“People don’t come back from the afterworld, Ingram. It’s not a place you and I can go while we’re still alive.”
“You don’t know this,” he argued defensively.
“I do,” she answered, making her words stern. “I know you want him back, just like I want Gideon back, but that’s not how life works. Death is permanent.”
He dismissively wagged his head from side to side. “For a human, perhaps.”
“For everything. It doesn’t matter what creature, whether they be human, animal, Demon, or even a Duskwalker.”
“The Witch Owl said that Mavka are life and death. That we are limbo.” When she opened her mouth to refute him, his blue orbs turned bright crimson, and he jerked forward to growl. “You are wrong, Emerie,” he snarled, his voice changing into the monstrous one she’d always heard, but it was startling with him more humanoid like this.
She flinched and threw her hands up like she was warding him back and surrendering. “Okay. I’m wrong,” she conceded, unwilling to further upset him.
If that was what he wanted to believe, then she would let him. Who was she to say otherwise? He was a Duskwalker, and humans knew very little about them.
Maybe he was right. She was even hoping that was the case, and if not... well, that was his battle to face. If she was still alive for it, she would just try to comfort him through it.
It was said there were five stages to grief: anger, denial, depression, bargaining, and acceptance – although not necessarily in that order.
She knew, for certain, Ingram was stuck in the denial phase. She wondered if his level of humanity was capable enough to transcend into acceptance, or if he would be stuck in this state forever.
Hope could be a cruel master. It could make people do reckless and stupid things... like a Duskwalker asking Demonslayers for aid.
Or trying to kill the Demon King.
At least if I stay with him, I might be able to convince him not to do anything... foolish.
Sitting on the ground with his tail curled around his crossed legs, Ingram kept his arms folded across his chest. Although his body was facing Emerie, his head was purposefully directed away from her.
“If you keep sulking, I’ll treat you like a kid,” she playfully bit out.
Orbs red and his tail tip tapping against the ground in irritation, he huffed in answer.
“Awww, come on. Don’t be like that.” When he didn’t settle, she walked in front of his face and put her hands on her ample hips. “I already said I was sorry.”
Ingram rotated his head until it was behind him and threatening to come back around the other side. In his peripheral, he noticed she stuck her tongue out at him.
He’d never seen her do this before, but her scrunched-up features informed him he was upsetting her. Then it was even more obvious when she threw up her hands, rolled her eyes, and stormed out of sight.
It was done at him in retaliation.
So Ingram spun his head around and did it back at her, sticking his purple tongue out past the tip of his beak.
“Rude!” she exclaimed, plopping her arse upon the grass. “How dare you do that back to me! You’re lucky you’re cute, otherwise I wouldn’t offer for you to come sit next to me while I sleep.”
“I do not want to be near you,” he grumbled, hating how his tail coiled in delight that she’d called him cute.
She’d never called him that before, but he remembered Raewyn, his Elf friend, had done so and explained what it meant. Cute, adorable – he liked these things.
She had better not be pacifying him, though. She’d been doing that all evening.
I can return Aleron to this world. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know when, but he refused to believe anything else regarding it.
He didn’t like that she’d tried to convince him otherwise.
In his mind, he could not exist without his kindred. So, if he was still here, then a part of Aleron was as well. They were one, and that would cross time and space. It was the only reason why the ball of ice in his chest hadn’t frozen his heart and stopped it from beating.
It was the only reason he was still moving, and wasn’t a crying heap in the forest, waiting to be eaten by Demons.
“Come on, bird brain,” Emerie cooed, patting the spot next to her. “You know you want to.”
“Bird brain?” he rasped, rearing his head back. “You insult me and expect me to come closer?”
Her lips curled in humour. “It wasn’t an insult, Ingram.”
He unfolded his arms and pointed a claw at her. “Only Merikh calls me this. I did not understand it before, but I think he meant I was stupid.”
Now that he looked back on those times, Merikh, the red-orbed Mavka, only said this to him when he did something silly. Actually, he said it to both him and his kindred.
She propped her elbow on her bent knee and rested her cheek against her enclosed fist. Her humour brightened, making her blue eyes glow.
“Did you know that birds are a highly intelligent species?”
“No? They do nothing but peck at the ground and squawk.”
“That’s not true. They can scavenge and puzzle food from humans even if we have preventative measures in place. They set up traps to lure prey like small rodents. They even remember faces, and tell each other who to avoid and who to befriend. We teach them to carry messages for us. Ravens, in particular, are very wise creatures.”
Ingram reached up to stroke down his beak. “I have that bird’s skull.”
“I know,” she answered warmly, her eyes glinting mischievously.
Wise? This is the word she thinks of when she looks upon my face? Once more, his tail curled in delight.
She was trying to please him, and to his dismay, it was working.
When he took too long to move, she gave him a sigh and laid back. Turning on her side, she brought her knees up and tucked her hands under her marred cheek. She curled up on top of her sleep bag, as if she preferred it to cushion her rather than warm her.
He’d noted a while ago that she always began her sleep by lying with her scarred side face down.
Ingram shifted his position until he was on his hands and feet, and crouch-walked until he was near her. With an oomph, he laid down behind her with his back touching hers, unwilling to face her when he was still upset.
Emerie turned, causing him to stiffen. She stroked his side.
“I really am sorry for upsetting you.” He huffed in response, selfishly refusing to answer in hopes she would keep stroking him. “Fine, I’ll leave it be. Just don’t fall asleep, okay? I’ll take the early watch so you can get a few hours in before we set off again.”
Ingram didn’t see the point in her watching over him while he slept. Her protection felt very mediocre, considering she was such a little human who wouldn’t be able to fend off anything dangerous. If Ingram wanted to, he could easily pick her up by the back of her shirt and toss her.
After a little while, her hand languidly slipped down his back and her breaths evened out into light huffs. He rotated his head so he could look over his shoulder, inspecting whether she was truly unconscious.