Page 79 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

Humming, Lindiwe watched her newest baby scamper around a small meadow in the bright morning sunlight. Snow covered every inch of the ground; it was too soon to begin melting with the early spring chill.

They were young, barely a few weeks old, and had no distinguishable features yet.

Their blobby, baby-like form was the same as all her children when they were first greeting the world.

A tiny oval snout with two slits made up their nose, and they had no eyes or even impressions where they should be.

Two little holes marked where their ears were.

A small smile crept onto her face as they explored, sniffing anything and everything of interest. They didn’t seem to mind that their claws and fingertips bent backwards as they dug, or the iciness when they bit around snow, chewed it, and then spat it out with their purple tongue curling at the taste.

Her smile cracked when her stomach twisted with nausea. Seated upon a stout boulder, she covered her gut and tried to swallow down the saliva flooding her mouth, which informed her she was moments from puking if she didn’t soothe the urge.

Her stomach gurgled, bubbled, and heat travelled up behind her sternum.

Losing the fight, she bent forward with a hand on one knee and expelled the empty contents of her stomach.

It was so warm that the blackness staining the snow began to melt it.

Tears welled in her eyes as she heaved multiple times, trying her hardest to see so she didn’t vomit on herself or her curious baby.

At the noise she was making, or perhaps the smell, they came running over with a trill.

Lindiwe scooped them up before they could step in the black puddle she’d made, as her body continued to heave even when nothing came up.

Screeching with hands reaching out and making grabbing motions, they fought to get to it, and she utterly refused to let them play in it.

Once she was done, and managed not to get any on herself, she leaned back to breathe.

“You should eat. It makes you feel better,” Weldir said through their bond.

“I know it will make me feel better, but it sometimes makes it worse,” she answered, as she looked up at the colourful sky slowly shifting to blue.

Lindiwe wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then reached down to grab a fistful of snow. She wiped her face, then put some in her mouth, let it melt, and swirled it around before spitting it back out.

“It seems particularly bad this time.”

Lindiwe gave a mild snort of laughter. “Maybe having two children back to back wasn’t wise.”

“It was your idea.”

She rolled her eyes, got up, and walked away from her mess with her baby curled up under her arm like a ball.

“I know having a second baby only a few weeks after the first was my idea, but I’m hoping if I grow them closely like Ingram and Aleron, they’ll form a bond like them.

I wish I had realised sooner, as I may have paired up all the Duskwalkers. ”

“You cannot change what has happened.”

Snow crunched under her footsteps as she walked into one of the forests of Mongulien. The people here were good, kind, and hardy, which meant many of them had survived in the destruction of history.

The Demons kept coming, but they were wary of the humans here, just as they were wary of the countries surrounding it.

This was the perfect location to raise these two, as the country sat between the Sing Empire and Pyrssia.

She planned to leave them a little east, where the two countries bordered, and let them roam freely.

“How is Nathair today?” Lindiwe asked, changing the direction of the conversation.

She kept an eye out for any noise or movement, knowing the hibernating animals would emerge soon in search of food now that winter was over.

“He’s still lucid, but he isn’t interested in speaking with me much.”

Pausing to sigh, she pushed her fidgeting child to her chest so they could cling to her properly, then scratched behind her ear. Her loose hair tickled the back of her hand, and she patted it down to neaten it.

“He’s doing better regarding the fragments, but I think he’s truly begun to realise that there is no life here. He cannot move forward when there is nothing to move towards.”

As much as learning this upset her, they’d known about Nathair’s mental decline for quite some time. His sudden increase in humanity meant he understood the hopelessness of his new life.

The fragments had been a distraction, but he was better at controlling them.

Learning how to speak through sign language had also been a welcome challenge because it gave him something to focus on, rather than dwell.

But he and Weldir had, apparently, been able to speak for decades, so all that remained was a hole in Nathair’s life.

One in which he dwelled in impossibilities, just like her.

Lindiwe raised her face to the sun when it peeked through the trees. I bet he’s questioning why he’s there, and how unfair it is. She continued walking on her aimless path. He used to watch us with Weldir, but he’s stopped doing that too.

