Epilogue Pt. 3 #2
I still had questions about whether that was a good thing or not, but Melek assured me that it was.
“Uncle Hever!” We all watched as Naran darted out of the trees and ran to Hever’s side, grasping his grayish hand deep in his bell-shaped sleeve and pulling him towards the trees. “Papa and Pappy are here, and the others don’t believe me about the magic! You have to show them!”
I’d always been half-shocked and half-delighted by Hever’s apparent inability to keep himself aloof from the children.
Istral claimed he grew up alone, and now he likes to play as he never had the chance when he was a child, but Melek was the one who mused that perhaps he wished he’d been able to have his own.
“I love that man for all he’s done, but dear Lord he gives me the creeps,” Harris whispered under her breath.
I’d always been surprised by her response to Hever, since she was so embracing and understanding of everyone else.
As Naran dragged him towards the trees, and Hever pretended to protest, I smiled grimly.
To my knowledge, Hever had never revealed his true face to anyone else.
Initially, I’d forgotten in the stress of all that happened that he’d shown it to me.
But later, since no one asked, it just hadn’t seemed right to tell others. It seemed it must be his choice.
I asked him about it once. He claimed he’d developed the facade as he grew into adulthood.
It was an illusion he maintained using some Neph twisting of our Shadekin mind-gifts—he could make everyone else see it so that he appeared more Nephilim, and distract those who might question his lineage, but that it had now become a habit—and the way he was known.
It had become second nature to him to maintain it.
He’d added, “It’s also an excellent test to identify those who judge by appearance.”
Then he’d winked at me!
Another shriek rose from the trees, and I was yanked back to the present, where Harris was still squirming with discomfort at Hever’s appearance.
“The children don’t seem to mind,” I offered.
“That’s because they know his heart is good, no matter how he looks,” Istral said with her simple honesty.
I nodded thoughtfully, and watched him disappear into the trees, where my mate and hers, and our children played.
I suddenly found myself very, very grateful that she was right.
~ MELEK ~
“Papa, look! Uncle Hever is here!”
It was instinct to turn at the sound of that voice saying Papa, but once again, I was left scratching the back of my neck, as Gall turned to beam at his son, Naran, pulling an ever-patient Hever behind him by his sleeve.
I still chuckled to myself every time Hever shed his enigma because the children refused to be afraid of him.
However it was Gall, hurrying forward to manage his son, that filled me with pride.
“No, no, Naran. That’s rude. You have to be polite and ask.”
Naran stopped in his tracks, his little, gold eyes going wide. He looked up at Hever fearfully, then back to his father. “But… I did, only…”
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Gall reassured him, crouching down so they were the same level.
Naran was already several inches taller than Mael—a fact I tried hard not to worry about—so when Gall crouched, he could be eye-to-eye with his son.
It was a picture I never tired of seeing.
“You’re excited. And that’s good!” Gall encouraged.
My heart squeezed knowing how many times Gall had been derided for his unbridled enthusiasm when he was young.
“But when you want to show someone something, you have to ask them if they’ll follow you, not just drag them along.
You’re a big boy, Naran. If you don’t ask, you might hurt someone without meaning to. ”
Naran’s eyes got very wide then and he turned to look up at Hever. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Uncle Hever.”
Hever’s face was far too straight to not be fighting laughter. “It’s okay, Naran. I wanted to come with you,” he said solemnly.
Naran nodded. “Thank you.” Then he frowned at Hever’s hand, leaned forward and kissed it softly, then gave it back to the Neph with a small sigh. “Can you show them the magic now? Because they don’t believe me.”
Hever was blinking rapidly—was he about to cry?—and he cleared his throat. “I, uh, yes. Yes, I can do that.”
Naran’s face lit up and raised a fist in triumph. “Yes! Mael! Adi! You have to come—I told you he can do it! It doesn’t matter if you’re Neph, you can do the magic walking!”
There was a very peculiar joy for the next few minutes, as Hever tried to pretend he wasn’t having a ball, impressing the children with his ability to shadow walk—while Gall and I watched on.
I caught myself grinning like an idiot when Hever appeared behind Mael and whispered, “Boo,” and startled my younger son so badly, Mael shrieked like a girl—then chased Adiya around the tree when she laughed and pointed.
