Page 29

A time unknown, but awaited

Underneath his toes, grass bent as he set his foot down. He watched each step carefully to make sure it appeared as realistic as possible.

With a soul in his right hand, Weldir peered into it until the human’s memories flooded his mind.

He observed the way the sunshine cascaded over her face and cast its glaring light upon the world, and how the rain bounced off her tanned skin and caused her eyes to flicker faster to battle the droplets.

Wind pushed all around her, which made her clothing billow and rustle around her limbs.

He took in the bark of trees through her gaze, and how the sky’s blue hues changed depending on the time of day – or how it splashed the world with fire in the evenings and mornings.

There was something notable about the flowers when the woman constantly picked one to press it to her nose, as if they had a pleasant smell he was missing.

Although he couldn’t feel, smell, or taste anything, being able to interact with the world through her memories was... heartwarming. It was tender.

He pushed the soul away and called for another.

A man wielding some kind of bow knelt in the gritty sand of Earth to inspect a set of animal tracks.

The man brushed the grains in his hand before sniffing them, bit into a reed of some kind, and then looked up to the desert surroundings.

Tall, thick bundles of dry grass swayed alongside bushes of white wildflowers – strong plants that could survive what was obviously a much harsher environment.

Spindly trees lacking leaves offered little shade, but the man took a moment to rest under a branch’s shadow while searching the horizon.

Large insects buzzed near his face, and he swatted them away, only for them to become a nuisance once more.

Weldir moved on, grasping at a new soul. Another male, this time situated around a dinner table, spoke to other humans.

With each new soul Weldir accessed the memories of, the more he learned of the world beyond his own realm. And, with it, his understanding of the environment grew.

Taking another step through Tenebris, the realm within his stomach, Weldir grew grass over the black, inky ground.

Wildflowers sprouted as a phantasmagoria of meshing colours, not all of which belonged together.

But that was fine. One day he’d learn what matched with the environment he grew; it would make sense once he delved into more memories.

He was thankful that he’d long learned he could actually do more with these souls other than ignore them.

Eating them only gave them a place to roam or, rather, scream in terror. Peering into their very essence was like looking into the reflection of water, but rather than seeing his face, he saw their life. Ripping them apart with his claws split them in two and gave him a large burst of power.

Power came with consequences.

I don’t think Lindiwe has forgiven me yet, he thought, as he made a bout of rain drizzle around him. Most of it went through his predominantly absent form. Then again, I didn’t answer when she needed me.

Apparently the female had called out with desperate need of assistance, but he’d been too deep in slumber to respond. The voice had been too quiet to stir him. He also wasn’t used to being called. He couldn’t even remember if anyone had the ability – likely not while he was so deep in sleep.

Enfeeblement from the quick and excessive use of his mana had collapsed his very being. Unable to maintain even a body, his mist had spread outwards within his own realm and nothingness swept him under.

He didn’t like stealing the essence of a soul to fuel a burst of power, but his quick wit had allowed him to be by Lindiwe’s side when she was giving birth.

Even though he’d perceived that what he was doing was wrong, he tore that soul apart and consumed it so wholly it no longer existed in any plane.

The consequence of that was an overuse of his natural mana that went with it, as it was also consumed in the process.

It momentarily dissolved his strength, rendering him useless except for what kept him alive, his realm quiet, and allowed his mist to remain on Earth.

There was also one final task he had to maintain, which was keeping the Demons that passed from Nyl’theria, the Elven realm, trapped on Earth.

If only he could have battled the enfeeblement by swallowing untainted souls. He could have filled in the gap and then given himself more mana to survive on. Instead, what continued to fill the precursor of his realm, his consciousness, were tainted and ruined souls.

Whenever Demons passed through his ring of mist bordering the Veil, he snatched souls from within their essences. But they were sickly, missing pieces, and required attentiveness before he could consume them.

Doing so caused chaotic leaks of mana within his stomach, which rumbled his insides and caused him to throw them up.

