8. Cin
Cin
Hunger.
It is all I know anymore. It is all I can think about. The horrible, aching, bottomless pit that refuses to rest, that keeps me up with its whispering pleas and gnashing jaws.
But it is not food that it wants. It is Willow.
Rather, it wants the being tied to her soul.
I do not know how I know this fact—only that it is true. Perhaps it’s because The Other is gaining power, letting its memories and thoughts slip into mine. Maybe it always has been, and I’ve only just now started to notice it.
At the end of the day, it does not matter. There is nothing I can do to stop it, nothing I can do to prevent the inevitable end of it all.
One way or another, this world as we know it will end.
I stretch out in the healing baths, trying to focus on the water's pleasant warmth rather than the sensation of thousands of creatures running beneath my skin.
It doesn’t help.
A patter of footsteps draws my attention to the far end of the room. I raise my head from the water and find Willow standing at the edge of the healing pools, staring down at me with a no-nonsense expression.
“Hello, little serafyn,” I say. “You look like you have something you want to say to me.”
For a moment, her eyes flash with surprise, then her mask snaps back in place, and she’s all business. “I do, actually. I have a lot to say.”
I lean back, spreading my arms wide as I float lazily. “Lay it on me.”
She purses her lips, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m sick and tired of everyone leaving me in the dark. I want you to explain everything you know about me and the thing inside me, and I want you to do it now.”
I shake my head, a low laugh blowing past my lips. Brave little human. “You think I know something the others don’t?”
“I know you do. What I don’t know is why you won’t share it.”
I sigh, straightening up as the water sloshes around me. “No one wants to know the truth. Not really.”
“Well, I do. And I know you’re the only one who can explain it to me. You’re the only one who’s like me—the only other being who is connected to those weird red roots.”
I just laugh. “We are not the same, serafyn.”
Her eyes narrow in a glare. “You saying stuff like that just confirms my theory that you know something.”
“Stuff like what?”
“We’ll start with serafyn. You called me that the first time we met, and it’s the same word Spoon keeps saying when I ask it about what’s happening to me.”
My spine snaps straight. “Spoon? Who is Spoon?”
“The name of the voice in my head. Well, it’s technically ‘Pshoone,’ but Pshoone is a bit of an asshole, so I’ve been calling it Spoon.”
I blink slowly. “You’ve been calling it Spoon…”
“Yes.”
“And it just… told you that you’re a serafyn.”
“Yep.”
“What else did it say?”
She shrugs. “That I was going to destroy the world, or something. Oh, and it claims to hate the nickname Spoon, but I don’t believe it for a second. Spoons are awesome. Nobody hates spoons.”
I stare at her for a long moment, then rub a hand over my face, my shoulders slumping. “So you don’t actually need answers from me. Your Spoon has already explained it.”
“No, it hasn’t! All it said was that I’m a serafyn and that I’m going to destroy the world.”
I blink, unmoving. “Yes.”
“That can’t be all!”
I shrug. “You’re missing a few details, but that’s pretty accurate.”
The blood drains from her face. “But I… that can’t be true. And if it is, then we need to do something!” Her voice cracks on the last word, sending a dagger straight through my heart.
“What do you propose?” I ask gently.
“I don’t know!” She throws her hands in the air. “How about trying to stop it from destroying the world? That might be a good place to start.”
I let out a deep breath, shaking my head. “There is no way to stop it.”
“I don’t believe it. There has to be something—”
“No. There is not.” I fix her with a hard look.
“The entity inside you—your Spoon—is a creature more powerful than all of the beings in this world combined. Calling it a god would be insulting.” He spreads his arms wide.
“This world is sick, Willow. You can feel it in the air, and you can see it by the pulsing red light of the Welwig roots. It’s dying.
And if it dies, it will infect the thousands of other worlds that surround this one. ”
She brings a shaking hand to her mouth. “Are you telling me… you’re trying to say there are more worlds like The Far Place?”
“An infinite number,” I say. “They’re more like pockets in the vast chasm of the Abyss. The Welwigs create them as a way to feed.”
“The Welwigs… you mean the trees?”
“The trees…” A low chuckle spills past my lips. “No, they are not trees. They are ancient, sentient, parasitic beings. And they created The Far Place and all of the creatures that reside inside it.” I take a deep breath before continuing.
