Chapter 6
Lyall
Iemerged from the portal back into the Mortal Realm just as the sun was beginning to set on the horizon.
Although knowing this endeavor to be pointless, I made a swift detour by the graveyard to pick up the Autumn Peony flowers my mother requested.
By rights, I shouldn’t set foot back into that wretched place so close to nightfall.
But like with the Haunted Woods of Wolfmoon Mountains, I didn’t fear whatever creatures lurked here.
They feared me.
My mystifying abilities—which people often confused for mind control—made me essentially all-powerful against pretty much any enemy.
Only certain other demigods could block my illusion abilities.
And obviously, the Gods and Ancients like my mother would chew me up and spit me out without breaking a sweat.
The only thing that actually presented a potential threat to me was the growing steam and clockwork powered technology the humans had been developing over the past decade.
You couldn’t control something that wasn’t sentient.
Sure enough, as soon as I landed near the crematorium, all kinds of ghouls and abominations started creeping out of their lairs, looking for some foolish prey to terrorize or feed off of.
Despite their nearly mindless states, they wisely opted to steer clear of me.
Not only was I not in the mood to play with inferior beings, I also didn’t stand to gain anything from their deaths.
Anyway, I didn’t feed on decaying or cursed flesh.
That task accomplished, I took flight in my Gharlakan form, the flowers safely tucked into my right hand.
Normally, it would have taken me a little less than thirty minutes to fly to my mother’s domain.
However, I made a large detour around the nearby forests and swamps in search of the glowing plants I had seen multiple times in the Onis’ memories as I ate their hearts.
It still annoyed me to no end that they had so little knowledge about what Elliot was up to.
Moreover, I no longer believed him to be the mastermind behind whatever was truly happening here.
Eleni was not a random thirteenth bride.
Both demons had clearly been instructed to specifically secure her above any other.
They didn’t know why, nor did they question whoever gave them that order.
They were merely agents from an underworld organization that could be hired by powerful arcanists for specific missions.
Trying to get to the root of it all would be nearly impossible.
Even had they still been alive, their order was so successful because they kept their agents on an extremely strict information diet to make sure their clients would never be exposed should things go haywire like they did in this instance.
My only hope was to locate that area near a swamp with unusual flowers. From their memories, it contained a portal to the location they were to take all of Elliot’s brides, including Eleni.
An indescribable emotion attempted to rear its head at the mere thought of the Inquisitor. I clamped down on it, refusing to explore what she stirred in me until I had a better sense of the situation. My mother owed me quite a few answers.
Frustrated after more than an hour of flying around without finding the slightest hint of the glowing flowers from the vision, I turned towards my mother’s house and flapped my wings as hard as I could, zipping through the sky at outstanding speeds.
To my pleasant surprise, the guardian imps barely acknowledged me with their eyes slightly taking on a luminous yellow hue before it faded back to the grayish stone color.
They didn’t even bother stirring or looking up in my direction.
The gates also didn’t actually open, their lack of interference indicating that I could proceed.
After all, I wasn’t walking or riding through the gates.
So opening them for me would have been pointless.
I landed shortly thereafter in front of my mother’s mansion. The door already stood wide open like a gaping maw eager to swallow me whole. I stepped inside with determined steps as I shifted back into my natural form.
Finding my mother behind her table instead of at her spinning wheel took me aback.
Growing up, and in all the years thereafter, I could hardly recall her not working on some new thread.
Whenever she wasn’t taking care of me or other tasks, she would always spin.
I often wondered if she ever actually slept.
“What a dutiful son!” she exclaimed in a taunting fashion as she watched me approach.
I snorted and placed the bouquet in the hand she was extending towards me. She grabbed it and brought the flowers to her nose before scrunching her face. Turning the bouquet this way and that, she examined the flowers with an unimpressed look.
“Hmm. It seems like you were right. My own peonies are much better than these,” she mused aloud.
“No shit,” I replied in a self-evident manner as I settled down in the chair that had once more glided from its usual position by the door to the front of my mother’s worktable. “But it was never about the flowers, was it?”
