Page 78

A time unknown, but one of companionship

The moment Weldir’s mind opened, the darkness within his sight receded. Floating amidst the nothingness, the highlighting shadows revealed the fragments of his offspring’s skull. The pieces were still, but slightly spread apart, seeming to glitter from the unknown and unreachable light.

He’d chosen to rest nearby it, like a part of Weldir wanted to be close to it for safekeeping. It resided in the same place Lindiwe’s mesmerising orange soul lived: the section of him that was his heart.

He often found himself sleeping near her soul, keeping her close, even when he was as far from her as possible. He’d been doing this for a long time, although he couldn’t quite place when he’d started. Now, with Nathair’s skull joining Weldir’s mate’s flame, he knew he’d likely rest here always.

The reminder of his offspring’s death was unpleasant, but beyond the sadness and cruelty of it all, he enjoyed having him near. He reached out to touch Nathair’s skull for the very second time in either of their lives. It was just unfortunate it had to be in the afterlife.

He waits for me, though.

Inside his consciousness, Nathair and many others waited for Weldir. Then again, that was always the case for those who were stuck in the limbo of Weldir’s realms.

Taken by the cloud of his mana, but not eaten and brought to Tenebris.

They had yet to greet the afterworld he’d created for them.

Instead of doing this task, Weldir had chosen to rest after destroying a human soul and using its energy to place himself at Lindiwe’s side in a time he thought she needed him most. He also let it consume him by shoving more energy in it just so he could remain with her longer than he should have.

It sapped much from him, leaving him with barely a tether of life – the current continuous dome she had placed around her didn’t help.

Then, rather than resting despite the fatigue, he’d kept himself awake to remain with her while she sobbed, wept, and grieved in his realm.

He placed rigid barriers around his body to hold her when his oily physical self depleted and disappeared, just so she didn’t have to be alone.

It was the most he could do, all things considered.

Like before, he’d found her pain unpleasant and saddening, but he revelled in the fact that she’d voluntarily leaned upon him.

It shouldn’t have come at such a cost, but he’d take the only good he could find in an otherwise horrible situation.

But I cannot think of such things now.

He formed a viewing disc to check on her, finding she was asleep under the side of a short cliff, the rocks jagged enough below that it created a shelter. Their newest offspring had climbed their way into her hair like an added blanket and was curled up in the recently combed strands.

He watched for a little longer than he should have, taking in the sight of his own female greedily.

Until the sun rose and began to caress her bent elbow with dappled light.

A cloud quickly shaded it before once more drifting away, and he turned the disc’s view to see the sky was not clear, the threat of rain prevalent.

Seeing all was well with his mate, he blinked himself into one of his alternate existences and materialised with hundreds of tainted souls around him. He pushed them away with nothing but the force of his mind to create a spacious path.

In the middle lay a large, folded orange soul. It didn’t appear like a flame, other than the little sputters that puffed from its lengthy body. It looked more ghostly, like a spectre, and was the same size as his alive self.

Weldir looked upon his son’s strange soul, fully intact, asleep like all the others, and tangible to him. It was divinely magnificent.

It looks like just like him, minus the physical, living aspects.

It was far too large for him to consume at the size he kept himself for Lindiwe’s comfort.

Weldir expanded himself until Nathair’s spirit was barely the size of his palm.

He grabbed it by the bend of its tail, lifted it until it folded in half and was hovering above his head, and opened his mouth.

Then he gently placed him on his tongue until he was safely within the cavern of his mouth, and swallowed.

The moment he felt Nathair’s spirit enter through his throat and out into his stomach, he vanished from his current location.

The giddiness he felt was foreign, and by all rights wrong, but he was excited to meet him properly. He’d never spoken to any of his offspring, and the chance to interact with one personally provoked a sense of relief.

Here, in this friendless realm, he may no longer have to be alone.

They could both be cursed here, yet together.

He followed the tether that fated them together, sire and offspring, the string black and orange like a twisting twine. At the other end, Nathair, who no longer looked like a spectre but his normal, alive self, lay sleeping in the middle of a vast meadow Weldir had made.

Pushing down long stalks of grass and lying in the false sunlight Weldir provided, Nathair’s long body was folded on itself like most snakes when they rested. His head and torso were somewhere within there, as he could see a meaty arm wedged halfway out of it.

Then Nathair shifted, and he swallowed that arm into the coils of his tail to rest more comfortably.

“Nathair,” Weldir called, not surprised by the thickness in his voice, as though it was laden with emotion.

