[ WP ] You live in a world where people 's shadows show who they truly are at their core . Some shadows look like monsters , some look like animals . You are the only person in the world with no shadow .

The security guard was a boar. I could already tell this was going to be a problem. 
 
 `` You there!'' he shouted and pointed at me, `` Stop where you are!'' 
 
 I freeze in place and hold up my hands in surrender. His shadow snuffled along behind him as he stormed towards me. Its tusks held low and ready to charge. On the other hand the security guard himself looked like a rather ordinary, balding man in his late 40s. But, like most people, I knew better than to look at his face. Always look at the shadows. The shadows tell the truth of a person. Which, unfortunately, was the very problem he had with me. 
 
 `` What are you?'' he demanded as he stepped closer and inspected the ground around me. 
 
 I sighed in exasperation. For anyone else that question might refer to their job, coach driver in my case, but for me the question always meant `` what sort of shadow do you have?'' I used to lie and tell people it was a flea until the day I met a real flea. The guy was all sorts of creepy and, since then, I figured it was better to tell the truth. 
 
 `` I'm a shadeless,'' I told the guard. He took a step back and grasped for his cudgel. Oh great. He was the superstitious sort. 
 
 `` What are you doing here?'' he asked suspiciously, `` It's late. Decent folks should be indoors now.'' 
 
 `` Yes,'' I agreed, `` But for the less decent who still need a ride home after the taverns close they will probably want a ride.'' 
 
 I nod in the direction of the Eastern Coach Company placard on the gray stone building just ahead. It was in the direction I had just been walking before the boar shadow security guard had stopped me. He glanced in that direction and shot me a confused glance. Honestly, in this day and age do people really believe the whole shadow stealing myths? 
 
 `` I work there,'' I explained slowly, `` I'm the night coachman.'' 
 
 It took awhile, but I could see realization slowly working its way across his face. First a lift of the eyebrows. Next his eyes refocused. After that it traveled as a wave all the way to his down turned lips. He grunted and relaxed his grip on his cudgel, but did n't take his hand away entirely. 
 
 `` A coachman,'' he said, `` Been doing that long?'' 
 
 `` Six years now,'' I admitted. It was one of the few jobs I could do at night. Night time was the time I was most free. When shadows were swallowed up in the darkness. It was the only time people would not stare at me. 
 
 The guard scowled at me but I knew he was going to let me go. His shadow's attention was wandering elsewhere. 
 
 `` Fine,'' he grunted, `` But I'll be keeping an eye on you!'' 
 
 I nodded and, without another word, stepped into the front door of the Eastern Coach Company. My boss, Grady, stood just inside the window. His frog shadow hopped about anxiously. 
 
 `` Sorry, Jeb,'' he said quickly, `` I saw him coming towards you. But I did n't think it would help none if I-'' 
 
 I waved him into silence. 
 
 `` It's okay, Grady,'' I reassured him as I doffed my coat and hung it on the hook by the door, `` I have to go through this every time the city mixes up the patrol. He's probably just from one of those Lowlander tribes. He'll get used to me.'' 
 
 Grady nodded once and mopped his forehead with a tattered rag. He's a good enough man. After all, he hired me when no one else in the city would give me a chance. But frogs tend to be a bit skittish. I knew for a fact if I had been arrested he would not intervene. He was too afraid of being arrested himself for being an associate of a shadow stealer. 
 
 I guess I should n't be too upset. Not even fifty years ago I would have been put to death because of my unique birth defect. Back then idea was that a shadow was not just a mere impression of, but the actual physical image of the soul was still fairly commonplace. Modern science swears this is n't true and, through some sort of complicated alchemy I do n't understand, supposedly proved that a shadow is nothing more than a light interaction upon the ethereal projection of a spirit. For whatever reason, my particular spirit just did n't happen to project into the right plane to interact with light. Physician after physician has reassured me that it means nothing and that I can lead a normal and healthy life. I can probably even have children with normal shadows if I could ever find a woman who was n't squeamish about the whole thing. 
 
 As Grady stood there twisting his rag and fretting, I grabbed my uniform cloak and hat and exited the room towards the stables. 
 
 Handsome Dan nickered as I walked towards him. I smiled back and stroked his mane in greeting. Animals, at least, did n't seem to mind my company. Maybe because all animals only had to deal with shadows of themselves the did n't think they were that important. I do n't know. 
 
 I had just finished hitching him up to the coach when Grady stepped out. 
 
 `` Jeb?'' he said, still sweating, `` I just got a wire from the Bucket and Stone.'' 
 
 I shook my head in disappointment. 
 
 `` Is Ferris at it again?'' I asked. 
 
 `` Drunk off his seat,'' Grady agreed, `` The barkeep asked if we could send him home. Asked for you specifically.'' 
 
 I shrugged. Why not? Ferris was one of our regulars. Or, should I say, one of my regulars. About once a fortnight he would stumble into one of the local ale houses and get drunk and try to start a fight. His shadow was a monster. A real monster. Ten feet tall with spiky horns and sharp claws. In his youth he had been a real terror. But old age dulled his reflexes enough that seven years ago, during a knife fight with a lion shadow, he had let his guard down enough to take a dagger across his eyes. He was completely blind now. More a danger to himself than anyone else. Still, even in his damaged state, the other coachmen tended to give him a wide berth. 
 
 For the past four years I have given Old Ferris rides back to his squat cottage on the edge of town. Helped him to his bed and pretended not to hear his drunken sobs as I slipped back out the door. In all those years he's never once asked me what sort of shade I am. 
 
 `` No problem, Grady,'' I said as I mounted the seat on the coach, `` Crippled monsters need to stick together.'' 
 
 I rode off before he could say another word. 
 
 EDIT: I originally submitted this when I was getting ready to head out the door. Corrected some typos. Thanks for the feedback, everyone.