He was mentally shutting down, right after snatching his mind back from the human fragments that pestered him. They were still present, and sometimes he lost the battle, but he was better at dealing with them.

She was thankful to remain updated, but it was... hard not being able to do anything to help. He was there, even further from her reach than Weldir, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Weldir worried he’d consume her entirely if she went to Tenebris. She was human. She may not survive the ‘great swallowing’ she’d once called it with a disgusted shudder.

Placing a hand on her stomach when it grew queasy, she then rested it lower. She rubbed the outside of her growing womb, her belly still flat, as it was too soon for her to start showing.

They’d both been conceived by a tendril, Weldir begrudgingly agreeing despite never trying to convince her otherwise. He’d given up on trying to change her mind about intimacy, as five decades had passed and she’d not once wavered in her decision.

She’d hated the entire process, but it did make her heart feel lighter. It also made guilt deepen to the point she wanted out of his realm so fast, she would have ripped apart the fabric of space and time just to flee.

“Thank you for letting me know about Nathair.”

Silence fell between them, which was perfect. It allowed her to begin her hunt for food.

When she first spotted a marmot, she considered killing it but didn’t want to risk the sickness they sometimes gave to humans, despite being a delicacy in this part of the world. She’d tried it before but didn’t wish to risk it while pregnant. Instead, she captured a hare.

Then she made herself a fire on top of a flat piece of rock, skinned it, and cooked it. The process took some time, pushing her into the midmorning when she started eating. She was midway through when a Demon came to inspect her smoke and the smell of meat in the air.

She covered herself in a protective dome, and it proceeded to snarl and bash at it. She didn’t give it another thought, even when her baby growled back while scratching at the inside of the dome to fight it.

Cutie. It’s in their instincts to fight Demons.

“Lindiwe,” Weldir called, when she was taking her last few mouthfuls of meat. “A group of humans has stepped into my mist bordering the Veil.”

“So?” she asked around a warm bite. “If they want to die, then that’s their choice.”

“There’s a bound woman with them.”

That made her pause, and she pulled her meat away from her mouth to frown. “But the occultists are mostly gone. None have sacrificed women in over a century.”

“These people don’t look like occultists. Most of them are armoured.”

“Like from a town?”

“I believe so. They have crests on their armour. I think the woman is a criminal of some kind. They’ve mentioned a murder.”

She lowered her food entirely. “Throwing someone into the Veil for a crime is barbaric. She must have killed someone of importance if they marched all the way there just for her.”

She probably pissed off the wrong person, and they wanted to make an example out of her. I don’t see why it matters to us. Humans were cruel. Enough to stab Lindiwe and leave her to die and be eaten. Enough to do other vile things to each other.

“I thought you’d be interested to know. And that they’re very close to Fennec’s cave.”

“Then he’ll gain some humanity – unless the Demons get to her first,” she murmured, taking another bite.

“I’m... surprised by your response.”

Her gaze lowered to her fire in shame. I can’t save everyone. She’d turned her back on humankind a long, long time ago. I can only care about my children. They’re my priority.

Yet, her next bite was harder to swallow, and she gave up on her meal entirely when she just felt sick for all the worst reasons.

I guess I could save her. But to what end?

To leave her in the forest on the surface just to be eaten?

I would have to walk with her to a nearby town and hope she isn’t arrested again.

Not saving her life could save her from living in a prison cell for the rest of her days – which was more merciful, in Lindiwe’s opinion.

Then a thought crossed her mind, and her shoulders lifted self-consciously.

“ How close to Fennec’s cave?”

“Enough that he would find her with ease from where she falls.”

Her mind rotated with an idea. I told myself I wouldn’t interfere anymore.

She rubbed the side of her neck. But... I know he seeks a companion like Orpheus.

She pulled her hand away to look down at her palm.

What do I do? Let her die, or give her a chance at a new kind of life?

Her hand held no answers, and her next question sent dread through her chest. What if she’s like Katerina?

She curled her fingers until she made a fist. What if she’s not?