Page 92 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

A time unknown, but of mischief

Weldir feigned leaning left, just so he could bounce to the right and intercept his offspring darting around him.

He grabbed Aleron by the rear leg and dragged him backwards.

“Nooo! I do not want to fall!” Aleron yelled, gouging his claws into the ground.

Black goop bubbled from the marks he left behind, a flaw in Weldir’s design of Tenebris; he’d forgotten to place dirt beneath the grass.

“You should learn how to fly,” Weldir argued, as he approached the edge of a cliff he’d managed to trick Aleron into nearing.

In reality, he could’ve forced the issue by teleporting Aleron into the air, but Weldir found this much more fun. Teasing his rather playful offspring was quickly becoming a highlight of spending time within his own realm.

“I am sorry! I will not do it again!” Aleron whined, trying with all his might to win the battle against Weldir – to no avail. “No more eat souls. Promise.”

“You’re turning out to be a big liar, Aleron,” Weldir said with a chuckle. “You’ve already eaten three, and you’ve said the same thing each time. This also isn’t punishment.”

Although Weldir had initially been annoyed his bat-skulled offspring had picked off a few souls, on purpose, when he wasn’t around to stop him, he hadn’t remained upset. Weldir wasn’t using much of his mana right now, instead storing it in case Lindiwe had need of him.

Swallowing Aleron had increased his reserves to a little over one-third. Of course, since he’d eaten a few souls, it’d brought that down to one forth. That was more than enough to keep him useful, and his offspring was now a little more intelligent.

Most importantly, Weldir had managed to remove the shattered fragments of each soul from Aleron immediately, preventing him from being afflicted with the same curse as his serpent sibling.

His back muscles had also strengthened around the base of his wings. From what Weldir had been able to gauge, he should be able to fly now.

He didn’t mind Aleron stealing a few souls if it improved his quality of life here. Especially as he’d struggled to adjust to Tenebris at first.

His initial reaction had been panic. Not at his death, but that his twin, Ingram, wasn’t with him. Aleron didn’t mind that he’d died; he’d just expected Ingram to be with him if he did.

He was slowly accepting it.

However, Weldir couldn’t conjure his viewing discs near him, as Aleron would want to stare at Ingram for hours on end. It was unhealthy, and it made him even more stagnant than he should be. He’d also whimper as he did, and Weldir didn’t want him to be sad within his realm if he could prevent it.

With regard to another sibling, Aleron couldn’t figure out Nathair.

That was due to Nathair being a bully. He’d sign at Aleron, who had no idea what he was doing, and then the serpent Mavka would chortle and snicker when it bothered him.

He was having fun teasing his sibling, and he’d personally asked Weldir not to reveal why he was silent until he was ready to have the conversation with him.

Nathair made up for it by not only allowing Aleron to lie next to him, but he would curl his tail around him so he could feel secure.

Then, he’d pet his bat skull silently, so long as he wasn’t deep within a trance – Nathair would always be a little grumpy afterwards otherwise.

He’d often retreat into his lake to hide away his anguish.

It was also his way of hiding from Aleron when he found his playfulness too much.

Weldir’s current attempt at a flying lesson was halted when Aleron managed to clamp his hands around the base of a tree.

Weldir jerked back and turned. As soon as he let go, Aleron tried to sprint away.

Weldir wrapped Aleron up in tendrils and forced his offspring to his side.

He then proceeded to flip him onto his back, pick him up until he was in the air above his head, and walk to the cliff edge.

Aleron roared when he tossed him, and Weldir leaned over the edge to see how he fared. He kicked and shoved his hands downwards as he fell.

Weldir changed the pressure of the air so it was thicker, and his wings started to spread on their own. He tried to emulate wind, and after a few intermittent flaps, Aleron spread his wings. He began to glide, and his yelling ceased.

“Ha! I knew he’d get it this time.”

He glided downwards, rushing with intense speed.

“Alright, Aleron. Flap,” he whispered.

He didn’t; he just kept his wings wide.

“Flap your wings,” he whispered again, yet he still didn’t, even as he rushed towards the tops of trees. “Shit.”

Weldir teleported to the bottom of the cliff, at the start of the forest, and began to grow his size.

It was too late. Rather than acting like a stone wall, he caught Aleron, and they went rolling back to soften his fall.

Except Aleron, the uncoordinated goofball, didn’t bring his wings in.

He gave a sharp yelp when one snapped as it hit the trunk of a tree.

Weldir healed him when they stopped rolling, then sat on the ground with him as Aleron wheezed. After a moment, he bounced up onto all fours and jumped excitedly.

“I flew! I did it.”

Weldir chuckled. “I wouldn’t say you flew. More like glided down to the trees and crashed.”

“No. I flew!” He ran in a circle and then continued to jump, his wings twitching. “Again. Again!”

Well, at least this is a start . And he no longer seemed to be afraid, despite getting hurt. Weldir placed his hand on his bat skull, rubbed it, and teleported them back to the top of the mountain. Aleron spun, sprinted for the edge himself, and leapt with his wings wide.

This time, Weldir formed his own wings from nothing, and teleported to his side. He fell with him, then glided when he did.

“Flap your wings. Like this.” Weldir shot in front to demonstrate what he meant, and he turned his back to the ground to make sure Aleron followed his instructions.