I should have broken them up—those two seemed to know exactly the ways to push each other’s buttons—but I found it all just too sweet and funny. Yilan wasn’t there to insist that the boys behave like the little lords they were, so I let it go and smiled wider.
Until I looked sideways at Gall to share a grin, and found his forehead lined, and eyes worried.
“What is it?” I asked him quietly, beneath the curtain of shrieks and laughter.
“Hever’s here to tell us about the tests he did this morning,” he said in a voice filled with dread.
My heart sank. I’d told Gall that he didn’t need to have Naran tested—that the boy was sharp as a tack, and entirely normal in his development.
Actually, ahead of his peers in the physical—but sometimes once Gall got an idea in his head he struggled to let it go, and he was very worried that his son might struggle as he had.
I put a hand to his shoulder and squeezed.
“No matter what Hever says, it’s nothing to worry about.
Naran is very gifted, Gall. You know that.
We’ll find what he’s good at, and he’ll be allowed to do that—just as we will with the other children.
He won’t be forced to be something he doesn’t enjoy, or isn’t equipped to do. I promise.”
Gall’s eyes slid sideways to meet mine, and for a moment a chill entered my blood.
My son was still a beautiful, compassionate, and loving man. But his time with Lucifer had changed him. Gall had always been aware of the darkness of the world—growing up in Nephilim society it was impossible to ignore—but now he was aware of the darkness in himself.
Before I could find a way to reassure him about that, Hever extricated himself from the children with very serious and adult assurances that he was required for a meeting with their fathers. The children all sighed, but let him go.
His face light, Hever carefully made his way to stand on my other side and casually stood to watch the children with us.
I waited, silently urging one of them to speak, when Gall stiffened beside me, took a deep breath, and turned to lean past me to look at Hever. “Tell me.”
Hever, whose hood was still loose around his shoulders, turned his head, brows up, as if he were surprised at the dread in Gall’s tone.
“Everything is good, Gall,” he said gently.
“Your son’s development is normal—that is to say, above average, which we would expect from a Shadekin-Nephilim union.
Especially with royal bloodlines.” Hever smiled and lowered his head for a moment in deference to Gall, which warmed my heart in ways I hadn’t known I needed to see.
Gall blinked and swallowed, his forehead still lined with worry. “He’s normal?”
“For a Shadekin-Neph child. He’ll probably be a great deal smarter than a child of either breed.”
“How? Are you just telling me that to make me feel better?”
Hever frowned. “I wouldn’t disrespect you that way, Gall.
” He looked back at the children as he continued.
“None of us knows how the Creator makes us. But I can tell you that your boy is quick as a whip, extremely aware of the feelings of others, and remarkably fast to learn. He finds more affinity with kinesthetic tasks—that is, moving and touching. It takes him longer to learn if he’s simply told information—if you want to teach him, show him how to do something, then let him try it.
He’ll get there more quickly. All in all…
he’s a very intelligent and thoughtful boy, and he is going to make a great leader one day, I suspect.
Because he cares…” then Hever’s gaze shifted so he looked at my son from the corner of his eye. “Like his father.”
Apparently missing the compliment, Gall’s face fell. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck. Then he looked at me as he licked his lips nervously. “Are you sure?” he murmured a moment later to Hever.
“I’m certain.
I beamed. “Gall… that’s really good news.”
“It is,” Hever agreed. “Though I had no doubt about Naran’s capability even before we tested him. You’ll need to be careful to remain strong, Gall—that boy is going to put you through your paces before he becomes a man.”
Gall turned back to the kids, his eyes following his son’s track between the two trees, where he pretended to be checking the horses they would use to ride through the Shadows of Shade and into the next kingdom, the boundary of which was drawn by the large hedgerow.
Gall’s lower jaw was slack, his eyes wide and shining as he stared at his son. My heart brimmed, and I found myself swallowing rather hard.
Hever eyed us both, then clapped me on the shoulder. “Sire, I need to get back for… tasks,” he said with a knowing look at me.
“Thank you, Hever—for everything.”
“Certainly.”
Then he turned, and disappeared into the shadows in that skin-crawling way they all had. I had to pray that he had truly gone because I wouldn’t know if he was standing at my back.
I turned my attention to Gall and watched him watching his son.
Then for one, quiet moment, I found myself utterly content.