Eyes widened in the most dishonest air of innocence, my mother stared at me with fake confusion.
“Whatever makes you think such a thing?”
“Spare me,” I huffed. “The human performing some sort of sex ritual over there spoke of Ranael. Did you send me there to help me find a way to free my brother?”
“No,” she replied, her face immediately closing off.
“What?! Why the hell not?”
“Elliot knows nothing. Didn’t he say as much?” she countered.
“Yeah. He said someone procured him the blood,” I reluctantly conceded.
“Correct. He got it from a broker,” she concurred.
“Which broker?” I demanded.
“That’s not your problem,” she said in a cold voice.
“Like hell it’s not my problem!” I snapped.
“Calm down, Lyall,” my mother warned in a frosty tone, the vertical slits of her pupils narrowing further.
Although I knew she would never harm me, I barely fought the urge to squirm under the severity of her stare. Any wise mortal would have already run for the hills.
I made a face as if I’d bitten into something foul but held my tongue. While her expression relaxed, her tone remained chastising.
“I’ve already told you that Ranael’s turn will come in due time.”
“Then why did you send me there?” I demanded, annoyed by how much I sounded like a petulant child.
“Why do you think?” she challenged as if I had asked a stupid question.
“Was it for her? Is she mine?”
To my dismay, the eagerness in my voice betrayed what I hoped her answer would be. More disturbing still was how tense my back felt as I awaited her response.
“Do you want her to be?” Mother asked, annoying me further.
She loved answering questions with questions, which was beyond infuriating.
At the same time, Mother never said anything without a reason.
More than us demigods, she fell under a ridiculous number of rules from the Covenant, most of which didn’t apply to me.
Answering with questions was a good work around to toe the line without actually crossing it.
With questions, she could lead her interlocutor to come up with the answer ‘on their own.’
“Who wouldn’t?” I replied, this time echoing her self-evident tone.
She chuckled and gave me an amused look. “Many people wouldn’t. She’s bold, fierce, and ruthless when needed. Men fear strong women.”
“I’m not a man,” I deadpanned dismissively.
Her smile broadened, and her face took on that maternal expression that always messed with my head, and that I wished I could see more often.
“If you like her then woo her,” she said softly.
“But is she mine?” I insisted.
She immediately rolled her eyes then glared at me as if she wanted to smack the stupid out of me.
“Why do you always ask questions you know I can’t answer?” Mother asked, aggravated.
I emitted a frustrated growl and shook my head, defeated.
She frowned and gave me a confused look. “Why are you so troubled?”
I heaved a sigh, and my shoulders slouched. “Eleni is nothing like Amara. So why do I like her? Why do I react so strongly to her presence? Am I so fickle that, less than twenty-four hours ago, I should have been still pining for the woman I couldn’t have, and now I’m obsessed with this one?”
She shook her head as if I was a hopeless case. “You silly boy… Over the last couple of centuries, you have drunk the blood of many females. In all this time, only two women moved you this strongly. That hardly makes you fickle.”
“But the first one wasn’t mine, and yet I couldn’t stop wanting to claim her!” I argued vehemently.
“That’s not surprising. Amara has angelic blood. Only a monster could have gotten to know her as intimately as you did by drinking her blood and not falling for her. Her divine light called to yours.”
“Angelic blood?!” I exclaimed, flabbergasted.
My mother nodded. “It goes back quite a ways in her ancestry. Her family doesn’t even know about it anymore.
But it shines brightly in her. Everyone loves Amara.
Frankly, I would have been distraught had you not been moved by her.
You know this woman better than anyone, even herself.
Stop overthinking, my son. Just live. Follow your heart. ”
“I don’t think I’m ready to be heartbroken again,” I mumbled, feeling pathetic.
“Nothing in life is ever guaranteed.”
She waved at the wall behind the spinning wheel.
I couldn’t see anything on it, but I could feel the powerful magic swirling around that area, indicating that something potent was taking place there.
Very few people could see the complex network of threads marking the fate of countless individuals without her making it visible.
But Grim Reapers and Angels of Death like my brother Pharos could see it all.