The Shades stepped forward together. One of them, Sil, Sen or Sef, it was so hard to tell them apart, added a strand of shadow to the bowl instead of hair. The shadow did not fall like a strand of hair would have; it drifted down like smoke and settled on the surface of the liquid.
Then he sliced his palm, and instead of blood, a dark fluid that was not quite liquid and not quite shadow dripped into the bowl. He spat, and it was a wisp of darkness that vanished into the depths, and finally, he reached into the folds of his cloak and withdrew a small cup that seemed to absorb the light around it.
"This is a memory of our home," the Shade said. "It is the only thing we have left of the place we were born. It is precious to us."
While the other two Shades performed the same ritual, I found it fascinating that none of them brought out any other thing precious to them except that small cup… a cup of the sort that is given to children.
