Page 27 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

Lindiwe pushed her newly braided ponytail inside her cloak so it sat more comfortably, and then she propped up her feathered hood. A light gust pushed past her, making the material flap around her body.

“Are you heading to Orpheus now?” Weldir asked her.

“Yes,” she answered, surveying the clouds looming over a forest of the surface world. “You said Orpheus was finally returning home, and I think I’ve annoyed Leonidas enough.”

Orpheus had been hunting for an exceptionally long time – nearly three weeks. To give him his independence, Lindiwe had stayed away and focused on Leonidas, but it had been difficult to do so. Why he was gone from his home and Katerina for so long, neither she nor Weldir knew.

“Are you sure? You didn’t even try to teach him his name this time.”

She knew he was intentionally teasing her to be playful , but it hit wrong, and Lindiwe lowered her gaze to the ground.

I’m... tired of trying. She was tired of them constantly forgetting. And when they finally gained enough humanity to understand that they could have their own identity, she then had to fight tooth and nail to explain that their name wasn’t ‘Mavka.’

Or someone else gives them a name. Someone they cared more about, as if Lindiwe’s affection was unwanted and bothersome.

Realising she’d grown forlorn, she rolled her shoulders back and plastered a smile on her face. “I don’t think he’s ready. I’ll try again when he has more humanity.”

With that, Lindiwe called for the shift, ending the conversation, and morphed into her human-sized owl form.

Flying was tiresome. Although her muscles had changed, she still felt the stretches and aches from using them. She tried to feel the air, to see the current, to experience the sky like any normal bird.

She pointed her beak at the greying clouds she headed towards to make sure she wasn’t flying into a storm. Although they appeared dark and heavy, there was still an unbroken ceiling, and the rain had yet to begin falling as if the very clouds were crying upon the earth.

She squinted through the gust that cut across her face and feathers from the change in air pressure as she flew beneath the sea of grey.

She struggled to orientate herself in the sky, her right wing yanked back as the wind tried to push her to the side.

She pulled her wing in, threw it forward, and steadied herself.

Multiple times during her flight, she had to battle the very elements of nature, but nothing was as intense as that first wall of pressure.

She would have preferred to fly above the clouds in bright sunshine, but she wouldn’t be able to navigate accurately and refused to risk going in the wrong direction.

The first time Lindiwe had dipped above dark clouds to see what was up there.

.. she’d been awestruck. The sun, so vibrant and warm, had been breathtaking, especially with how it had cast varying hues against the floor of clouds.

But it was confusing when she couldn’t see the ground, so she forced herself to remain below the gloom. If she perceived a static charge against her feathers, she’d immediately dive for the tree line to avoid being struck by lightning.

She hated admitting that had actually happened once. And it had been embarrassing when she’d died and returned to Weldir’s realm for such a strange reason.

Just as the clouds began to disperse, proving her worries had been for naught, the forest fell away, dipping down into a massive canyon.

The Veil looked more oppressive than it used to.

The white mist that lingered all throughout it had thickened by the year, making it appear eerier. The trees were taller, their branches crisscrossing like a network to create a frightful, shadow-casting ceiling. It’d grown quieter, as if the very world wanted to hide from it.

Her eyes homed in on the top of a sparkling blue dome, and she banked a little to the left to head towards it.

I doubt I’ll be here long. She just wanted to check in person that all was well, ensure their garden was healthy, and assist them should they need anything.

Orpheus had gone back to the Demon Village on his own twice more since they first went there a little over six months ago and was gaining confidence with each trip.

She’d returned temporarily the first time to aid him should he need it, and then the second time she left him to either succeed or make his own mistakes.

What he obtained, she didn’t know.

When she neared Orpheus’ dome, she found a suitable branch to perch on that allowed her to see within his ward.

Then Lindiwe waited.

He’s cleared much of the forest, she thought, spanning her gaze across the log cabin she could almost see perfectly.

Only a few dozen trees still remained within his ward.

The house was well built and looked surprisingly good quality, considering Orpheus’ lack of experience.

His care and slow, methodical process meant he’d tried to do everything to his idea of perfection.

Each timber log appeared to be of similar width, and she remembered watching him compare them to make sure.

