“What is a mummy and a daddy?” He spun his head around to look at her with yellow orbs. “I also do not know what love is.”
Fuuuuuuuck, she internally groaned. I’m out here doing a saint’s work. The gods better smile upon me. Maybe not human gods, but Duskwalker ones – if they had them.
“When two people care about each other very deeply, they come together and make a baby.” When his damn head tilted again, she quickly spoke before he could interrupt her with another freaking question. “A baby is a small human. They are made within a woman’s… belly. But they didn’t eat them! Just to clarify. There’s a special place inside us that can grow life, and that’s what she did. She grew you inside her and then gave birth to you. She gave you blood and breath, and she is the reason you are here.”
His beak opened, and then clipped shut. He faced forward so he could watch where he was going.
Emerie cringed. “Does any of that make sense?”
“I think so… She is a creator of life. I did not know other creatures could do that.”
Okay, so that’s a good start.
“Yes, and it requires both a male and female – most of the time. They come together, and once they make a baby, that child will call them mother and father, or mum and dad.” She shrugged with one arm. “Really depends on the kid. So, if she is the mother of all Duskwalkers, that means she grew all of you, and you all share her blood. You are related and have a special bond unique to all of you. Brothers are usually your male siblings, and sisters are females.”
“I don’t think there are any females of my kind.” He paused momentarily, his beak lifting up. “Brothers… then why is my kindred so special to me?”
Absolutely stumped, her brows furrowed. “Kindred?”
He was quiet for a long while, unusually so. Why was that worrying?
“Aleron,” he uttered quietly. “It is what we called each other. He is all I have ever known. He is the first thing I remember. His scent, his warmth, his presence. I cannot think of a time he was not by my side… until now.”
Until now… she was afraid of what that meant.
“He sounds like he is your brother. Do you know if he was born before or after you?”
“Lindiwe said before, but… another Mavka, Kitty, said we were created at the same time. Is that possible?”
“Oh, Ingram,” Emerie rasped, her voice laden with sympathy as understanding dawned. Her eyes crinkled in sadness for him. “If you were born into this world at the same time, that means he was your twin. That’s probably why your bond with him was so special. Many twins are inseparable and often feel like halves of each other.”
Emerie bit her lips together, clamping them shut when his torso shuddered. He kept walking, but his steps seemed heavier, like he was weighed down.
Just as bubbles of glowing blue floated around his skull, right where his empty eye sockets were, a tiny, agonised whine escaped him.
“I do not like this conversation. I do not like learning we were… more.”
Leaning forward, she rubbed the side of his thick neck, hoping it felt soothing. He tilted his head to watch her hand, and it revealed that she’d been right. The floating bubbles around his face had been ethereal tears.
I didn’t think Duskwalkers could… cry. How heartbreaking.
“You must have loved him very deeply.” She clenched her jaw, swallowing the thick lump of emotion in her throat. “And you must miss him terribly.”
Because, if he was not by Ingram’s side when they’d been inseparable, then… he was likely dead.
His whimper hollowed out her heart and replaced it with a big chunk of himself.
She gave him a small, sad smile as she continued to pet him. “If it makes you feel any better, I know how it feels. I lost someone really dear to me as well. It hurts when I think about them, and I think about them every single day.”
“It does not,” he rudely answered. “Aleron was special. We were… are the same being. There is no me without him.”
And yet here Ingram was, bravely facing the world on his own. Well, not completely, since she was here, but she also knew she probably meant little to him.
She was just a human who had decided to tag along.
I guess I don’t know how it feels to lose a twin, she thought, lifting her face to the dusk-stained sky throwing orange and purple across the horizon.
But I did lose my adopted brother, and that hurts too. She bit her lip at the clouds, remembering his face as clear as she saw those puffs of white. And he’s the reason I started all this… He’s the reason I’m here now, with you.
Emerie opened her mouth to explain this to him. She’d suffered loss, not just with her adopted brother, but also her parents. She’d lived in pain – physically, mentally, and emotionally – for weeks, perhaps even months, afterwards.
The world had chewed her right up and then spit out a woman who was lost.
Ingram was not alone in his pain, and she wanted him to know just how much she could relate to him. She hoped it might comfort him in some small way.
However, she promptly shut her lips. Not everyone understands that trauma sharing is bonding.
Not everyone understood that when someone shared their pain with another who had just spoken of their own, the person was just trying to relate. To show them they cared and were someone they could truly lean on who didn’t need to imagine how they’d felt, but rather remember it on a deeply ingrained level.
Unfortunately, it could often be misconstrued as a competition. Or sometimes people took offense to it, thinking they were belittling their pain, or trying to make it feel insignificant.
Emerie quietly sighed through her nose as the floating bubbles glittered faster around his skull. He was still crying his mournful, ethereal tears.
He isn’t very smart. I don’t want to accidentally make him feel bad if he takes it the wrong way.
She also didn’t want to prolong a conversation he already mentioned he didn’t like. He must still be grieving. Loss for humans is difficult to accept, so I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for a Duskwalker.
And, coupled with the fact he’d recently gone through a terrible ordeal back in Zagros Fortress, Emerie could only guess how messed up his mind was.
The fact he was gentle with her at all was a miracle.
She chewed her bottom lip and her eyes crinkled in sympathy for his anguish.
I want to make him feel better, though.
Ingram wished his chest would stop hurting. Why did it have to feel physical? Like a part of him was missing just as much as his kindred, his… twin.
There was a wound just below the surface, right where his heart was. It was cold, like a ball of ice had grown there to replace it so he didn’t bleed out.
If it wasn’t for the little female on his back, he would have attempted to claw at his flesh and dug until he removed it.
He tried to focus on her, on the warmth of her, the weight of her, how she stroked his neck. He tried to take in her pretty scent, or her little fluttering heart, the comfort of her breath.
When that didn’t help, he looked for something around them to take his mind off the unbearable ball of ice. The smell of the grass and dirt, the sap of trees. There were a few small skittering animals, and even a squawk of a bird.