Weldir knew better now, but in his moments of physical, spiritual, and mental weakness, he’d been desperate. He’d been hoping having a mate would aid him, but she used far more power than she gave.

She didn’t even seem to realise she was hurting him, but he chose to believe that she was doing so to protect their offspring.

Time. He just needed more time, more strength, and for her and their offspring to finally do their duties and aid him. Then, perhaps soon, he wouldn’t be brought to such a pathetic state again.

I need more power.

So when she called for him in the future, he could aid her like she needed him to. Perhaps she could even stir him from a slumber, rather than being on the brink of death, in pain and afraid, and managing to somehow survive the ailment of the serpent’s venom on her own.

When he had woken up, she’d looked frightfully unwell when he’d checked up on her, as if the venom had lasting effects. Muscle weakness, mental fatigue, and a limp that had not mended itself in the months since she’d acquired the bite.

I healed her, but she still doesn’t wish to speak with me.

He’d brought her, and their offspring, to his realm to aid her. She was given back all her strength and health, and he even removed the dark smudges of tiredness under her eyes. Despite this, she’d still been rather pouty.

The edges of his form pulled and shifted as humour flittered through his mind. She clung to our offspring. She’d been rather adamant about holding them, even when he’d requested that they be handed over to him for inspection.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that would be his reaction, considering how much they’d changed in such a short period of time.

Thinking of her, and them, an oval disc formed with black sand sprinkling along its edges.

Lindiwe appeared, as did their offspring.

With their serpent tail coiled around her upper arm, they rested their humanoid torso over her shoulder.

They slept with the bottom of their white snake skull pressed just below the corner of her stern jaw, and they didn’t seem to mind when she turned her head around to look through the forest.

He’d been unable to return them to her family home, as usual, forcing her to reform at the edges of his mist that trickled around the Veil. Lindiwe had not returned to the farm, muttering something about how she thought it was time she left it anyway.

He figured that was due to their offspring, who had tripled in size when they obtained their skull, bones, and tail. I doubt any humans will find the creature pleasant to look upon. From the memories he’d flicked through, he’d learned humans were easily frightened by unknown things.

Lindiwe had stated it was safer for both of them to ostracise herself from society until they discovered more about them.

Their soul changed shape along with them. He thought back to when he first held them as they currently were and had been amazed at the change. Their soul also now swirled with more orange, although the multicolours of their spirit still remained.

They were taking shape, were growing, and after watching her interact with them over the passing months of his waking, he knew he’d chosen his female well. She was caring, considerate, and had adapted to cherishing them in her own way. Her heart had realigned in a way he doubted most humans could.

Surprisingly, the grass and flowers around him wilted, and he paused in reaction to seeing it. He pondered on the reason why, and could only come up with one excuse for their decay.

Perhaps I’m a little jealous.

She spoke to a speechless being, who obviously lacked any understanding, but she refused to give him even a moment of her time. Did humans always stay vexed for this long, or was it just her?

There was something about his voice, or tone, or perhaps the mannerisms in which he spoke, that she found off-putting.

I do have a tendency to be philosophical. Does she find this argumentative? Weldir couldn’t quite help his esoteric nature.

The world in which he was born was entirely different to hers. The lifestyle of the Elves was shared with him from the moment he was born, his mother sharing her memories with him while he’d been confined and trapped.

What Lindiwe thought and believed didn’t always align with his own morals and imagery. Her belief in higher beings, and her human emotions, ideologies, and morals, often clashed with the lack of his own.

I’ll work on this. He would try to be more human for her.

But that’ll require I study more souls. He was not human, nor was he even an Elf.

He wasn’t mortal, and he knew that meant he lacked comprehension of her capricious emotions.

Her heart was tangled and indoctrinated with principles he just couldn’t understand, as he’d never felt nor experienced any through generational upbringing.

First, though, he thought, as the grass and wildflowers around him sprouted in vibrancy, and he took another step onto the inky ground and more grew. First, I must grow Tenebris.