Page 81 of To Trap a Soul

Understandable.Lindi had learned to... slow down.

There was no need to rush, not when there was so much time for her to expend. It’d taken many years, well over two decades in fact, to alter something that was fundamentally set in her very spirit. To not feel the flow of time, as she was outside of it.

I struggled for so long to accept that concept.She still did, in some ways.

It made being at Nathair’s side, with little to do, far more bearable. Sometimes she just stared at him, enchanted by his odd beauty and how she was part of his design. Now with Orson, who bore their own skull and quill features, she sometimes emptied her mind to just let herself witness their moments together.

A witness.Just like Weldir.

Something that didn’t need to interact with the world, even if she sometimes longed to immerse herself in their play – but was always coldly rejected.

I guess it’s different, though.She was able to experience everything that Weldir could not. The grass, the sun, life.I don’t think I would be able to live as he does.To be outside of a world, to see it but not grasp it.

It sounded too painful for someone who had always been able to touch the delicate petals of a flower, take in its floral scent, and do more than just watch it wilt from a distance. There was loneliness in being able to merely pluck it from its bush and take it with her as a reminder.

“How long has it been?”Weldir pressed, and the note of mild curiosity was evident.

“Almost a year,” Lindi admitted.

It’d been eleven months since Orson was given their name, their skull, and not much else had changed. They’d consumed a few Demons with Nathair, both gaining a little more mass each, but that was all.

Last summer, Lindi had followed Nathair as he wandered. He’d fought against that bear, and then all manner of other creatures that strayed into his nearby path. He had no direction, from what she could tell, but just seemed to have an instinct to move with the heat on his back. As autumn came, and the world grew chilly, he’d returned a slow path back to the Veil. Once the winter frost had settled above the surface, although not so much on the ground of the canyon, he’d been reluctant to leave the lake.

I think he finds the water more agreeable in the cold.

Perhaps he was able to handle it better when he breathed through his gills, as if a physiological change happened. He only left to sunbake for a few hours of the day and then returned to the water like a hibernating animal.

Lindi had remained, only because there was no point in her leaving. Winter was cruel and was growing colder as each year passed. The Veil appeared to be warmer, so hunkering down where she had somewhere safe and protected seemed like the wisest choice.

Then, like the budding flowers of spring, Nathair had emerged. His lessons had resumed, his playfulness with Orson continued, and he’d carved out this cave. Lindi had attempted to help with a sharp rock, trying to show him she just wished to be helpful.

When he’d allowed it, she’d grown more audacious with her closeness to him, while a triumphant grin had curled her lips. He’d been benign and welcoming to her, in his own strange and quiet way, and she’d pushed the boundaries as much as she could with the aim to eventually win him over.

But, like always, no matter that little had changed – and Lindi not at all – summer had returned to bake the world. She always found it the hardest time to have a clinging child – especially one that was so large now they were the size of her torso. They were heavy, they were unbearably hot, but at least they could hold up their skull now, which gave her tired arms a break.

Lindi lifted her gaze to the calming sky to greet the stars that were beginning to wink through wisps of clouds as the rain subsided. A thin, barely noticeable barrier at the cave entrance kept the horrible mosquitos at bay while she enjoyed her evening of nothing but her thoughts and Orson.

At least, that had been her intention. Weldir’s voice continued to ring, even after his silence.

She was alone, without anyone truly sentient to speak to even after a year, but she didn’t feel as lonely as before. Lindi had come to accept this forced solitude, basking in its carefree nature. She did have her two children, no matter that they were so different to her and not even human.

How lonely it must be to rule a realm filled with only the dead.

The least she could do was offer a branch of ‘friendship.’

“Weldir,” Lindi started, before licking at her lips nervously.

“Yes, Lindiwe.”

“What have you been doing all this time?”

“I have been... creating,”he answered slowly, like one might do when they were looking over a hobby they’d been working on and had been interrupted mid-task.

A star seemed a little brighter, a little redder than the others. She inspected it as she crossed her legs to settle Orson into her lap, then stroked their back quills gently. “Creating what?”

“My realm.”

Her upper lip curled up to one side, disliking that he was being vague as usual, and she rolled her eyes. Before she could tell him “never mind,” Weldir surprisingly continued.

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