25. Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“How are you not afraid of me after seeing my true form? The one I am now stuck in.”
“Maybe I was for a while after, but it was an accident. All of it was, and you were saving my life, and I was ungrateful.” I pick the purple flowers and weave them together a few pieces at a time. “I figured out what you are.”
“And what is that?”
“A Leqru. A devourer of gods.”
His hand stops moving over the rock, and he shifts in his spot like he’s suddenly uncomfortable. “Who told you that?”
“I went to the library and learned about Leqru. They sound exactly like you and the collective.”
“I have not heard that term in a very long time, and it’s not a human term. They called us many things, dark destroyers, nightmare raisers, gods, demons, titans, and many other things because they had no idea what might be stronger than their gods.”
I finish the first layer of my crown and start on the second. “What about the magic that weakens you?”
“What book did you say gave you this information?”
“Not a book.”
He turns a slight bit toward the castle. “Hmmm... Humans were always seen as the weakest creatures, and that made them expendable.”
“Yes, ants.”
“Ants. Their minds are so fragile. They fracture by looking at us, and while that wasn’t entirely uncommon among other races, the way it breaks humans is unusual.
The magic bound to this place isn’t entirely understood, but it slowly turns us human with emotions, and even our physical appearance alters. ”
“That must be so difficult to go from the most powerful entity to a pitiful human.”
“The collective thinks so, but they have never experienced what it’s like to love and grieve.
To feel your purpose in existing is found in the person next to you.
We are all together in a mass collective, so there is never separation or loss.
That is only experienced when we must leave for our training and to rule over the realms. Still, the collective continually buzzes at the back of a Leqru’s mind.
Unless they are cut out, but we really don’t have anything, existing for eternity with nothing that matters.
Humans are fragile and ephemeral, but they experience things more valuable than the Leqru do in eons.
Perhaps it is beauty, love, and soul that are the magic that tethers us to this place. ”
I hold up my freshly made flower crown. “It needs something else. Red flowers. Maybe.”
Lazzus lifts his hand toward the grass, and three red blooms, double the size of the purple flowers, push through the ground. “Are those adequate?”
“For a wraith who can’t even open a door, you sure have a lot of power.”
He rumbles a low laugh. “You are stuck on that.”
“Yes, because you kept me imprisoned with that excuse.”
“The curse doesn’t allow me to defy King Zyon. That is why I couldn’t open the door, and as a wraith, my power is greatly diminished, but it is still greater than most mages.”
“You’re stuck with obeying a human, that must be difficult for a god feaster,” I say.
“God feaster. That is a new one. How are things with the king?”
“He keeps bringing me dead presents. It’s why I left now because he made me angry over it.”
His hood tilts like he’s cocking his head. “Dead presents?”
I tell him everything Zyon has done. “I’m not sure I can handle necromancy romance.”
“He’s being a fool again, but I agree with him killing your enemies. He took care of Ruax?”
“Yes, he told me he’s a pile of charred bones.”
“Good.” He says it in a way that sounds genuine, like he might have marched to the castle and taken care of Ruax himself if Zyon hadn’t.
I let his involvement with Ivelle becoming a cat go because I need him to keep talking to me.
I start on a second crown, and every time I pluck a flower, a new one grows in its place.
“Do you...” I can’t bring myself to finish my inquiry until I take a deep breath.
“Do you know if the king has anyone? Since his memories are gone, and I’m assuming you know. ”
“Has anyone? Like family?”
“No. Yes, sort of. Someone he’s romantically involved with.” I shift my eyes to the right as I try to make myself seem like this is only small talk.
“Mmm...” He makes the sound with humor in his voice. “You’re falling for him.”
“Why would you say that? Can’t someone just be interested in another person’s personal life?”
“It’s the way you say it that makes believe you have feelings for him.”
“Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“No, he’s too much of a hermit to have anyone. That’s all I can say about it,” he says.
“Could you please tell me the rest of the story? I’ve been going crazy the last few weeks wondering what happened with you and Evelia. My anger cooled, and I realized not only was I harsh with you, but I ruined something for myself.”
“Your anger is warranted, and are you sure? I worried you’d not be able to recover from the trauma.”
I adjust the red flowers so they’re firmly in place and smile at the pop of color among the tiny purple before I place it on my head.
“I struggled at first. It disturbed my sleep as I tried to understand how finite I am. I’ve decided that while nothing may matter in the end, it is the meaning we give things that make them matter.
Something as simple as a flower can be a prized treasure if it’s given by your love. ”
“Words are just ink on a page until they are penned by the one who stops your heart. The one who can end your desire to exist when you lose them.” He seems to go distant for a while as he appears to stare at the tallest mountain peak.
“That is a good way to look at it, and it is true. We choose our purpose and meaning in everything. A small trinket can be a treasure, and gold is like ashes when there is nothing to spend it on. At the same time, many things have value when no one assigns them meaning.”
“True. An unloved child.”
“A stray dog. That is perhaps the most precious thing humans have taught me. Life has value, even if we disregard it.”
“Both sides are true at the same time."
“Yes.” He sits up straight and turns in my direction. “The crown suits you.”
“Thank you. Tell me about the one who gave you meaning.”
His shoulders rise and fall, as if he’s taking a deep breath to get out his next words through a deep heaviness that has settled into his bones.
“Evelia was the only thing in this world and all the worlds that meant anything to me. Even after centuries, that is true. You really want to continue the story? It is not easy toward the end.”
“Yes, I want to know how it ends. Even the tragedy of it, but if it’s too much for you, I will remain curious.”
“No, I will tell you.” He waves his hand, and we return to his castle in the far distant past.