Page 73 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

“Think about all he does. The sun barrier on the castle throughout the day, the scent cloak in the village at all times, the constant need to teleport, the wards he requires to sleep safely, and he must battle constantly to maintain his position on the throne. He must save his reserves, or he will have nothing to expend when he needs it most.” Woik then waved towards the silent door.

“Demanding minor assistance is not a sign of weakness, but of someone who understands that not doing so and failing means death. It’s not laziness; it’s intelligence.

He’s tired, he’s spending too much, and it’s irritating him.

Only a fool would fail to see that all this expenditure is taking its toll on a mortal being. ”

He then turned to leave up the staircase. At the bottom of the dark, winding, ascending corridor, he gave her an unfeeling stare from the corner of his eye.

“I suggest you relay that to the other guards within this castle before your insolent words cause him to think your loyalty is shallow, and he removes you... violently.”

After he left, the woman shuddered as she peeked at the other guard. “Scary.”

Their footsteps padded after him quickly.

Now that she was alone, Lindiwe turned to Leonidas’ dungeon cell. She cupped her hands nervously, unsure if she wanted to see the horrible state of her child. She quickly squashed that down and passed through the door, and magical barrier, freely.

Now that the smells of people were gone, he no longer attacked the door, but he bashed against every surface for freedom. He looked fine. There wasn’t a single wound on him, but Lindiwe knew better.

The overheard conversation from earlier was enough proof that they had tried all manner of things to kill him. His trembling limbs and white orbs, constantly spiralling with red before being engulfed in fear, proved he wasn’t okay.

On all fours in his monstrous form, he paced as he whimpered, only to snarl and run headfirst into a wall, bashing it with his curling ram horns for freedom.

“Leonidas,” Lindiwe whispered, turning physical so he could smell her familiarity even if it often unnerved her children.

Leonidas backed up into a corner, the vortex fire of his orbs rotating into crimson, but he didn’t attack.

He defended himself like a skittish creature that had been tortured, swiping his claws whenever she neared.

When she came too close, he slammed his hand down, parted his feline fangs, and hissed.

“Please calm down,” she cooed, lifting her hands up so he could see they were empty. “I’m not going to hurt you, little one.”

Darting forward in a blur of chomping fangs, he locked his jaw around her arm faster than she could turn incorporeal. Lindiwe screamed as she turned Phantom and floated away from him while holding her elbow to support her injured forearm.

That’s not like him. He wasn’t enraged; she wouldn’t have approached otherwise. He’d chosen to bite her consciously, and Leonidas wasn’t inherently violent like many of her other children.

The taste of her blood sent him over the edge, and he sprinted from one side of the cell to the other in search of more. He attacked her ghostly body, not understanding it wasn’t touchable in that moment.

I won’t be able to help him while he’s like this.

“W-Weldir?” Her form wavered. She didn’t need to be human right then to sense her own panic, fear, and worry. “Are you able to make a portal here if I bring some of your mist?”

“No. I don’t have enough mana to sustain it right now.”

Her eyes bowed in distress. “Please?”

“If I do, I have no idea how much damage it will do, and how long I’ll slumber as a result.”

“Please?” she begged. “There’s a barrier, and I doubt I’ll be able to get him out of the castle before he’s recaptured.”

Jabez would just teleport him back here if he got his hands on him. And in a tight environment that he knew better than a crazed Duskwalker desperately searching for an out, even if it was right before him, every minute they took to flee would only ensure his recapture.

“You know there is another option.”

“I can’t!” she yelled. “Please. Please don’t make me do it.”

“You’re sacrificing my ability to help in the future over your emotions. If another of our offspring requires immediate help, you may be too far to give it. Is your guilt worth that?”

He was right. She knew he was right.

That didn’t stop the tears that instantly welled when she turned physical. It didn’t assuage her anguish and disgust, nor soothe the frantic pace of her heart. It didn’t make her feel any better as she clamped her injured arm to her abdomen for support and threw her left hand forward.

Thick shadowy tentacles snapped around Leonidas’ body. He fought them, and his distressed snarls only gouged into her chest further. He was so strong that his arms constantly pushed his chest up as he writhed to be freed.

His right arm came out from under him and his chest slammed against the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Lindiwe cried, summoning a blade into her trembling, uninjured hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Leonidas’ beastly roar shook the very foundations of who she was. His feline tail curled, and his fur lifted in aversion when she stepped closer while crying.

