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.”
Before Ingram knew it, Weldir backed up.
He didn’t feel different, other than in his gut, which had stopped gurgling. That was not something he had ever experienced – silence and lack of motion from his stomach.
Wanting to know if he could touch it now, Ingram reached between his horns. Warmth tingled his fingertips as he caressed it, and he kept his gaze on Weldir and Lindiwe to make sure he wasn’t doing something he shouldn’t.
Neither stopped him as he pulled Emerie’s soul from between his horns so that he could hold it in his palm. Bright yellow filled the edges of his vision as he inspected her yellowy-orange flame.
It was floating above his palm, asleep and with its arms resting in the air near its hair – like the few times she’d splayed across the ground after they were intimate, relaxed and sated. One leg was bent, while the other was straight. The position warmed Ingram. Even though it was naked and bared, showing little white flame markings where her scars were, it looked as though it felt safe and free now that it belonged to him.
It was slow to wake, but it eventually moved its arms and legs as it settled to stand upon his palm. Blue little dots opened upon its face as it tilted it up towards him.
Just as it was reaching its arms up to his skull, as though it wanted to embrace him, Weldir cut into his long-awaited moment.
“It’s time for you to leave and be with your bride,” he stated, just as a second white soul formed.
It hovered before him, before he stabbed the claws of both hands into its centre and tore it apart. A white rift formed like a tear in space.
Ingram didn’t even spare them a glance, nor did he waste any time so he could truly have his female back. Perhaps he should have thanked them, but they were the reason he had to go to them to obtain her soul in the first place.