Page 15 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

A time unknown, but a curious one

Lifting a hand, Weldir made three fish manifest above it, creatures he’d practised sculpting after looking into the memories of fishermen.

He cast them into the water, and a bubbling trill came from its depths as Nathair chased them. His tail shimmied side to side as he swam, going along the edges so his side fins could brush up against the rock face.

The sail fin along his back made him look like a gigantic shark lurking, and it allowed Weldir to know exactly where he went beneath the surface.

His offspring playing often brought him great joy, and he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the rock.

Nathair never tired as he tried to snap his maw around each fish – never to win because Weldir wouldn’t let him.

He even tried to slap his hands around them, and occasionally head-butted a wall when the fish disappeared inside it and he didn’t have the intelligence to stop.

Weldir sat and watched him for a little while. Now that he was comfortable, and Nathair was distracted, he was able to move onto other tasks.

Tiny dots of black, shadowy magic formed all around Weldir before expanding into viewing discs. Some were partially below his sight line, and others above it. Creating them dug into his well of mana, but he didn’t mind.

Thirteen discs formed, each one showing an offspring meandering through Earth and its many forests, meadows, and mountains. None were aquatic like Nathair, and even though one had wings, the feathery appendages were too droopy and heavy upon their back to fly.

Weldir checked on all his offspring, noting most of them weren’t doing anything out of the usual.

The discs spun around until he brought the one of Lindiwe and Odie to the forefront so he could watch them.

They sat in the colourful hues of morning on a patch of grass within an open space between the trees.

Frozen morning dew clung to leaves and branches, the season cold where she was, with piles of dirty, melted snow lingering on the ground.

It must be early spring.

A sense of ease weighed in his mist as he witnessed her trying to explain his name to him again, for what had to be the dozenth time.

“Odie,” she said, as she pointed to him.

“Mavka,” he answered, pointing at himself.

“Nooo.” She shook her head and waved her hands back and forth.

“You are a...” She narrowed her eyes, and he could almost read her thoughts by her expression alone.

She didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to call him a Mavka, when she preferred the term Duskwalker.

She yielded, likely seeing it was less confusing for him.

“You are a Mavka. Mavka. Your name is Odie.”

He pointed at her. “Odee?”

She slapped her hand against her face before patting her chest. “Lindiwe. My name is Lindiwe.” She patted it again. “I am a human. ”

You are a Phantom, little owlet. Weldir kept his silence.

Odie snorted a huff through the nose hole of his otter skull. “Lindiwe-human-thing. Confusing.” He waved his hand at her. “Always come. Always annoying.” He pointed at his chest. “Me name Mavka. It what beasts call I.”

He still has his wording all jumbled up. At least he was getting the foundations down.

Odie waved his hand once more at her dismissively, his claws glinting in the light as he turned to leave her presence. She threw her hands up with her fingers taut, and he could see the scream she was holding back.

He let a chuckle trickle through their bond.

“Don’t you dare laugh!” she shouted, slapping at the ground as she stomped to her feet to follow after him. “Because all the Demons have been calling them Mavka, they all think that’s what their names are! It’s frustrating.”

All the noise she made annoyed Odie enough that, while on all fours, he bumped his hip against the trunk of a tree. Dew rained down on her, causing her to squeal softly in surprise.

A deeper chuckle escaped him, and she gritted her teeth and scrunched up her face, which he found remarkably cute. Her glossy curls, now soaking wet, showed more of their length by being weighed down. She chased after Odie, and he increased his pace to get away.

Given his bright-yellow orbs, he merely thought it was a game.

Weldir partially watched their play – although he didn’t make Lindiwe aware of it – and moved on to check other discs.

Ari was battling against three Demons, but it appeared as though he’d gone out of his way to hunt them.

Leonidas was napping inside his cave before night came, whereas Fenrir was wandering Austrális in the region Weldir believed was the northwest. Dymphna was sniffing at the ground to find a suitable spot to sleep in the oncoming sunlight, then he plonked himself down for a morning nap.

Weldir inspected each of the discs and his offspring, occasionally pausing at a more active one as they ventured through the world. A grizzly-bear-skulled Mavka who lived in Unerica came across their sibling with a lynx skull. A fight ensued, and Weldir watched to see who the winner would be.

