Page 45 of A Soul to Guide

Her lips pursed, as though she wished to keep berating him for his theft. Then, she turned her face up and glared in his direction.

“I heard you threaten people in Clawhaven. Do you often bash people’s skulls in?”

“Once or twice, but they usually deserve it.”

“Is that even true?” she whined, her head falling back like she was praying to some god above.

“Sure.” It absolutely wasn’t.

He was sure he’d bashed a handful of people’s heads in simply because they’d irritated him.Hethought they deserved it, but many moments later, he’d reflect on it and then change his mind. He held not an ounce of regret, though, for he couldn’t take back what he’d done, and he often liked to whimsically look back on his actions.

Sometimes, he drew great enjoyment from doing so.

He’d definitely enjoy reflecting back on his short visit to this town. He’d destroyed half their crops in retaliation for not allowing them entry when he sopolitelyasked for it.

He would have left the fire burning, but he had an Elf he needed to protect. The light and smoke of the flames would only draw nearby Demons her way.

Since she’d had a small nap as they’d waited for night to fall, and now had food, he expected they wouldn’t have to stop again for quite some time.

One step closer to freedom,he thought as he handed her the guide rope.

Raewyn winced when yet another sharp rock jabbed into the sole of one of her aching feet. For nearly three days straight, they’d walked. That was three days of random bouts of drizzle with lots of sun. Three days of never stopping, never slowing, even in the night.

She was tired of it. She was over it.

I’ve never walked this much in my entire life.

The bottoms of her feet were tender from stepping on jagged rocks, sharp sticks, and hard dirt. She imagined they were undoubtedly disgusting from all the mud she’d trodden in.

She’d only get a reprieve when the environment became soft, plush grass, and it only made the random sticks more surprising and somehow more painful.

Somewhere along their journey, Merikh had picked up a bit of spirit. Perhaps because he was heading towards the temple, he was inclined to not be unpleasant in any way.

Still, there was an unbreakable wall around him.

She’d managed to learn of five adult brothers he had, all of whom had different skull, horn, and body features. She’d learned that they became partially what they ate, except Demons gave them no new characteristics. Baby Mavka were essentially nothing; they looked like blobby infants with a jagged mouth and nose holes, having no other distinct features in their dark-grey, nearly void flesh.

She’d learned that his mother was a human who had become a Phantom after giving Weldir her soul. She had been gifted the use of power by Weldir and acted as his physical self in this realm.

There was no doubt in her mind the Gilded Maiden would be rather upset about that fact – given that she’d only allowed him the power to control his own realm. He wasn’t supposed to interfere with Earth. He was meant to be nothing but a collector of souls for those who had been damned by the Demons who ate them.

In acquiring a mate, he’d technically violated the deal he’d made with the Gilded Maiden, the one he’d made to escape his imprisonment realm.

He was not supposed to experience joy, life, or even love. Without a true body to possess, they’d all thought he’d be incapable.

Oh, how wrong they were.

Merikh had also told her much about the humans and the way they lived. He’d explained the differences between the north, south, east, and western lands of the Veil.

The southland’s border made this area of the continent safer from smaller Demons, which meant more humans lived here. However, the Demons had discovered this, and it was often the bigger, nastier ones that hunted this area.

Yet, in all her findings, she’d learnt very little about him.

This Duskwalker shared no details about what he was seeking. He’d been travelling the world the moment he’d gained the ability to leave his home permanently. He apparently went back to it every ten years to lay down a protective ward, refusing to allow any creature to take the one thing that belonged to him, but he always left again once he did.

I guess every creature feels comforted knowing they have a place to return to,she mused.

Whenever she asked Merikh what he’d truly been up to over the years, why he had a glamour to enter the human towns, or what compelled him to keep moving, his answer was always vague.

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