Ambient sounds courtesy of tosha73 and EminYILDIRIM
Greetings to those below. I am Death, though you would do well to call me Azrael. I admit, I am being a little picky with respect these days, but it’s only because once again we have come to this ridiculous notion of undead. Corpses running around and escaping me? Hmph. The idea is still laughable. But, I suppose it’s all in good fun. Certainly there is some amusement in our topic today.
Unlike the vati, who have beauty going for them, shades are an entirely different variety of undead. That’s what you get when undine scribes run out of ways to make beautiful undead interesting. They start changing it, asking questions like, “But what if they were ugly? What if this whole being dead thing was a tad more realistic?” That’s where the rotting idea came in, I expect.
Summary
↓↓ Me Apparently Being Bad At My Job ↓↓
by cromaconceptovisual from Pixabay
nce again, the basic concept behind shades is implying I am bad at—ahem. The basic concept behind shades is corpses risen from the dead. By “risen,” I, of course, mean reanimated. Shades are shadows of their former selves, hence the term. Unlike the vati, whose tales describe beautiful, elegant blood drinkers, shades are what would happen more realistically if a dead body began walking around. The romantic elements of the vati quite quickly disappear. Exhumed and exposed to the elements, shades rot in the sun. They shamble, decay, and crumble, yet somehow stay together enough to be a threat. Also, unlike vati, shades are mindless, a state of being that leads to their singular . . . “passion” . . . you might say. If a corpse can have a passion.
Because Sithuwaye elves are so cerebral in their existence, and because it was originally thought shades were risen Sithuwaye, this inspired the idea that shades possess a unique hunger to reacquire their former selves—to reconnect to their lost minds. In effect, they desire to no longer be shades. But in their mindlessness, this hunger manifests the only way it can and becomes driven by animalistic, baser impulses. Existential hunger translates to literal hunger, and the longing for one’s former mind becomes the longing for just . . . minds.
In short, they eat brains.
I do believe in the land of elsewhere there is a similar legend called a zombie, but zombies, as far as I understand, do not have any great desires or even a reason to eat brains. Shades do. Shades are hollow. Shades are desperate. It is almost sad when you put it that way, and I do admit that while I must scoff at this notion of undead as my nature demands, same as the vati, I can see how these stories are compelling entertainment for the Orostian people.
Historical Basis
by J. L. Gryphon via Artbreeder
Unlike the vati, legends of shades truly did begin in 1792 MS with the unexplained appearance of the Zurrinaih elves. Which means, also unlike the vati myths which had an earlier inspirational source, Zurrinaih elves
are the direct inspiration for shades—with a little Sithuwaye elf thrown in for good measure.
When the Zurrinaih first began appearing, no one knew who or even what they were other than elves with gray, corpse-like skin. This confusion led many to believe Sithuwaye elves, the only kind of elf to exist during that time, had somehow risen from the grave. As the Zurrinaih elves increased in number with alarming speed, many began fearing there was some sort of growing plague. Of course, eventually it was determined the Zurrinaih were not a plague and were simply a new group of people to include in the “Those Who Came After” list, but I imagine this fear did inspire the stories Orostians tell today where great hoards of shades overwhelm entire cities in an apocalypse scenario.
Another interesting development from the shade myths is the eventual colloquial name for Zurrinaih elves. Most people, if not all, refer to Zurrinaih as “shade-elves,” whereas the term Zurrinaih is used only if one desires to speak formally of the people as a whole. Calling a Zurrinaih a shade-elf is not viewed as offensive, and in fact, saying “shade-elf” is so common, most would not think anything of it unless someone pointed out the name’s origins. Even most Zurrinaih refer to themselves this way, and again, most would not think of or care where the name originally came from.
That said, perhaps it would be seen less favorably in the land of elsewhere since, at least there, saying “shade-elf” would equate to saying “zombie-elf,” which is amusing, I do admit, but definitely less . . . complimentary. In truth, it is the mythical vati who resemble the Zurrinaih much more on account of their beauty and alluring qualities, to the point that perhaps it would be better to call the Zurrinaih “vati-elves” rather than “shade-elves,” but ah well. History and language do both love to confuse things, don’t they?
Variations & Impact
Spread
by J. L. Gryphon via Inkarnate
ll in all, though, once the real panic had passed and people began to understand the Zurrinaih were not actually brain-eating monsters or beautiful blood drinkers, the stories of shades became much more fun and took on a life of their own. But while shades were popular, they were nowhere near as popular as vati. This led writers, poets, and the like to push the idea to new and greater heights. We got new kinds of shades, the rules for them changed, until one undine writer by the name of Voya va Morsé—Voya meaning “walk,” va meaning “of the,” and Morsé meaning “dead”—got the brilliant idea to change one key feature. What if a mindless shade finally regained what they hungered for? What if they once again became . . . intelligent?
