Page 144 of A Soul to Steal

Aleron’s wings drooped in disbelief, not expecting Gideon to ask him to come with him.

Although Gideon didn’t say it aloud, he didn’t particularly want to do this alone. He was asking the Duskwalker for a lot by requesting this, and he didn’t want to hurt Aleron needlessly when Gideon could just bring him along.

He hoped it alleviated the worst of the Duskwalker’s anxieties.

So, when night could shroud their approach, they flew over it. No humans dared to walk the streets, but many candles lit the insides of homes and glowed through thin curtains.

Gideon pointed in the direction he wanted them to go and immediately saw a rundown home on the outskirts of the town. He asked for Aleron to land, and they found a flat rooftop to softly descend on top of.

His taloned toe tips and feet were surprisingly agile and silent.

Just as Aleron was about to put him down, Gideon clutched his dense biceps and shook his head.

“There’s no need. I don’t want to stay here long.”

He pointed to a house pressing against many others, which actually had a second level that was separated from the first. Like most of the poorer side of town, families lived closely cluttered together. The dilapidated building was in even worse condition than when he’d last seen it, which was over twelve years ago, if he counted the eight he’d missed. He’d tried not to come to this part of town often.

Grime stained the outer walls. Many bricks had started to decay to the point it completely leaned against the house directly next to it. It was falling apart, unloved, but too used to be demolished and rebuilt.

The houses next to it weren’t faring any better.

“That’s where I lived with my birth parents.”

Aleron said nothing and allowed Gideon to take in its deteriorating state. At least the last time he’d seen it, it’d been standing upright on its own.

It’s changed so much.

Even the street leading it to look filthier and rundown.

When he was done, he gestured for them to leave.

He directed for them to go more towards the centre of the town. One minute they were travelling over buildings that had seen better days, then the houses became nicer. Many had been freshly rebuilt or painted, and not a single one had a hole in its straw or a clay tile missing from its roofing.

It took him a while to find the house he wanted to see, and he made Aleron circle a certain area a few times. When he finally did, they landed on a balcony where the house lacked light – either it was unoccupied, or everyone was on the first level.

It’s really gone.

The house he’d grown up in, which had been in near immaculate condition when he’d died, no longer existed. The houses it had once sat between had char marks; the evidence of being next to a house in flames but being far enough away from it that they didn’t burn along with it.

What stood there now was a completely new building. Candles lit it from within, the evidence of a new family residing in it.

“This is where I died,” Gideon muttered, wanting to explain what they were looking at. He pointed to the ground where he knew they’d argued before pointing to the new building. “Mine and Emerie’s home used to be here, before it burnt down.”

As much as seeing it weighed on his conscience, it allowed him to finally feel... disconnected from this place. His home no longer existed, and therefore, his presence within this street and part of town didn’t exist. The past was real, the evidence of time passed, and he hadn’t been alive for any of it.

He and his home disappeared the same night.

When he absorbed all this, guilt prickled his nape as he gestured for them to go to another location. He made Aleron follow a set of streets, only knowing the way from how he’d walked to their destination. Once they were in an odd sectionof the town, where the better off and the poor sections began to blend together, he found the last place he wanted to visit.

Aleron landed on a slanted straw roof, and in the security of his arms, Gideon mulled over what he wanted to do. The house looked the same, well-maintained and cared for. The lights were on, but the question was: did the same person live here?

Something caught his eye – a cat statue sitting in a tiny strip of garden that lacked any flowers.

Upon seeing it, he knew for certain the same person lived within this dwelling.

With his voice hoarse and thick from emotion, he rasped, “Aleron, can you quickly drop me onto the street below?”

His claws dug into Gideon’s arm and leg as if he didn’t want to let go, but he eventually nodded. Aleron quickly did as he was asked, and Gideon barely had the chance to catch himself when Aleron flew down, dropped him off, and lifted off without ever touching the ground.

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