When the process was about to fail again, he teleported them both back to the starting point where they’d begun to fall. He did it repeatedly, keeping his back to the ground while inverting his false wings to demonstrate, until Aleron eventually figured it out.

The moment he did, Aleron took off into the sky, and Weldir flew with him.

For the first time since his offspring arrived in Tenebris, he laughed while dipping to the side so he could bank left over his realm.

It was obvious he didn’t know what to do with his legs and arms as they flapped around, so Weldir came closer to show him how he thought they’d be best tucked up and in. Aleron followed the silent instructions, and it looked more comfortable.

There, he has learned to fly.

Aleron was a winged being. This should be freeing for him and give him an independence that had no emotional tie to his twin. Something entirely new that he could do on his own.

Maybe now he’ll stop being cheeky and picking off my souls one by one. Or maybe Weldir had just made the problem worse.

A time unknown, but of unwanted burdens

“You don’t seem pleased about this,” Weldir stated, watching his mate very closely, who had the sun stone on her person.

He was ready to snatch her back to his realm if she so much as dared to go near Jabez’s castle with it alone.

Seated on a tree stump, she stared at the tent belonging to Mayumi, which had been set up under Faunus’ ward.

She was waiting to see if Emerie would leave the borrowed tent on her own so she could speak to her privately.

“I’m not,” she grumbled. “I don’t want to ask her to do this.”

“Then why are you? Surely we could find another human to do it.”

Lindiwe lowered her gaze to the stone in her nimble hands as she rested the backs of them in her lap. Her face shifted to appear downtrodden.

“Because I don’t know where to start, or who to ask to do this for us. I’m worried that if we wait too much longer, another one of them will die.”

“Then they die,” he stated, unsure why she just couldn’t seem to understand or accept this. “They will just come to me and start their life here. They would be safe.”

“They’ve only just found brides, Weldir.

They’ve only just achieved happiness.” She thumbed the stone.

“They all deserve to live a proper life. And what if it’s Faunus?

I think something in me would break if I’d have to look after my own grandchildren because their parents died.

I... don’t want to do that. I will, if I must – if it comes to that. But it shouldn’t have to be that way.”

Hmm. I never considered the impact on those who have younglings. Or hadn’t yet had the chance to make their own. I... also don’t know what would happen to the bride, should their Mavka die. They would no longer be alive – that’s all he knew.

Lindiwe lifted her gaze to the night sky and let out a defeated expire.

“How did things go so wrong? I feel so awful having to ask this of Emerie, but what if waiting ends in disaster? I know this will likely hurt Ingram, and I know he’s already lost so much, but she isn’t his bride. He can find someone else if we’re unable to bring her back to life.”

“You could always inform them of that potential.”

“And give them false hope, only to find out we’re wrong? That her soul is destroyed upon using it? That seems so much worse. I’d feel like a liar in the worst way. I’d rather not say anything at all and then present them with the hope when it’s a real possibility.”

“I’m unsure of how to ease you,” he admitted, hoping she’d understand that he wanted to, he just didn’t know how. He often said the wrong thing.

She pressed her fists to her forehead, just as a small, soft sob cracked from her.

“Help me feel better about this. That I’m making the right choice – because I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Weldir.

” A glittering droplet fell from her chin and landed upon the skirt of her dress, darkening the white of it.

“I feel like I’m becoming a selfish, horrible monster.

That something inside me is rotting. The fact that I’m even going to do this, knowing how much it will hurt them both, makes me feel so awful that I don’t know how to swallow it.

But I keep thinking about Faunus and Mayumi, and their babies.

About Orpheus, who waited so, so long for someone to love him.

About Magnar, who wants to greet Fyodor again one day.

How desperately they are all trying to survive just another day.

Ingram’s future is undetermined; his bride isn’t set in stone.

He will live past this, and yet I can’t help thinking how unfair this is on him too. I just... I feel so lost, Weldir.”

“It cannot always be humans that make sacrifices. Our offspring must also help, even if it isn’t always for their betterment.”

He actually had a solution, but he knew it was morbid, and something she would never agree to.

If Emerie was destroyed, then Lindiwe could destroy Ingram’s skull herself and let him be with his twin.

They could traverse Tenebris together, just as they did on Earth.

There would be no difference for them, as all they’d done was adventure and play.

But she doesn’t see Tenebris as a second life for them, like I do.

“I know,” Lindiwe said, wiping the back of her wrists against her cheeks. “It just feels wrong. I wish you’d just let me do this instead.”

The growl that snapped out of him was lethal.

“Oh, be quiet. I know you won’t let me.” She sniffled and lowered her hands to reveal how glossy and swollen her face had become. “I’m just expressing how I feel. But thank you for listening. For letting me get this out.”

Emerie finally emerged from the tent, and his mate’s expression grew cold as she stood.

“Always, Lindiwe.” As she approached the woman from behind, he added, “I have enough mana right now to produce a portal, perhaps even two. All we can hope is that she agrees, and that her soul isn’t disintegrated in the process.”

“I know,” she whispered.

Then, she grabbed the redheaded woman from behind while covering her mouth so she wouldn’t scream and wake Ingram.

Weldir listened in on their conversation with a heaviness weighing down his mist. He sympathised with his mate, even if he couldn’t relate nor truly understand her pain.

What’s done, is done, and what may come, will come.

All they could do was try... and witness the results thereafter.