Page 85 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

I’m afraid to fall asleep, Lindiwe thought, staring into a small viewing disc of Leonidas.

The winds around her campfire were rough.

Sitting in the dismal sunlight, her warming talisman did nothing to protect her from the way it cut across her skin, or how her hair kept passing over her face like it wanted her to breathe it in and choke on it.

Her eyelashes bent in awkward directions, causing her to blink rapidly.

Winter had come, and a storm in the southlands made it colder than usual.

As much as she wanted to go inside and close her eyes, she found it difficult to pull her gaze from the crack in Leonidas’ feline skull.

Since the night she’d desperately tried to heal him of the wound to no avail, her pulse had been racing. Her anxiety constantly set her on edge, just waiting for the moment when she tried to call his face to the surface in her scrying spell... only for it to never come.

Almost a month had passed since that day.

A part of her was already mourning the loss of him, and she’d break out in tears at random.

A stray thought, a memory of the way he used to play by trying to catch her before she could turn incorporeal.

She thought the world would suffer a great loss without his rather sassy attitude in it.

Her heart was dying in her chest, and she often sought the sun just to feel anything other than cold, unyielding sadness.

It’s why she’d made a temporary home within the mountains of the north to be closer to Leonidas, just in case.

For what? She didn’t know. She had this overwhelming desire for nearness, but it wouldn’t matter.

Maybe it was so she could collect the pieces of his skull so no one else could have them .

So she could protect them before she inevitably gave them to Weldir for safekeeping.

Such thoughts always made her eyes brim with tears.

As much as she wanted to stare at her son with grief and loss already twisting her heart beyond repair, Lindiwe had to end the spell. She cast it briefly once a day, rotating between each child for just a few minutes, and then ended it once she knew none of them needed her.

But it was that gap, that stretch in time before tomorrow came and she could check them again, that worried her. The nagging desire to give in was like an itch that needed scratching, but doing so would only bloody an already gaping wound.

I can’t use his magic right now. The more she used, the longer it would take for Weldir to return. So she used as little as possible, and relied on her mana stone that had its own source of magic, and her Phantom abilities which were all hers.

She returned to Spiral Haven once a week, taking all the souls she could from there while avoiding Jabez entirely. After the battles they’d endured, things had taken a turn. Although their truce within the village remained, it was rocky and uncertain.

Duskwalkers could no longer enter it, and he’d given her the warning personally when she’d returned to the village to collect souls. Her task was permitted, only because it benefited him and his people.

All that matters is everyone is safe.

Orpheus and Magnar no longer left their protections without each other, choosing to hunt as a pair.

Merikh hadn’t returned to the Veil in over a year, but even the surface world had grown more violent.

The twins didn’t care; they were together, and therefore, dangerous – not even idiotic, lower Demons would dare attack.

And Leonidas... well, he’d finally taken her advice and left the Veil.

So, he’s gone back to that house, she thought, wrapping herself up in her cloak to escape the winds, unable to fly through such a storm.

Her hand itched to bring up his face again to see the quaint home in the background. He was hidden, watching over it silently from the trees or in the snow.

She didn’t know why, only that he returned to that house, situated in the north’s forest, every year or so.

There had once been a young woman there, her hair as black as night and as straight as an arrow, but she’d stopped returning many years ago.

Leonidas had watched over her father and his declining health before he, too, stopped being there.

Even when it was absent of life, Leonidas returned.

She’s there now, though. Was that why he was constantly drawn to that house, just for the chance to see her? The windows had been lit up from within, and she’d left to go hunting that very morning, geared up in winter clothes, a sword, and a bow and quiver.

The woman was in her late twenties, and there was a sharpness in her brown eyes that Lindiwe only ever saw in those who had seen death and survived.

They were the eyes she saw in her own reflection.

A cold, unfeeling logic in the face of adversity or pain. Self-sacrifice in the name of betterment, even if it wasn’t always good. Someone strong, unafraid, and resilient.

