Page 96 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

The spell sputtered out when Lindiwe once again tried to see Fyodor, Magnar and Delora’s daughter. Not only did nothing show, but the scrying disc also wouldn’t conjure at all.

Her worry deepened.

“Why can’t I see her anymore?” she whispered, bringing her knees up while seated on her bed. “Did someone give her a new name?”

Without it, Lindiwe couldn’t scry for her. It was the same when her children obtained new names, as picturing their faces while thinking of their names was what the spell required.

“But who would give her one? She doesn’t have enough humanity to make a real companion.” Her lips tightened in thought. “Unless she suddenly gained humanity. But still .”

Lindiwe sighed and racked her brain about what to do. She’d already visited Fyodor’s burrow to find it empty, and Weldir was unable to see her, as she wasn’t his direct descendant.

She’d grown into a full adult when he’d been asleep right after Faunus’ skull was first cracked, and she hadn’t returned to the Veil since. Had she done so, he could have familiarised himself with her spirit to manually link their family threads.

Without that established connection, the only way he’d be able to find her now was if she were to walk into his mist. Unless she does so when he’s asleep again.

She already could have right before Nathair and Aleron had been brought back to life, but Weldir had slept for a month during that time as well.

Ugh! This is so frustrating. I want to make sure she’s okay!

She scratched behind her ear in irritation. I should have paid more attention, but I was dealing with Nathair. She’d relied on Weldir during that time to make sure all the Duskwalkers were well, forgetting that only she could see Fyodor.

“If she doesn’t turn up shortly, I’ll have to go find her myself.”

Right now, Lindiwe was taking a... break.

She was emotionally worn out and just wanted a period of ease before jumping back into her life. After the hellish past two years, where almost every day had been anxiety inducing as Lindiwe waited for Jabez to make a move, she thought she deserved a reprieve.

“Well, me-and-you-two time,” she said with a small laugh, watching her babies wrestle on the bed. “Hopefully the dust has settled enough that I can give you both your skulls and horns.”

One was a little bigger than the other and bore a skull kind of like a human’s but with large canine fangs on the top and bottom jaws. The other still looked like a newborn Duskwalker.

She threw her foot out when they were close to tumbling off the side of the bed that wasn’t up against the wall, and her leg stopped them both from falling. She placed them back in the centre so they could continue to play.

“Lindiwe,” Weldir called softly.

“I swear, if you’re about to tell me a Duskwalker is in danger, I will come to your mist and strangle you,” Lindiwe answered playfully, although she wasn’t entirely joking.

She really did just want everything to be fine for a little while.

His answering chuckle, although light, was like a balm to her spirit. “No. All is well regarding them.”

She smiled softly. “That’s a nice change.”

“I was wondering if you would be available to have an important discussion.”

“Sure,” she answered, as she scratched behind the skull of her baby. “I’m all ears.”

“I would prefer to speak with you in person.”

Hard to do that when you’re not a real person. He was a shadowy entity.

She understood what he meant, though.

She considered denying him. Lindiwe didn’t want to be in his realm, or near him. It still hurt, and that hadn’t gone away even if the last two years had been a distraction of sorts from her heartache.

But it’s not often he asks me to come to him anymore.

Considering how much he’d done to help over the past few years, denying him felt unfair. She had relied on him a lot – magically, physically, emotionally. He’d been there for her as much as he could and had gone beyond his usual capabilities to do so.

“Okay.” She grabbed both her babies. “I’m ready.”

She was brought to his comforting weightlessness, and she turned incorporeal for him. When she finally located his mist, Lindiwe squinted at him while leaning forward.

“There’s so little of you,” she stated quietly, noting that there was barely a sixth of him.

Streaks only a few centimetres long wrapped around his entire body sparsely. Enough for her to see him, so long as he didn’t move suddenly.

Then he made what seemed a deliberate movement. Perhaps he looked at his own hands? It was impossible to tell. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Guilt and gratitude swirled together in her chest. I didn’t know it was this bad. Her eyes followed the patterns. Does this mean he’ll sleep for a long time again?