Revenants
by ArtTower from Pixabay
ere we have the birth of the revenant, a modification of the original shade myth that saw an undead corpse actually succeed in its one wish and regain its former mind. You must understand the Orostians traditionally understand the mind to be equivalent to the soul. Essentially, then, if a shade were to regain his or her mind, then a soulless husk would have just succeeded in his or her “spirit” reentering their body. What an awakening that must be. And how horrifying. Because while they may have succeeded in restoring their mind, this would of course do nothing to repair their body. Thus, the revenant becomes even more tragic than the shade, and the tale takes on a “be careful what you wish for” lesson. The revenant, cursed with knowledge, is trapped forever to wander in the rotting body it possessed as a shade until, awake and aware throughout, it finally diminishes to dust.
This new idea, of course, led to great fun for undine writers and storytellers, because the level to which a revenant could be decayed was endless. Some revenants, beginning as shades, were fortunate enough to consume a brain that restored their sentience early on in the desiccation process. This meant they still mostly looked like themselves amidst being dead, which then allowed them to accomplish some “unfinished business” or the classic “chance to say goodbye” tear-jerker tragedy that always seems to sell well.
Then, of course, you might have revenants that are no more than skeletons. Maybe bits of flesh still hang off of them. For flavor, of course. Decaying that far tends to inspire villainy, or at least that’s the pattern I’ve noticed in the various tales I’ve deigned to read. Eventually even the skeleton turns to dust, and readers mourn yet another defeated, yet beloved villain.
But even revenants, too, eventually reached the bottom of the creative well, and . . . ah dear.
Liches
by Yuri_B from Pixabay
here do I begin with liches? They are another modification of the shade myth, and they build on the revenant, as well. In fact, many of the revenants who decayed to skeletons were later reimagined as liches. The idea behind
that variety is said revenant figured out how to stall their decay and acquired great power as a result. However, it . . . well, a lich is different in one key area. While a revenant is simply a shade who succeeded in restoring his or her mind to horrifying effect, a lich does not necessarily need to begin its undead, uh, “life” as a shade. Some liches do begin this way and graduate up the ranks if you will, but some jump straight to the top. Alive, then . . . lich. Those give even me a chill.
The thing with liches is—especially the ones that skip ahead and become liches instantly—they all somehow manage to acquire supernatural powers before they die. You must understand magic does not exist on Orosta, so of course tales of sorcerers and spell-chanting are quite popular. And yes, in many stories, a person may stumble across their magic powers via some special plant, a mutant spider, or whatever else the writer invents to facilitate the plot. Typically the lich-to-be is on a quest for immortality when he or she stumbles across this plot device, after which they do achieve their goal, but at the cost of living as an eternal corpse.
However, the other thing with liches is they are intelligent. Vastly intelligent. Perhaps even more so than a vati unless the individual vati is very old. And because liches are dead, they are not bound by the fragility of life. In fact, even other undead are more “alive” than them. They do not need to feed like a vati, they do not hunger with baseless need like their shade underlings, and they do not rot away to eventual dust like revenants. They stay. They . . . linger. They simply exist with terrifying insight . . . forever. They lurk in dark places, of course, and in order for the story not to end immediately upon engaging one, the writer typically invents some sort of reason why the lich can be defeated.
However,
I do not like liches. They . . . well, you know what they say about gazing into the void. Gaze too long, and it begins to gaze back. And liches, well . . . let’s just say it’s all fun and games until fiction mirrors reality. Until fiction starts giving real things . . . ideas.
Cultural Reception
by Pete Linforth from Pixabay
ll this to say, tales of shades are quite popular on Orosta, and, as demonstrated, they do provide a wealth of variation for the starving artist to draw upon. While the vati are still more popular on Orosta as I mentioned before, if only because sex does and will always sell, I don’t expect shades will be fading from the limelight any time soon. Because as much as we might enjoy that alluring darkness, there is that macabre allure as well, that little lizard in your brain that just enjoys seeing something go squish.
For my part, if I had to choose, I do think I agree with most Orostians and do prefer the vati. But, for me, it is because vati are charming. Because vati are so often the caged songbird you can fall in love with amidst the fangs, and I do admit I am a romantic at heart who likes a bit of danger. But also because vati have managed to stay fun through the centuries. Shades, though . . . I don’t know. Perhaps they just hit a little too close to home for me.
Ideas breeding ideas.
Hmph. I know. I’m being vague, but that is because I hope you never will discover what I mean. That said, I expect you will in time. So then, just like the revenant, be careful in your search for knowledge. You may not like what you find. And there is always my brother. He never leaves things alone for long.
Signed your good-at-her-job narrator,
Azrael the Star of Death
Book Information
To learn more, hop on over to the books page OR hop on over to the teaser and get a sneak peek of Chapter 1! For more articles like this one, have a peek at my Worldbuilding Journal and explore Orosta.
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