To know her child cared for someone deeply enough to want to spend his final moments watching over her was heartbreaking. Even more so that she didn’t even know he existed, and the potential future they could’ve had was now... impossible.

How sad, she thought, wrapping her arms around her babies, and cuddling them close. Her heart throbbed for Leonidas, and she wished things didn’t have to be this way. And there’s nothing I can do to fix it.

A time unknown, but where hopelessness fractures

A tug yanked Weldir awake.

It was tight, like a string being pulled taut so it could retract towards his centre in a burst of kinetic energy. He’d felt it before. Only once, but it was strong enough to pull him from slumber sooner than he should have.

So, Leonidas’ skull has broken, has it? he thought, as he lifted his hands to see what he’d managed to recuperate.

He was surprised to see there was so much of his physical self, considering he’d been held under the waves of mana exhaustion. How long has it been?

He brought up a viewing disc of Lindiwe, only to note which season it was, as it was unlikely she’d left Austrális during this time. Winter? Only a few months had passed then.

That was enough to give him strength, especially as his mana and power were quicker to return now that he’d covered much of the world. Sure, it was difficult to maintain, but he’d long figured out how to automatically consume souls even when asleep.

He could unconsciously heal and expel, consume and strengthen, and place them in their locations to rest.

Lindiwe wandered near and around a town in search of something.

When she couldn’t find what she sought, she transformed, left the town’s location, and headed to another.

She only does this when she’s searching for souls.

Could this be the reason he’d gained so much strength in such a short time? She’s been aiding me.

He considered telling her about Leonidas, but decided against it for now. First, he needed to bring his offspring to his side, even if he wasn’t in his mist and easily reachable.

Waving his hand, he summoned all his fate tethers to become visible. He found the one that was tighter than the others, as if it wanted to be returned to him, and its twisting yellow and black informed him it was Leonidas’ – although another of his offspring had a similar colour.

Weldir gingerly wrapped it around his forefinger, locked onto it, and pulled to call his soul to him. Oddly enough, it held firm. He tried again, using only a small amount of force, as that was all he’d needed to obtain Nathair’s.

It didn’t relent.

I don’t understand. If Leonidas was dead, his soul was no longer anchored to his skull. It should come easily when called.

Weldir waved a hand to conjure a viewing disc of his offspring, and all he saw was his yellow spectral soul moving around in a blurred, white environment. Weldir was unable to properly see the real world, when Faunus was a part of the afterlife.

With his finger still wrapped around his child’s fate tether, he yanked again. Leonidas snapped out a snarl only he could hear and shoved himself forward to fight the tug that Weldir had on his spectral spirit.

I see, he mused, releasing the string. He isn’t ready to let go. He was holding onto life, seeming to follow someone or something, and Weldir could just perceive the movement of life in the murk surrounding him.

Weldir would give him a little more time to process his own death before fate itself would take him anyway. He had a day on Earth before his soul would be yanked to Weldir, even if neither of them wished it.

He watched as Leonidas whimpered. He backed up and then whined while covering his chest as if someone had walked through him without seeing him.

Lindiwe, on the other hand, barely stopped moving.

She continued her search, finding one soul along the way, and sucked it into the vial that contained a few already.

Only when she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open any longer, did she find a tree to perch herself on in her owl form, and slept for a few short hours.

Weldir let her be for now. He took the quietness of Austrális’ night to check on his other offspring.

All were well, so he visited Nathair.

“You will have a Mavka companion soon,” Weldir informed him, since he was lucid.

Nathair’s orbs shifted to dark yellow in curiosity, and he signed, “What do you mean?”

“The feline-skulled Mavka’s skull is broken.

He’s being stubborn currently, so I’m giving him time to say goodbye to life.

But soon he will have no choice, and neither will I.

” He turned his face up towards Tenebris’ false blue sky and ever-constant sun.

“He may need much of our assistance to adjust to his new life here.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Nathair turned his serpent skull towards the meadow-filled horizon. “It’s... lonely here. Another would be welcome, even if it’s due to an unfortunate reason.”

“Agreed. His life will end there, but start here.”