The slithering slide of his tail stopped, as if startled.

Nathair popped his head out from the very top, and black orbs flared into bright orange. They shifted to dark yellow as he tilted his white serpent skull and peered at Weldir for the very first time.

Weldir lifted his arms so that his offspring could see his black, glittery, and oily body better, trying his hardest to suck in his mist to give better dimension to who he was.

Nathair yanked an arm from his coils and pointed a black glossy claw at him. “What?”

“What am I?” Weldir asked, guessing his question. Nathair nodded. “I am Weldir, the creator of this world. I’m also your creator and father. I am made of mist and shadow. Of nothing and much.”

Nathair nodded as if he understood, only to shake his head when it was obvious he actually didn’t. He looked around.

“Where is... bear skull? Or...son. Where am I?”

He no doubt was searching for his brother, who likely would have normally been there had he not been killed.

Weldir lowered his arms and sighed for his benefit. “You are dead, Nathair.” Then he held his hands out and made his broken skull form in his hands. “Your skull was broken by Orson in your skirmish, and I brought you here. To Tenebris. To my realm.”

“Tenebris? What is... dead? Where is Orson ?” Nathair asked, before finally slipping his humanoid torso from the coil of his black tail, the sun casting a gleam of rainbows across his scales. “I find bear skull before he worries. We go home.”

He slithered off without any direction in mind, lifting his pointed snout to the air to smell for Orson.

He scratched at his nose and sneezed, as if he didn’t like the scents in the air.

He did it repeatedly, and Weldir made a mental note to ask him if the smells needed tweaking, as he himself couldn’t smell them whatsoever.

He just guessed from the human memories he’d dived into.

Weldir followed Nathair, concerned that his lack of humanity could make this transition more difficult. He had no idea how to explain the concept of death to a being that didn’t understand, despite being a part of its cycle.

When no idea of how to do so came to mind, Weldir grumbled. No wonder Lindiwe struggles with this.

It seemed like a difficult task. It was also disheartening that Weldir wouldn’t be able to relate to an entity that struggled to connect the dots within his own mind.

Luckily, Weldir was dauntless, and had plenty of time to assist in this endeavour.

He threw a viewing disc beside him. Lindiwe and their offspring, who bore a wolf skull but no horns or antlers, formed. I must have missed that she’d given them their skull when I checked earlier. She was hiding from the rain underneath the frond of a wide-leafed plant, cuddling them as she waited.

“I shouldn’t have left the cave,” she muttered angrily to herself. “If the rain doesn’t die down, we’ll head back.”

A glittering barrier of his own magic, as if he himself shielded her, sheltered her from what could be lurking in the shade of clouds and forest. She lay against the trunk of a tree, the shrubs and the branches above keeping her dry.

Their offspring was in her folded arms, partially hidden within her feathery cloak to keep them warm and safe.

He often worried for Lindiwe when he slumbered, as he wasn’t there for her when she may need him.

He had no idea if her voice calling out his name would ever stir him while he was unconscious, as he didn’t think she’d ever done so.

It was always a relief that she was well, even if she looked a little worse for wear.

Like now, she bore nasty cuts across her jaw, as if a Demon had struck her in the past few days.

I wonder if she got into another skirmish with one while obtaining this offspring’s skull.

Demons chased after the blood scent once she made her kill, or sometimes, although rarely, she stole their prey to give it to their offspring.

Next time I bring her to my realm, I will heal her of those cuts and any other scars. He did so every time she was here.

Still, she did not require his assistance just yet, although he would make a proper confirmation of that soon enough. So, he focused all his determination on the creature who needed him just as much. Perhaps even more.

He reached out and... touched Nathair’s tail.

With pressure pulling at his face, likely revealing a grin, Weldir didn’t care that he spooked him, and made him turn with a fang-filled hiss.

Nor when he unsolidified himself to escape the swipe of sharp claws so they passed through the ribbons of his body.

No, instead, he peered down at his senseless hand with awe.

He’s tangible to me, just like the other deceased. And he could sense he didn’t need to awaken Nathair from a stupor to interact with him, as if he... belonged here.

He’s like me. Here, alive within Tenebris.

He curled his hand into a fist, when the desire to reach out again struck him.

He couldn’t wait to teach Nathair all about this world, and the one he’d just left. To converse with another trapped here just as much as he was. To finally share life with another.

To finally have a son, in a real sense, even if it meant in his death.