floor under the crib. The mother reached out to it, curling her fingers toward her, beckoning the shadow closer. A large black rat slunk from under the babe’s bed and stepped onto the woman’s hand.

              “Protection. I need protection,” she hissed softly.

              The rat’s anxious yellow eyes flitted back and forth between hers before softening. With slow movements, it lay down in her hands, baring its neck to her, knowing what she needed and what it must give.

              With practiced hands, she drew her knife and slit its throat. As its life force trickled down her fingers and wrist, she whispered thank you, before drawing a rune of protection on her daughter’s face with the blood. Outside, a wolf howled.

              The sound mingled with enraged screams on the other side of the door. A jumping spider with brilliant green eyes crawled out of the keyhole, having just shoved out the key. The pounding increased, flooding the halls alongside the growing sound of gathering guards.

              The mother bit her lip until she tasted blood, resisting the urge to sweep her baby into her hands and escape through the window. “Just a moment longer.” She touched a finger to her daughter’s chest as the babe awoke and began to cry. “They’re coming.”

              With deft fingers, she placed the rat’s still body on the open windowsill—an offering. Then the door flew off its hinges, crashing to the ground only inches away from crushing the crib.

              Arms wrestled the woman away from the window, pulling her hair, twisting her shoulders painfully. She didn’t give them the satisfaction of crying out.

              Shining light penetrated the room, scattering rainbows across the dark décor. Soft lips hissed into her ear, “I thought you were going to come peacefully, witch.”

              “And I thought you’d given me a chance to say goodbye, sister.”

              The woman scoffed, stepping into view. Her skin shown with an iridescent sheen; her eyes glowed with health and life; her hair sparkled brilliant white. The sight made the mother’s stomach curl.  

              “The days exist as illusion while nights bare all truths; the darkness knows all who hide inside it. Or have you forgotten the history of your kingdom already, Queen Aurina?” The title slid off the mother’s tongue like the lie it was.

              The woman of light spat on the ground. “Do not recite to me the old texts, witch. I was taught them the same as you.”

              “Then you’ll know I will follow peacefully as I promised. As I always intended. Peacefully and willingly.”

              With narrowed eyes, Aurina appraised her with disdain and disbelief. After a long moment with nothing but the child’s cries filling the silence, she finally nodded to the guards who quickly withdrew their hands. “Then leave.” She motioned to the door with a cruel smile.

              So the mother did. But not before she watched two golden eyes peer through the window, the predator gently taking the rat’s body into its sharp teeth. Hanging her head, she hid the determination in her eyes and grin on her lips. Carefully, she wrapped her cloak tighter around the mirror in her hand just as it caught the light of the moon, casting it into the wolf’s yellow eyes.

              Until her daughter realized her place in the universe and the power in her flesh and blood, Aurina’s light would continue to burn their kingdom with its lies and delusion.

              But every sun had to set, every day must come to an end.

              Night was inevitable.