I really hope that’s true.
She squeezed him tighter with all her might, hoping he could feel the strength of emotions she was trying to convey.
“We’ll be waiting for you.”
Standing in his more humanoid form, Ingram stared down at Aleron on all fours. Aleron tipped his snout down to his feet before trailing it back up to his short, upward-jutting goat horns.
Before he left his kindred, he wanted to teach him and show him as much as he could. Hopefully it would help him in the future.
It would have helped Ingram had he known about all his abilities. His body, how to sheath his claws, that he could mimic the way humans walked.
I don’t want to leave him, Ingram thought with his sight turning blue. Yet, he faced Emerie instead, who was standing right next to his kindred. But I must.
Finally, Ingram dipped his head towards Weldir.
“We are ready,” he stated, lifting his claws towards Emerie, wishing she could take his hand.
Even though she couldn’t, she still played pretend with him and hovered her palm above his own. She came to his side.
“Good, because you are almost out of time,” Weldir stated, what remained of his face dropping to the last, palm-sized amount of flesh remaining right where Ingram’s sternum was.
“Actually, I do have one question for you,” Emerie stated, turning to Weldir. “Did I do it? Did I destroy the Demon King?”
Weldir was silent for a moment, and the hand that was visible tightened. “I am not sure.”
Emerie’s brows furrowed deeply. “What do you mean you’re not sure?”
“I can no longer sense his magic, nor have I seen him among the rubble of his castle from my viewing discs, but my mist has not touched his soul.” He waved his hand through the air, his claws pointed upwards. “It may have been destroyed since it belonged to a half-Demon, but an Elf’s soul is blue. If I had touched it, I would have noticed immediately when I tried to eat it. But yes, for now, we believe he was destroyed. That is all we can hope for.”
“I guess that’s better than nothing. I’ll be really angry if he survived after that, though.”
“So will we.” A small chuckle left him. “Now, this will not hurt.”
That was the only warning he gave as he shoved his hand into Emerie’s spirit. Thankfully she’d already said her goodbyes to Aleron and Gideon because, once he yanked his hand out, she disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Instead, a small, white flame became visible in Weldir’s tight fist. Ingram couldn’t see the body of her soul, but he knew it was there.
Ingram held his hand out for it, but the part of Weldir’s face that showed his lips smirked.
“Not quite yet,” he stated. “First, you must leave the way you came in.”
“I don’t understand.”
Weldir disappeared in a mist of glittering black sand with that smirk still in place.
Was he supposed to walk back? He inspected his chest. I will not make it. There was only a little of him left, and it had taken a long time to get here. He also didn’t know the way.
He stepped back from Aleron and Emerie’s brother, only to flip upside down like someone had grabbed his feet and tail. He began lifting off into the sky.
At first, he panicked, but that was short-lived. He’d fallen from the sky, was that what Weldir meant by him needing to leave the way he came?
He looked down to find Aleron before he was too far through the mist.
He expected to find his kindred staring up at him. Instead, Aleron had pointed his skull towards Gideon, and even flared his wings slightly at the male as he dipped his chest low.
Ingram knew his kindred well enough to recognise his most curious stance. He’d made a friend here.
So, Ingram looked up to see where he was going. Before long, darkness surrounded him.
Then it was tight and cold again.
He felt the urge to yell when he was spat out of Weldir’s mouth, but that was only for the few seconds he was flying. He landed into the cushion of his gigantic hand, and was carefully placed on his feet before him, once more, standing on nothingness.
He was back to being his full Mavka self, grey skin, black scales and all.
Weldir shrunk his form until he was the same height as when he first met him.
A white and fluttering cloak caught in his peripheral. In her Phantom form, the Witch Owl lay on her side, curled up into a ball in the air. One baby Mavka had chosen to curl against her stomach between her knees and elbows, while the other lay sprawled on top of her side.
She seemed at peace while she slept. Vulnerable and not so... unnerving. She looked fragile, like the human she once was.
Weldir approached her, his form only visible by a foot, a hand, and half his face – including a horn. His chalky outline was disappearing, and there was little left of him.
He gingerly placed the only hand visible under her face. “Owlet, we have returned.”
Rather than flicking open in sudden alertness like he expected, she opened her eyes dozily, as if she felt safe in the environment in which she had been resting. It didn’t take her long to fully open her eyes.
When she did, she stood, brought her younglings back inside her cloak, and faced Ingram. For the first time, she appeared soft and meek as she rubbed the heel of her palm against her cheek.
“Emerie?” she asked.
“She is here.” Weldir brought a chalky hand forward and Emerie’s soul formed.
“Why is it white?” she asked.
Ingram had been wondering that too.
“It is currently a soul belonging to someone who is not alive. Once I bond it with Ingram, it will return to its normal colouring.”
Weldir approached, and Ingram met him in the middle, excited to bond with Emerie and have her returned to him.
Like he had before, he held his hand out for her soul.
He was able to see it now, as Weldir held his palm flat and it floated above it.
Her posture was straight with her legs closed, and one hand covered her left shoulder, while the other held her right hip. Her long hair floated above her like she’d been dropped into water.
Ingram could see where her many scars were, not just her burns but also claw marks. They appeared darker than the rest of her brightly glowing flame soul.
It looks like her, he thought with his orbs turning bright pink.
Weldir glanced down to Ingram’s reaching hand, and tsked.
“Today, little one, you will not be the soul eater you were meant to be.” When Ingram tilted his head at him, he sighed. “Your female is dead, and her soul can no longer be touched by any living Mavka. In order to make her your bride, I will have to attach the bonding threads myself.”
He floated so he could be just above Ingram’s skull, and he felt the tiniest bits of movement around his horns.
“Did she gift you this horn ornament?” Weldir muttered. “I hope if I ever have a physical form, that Lindiwe will do the same. I would like to be adorned with affection.”