Page 87 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

Opening and closing her hands, Lindiwe hissed through clenched teeth at the agony that radiated down to her bones.

Fissures had grown over the skin of her fingers and hands.

They looked like cracks of lava as much as they felt like it.

They were hot, constantly aching, and nothing Lindiwe did removed the pain.

It hurt to touch anything, let alone move her hands.

Every time she tried to make a fist, the skin pulled taut and tears threatened her eyes.

I wish Weldir was here. He’d likely know how to fix the pain, and this magical wound she’d given herself.

Her years with the Anzúli had taught her many things. Magic detection was one of them; another was how to sap excess magic from a person. However, due to the nature of how she healed, which was the same as her children, she had to bear the wound herself.

Merikh didn’t even thank me for helping him.

Just once she’d like him to see all that she was doing – all the ways she was trying to make amends – and accept it. But, as usual, he wanted to see the worst in her, even when she healed a strange Elvish woman he was keeping in his cave.

She was healing her magic depletion on her own, yet he tried to give her some of his to help her.

He said it was because she had a use to him, but Lindiwe wasn’t an idiot, and she’d been watching closely.

Well, as close as his ward would allow. Why does he have an Elf anyway? How did she get to Earth?

Her pointed ears and height were a dead giveaway, as was her white hair. From seeing such features in Jabez, Lindiwe had known straight away she wasn’t human. And considering she lacked horns or fangs, she also surmised the woman wasn’t part Demon.

Her eyes had been brown, with starburst pupils rather than black circles, and she had tight, coily, corkscrew hair.

Her skin had been a deep brown, with a grey undertone that didn’t match the depth seen in humans – but appeared beneath their skin.

She’d also only ever seen this in Jabez, who was an Elf as well.

She was very pretty, Lindiwe mused, leaning her back against the wall on her bed. He likes her, even though he lied about it.

Merikh was gentle with Raewyn in ways Lindiwe never thought possible.

He took care of her while allowing her to keep her independence, likely due to Merikh desiring that very same thing.

With her teasing him, he often joked back in return, or covered his face to hide his reaction, and to quieten his chuckles.

A few days ago, she’d also accidentally witnessed them entangled sexually before she quickly shut her viewing disc.

I tire of witnessing my children partaking in acts a mother really should not be seeing.

Each time, she wanted to scratch her eyes out, even though it did make her hopeful for their potential future happiness.

Why do they keep doing it outside when they have beds? !

Grabbing her pillow, she brought it to her lap and hugged it. She rested her chin on it and grumbled to herself. “He refuses to listen to me, no matter if I have his best interests at heart.”

The Elven woman couldn’t stay here; she needed to go home. She didn’t belong on Earth, and Merikh shouldn’t go with her. What if it endangers all his brothers? Not just the ones in Austrális, but the entire world. I know Weldir wants to keep what he’s been doing a secret.

He worried they’d strip him of his ability to reach Earth, leaving all of them without his assistance. And with Jabez on the loose, crazed for bloodshed and war, they’d all – including her – need him more than ever.

And it’s not just Jabez. There were other Demon factions across the world that had their own menacing leaders.

Most considered Duskwalkers a threat, since they ate them, but they weren’t planning an all-out war with them, from what information she’d gathered.

Things are shifting. Much was happening.

Austrális felt like a catalyst. Soon enough, Lindiwe expected battles to break out between Duskwalkers and Demons across the world. Right now, all she could do was be here for those within Austrális. Eventually, she would have to help the others.

We need to be rid of Jabez now, before I’m forced to stretch myself across the world. She’d sincerely need Weldir’s help then.

I also don’t know if an Elf and a Duskwalker can bond. And Weldir wasn’t available right now to answer that question; he’d been asleep since helping Faunus achieve full life by bonding him to his bride, Mayumi. I’m worried Merikh is setting himself up for failure.

I’m also human. I think the reason the other brides can have children with my sons is because they’re human.

What if it was different between Merikh and this Elven woman?

Say they could bond, they may not be able to have children together, if that was what they wanted.

I tried to explain this to him, but he didn’t want to listen.

“He never wants to listen,” Lindiwe grumbled to no one. “He always grunts, snaps, and snarls, thinking I’m trying to get in the way.” She buried her face in her pillow. “I want him to find happiness.”

She wanted all her children to be happy. To find brides and fall in love.

“What if he goes with her to the Elven realm and they try to destroy him?” She worried about this constantly. Lindiwe wasn’t privy to what the Elvish people were like, but she knew they weren’t above imprisoning people for years when they were young boys or Demons who sought sanctuary.

Sure, they’d imprisoned them for good reason – to protect the hundreds of thousands at the cost of a few – but it was still undeniably cruel. There were likely other avenues they could have tried first, but they’d obviously let fear get in the way of logic.

What if that same fear saw them trying to imprison Merikh, or kill him, or other horrible unknowns she couldn’t even possibly imagine? Fear was a horrible emotion. It made people do stupid, cruel things. It could make people change or force an entire society to go against its own moral code.

That same fear pulsed in her veins for him.

He’s suffered enough.

He didn’t need to be tortured or attacked when he was just trying to find a place to exist without being hated.

