Page 57 of A Soul to Steal

“You would have minded,” Weldir rebuffed. “I know better than anyone what it is like to be in that world and not be a part of it.”

Aleron glanced back at his creator, and witnessed him stare down at his palms as he opened and closed his misty hands.

“I also know how lonely it is to be by someone’s side and not be able to feel them, smell them, taste them. It rots you from the inside out, and it is a special form of agony. One which lingers in a heart you do not even have. A million words can’t replace a single, silent action.” Then, in a bid to make Aleron truly understand, he lifted his gaze and stated, “Like bringing down the comforting weight of your wing on your kindred when he needs it most.”

“But–”

“He’s not wrong, Aleron,” Gideon added from beside him. “Maybe you don’t realise it, but you speak with your wings alot. If they are an integral part of how you communicate, being unable to use them to express yourself would make things hard.”

He thought that may be true. Even now he had the longing to wrap one around Gideon. He’d spent many nights holding Ingram within the cocoon of them, and it had always felt right.

He likely would have missed it and felt the tingling ache to draw him into them. The constant denial likely would have weighed heavily on his conscience.

He remained silent, unsure if this revelation brought him comfort or not. He would have liked to have tried, rather than leaving Ingram completely on his own.

Maybe I could have stopped him from going to the Demonslayers.He could have prevented all the suffering he went through and perhaps continued to guide him – even in an empty existence.

He wouldn’t have met Emerie, but Aleron didn’t know if he cared. The Ingram he’d last seen was an internally wounded version of his other half. Even if he’d only been a purple spectre, he knew him well enough to know the sad notes of his deep voice, or the unsettled curl of his lizard tail tip.

Then again... I would not have met Gideon either,he thought, glancing at his little human.

And, if he were being truthful, the lack of his scent bothered him greatly. He wanted to taste him, and he knew the warmth they shared between each other to be only a fraction of what it was supposed to be. Thingsweremissing, important things that mattered.

He’d just accepted them because there was no other way, but it did nag at the back of his mind. His instincts told him something was amiss, but he chose to ignore it.

Is this what Weldir meant when he told Ingram that being here with his human would eventually feel... wrong?Although their relationship felt the complete opposite of wrong, wouldthese missing things eventually have grown thorns?I thought he only meant that the human could lose their memories, or that not being able to bond with them would be distressing.

But was it more than that? How long would it be before Aleron could no longer handle the lack of true life, the depth of it, with another person? The more he thought on it, the more it itched at his skin and twisted his stomach.

He was glad Gideon was next to him for this. The tiny gesture of his hand brought him solace and made it easier to swallow his explanation than Weldir’s. Just his presence stopped his skull from lowering in sadness and defeat.

“What I need is for you to ask the Gilded Maiden for a single tear,” Weldir stated, bringing them all back to his request. “I have not been back to Nyl’theria since the Demons were brought to Earth, but I will try my best to transport you to Lezokos, the Elven city.”

Gideon’s brows furrowed tightly and his nose wrinkled on one side. “Wait, so Elvesactuallyexist?”

Weldir ignored him. “Once you are at the gate, their ward will not allow you through. Demons will be unable to harm you, so you are able to linger for however long you need until they allow you entry. I have an inkling that Merikh is there, and I have faith he will aid you.”

“Merikh?” Aleron asked, cocking his head. “Is this where he disappeared to?”

“Yes. A female Elf took him there.”

“You speak of Raewyn.” Joy radiated in his chest at the reminder of his Elven friend. Only for it to die when he realised the difficult task bestowed upon him. He pointed a claw in Weldir’s direction. “Merikh will not aid me. He is hateful.”

Weldir’s lips thickened with wisps of chalkiness, making them more noticeable as they spread. He gave a fanged grin.

“Women are powerful creatures. I’ve watched them enough to know my most bull-headed child can easily be swayed by her.”

A small chuckle escaped Aleron. “It is true he was rather protective and possessive of her.”

He remembered how the bear-skulled Mavka ushered him and his kindred away with dark-green orbs. A detail he’d missed then, that now became enlightening since his own sight had shifted to that colour due to Gideon.

“If you request that they help you greet the Gilded Maiden on my behalf, they are not allowed to interfere. This is a matter of deities, regardless that I am a demi-god. You are my vassal and messenger, and if they still follow the customs of the old ways, they must let you request an audience with her directly. It will be purely her decision as to whether or not she agrees.”

“Why a tear?” Aleron asked curiously.

There was no question of why he should help. He cared deeply for his creator, especially after all he had done for him when he first came to Tenebris.

Without him, Aleron would have been horribly lost. He would have eaten many souls, gained their memories, and let it mingle with his rage and pain until he became a mangled, insane creature.

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