The lynx one eventually limped away on all fours with reddened orbs, leaving his brother’s skull discarded on the forest floor to be healed in twenty-four hours.

Weldir didn’t inform Lindiwe of this, as it would only upset her.

The fierce grizzly would be fine; he could see that Mavka’s soul was still attached to his skull, which was perfectly intact.

One thing Lindiwe informed them all of was that their skulls were precious, and not to break each other’s. And to never, ever tell anyone of this fact.

Which brought Weldir to Merikh.

The disc was fuzzy, and no image appeared. Instead, he looked upon glittering sand like his mana searched and searched for him but couldn’t find his eldest living offspring.

He’s hidden behind Jabez’s ward again.

He flicked his hand to the right in front of the disc and instead peered through his mist at Jabez’s castle.

It was a small building, but enough to look grand and gothic in an odd place like the Veil, and it was rough in its shape and finish.

Those who built it weren’t great architects, but it was sufficient and looked strong.

There was one tower on the right-hand side, while the rest of the castle could be called more of an elaborate, four-level manor. The top of it could be patrolled, and he’d often seen Merikh and Jabez standing up there during the night as they conversed.

Gardens of thorny bushes surrounded it completely, making it appear as though the person within the castle didn’t want unwanted guests climbing their way through.

They were tall and thick, their thorns sharp enough to collect dewdrops.

Hedges around the side made a small labyrinth before leading to an open portal.

There was a gated opening barring those who crossed over from Nyl’theria from stepping onto his lands, and clearly Jabez had his castle built close by so he could watch over it.

If Weldir knew what he’d done with the mana stone that powered it, where he’d likely buried it, he would have told Lindiwe to steal it long ago.

Despite the fact that he could note all these details, Weldir, no matter how he tried from his realm, could not see inside the building.

There was a barrier in place, a mostly clear one that had an oily, rainbow sheen to it like a bubble.

His mist couldn’t penetrate it; therefore, his sight couldn’t.

But Lindiwe can walk through it in her Phantom form.

Just as he was about to rotate his viewing discs to bring another forward, a claw pierced the one before him. A finger followed, and it wiggled up and down. He pushed the disc to the side and faced Nathair, who had clearly breached the surface of the lake with the goal of interrupting him.

“Attention,” he demanded, slithering onto the land to circle Weldir within his tail.

“Maybe I’m too busy to give you attention,” he answered, rotating his head around and around to follow his skull. “I believe you’re also missing a ‘please’ somewhere in there.”

Nathair stuck out his tongue and blew air with it, then proceeded to shove his body across Weldir’s lap.

He lay across him, the physical parts of Weldir’s body keeping him up, and wriggled back and forth.

With his arms folded on the ground to provide a resting spot for his chest and head, he thumped his tail on the grass in a silent demand.

Weldir gave in and scratched his back and sides, and all of Nathair’s fins quivered in delight while he rumbled a near purr.

Within a short span of time, perhaps minutes, loud, contented snorting came from his serpent offspring before he fell asleep under the power of Weldir’s petting.

His mist spread out from him in contentment, pleased that after so long within his realm, Nathair saw him as safe. He relied on Weldir to ease his loneliness, and Weldir did the same in return.

He continued to scratch Nathair’s scales, being careful that his claws didn’t harm him.

Weldir avoided his gills when he moved to pet his neck, as they were rather sensitive.

Nathair eventually rotated to his side while asleep and pushed more of his tail around Weldir as he subconsciously demanded stomach rubs as well.

His left hand stroked Nathair’s thin, scaly abdomen as he used his right to rotate the discs, noting both Fenrir and Leonidas were on the move during the early morning.

Just as he went to shift his focus and check on one of his many other offspring, he paused when a log cabin in the forest came into view.

Fenrir hid behind some bushes to watch a woman pull out vegetables from an already upturned garden.

Her actions, although frantic and fast, were calculated as she picked each one carefully while leaving many others behind.

She threw them into a backpack, gasping every time a twig snapped in the distance, then reached for a kitchen blade.