Lindiwe didn’t know if she was relieved or saddened by that. She always missed his presence when he was gone, even if he was distant in another realm. She liked being able to talk to him freely, despite how it made the ache in her heart worsen at times.

“You wanted to talk to me?” she asked, hugging their sleeping babies to her chest.

“Yes.” From what she could tell, he lifted an arm and called a brightly glowing, golden something to it. The piece of weird, broken, glittering metal hovered above his clawed hand. “I wanted to show you what has allowed me to be so useful lately.”

“Is that the gifted piece of the Gilded Maiden’s crown?”

“It is.” He drifted closer so she could see it properly. “I’ve used a small amount, but most of it remains.”

She wanted to reach out and touch it, but hesitated. It looked... hot, like it was molten despite its solidness.

“This is pure mana. It’s different from mine.

I can manipulate it and pour essence into it.

I can change it, create and destroy with it.

” He lowered his face to regard it closely.

His expression remained unchanging, as usual, but his following silence made the moment seem heavy.

Important, almost. “I... know you have become discontented with our bond. I want to present a different option to you, as you have done much for me over the past few human centuries. A person should only have to suffer the whims of a demi-god for so long before being rewarded.”

Her brows drew together tightly as she flicked her gaze between it and his unchanging expression. Something about his deep voice, and the way it sounded solemn, twisted her belly with nervous unease.

She shrugged. “I guess.”

“With this, I would be able to give you back your soul, and more. I would be able to give you power that isn’t mine, and it would be totally your own to wield.

” He lifted his face to hers, and she wished she could see more than an eye and part of his nose.

“You could even choose between continuing your immortality or becoming mortal.”

“Weldir?” Lindiwe’s confusion deepened her frown as she shook her head. “I don’t understand where this is coming from.”

Nor why he was saying it.

“I would only need half to do this for you, and the other half would give me enough power to cover the rest of Earth in my mist. I can take care of our offspring with that reach, especially as I think I can convince a few to assist me, like Nathair and Odie. You would be able to live a life I have robbed you of, or continue as you are but without any attachment to me. You would be able to form a bond with another, as I have no need to create more servants. We have made plenty, and they can act as my physical self in that world as you have. They are even making more themselves.”

Squeezing her arms tighter around her babies, Lindiwe’s pulse raced. She knew he could hear it, and so could she, as it thrummed frantically in her ears.

“I... have no more need of you,” he stated quietly. “With this crown fragment, I can do the rest on my own.”

She knew why it felt like her heart was bleeding through her chest. Lindiwe had thought the longing and yearning would go on forever. That her unrequited affection and love would eventually eat her whole and spit her out until she was a misshapen version of herself.

This was a solution to that. A way to move on and finally be... free.

It hurt more than she could bear.

For over three hundred years, she’d been tied to this person. This strange, mesmerising, beautiful being, and she didn’t know how to live her life without him anymore.

Now that she had this option, she didn’t actually know if she truly wanted it. But I can’t keep living like this. Both options seemed impossible for her to accept, and she wondered if perhaps death was preferable.

She didn’t think her love for Weldir would simply end. Even if she found someone else, they wouldn’t be him, and she would always remember the person who owned her heart as much as her soul.

He said he doesn’t need me anymore. Why did that make her feel so insignificant? That all the tenderness she felt for him meant nothing, and that she, all this time, had just been a tool. A servant. Someone to be used rather than truly cared for.

She only realised she’d actually started crying when she licked her lips before parting them to speak and tasted the salt of tears. “Is that what you want?” she asked, her voice cracking as she tried, with all her might, to stop her lips and hands from trembling.

“No. Not particularly.” Weldir looked down at the glowing gold fragment once more.

“But I wanted to present you with the options clearly so you could make the most informed decision. What I truly want... is you. The added bonus is that I will also get something else I’ve sought from the moment I was born.

But... I want you to be happy more, even if that means I cannot have either.

That is my gift to you. Your happiness, freely given and well earned, even if it is to my detriment. ”

“I-I don’t understand.”