Because Ingram refused to believe there was no way to bring Aleron back. He wouldn’t be without him for long – he knew this for certain.
However, first, he would change this world. He would make it safer for Aleron’s return. He would make it better. He would not see him perish twice.
Ignoring the Witch Owl, as she was of no significance to his constant and often erratic bouncing thoughts and attention span, he headed towards the forest. His sight drifted in the direction of the Demon King’s castle, and his orbs flared an even darker crimson.
Whether it was with Ingram’s last breath or the returning of Aleron’s, Jabez, the Demon King, would pay for this. He would learn what it felt like to have his skull crushed.
He had ordered for the death of all Mavka, and his actions had taken away the most precious creature to Ingram, who was not beneath vengeance. He would make sure it was painful, even if it had to be swift.
“Where are you going?!” The Witch Owl shouted as she ran to be in his way once more.
He gave her a warning snarl before stepping to the side.
“To the other Mavka, to bring back Aleron.”
He needed a direction, a task, something to give him hope, or he’d sit here digging for his heart for the rest of his life.
“He is gone, Ingram,” she answered with a sob. “The other Mavka cannot bring him back.”
He roared barely an inch from her nose.
“Then if he cannot come back, I will destroy everything that took him away from me!” He swiped his front paw at her, stabbing his claws into her side and dragging her to the ground. He was above her within a second. “I will start with you if I must!”
Just as he snapped his skull forward to shove her head into his maw, she turned intangible. She floated through him and backed up as he slowly gave chase, saliva flooding his mouth cavity.
He didn’t like that she could so easily escape him, but it also meant he was disinterested in fighting her. He had desires, and currently they wanted bloodshed – to hunt, maim, and eradicate the one creature he could truly blame.
“I want to help,” she stated, her voice echoey. “But if I could bring Aleron back, I would. I would have brought back the serpent-skulled Mavka years ago.” Then she turned physical and assumed a brave stance, facing him. “I am not your enemy, Ingram.”
“Then help me destroy the Demon King.”
“I will. I promise I will, but I still don’t know how to defeat him. At least, not in a way that won’t cost more of your lives. You need to be patient. Please, I promise.”
Her answer and following plea were insufficient.
“If you will not help me now, then I will go by myself.”
Her colour turned ashen. “You cannot go after him by yourself, Ingram. He will kill you.”
“Then I will make the other Mavka help me.”
He was sure they had just as much of a desire to kill the Demon King.
Just as he redirected his path to go to the northeast of the Veil, where the three Mavka he knew resided, she stepped in front of him again, arms open.
“You cannot go through the forest! You must leave the Veil, Ingram. You are without a ward or a home, and the Demons are waiting for you to leave this protection. It’s no longer safe for you here.”
“Then I will go around the forest!” he yelled, turning to the Veil’s canyon walls.
There was a path there that often got sunlight. He would walk along it.
She ran to intercept him once more, ducking when he tried to head-butt her with his small, sharp horns. He snapped his beak forward, but she only turned incorporeal to evade him and then back to physical to speak with him clearly.
“The other Mavka cannot help you either. They have brides, Ingram. Some of them have younglings. They either cannot or will not go with you.”
“I WILL destroy the Demon King. With or without your help, their help. I will bring Aleron back.”
“Unless we have an army to fight against Jabez’s, nothing you do will make a difference. You will not win. You will only die, and I cannot bear to see another one of my children perish!”
His head tilted at just one word of her entire rambling spiel. His skull made a rattling sound, as though it was empty of a brain and instead filled with bones.
He was aware there were many blank spaces within his thoughts, and that he was not wise nor knowledgeable. He could only retain so much information, and he could then only decipher so much of it as well.
A lot of what was said to him fell on uncomprehending ears.
“An army?” He paused so he could tap an index claw against his bone-white raven beak. “An army to fight an army?”
That made sense to him.
The biggest issue with getting to Jabez was the number of shadowy beasts in the way. He was sure, if it were just him and the Demon King, he would be able to remove his head.
Ingram only struggled with a fight when there were many foes, but he’d always won any that were more evenly matched.
The Witch Owl tilted her head, but it was her unsure expression that grabbed his attention. Why did she look so worried?
“What are you thinking?” Her tone sounded like a warning, one full of suspicion.
“You said I needed an army.”
“I said an army would be needed, but there is no army that would fight alongside us.”
“This is not true. There are others who want the Demons gone just as much as me.”
She was right. Ingram needed numbers if he wanted to get to the Demon King.
He turned away from the Veil completely, fickle with his decisions in his agitated state. He could scale the cliff wall with his claws, so he didn’t try to find an easier path to the surface world.
The Witch Owl grabbed his tail to yank him back with all her might, letting out a tooth-gritting yell as she did. “No! If you seek to ask the humans, you will not find any friends there.”
He flicked his tail to the side, ridding himself of her, and he began to climb.
The only thing that was keeping the loss at bay was his determination for vengeance. He would find an army, otherwise he feared he would quickly succumb to the nagging anguish that was festering within his chest, right below the surface of his flesh.
Had she not removed his head to bring him to the safety of Merikh’s ward, resetting his thoughts, Ingram may never have gained consciousness throughout his agony-filled rampage.
“Ingram, please! Stop!”
His sight shifted to a hopeless blue.
Aleron…
Staring up at the rocky ceiling of her tiny bedroom, Emerie noted the patterned lines of where the person wielding a pickaxe had carved out her room generations ago. Her nose twitched in irritation at the poorly done job.
With her head bobbing against her scratchy, hard, and uncomfortable bed, it was an odd detail to note… considering the action she was in the middle of.
I wonder what they’ll be serving for dinner tonight.
The food here at this impenetrable fortress was pretty bland, but at least it was hearty. She needed something right now to make her full, since she felt rather empty.
Something warm and wet slid over the arch of her neck, and she twisted her head to offer more surface to play with. Once she patted his head in reassurance, she resumed her thinking.
I’m glad I’m not part of the watch tonight.