Page 155 of To Trap a Soul

I doubt Nathair will come here,he thought, since it was rather close.He’s already searched this mountain and knows nothing of interest is here.

Weldir doubted he’d climb the cliffs again. But if he were to create a new mountain that wasn’t so close, Nathair would no doubt go in search of it and might stumble upon the private spot he was making.

With a sense of confidence, he pushed forward, and fake stone made way like someone bashing into a metal bowl. It disappeared under his will as he created an extensive tunnel. He was slow about it, needing to imagine in perfect detail each part of the surface from the memory of humans who had been inside mines or natural cave formations.

During this lengthy time, day and night had rotated multiple times for Lindiwe. She often asked if he was there, and he always answered in the affirmative before they shared alight, meaningless conversation. He occasionally paused, letting himself be immersed in the image of her, the sounds of her lovely, contralto voice, and her little emotional tells he was learning to unravel. The bigger her stomach grew, the more her hand would absentmindedly rest against it, and it had become so natural to her that he doubted she knew when she was doing it.

Every pregnancy was different and special in its own way, each having unique ebbs and flows of struggles, nurturing, and adoration.

Even just witnessing them – although he had unfortunately missed a few in slumber – could be rather enthralling. They were his, as much as hers, after all.

He captured a certain scene of her sitting inside the simple hut she’d called home for now – since it was isolated and vacated from humans. He figured she’d discovered it to likely give birth in the near future. Experiencing that moment with her while she lazily peered out at dusk, where she looked at peace, he eventually continued on with his task.

These were simple moments, simple pauses he shared with her, but he committed them to memory.

By the time her stomach was large and rounded, and darkness completely shrouded the tunnel he made, he lit up little orbs of white light.

He hummed a small chuckle as they floated around him, brightening the walls.I doubt Lindiwe has realised yet that I can utilise both dark and light magic.Although he wasn’t overly confident with the latter.

It was also weaker, and not his preference.

He liked his mana to emulate himself. Light was not his companion, and the pitch-black was comforting in its embrace.

It’d been his friend for eons.

When Weldir thought he was deep enough, he stood still and then imagined the walls and ceiling pushing out from aroundhim. He created a large dome-like cavern, one which he could expand later should he choose. He made sure the ground was utterly flat, and only the walls were bulky and misshapen.

Then with his hands behind his back in thought, he slowly skimmed along the edges. His mist whisked around him as his gaze kept flicking to the middle.

He told himself it was because he wanted to inspect the stone and jagged walls to make sure they were suitable and looked natural, whereas in reality, it was nervousness that skittered throughout his cloud.

He had no issue unashamedly watching her. Whether it be while she was awake, asleep, or even bathing, he never felt guilt. Yet... perhaps a little bit of embarrassment tremored through him for what he was about to do.

For a creature who lived endlessly, memories could often become murky. Like crystal-clear water that was sullied with a cup of mud at each new memory, the clarity could often be lost without deeper wading.

After living for almost two human millennia, and at least three lifetimes for an Elf, he... had forgotten much. He remembered in clarity the important things, but much was lost to the weathering of time.

And what he currently longed to remember, he didn’t want to lose in the foreverness.

I don’t think she’d appreciate me doing this.Then again, as he raised his hand out to the centre of the cavern, he thought,It’s not like I am making this anywhere except in the corner of my stomach.

It wasn’ttechnicallyreal. It was as imaginary as if he’d created it in the back of his mind, except he already had the materials here to mould. He was just giving it a visual for his ultimate clarity.

It’s not like she’ll ever know,he added, to assuage any guilt.Or anyone else, for that matter.Only Weldir would ever come here.

A place just for him.

Where the echo of her lingered.

With that thought, and determination in mind, he began to construct a sculpture of Lindiwe. To form her image in stone that was flecked with different browns, ranging from a matte sandy hue all the way to brown glittering topaz. He made the hair on top of her head darker, matching it to her brows and the thatch between her thighs. The last variation was her dark nipples and clit, which were a brownish pink.

The only colour that was added was the pinkness inside the seam of her lips and deeper within her mouth, and the slit between her thighs.

The sculpture was entirely naked, although he could have clothed it had that been his intention.

Perhaps I will make another of her in the future.One he didn’t intend to be salacious.

Instead, this image of her, he repositioned until it was one he wanted to remember perfectly.

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