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The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when she realised what he meant, and it sent a horrible chill down her spine.

He wanted his kind to eat more humans, like a humanity-growing food source.

It reminded her of the danger he did possess, even if his words were kind and his expressions were warm.

He saved one woman, but he saw no issue with the deaths of many more. Then again, that had been a long time ago and his mindset may have changed. If it happened today, would he have saved that woman like he’d done then?

Who knew? But maybe watching him to do that for a stranger, a female of a different species, someone weaker, was why she had returned to this waterfall when he asked it of her. It still resonated with Lindi, and had since that day.

I don’t think I should keep coming here, though.

It did pose a lot of risks, and she didn’t actually know what his motives were. It could all be a ruse, and she knew she’d find that more hurtful than she wanted to believe.

With that thought in mind, and the fact that an all-too-comfortable quiet fell upon them like it did the day before, she looked out across the Veil.

Where they were was just high enough to look over most of the trees, giving her a view of endless green.

The sun shone over much of it, although where they were was in the shade to protect him.

I guess it feels wrong defying Weldir like this. Her gaze slipped to Jabez, who was looking out at the forest as well. Then again, I’m not really doing anything bad.

They were just two people sitting there, sharing a few breaths and space.

Lindi looked down at her lap as she fidgeted with her fingers. “Do the Demons live as long as you?”

“Hmm. Most. We are noticing those who have eaten more humans than Elves are ageing at a much faster rate, though.”

“I see.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I’m finding it difficult to return to humankind, or even the Anzúli, for that reason. They... age so quickly, and yet I remain as I am.”

“Because you’re not the same, Lindiwe,” he answered in a dark tone, one that dripped with stoicism. “It comes from being other. No matter how much you look the same, you will always be set apart because of it.”

He said it with so much weight, and the truth of it settled heavily upon her already weary shoulders.

Becoming a Phantom came with its pitfalls.

She couldn’t reveal what she was to other humans who didn’t have a large Anzúli influence.

She couldn’t make genuine connections, as she’d inevitably leave to continue her duties for Weldir, and the likelihood that they’d be much older and almost a new person by the time she saw them again was what she found off-putting the most.

Even with the Anzúli she felt like an outcast.

They easily brought her into their fold, but there were secrets she wasn’t privy to, and there were rituals she wasn’t allowed to attend. She was other – to them, to everyone. Even to Jabez.

And especially to Weldir, who barely understood her humanness.

“It’s isolating when you’re the only one,” Jabez continued, leaning forward to interlace his fingers between his spread thighs.

He kicked his feet subtly back and forth over the ledge.

“I know that all too well. Even if you’re accepted, it’s only to a certain degree, whether that’s because you put up walls or they do.

I’ve felt that here, as well as in my home realm. ”

A small breeze made her curls sway around her shoulders and shifted his short hair around his ears and horns. She looked at their hard, tapered lengths, wondering why they didn’t bother her as much as they should.

And when his red eyes connected with hers, she didn’t find them as sinister as other Demons.

Why do I feel drawn to him?

Why did his red eyes not feel evil, but rather seemed to hold a note of kindness in them?

Or am I seeing things that don’t exist because I want to?

“Will... you tell me how you came to be on Earth?” Lindi muttered, refusing to avert her eyes. It was a question she’d once asked Weldir, although his answer was rather vague.

His mist gave him the ability to touch this world, and another deity opened his prism near the portal at the centre of the Veil to allow him to spread it here. She didn’t understand how that was possible, and why that meant his realm was connected to this one.

He’d merely concluded his puzzling explanation with, “That is how it was done.”

Jabez’s gaze darkened, hardened, and revealed that his aloof personality could be twisted at times. “I imagine he’s already told you. Why ask me to bring up painful memories?”

Lindi shrunk a little under his piercing, cold crimson eyes. “Because sometimes people layer biases in their version of a story. I want to hear it from you, to hear your side.”

His full lips tightened into flat lines, and he looked away. “Let me consider it for a bit. It’s not something I’ve spoken about in a while, and my memories are... unclear.”

“It might make me trust you more,” she said with a playful grin so large it revealed all her flat teeth.

“Trust through pity is the saddest form of bonding.” His eyes slipped back to her, and when they connected gazes, they held each other’s with strength.

His nose wrinkled on one side and he groaned.

“Fine, I will tell you part of my story.” Then he pointed his index finger right at her face.

“But if you give me a sappy fucking look, I will cease speaking and leave.”

With a hand over her heart and her grin returning, triumphant now, she said, “I promise I won’t.”

She wouldn’t, simply because she’d hate the very same thing.