“I’m so sorry!” She screamed it this time as she brought the blade down just behind the base of his skull.

Leonidas let out a heart-rending squeal, and she answered it with a shuddering cry.

She wasn’t strong enough to do this in one swing, and she had to bring her blade up again and steady her hand so she could hit the same spot.

She hated that he kept moving until she cut through his spine.

His orbs bled to white. What should have been a fatal wound meant nothing to a Duskwalker.

“Why?” he whispered, the betrayal in it evident.

She shook her head, unable to answer while biting her lips hard enough to draw blood as she brought her blade down one last time. In an explosion of glittering sand, his body turned into a giant cloud and disappeared.

All that remained was his head. His beautiful feline skull and sandy ram horns.

Her blade disappeared as she grabbed his horn with one hand and lifted his weighty skull. When she turned incorporeal, it came with her – it wasn’t something she could do when their bodies still existed.

They had to be temporarily dead for her to bring them to this side of life and death.

She carried it tightly and narrowly evaded being discovered as she fled the castle. Each second weighed on her conscience painfully, and she struggled to maintain her form under the heaviness of her emotional anguish.

She made it outside into the dark of night and sprinted with the remains of her stolen prisoner.

She went as far as she could; the castle was far away and hidden behind the canopy of leaves before she finally gave in.

Thrown from her Phantom form, Lindiwe collapsed to her knees and held Leonidas’ skull tightly, hugging it to her chest with all her might.

“Why?!” she yelled, as hot tears dripped from her jaw and splattered against the dirt. “I never wanted to do that!”

She never wanted to harm her own son – only to save him. No mother should have to do such a thing, have their child’s blood splatter against her hands and feet, staining her dress, her very mind, as she hacked their fucking head off.

The unfairness of it was unbearably cruel.

On her knees, she cried against his big head. Her shoulders heaved, and she hiccupped, struggling to catch her breath through her sobs.

Why him? Why was Leonidas taken? Why did any of her children have to suffer at the hands of that evil vixen and her brutal guard dog?

Because none of the others would have let any Demon near them, and Merikh was too smart to get caught.

Orpheus hated them more than anything. Fennec was wary and territorial, but he never wandered far into the Veil.

And the twins, Aleron and Ingram, were more dangerous as a synchronous unit than any living thing in the world.

Because Leonidas made himself vulnerable – he was curious, befriended Demons, and wanted to learn.

Weightlessness suddenly took her.

Lifting her head with a sob, she peered into the dark void. Weldir looked so distant that she could barely make out the imprint of his minimal solidness.

“Change forms, Lindiwe.”

Adhering to his command, Lindiwe shifted, and her tears renewed.

Then he shot forward, and her swollen face was tucked against strange firmness.

A limb held the back of her head, while the other rested low and held her hip.

The body she was pressed against felt wrong, as there was no defined muscle or malleable softness. It barely made a discernible shape.

“I know you said you don’t wish to pretend, but this is all I can do for you.”

The limbs around her were tendrils, with their ends split into false hands. His body was nothing but a barrier, smooth enough to be hugged, but not real. The only part of him that seemed to exist was the crook of his neck her face was pressed up against, up to the edge of his jaw and pointed ear.

Lindiwe let go of Leonidas’ skull, knowing Weldir would keep it utterly safe, so she could wrap her arms around his barrier as if it was his midsection. The anguish in her next cry was pronounced enough to ring in her own ears.

She embraced him like her life depended on it as she sought the comfort he was generously offering.

Lindiwe clung to him desperately. She clung with every inch of her body, every ounce of strength, as she scratched with the need to crawl deeper inside of him until he swallowed her whole and numbed away the anguish, the loneliness, the regret.

“I know this was hard,” Weldir stated softly. “I know this was something you never wanted to face, but your strength and bravery in that moment is a reflection of your selfless devotion to him. To all of them. You should be proud of your savage mercy, as I am proud of you for doing it.”

His tendril hand patted the back of her curls, being so gentle with her as she trembled in the wake of this kindness. His words somehow deepened her wounds and healed them at the same time.

Right then, she didn’t care if this was real. She didn’t care that she wasn’t really hugging him, when she knew he was at least there for her in the only way he could be. That his consciousness was welcoming her and trying to help her through one of her most painful moments.

She wasn’t alone.

“I am sorry that you must always face hardships in my stead . ”