“Welwigs feed on souls. When the vessel holding the soul dies, the soul travels through the Abyss on its way to the After—a long, confusing web with many opportunities for error. The Welwigs take advantage of this, pulling the traveling souls into their pocket world. There, the Welwigs feast on them to power and grow their worlds. The energy from the soul is harnessed to create demons, icepips, antethorpes, and more Welwigs… the possibility is endless.”
“What does this have to do with me destroying The Far Place, then?”
“This world is sick. Dying. It started when Slaine—the gray king—died along with his forces. It offset the balance of this world. Without Slaine and his horde, the Welwigs could not sustain the size of the world they had created. It became… hungry.”
I close my eyes, recalling the memories living in my head that don’t belong to me.
“In desperation, it tried to resurrect Slaine. Only… it was not successful.” I briefly gesture to the mask covering my face—my horrible, ruined face.
“My brothers and I were born in his place. Unwhole. Wrong. And we refused to do the thing the Welwigs created us to do—we refused to feed on human souls.”
“And it unbalanced it further.” She brings her hand to her mouth.
“It did.” I nod solemnly. “The world started to die. And where there is infection, there is a knife to cut it out.”
Her eyes widen as she slowly begins to understand.
“You are the knife, Willow. You and the entity inside you.”
“So I’m… I’m really supposed to destroy the world… that wasn’t an exaggeration…”
“I’m afraid so,” I say. “The being inside you—the serafyn—was created to restore the balance of the greater universe. If it lets this world continue to fester, the rest of the worlds might die, too.”
“And there’s no way to reverse it? To heal the world?”
I shake my head. “There is no way. Soon, we will all perish. It is fated.”
I lower back into the water and try to relax into the same numbness I'd been chasing before she walked in. Unfortunately, it’s no better than before she arrived.
Minutes pass in silence. I've almost convinced myself she's given up and left when a wave of water hits me square in the face.
I sit up, sputtering, and find her standing at the edge of the pool, arms still dripping from the splash, her jaw set.
“You can’t just say some shit like that and go back to relaxing!”
I run a hand over my face, wiping away some of the water. “What would you rather I do?”
“I don’t know, anything else?”
“There is nothing else.”
She sputters, her face coloring with anger. “Well, I refuse to just sit back and let the world end! There has to be something we can do! What if there’s a way to… make the serafyn go back to sleep? I was alone in my head for twenty-six years. There has to be a way to get back to that.”
“You cannot reverse an awakening.” I enunciate every word carefully.
“Even if you could, once the entity awakens in the vessel, it is already too late.” I blow out a breath.
“If we do nothing, the serafyn will end the world, and we all perish. If we find a way to stop the serafyn, the world will infect the entire universe, causing it to die—which means we all will still perish.”
She purses her lips, her hand landing squarely on her hips. “That’s a bunch of bullshit. There’s a solution. You just haven’t thought of it.”
I let out a chuckle. “I assure you, sweet serafyn, I have thought of everything.”
“Well, you are still a man. Maybe you overlooked something.”
I look at her then, taking in her proud stance and her fiery eyes. She is no mere human—my serafyn is a warrior. Brave, powerful, and willing to do anything to protect those that she loves.
I only wish there was a way for her to do so.
“What are you thinking?” she demands.
“I was thinking about how amazing you are. How beautiful, strong, and wonderful you are. I’m in awe of you, Willow.”
Her breath catches, and whatever she was going to say gets stuck in her throat. “I… what?”
I rise slowly from the water, giving her every chance to look away. Only, she doesn’t.
Water sluices off my shoulders and down my chest, sliding through the deep grooves of my abdomen. My wings unfurl once I’m waist-deep, and the droplets slide off the edges, dripping steadily into the pool. It’s the only sound in the room besides Willow’s labored breath.
The ring around her irises glows bright red as I step onto the stone ledge of the pool, baring every inch to her.
Her gaze dips low, and her mouth pops with shock as she takes in the hard length of my cock.
The velvety, tail-like projections unfurl from the base, pulsing and reaching toward Willow with a mind of their own.
“Holy shit.” She’s unable to move her gaze. “What…?”
My body fills with warmth as I watch her try and fail to look away. I walk toward her, my movements unhurried, leaving a trail of water in my wake.
"Cin…" My name comes out unsteady, but there’s something beneath that nervousness. Desire.
She wants me, too. Just as much as I want her.