“I can have Emerie back?” he asked.
“Yes,” she bit out.
“And… she will not leave me again?”
Her features softened, and the corners of her lips curled knowingly, as if she could already tell what he desired. “Only for a day, but that is as long as you will be forced to miss her. She will come back to you, no matter how far you are from each other.”
Ingram’s tail tip curled in hopeful delight. “Then yes, this is all I care about.”
He just wanted her, his pretty little butterfly.
She was all he needed to be at ease in this world.
Ingram didn’t care to look back at Faunus, Orpheus, or their brides, and for some reason, Magnar and Delora were nowhere in sight. His vision was focused on the tear of white light before him that had formed after Weldir, the spirit of the void, had torn apart a soul.
Apparently, the Witch Owl could be called to his dominion by nothing but his thoughts, as they were connected, but Ingram needed a portal.
Although he was part of life and death, he couldn’t pass through spaces and existences freely. Assistance was required, and Weldir was willing to sacrifice his own strength to do so for Ingram’s sake.
Without hesitation about the unknown that lay before him, he entered it.
What lay on the other side was… nothingness.
Yet, the blackness wasn’t frightening, or sinister, or even cold. It just was, as if nothing existed here, not even light.
In its own way, it was… comforting. It felt safe.
Darkness stretched across the vast horizons that were unseen. There were no edges, no lines telling him which way was up or down. Even though there was no ground, he was still able to step forward on all fours, as though he was walking across something solid, but invisible.
Strangely, the Witch Owl appeared to be walking on a higher, non-existent level. It made her short height tower next to him.
Her hair delicately floated around her head, and her loose corkscrew curls waved back and forth with each of her movements. The barn owl feathers attached to her cloak also raised as the seams of it opened.
Two creatures lifted away from her. It was hard to see them with the darkness, and it was only possible due to the fact that their skin was not true black, but a dark grey. Only one had a small skull, but he didn’t have enough time to see what kind.
The two baby Mavka kicked and swiped at the air as they were both sucked in a certain direction.
A figure materialized, one Ingram had never seen before.
Much of his chalky and black glittering form was missing. Half of his face was visible, starting from one twisty horn sitting just above his temple to the opposing jaw. The shoulder on that side was gone, as was most of his chest, stomach, and the opposing leg other than the foot. He was also missing a knee, along with his right arm except for his hand.
Hands reached out and took hold of the baby Mavka so he could cradle them across his forearms, and they instantly turned into transparent white versions of themselves upon touch. The only part of him that never disappeared was the arm holding the two younglings, who lay upon it as though peacefully asleep.
He was tall, perhaps even more so than any Mavka Ingram had ever met, and he was lean, with only the smallest amount of muscle.
Parts of his body slowly withered from him like ash, while others formed like mist and cloud. The outline shape of his essence constantly changed, but he always appeared… half created, or less so – never more.
Once he had contained the younglings on one arm, he reached his hand out to Lindiwe.
His voice was echoey, soft, and so distant it was like he was speaking from another realm entirely. “Hello, my little owlet.”
She hesitated, but then drifted towards him.
Her hand reached out to his, but she only went through it, as though she couldn’t touch him. That was, until she turned incorporeal like a Ghost, and contact was made possible.
The spirit of the void dragged her closer, and she floated gracefully. He didn’t bring her into his side, nor hold her affectionately as she turned to face Ingram.
“You have come a long way,” Weldir stated, attempting to turn his chalky face to him. It disappeared entirely within the motion, and only the upper half of his face coalesce to reveal two horns, similar to Aleron’s thick, backward twisting spirals.
“Where is Emerie?” Ingram asked, searching for her in the vast amount of darkness.
“She is neither here nor there,” he cryptically answered. “She is with us, but is not.”
The soft growl that bubbled from Ingram was muffled by the thick air around him… or lack thereof? He wasn’t very adept at understanding what most people said, so it wasn’t wise to speak with him in riddles.
Weldir let out a small chuckle.
“She is within me, little one,” Weldir stated. “Currently, where you stand is in my consciousness. This is the only safe entry point in which we may speak.”
Little one? Ingram had never been called small.
“Then how do I enter you?” Ingram asked, eyeing him for a way inside his body.
That didn’t seem possible. Weldir may be large, but not enough to fit Ingram within him, or even Emerie.
“She is in my stomach, or rather, the path to Tenebris is through it.” He waved his hand to the side, as if gesturing to something. “It is part of me, while also being separate. I am a soul eater. That was my purpose when born, since I formed with a realm within me.”
Ingram sat back on his hind legs and gripped his skull in confusion. None of this made sense, and the blank spaces within his mind gave no insight.
“Emerie is in Tenebris,” Lindiwe further explained, her voice echoey but not as much as Weldir’s.
“Then bring her here,” Ingram whined, releasing his skull so he could hold his hands out beseechingly.
“He cannot do that,” Lindiwe stated. “When he takes a soul from there, it is at random.”
“Why?”
“Can you reach into your own stomach and know for certain what you have taken?” Weldir asked. “Would you know what corner of your stomach you have placed something? Once a soul is eaten, it is lost to the thousands of others that have been placed there.”
“Tenebris is huge, Ingram. It is vast,” explained the Witch Owl.
“Then why eat her at all?” Ingram asked. “Why did you not bring her to me when she… died?”
“When my magic on Earth shrouds a soul, it cleanses and brings it here. I have no idea whom they belonged to while I eat them, and I have eaten many others in the time since then. She was lost amongst them.”
“Then how did you know that her soul survived at all to be eaten?”
“Because I was there,” Lindiwe said, her ghostly features crinkling. “When Emerie shattered the sun stone, I was close enough to watch Jabez’s castle crumble around itself, and her soul floated through it, unharmed. However, the force had pushed me so far back that by the time I was about to collect it so I could keep it safe, Weldir’s shroud took it. It is unconscious and indiscriminate.”
“And it touches this entire world, not just the lands you roam. Emerie’s soul was not the only one that was taken at that time, so I cannot even track which soul was hers or where I placed her in Tenebris once I consumed her.”