I only have one heart.
And each beat of it told him to avenge his kindred. Each beat told him to do whatever it took to bring him back to life. Each beat bled agony into his veins, and all his mind could think to fix it was to kill Jabez, the Demon King, and then find a way to be sheltered within his Aleron’s strong, fluffy, encompassing wings.
Yet... an invisible force bit at him constantly. With sharp fangs, it threatened him from the inside to keep this pretty little butterfly safe and protected, or it would eat him alive.
He didn’t know what that meant, or why.
“I do not want you to come,” Ingram finally admitted. “You should stay here, where it is safe, until I return.”
A soft, warm, and delicate hand wrapped around his beak and tugged his skull down. Her glare was fierce, and adorable.
“Don’t even think about it. If you go, I go, that’s our deal. I didn’t come all the way to the Veil just to sit around twiddling my thumbs. You want to avenge Aleron, and I want to avenge Gideon. You don’t get to take that choice away from me.”
“But you are not a Phantom,” he quietly argued. “You don’t come back if you die.”
Emerie shrugged. “No, but I am the only human here that knows you. I may be the only one who can direct you to the Demon King if you go into a bloodlust, Ingram. You’re doing this for Aleron, so don’t worry about me. I’ll figure out a way to survive, just like I figured out a way to get us here safe-ish.”
Ingram wanted to argue with her but fell silent.
I want Aleron back more than anything... or anyone? Did he want his kindred back more than he wanted to keep Emerie alive?
His sight turning a darker blue made him unsure, especially when he didn’t know how to answer that question.
But my heart is already full of Aleron. Both cannot fit in it... can they?
Emerie stared down at the little baby Duskwalker who was sitting on top of the table, sniffing up at her with the oval point of their face. Thicker than the rest of it, two slitted nose holes opened and closed as they huffed.
Mayumi had already explained that everyone preferred to call baby Duskwalkers they or them, since they didn’t have a gender when they were born. Apparently the first human they ate would dictate their sex, so until then, they were considered androgynous.
They had no distinguishable features, lacked eyes, had jagged lines for sharp teeth and lips, and were such a dark grey that they almost appeared black. They were baby-shaped, and yet their softness made them sag into blobby creatures as if they didn’t have any bones or organs.
A clean slate of nothingness.
How the hell can you look so cute and yet so creepy at the same damn time?
Part of her wanted to push them away, another wanted to curl them into her arms and sing them a lullaby.
Mayumi and Faunus’ home was large, spacious, and had not a single other room or wall besides the outside ones. Everything had been placed into one open area, as if neither truly wanted nor needed privacy from each other.
A thick, dense mat had been rolled up and placed against the wall to make room on the floor, and she assumed that was their bed. It was close to the fireplace on the far-right wall, which was farthest from the front door she was currently facing. There was a back door that led straight into a garden, and to the left of it was the kitchen with open cabinets.
Emerie was seated at a large table that appeared to be able to fit the height of a Duskwalker, with a chair to match. There were two other smaller chairs, and she’d seen outside that a third was being made – one for each of the brides, she figured.
Two were filled currently, as Reia sat quietly across from her with Orpheus nowhere to be seen.
There was a massive bag chair, likely filled with wool, which Faunus was already sitting in and watching Mayumi from. It didn’t escape her notice that it was far from the fireplace, whereas a smaller version was much closer.
His feet were against the floor, his knees bent, with his arms slightly flopping to the sides. She could tell, if he chose to, he could have curled up and lain completely within it.
There wasn’t much else in the house in terms of furniture or decorations, but there was an impressive collection of weapons piled up to one side. A few had been fixed to the wooden walls by hooks and could easily be taken down.
The house was tall enough, she thought even Magnar’s imposing antlers wouldn’t come close to scraping the flat ceiling. In one corner of it there was a hatch with an attached ladder that led to an attic space.
The baby Duskwalker in front of her bawked up at her, and Emerie reached forward hesitantly to pat it.
“I wouldn’t get any closer if I were you,” Mayumi said as she moved around a small kitchen.
Emerie backed up and turned her face to the woman. “Why?”
Mayumi climbed down from a step stool after reaching for something from a top shelf. It was obvious it’d been made for Faunus’ height.
“Because,” Mayumi said, glancing back at her, “that one bites.”
That made Emerie stiffen.
With another bawk, the little Duskwalker opened their gaping maw on a yawn. Their purple tongue swiped across their entire face, and it oddly reminded her of a gecko licking its eye.
“We’ve taken to naming them what they’re like,” Faunus stated from his bag chair. His tail tapped and curled against the ground lazily, even when he moved to stroke his hand down the one lying on his sternum. “That one’s Bitey, this one is Sleepy.”
Her features crinkled into a frown. “You’re not going to give them proper names?”
Faunus shrugged as he let out the weirdest, snapping meow, and Bitey squealed as they bolted for him. They were surprisingly spritely and speedy.
“I was called Kitty for a long time until Mayumi gave me a new name. I was called something else by my mother, but I don’t remember it, and I don’t care to. They will also forget, so what’s the point when I would rather meet them and learn their proper names after they have found them?”
Emerie guessed that was one way to look at it.
Her gaze drifted to Ingram sitting on the floor by her, and he was staring at the babies across the room with dark-yellow orbs of curiosity. He’d tried to figure out a way to sit comfortably on the chair at the dining table but had been unsuccessful due to the thick, wide base of his tail.
Apparently, it was also the reason they hadn’t shoved a pair of pants at him, since it would just get in the way.
Once he turned his curious gaze to Emerie, she averted her eyes as quickly as possible. Don’t get any ideas, Duskwalker. To avoid him, she chose to look at Reia, who was just staring at the table with a heart-wrenching, despondent gaze.
She seemed lost, which was so different to the overconfident woman she’d met yesterday. By the dark and noticeable smudges under her eyes in comparison to her general paleness, it didn’t seem like she’d slept well.