The garden fence was a little crude, as Katerina had indeed eventually made it, but Lindiwe could tell that Orpheus, over the last two years, had somewhat fixed it.

She didn’t know what the inside of the cabin looked like. It was his home, and although she was curious, she doubted he’d be okay with her entering it.

She also didn’t want to be caught doing so and violating his or Katerina’s privacy. I’d like to be invited in one day.

As... silly as it was, she would have adored being allowed to sit at their table and enjoy a meal or tea with them.

A part of her had been hoping that Katerina would eventually warm up to her, so they could spend time with Orpheus together and learn together.

Since he had someone he wanted a bond with, Lindiwe might have been able to make a connection with Katerina, who then could have helped Lindiwe and Orpheus get better acquainted.

In reality, she wished Katerina had leaned on her more and seen her as someone safe. Yes, Lindiwe’s first priority would always be Orpheus, but she had room in her heart for Katerina.

Kicking her talons against the knob of a branch that was annoying her, she thought, I would have liked a friend.

If Katerina became a Phantom, then they could share in that strangeness. She would be someone Lindiwe could help guide with her newfound abilities, and together they’d discuss both the good and bad aspects of their dual lives.

It would mean someone else who was human, but would also live just as long as she did.

To not feel so solitary in this... Lindiwe would have moved the stars and sky for that person.

Lindiwe longed to have an undying friend in this world, especially one who could share in her struggles of being bonded to someone other .

But this would never happen.

Although Katerina’s behaviour towards Orpheus had become more positive over the years, she still hated Lindiwe.

The woman seemed to hate her more, actually.

She no longer had an issue with taking Lindiwe’s help, but it was always with this awful little sneer of disgust at her magic.

She sighed. She doesn’t have to like me, so long as she likes Orpheus. That’s all that matters, really. But it would have been nice...

If she didn’t currently have a hard beak, she might have pouted.

Rustling from a few trees down brought Lindiwe’s attention in that direction as Orpheus breached the tree line and entered his ward.

Across his shoulder lay a large deer, with its long legs dangling down the front and back of his torso. In his humanoid form, he approached their home’s porch steps, and the carcass thudded against the steps when he placed it down.

“No, no!” Katerina yelled, throwing open the door, and she immediately pointed away from the house. “I don’t want you bringing that dead thing in here. Put it away. Out of my sight.”

Despite her bossy tone and non-existent greeting, Orpheus’ blue orbs shifted to bright yellow, and his deer tail wagged inside his trousers.

Lindiwe tipped her head to the side when she noticed the haphazard stitching that kept his tail hidden away, like someone had purposefully sewn the slit shut. I don’t remember Snush’s pants being like that.

“I did as asked,” Orpheus explained, dropping low to the ground when Katerina walked down the stairs and placed her hands on her narrow hips. He waved in the direction of the deer. “See?”

Her pink lips pursed tightly as she regarded the creature with disdain. “Yes, I can see that. I’m surprised you were able to find a brown deer with five tines on each of its antlers.” Then quietly, and with her face to the side, she muttered, “And in only three weeks.”

Lindiwe’s gaze drifted over the deer. Why did she want something so specific? A brown deer with five tines wouldn’t have been easy to find, especially for Orpheus, who would not only have needed to find one, but then not eat it himself.

Readjusting her wings when worrisome dread cascaded across her form, she tried not to let her paranoia get the best of her. Surely it wasn’t to be rid of him for so long.

Or worse still... to find an excuse to be annoyed with him if he failed or miscounted.

She may want the antlers for decoration. They’d make a nice chandelier for their rustic log cabin. There would be more tines to place candles upon or hang things from.

Orpheus crept closer to Katerina, who didn’t shirk his approach, even when he stayed crouched and reached for the backs of her calves. Instead, the woman just raised a dark brow.

“Promise?”

Her lips twitched, and her eyes narrowed in a way that had Lindiwe’s feet shifting. Was it a thoughtful expression, a playful one, or anger? It really was hard to tell with her.

Katerina turned her blue eyes to the deer and then lifted her chin. “I guess I did say you could have a reward if you actually managed to bring me one.”