Page 21 of To Free a Soul
Rather than the conversation running in circles, she lowered her eyelids in annoyance and hiked her thumb over her shoulder. She’d already spelled out her desire to stay rather clearly, if she were being honest. “You can send me back to Austrális if you don’t want me here.”
“No,” he said immediately. “I would welcome your presence here.”
A grin of triumph parted her lips.That’s what I thought.
Lindiwe didn’t realise she was moving through his realm – or was the realm moving around her? – until the items scattered in the distance came closer. There was no rush of air, no rustle of hair or clothing, as if the nothingness was utterly empty of perceivable movement. Even when she swam through the ether, it felt like brushing through still air.
Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment at just how much she’d amassed.
Dozens of small pouches filled with seeds, dried herbs, interesting bone fragments, and blessed salt created a substantial pile. A neat collection of precious or beautiful crystals glittered, with a large egg-shaped fire opal in the middle. The odd pebbles that she liked the colour or shape of surrounded it in a star shape.
Her journals lined the entire space in a ring, with books placed together in sections, and upon closer inspection, they were separated into their contents. A section for all the things she’d learned at different Anzúli temples, another for the flora and fauna of every land she’d visited over the many years. Another section was of her personal diaries, which lacked any emotions and were just retellings of what she’d done during different periods of her life to help pass the time.
Folded stacks of clothes were put into piles depending on whether they were dresses she wanted to keep or special garments she collected from lands far from Austrális. There were even a few traditional items of clothing from Unerica, Kanata, Zafrikaan, and Eyropea, reflecting how she’d held onto those cultures after immersing herself in them temporarily. Even one of the interesting hats she’d taken from Pyrssia had been placed on top of the pile, along with a pair of clogs from a country close by.
An array of knick-knacks further filled the endless space, creating a vortex that started from what she believed to be the first one she’d left here and ended with the last.
Guilt slipped down her spine at the ball of white feathers – the evidence of the snowy owls she’d hunted for her new cloak – with the corpse of one hugging it. Had it not been so still, she would have thought it was merely resting.
Next to it was a much smaller ball of black feathers.
Every item had the tiniest blob of black, highlighting Weldir’s magic holding onto each one to keep all of it tangible to him.
Lindiwe had never known what he’d done with her things, but she’d assumed they’d just be scattered as a messy congregation of her stuff.
Something warm and pleasant swelled in her heart at seeing this place. It felt like a...shrineto her and her memories. Everything had been placed with artistry and care. Her pulse quickened, and she brought her hands together so she could pick at her nail beds, struck by a tenderness that fluttered in her stomach.
I can’t believe he did all this,she thought, digging her thumbnail into the side of the other, unsure of what to say or how to show her appreciation.
It looked like hecared, but that didn’t particularly align with how he could often come across as emotionless or emotionally false.
I thought he’d changed because he’d been emulating humans.Pretending to be one simply to placate her and make it easier to relate to.Was I wrong?
Why go to all this effort when it had been doubtful, until now, that she’d see it?
She peeked at him, expecting him to gauge her reaction to all this with a suave smirk. Instead, the demi-god had crossed his legs and begun plucking the black feathers from her cloakwithout a care in the world, unaware that she might be feeling strange.
He obviously thought nothing of it.
He was probably just bored,her mind grumbled as she kicked her legs to float closer to her belongings.I’m looking too much into it.
Gingerly pulling a book from the ring of them, she crossed her legs as well, flipped open the cover, and read through the very first journal she’d written of Anzúli spells. She figured starting from the beginning and familiarising herself with them would take up most of the time as she waited.
“Your handwriting has improved over the years,” he commented dully, never lifting his head away from his task.
She peered at the shaky, although carefully recorded words. “Well, I didn’t really know how to read or write when I met you. Most commoners, especially women, didn’t have the time or means.”
It was one of the first things she’d taught herself when she started hunting occultists. She’d needed to learn how to read their letters and notes that she pilfered from their corpses, as they were often leads.
“I know.” He slowly pulled on a feather with a tendril while making sure he didn’t damage the cloth of the actual cloak. “Memories of humans have detailed such things. Humankind has not been kind to its women in many places, and even less to those born of poorer families. I’ve never understood that inequality.”
Lifting her gaze away from the journal entirely, she gave him her full attention. “Is it not like that in Nyl’theria?”
“No. The Elysians protect their weakest. They shelter everyone, and crime is low due to that equality. No one feels the need to fight for resources, or steal them from another, when the basic necessities for life are freely given. A home, comforts, andeven grooming products are provided always, and food, water, and even many baths are often in public spaces to encourage unity and bonds.”
The young Lindiwe would have been horrified to learn of public bathing, but she’d done it many times now in cultures that provided those spaces. It had allowed her to stop feeling so shy and insecure about her body, as it was just what housed her spirit – well, would have, if Weldir hadn’t taken it.
She was still bashful about beingtouched, but her cheeks no longer flushed in embarrassment at her own nudity in public – so long as she was aware of the eyes upon her.