If he goes there... then I’ll never be able to help him. If he needed her aid, he’d be too far away. There would be nothing she or Weldir could do.

That was part of the reason she’d tried to beg him to stay. And it was likely that same reason that he hated her even more.

I just want to protect him. Physically, emotionally, mentally. Why do I keep failing when it comes to him? He was so hard to connect with. His anger and spite, even at himself, made it difficult to convince him to soften and see her side.

Maybe I should just leave him be.

He was an adult. He could make his own choices and mistakes, even if they weren’t things she wanted.

“It’s not like I’ve ever had a say in the matter.”

If he wanted to throw all his hope at a strange Elvish woman and go with her to Nyl’theria, then so be it. But if this brings harm to his brothers... Lindiwe didn’t think she’d ever be able to forgive him.

It’d taken her years to forgive him for killing her first child. If he brought destruction to all the others due to his selfishness, then she’d find that irreparable.

“I miss Nathair,” she said with a sniffle, rubbing her face against the pillow she hugged to rid herself of any tears. She hissed again at the pain in her hands, when tightening her grip made them ache even more. “Every time I see Merikh, it reminds me of him.”

It was probably the same for Merikh.

I miss Weldir too. Constantly.

It’d been seven months since he’d gone back into a magic recuperative slumber, and that silence was getting harder and harder to bear. She missed his presence, his voice, his guidance, and his... distant care.

It’d also been the same amount of time since Faunus had bonded with Mayumi, who had given birth to a baby two and a half months later... only to immediately fall pregnant again.

At least he was happy, they were doing well, and they’d long built their home within the Veil with the help of Orpheus and Magnar.

Well, mainly Orpheus, who enjoyed helping his siblings even if he grumbled about it – Lindiwe had a feeling he didn’t know how to take compliments, so he liked to pretend everything bothered him to shy away from how it made him feel.

He often hid his bright-yellow orbs of joy whenever they were near, and only truly let Reia see the positives he felt. He’s not used to happiness or contentment after nearly two hundred years of pain.

Delora was also much happier, and she followed Magnar around wherever he went like she was his shadow, clearly smitten with him. If she wasn’t with him, she was with Reia or Mayumi – who had become fast friends and training buddies.

Whenever she saw Magnar’s tail wag at his bride, or any of their orbs turning bright pink for their females, Lindiwe couldn’t help the adoration that swelled in her chest like liquid fire. The burn hurt, but it felt nice at the same time.

It was a welcome change.

Which only made her more anxious for if, or when, things went horribly wrong. Luck had never been on her side, and she worried about how all this would come crashing down.

Please.

She didn’t know what she was pleading for anymore.

She just needed some... hope.

March 4 th , 2024

“He’s really gone,” Lindiwe said as she entered Merikh’s empty cave.

Then again, she’d known that by the murkiness she’d seen when she scried for him earlier that morning.

He was under some kind of ward, and she figured it was the protection bubble that surrounded the Elven city.

She’d seen it herself once, as she’d gone through one of the portals and flown over Nyl’theria in curiosity.

When she’d no longer been able to see him, she hadn’t been able to help herself.

She flew over the Veil westward to see for herself that his cave was vacant.

There was no trace of him other than the lingering of his citrusy scent and all the things he’d left behind.

It didn’t look like anything had been packed, as if none of it mattered to him and he’d left it all behind.

His bed was unmade, his shelves the way he left them.

“I’ve been inside here so many times,” she murmured aloud as she brushed her fingertips over his stone workbench. “It always feels lonely here.”

Not once had it been filled with a warmth that was left behind in a loving home. Just once, she would have loved to sit inside it with him and have a pleasant conversation.

That was now entirely impossible.

He was gone, and any hope of mending their relationship was gone as well.

A part of Lindiwe grieved his absence – she always had – but it was different now. He was completely out of reach, and to her, that was the same as being dead. Like Nathair, he was in another realm, one she couldn’t go to, or be a part of.

She came here to absorb that, as she likely wouldn’t ever return. This cave and lake is where I lay the worst of my sorrows and regrets. She needed to leave them behind or forever grieve those emotions with festering, worsening wounds.

Just as she turned to leave, something pulsed with a yellow glow in her periphery, dim against the shrouding shadows. She reached across the stone workbench and tentatively retrieved the blue mana stone she’d once given him. Except unlike before, yellow pulsed from within intermittently.

He’s left behind his glamour? No, it was more than that; he’d... changed it somehow. Even she could tell the spell was different.

She curled her fingers around it, wincing at the pain from the cracks of lava forking across her skin and knuckles – the wounds from healing Raewyn yet to be healed even after months.

I’ll give it to Weldir.

When he woke up, whenever that may be, he’d likely have an answer.

If Merikh has left Earth, then there’s no problem with me taking it. If he left it behind, he wasn’t coming back for it.

“I’m sorry for all we’ve done to hurt you,” she said to Merikh’s empty cave. “I hope you find the happiness you’ve been searching for, and a place to fit in and be welcomed.”

She’d just prepare in case this brought ill winds for her other children. And for her and Weldir.

I hope... you found love and it heals you, Merikh, my little bear cub. She looked up at the ceiling of his cave. I think you deserve it more than anyone.