Chapter 144: 3-26 Reconcilation

Lyra sat on a log and gazed out into the distance as she slowly munched away on her bread. The sight was hindered by the trees and the horizon could not be seen. Lyra tried to find a position with a far enough view but her efforts ended in futility when she finished her breakfast. She sighed and returned to the camp which was only a stone's throw away from where she had her meal. Upon returning to the camp, she found Erin and Siv waiting for her by the fire.

“Good morning, Lyra,” Erin greeted.

Lyra only took a glance at Erin before turning away. She sat down opposite the two and began making arrows out of sticks she had collected the prior night.

“I’ll go scout the area,” Siv muttered to Erin. “Please reconcile when I get back.” She tipped her head to Erin and promptly left the two alone together with the campfire as their company to the coldness between them

“Lyra… I’m sorry for keeping it from you.”

“Glad to know that you’re sorry but if an apology is enough, then misery wouldn’t have existed,” Lyra retorted coldly.

“Then… how can I make you forgive me?”

Lyra cocked her head to Erin with a face of disbelief. “You can start by trying to sound like you’re actually sorry instead of trying to fake it.”

“Do I truly sound that way to you?”

“You dare tell me that you aren’t aware of it yourself?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m completely unaware… It’s just...”

“Just what?” Lyra challenged. “Don’t you dare tell me it’s nothing.”

“It’s just… I never had this kind of conversation. I was basically celibate when I was Argon Raze.”

“You mean when you were a man,” Lyra corrected her and shifted her glance back to carving her arrow.

“I led a solitary life, Lyra. I don’t know about these things. I don’t know how you would take the news. I was afraid you would leave me...”

“What makes you think I would leave you if I knew?” Lyra asked, without raising her glance.

“My insecurity...”

Lyra raised her head. “You? Insecure? You were the Sword Saint. How can you be insecure?”

“The sword was all I knew. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel or expect. The worst outcome was all I could think of. I have tasted the delicacy of having love in my life. I don’t want to return to the time when I don’t know what that feels like. I love you too much, Lyra.”

Lyra grimaced. She stopped carving and threw the arrow to the ground. “What about how I feel? Do my feelings not matter? After everything we have been through, do you trust me that little?”

“I do trust you. Which was why I decided to tell you everything, despite knowing how upset you would be. I know I should have told you all of these long ago.”

“Your words sounded regretful but not your voice, Erin. Are you aware of that?”

“That’s because… I trust you, Lyra. And I know... even if you’re upset with me… you would never leave me.”

Lyra scowled. “You are unbelievable.”

“I share your sentiment. I find it hard to understand too. I am not afraid now.” Erin moved close to Lyra, who tried to back away but Erin pulled her back by her wrist. “I am not letting you go until you forgive me.”

“Fuck you,” Lyra spat and smacked her palm into Erin’s cheek, who received the slap without any resistance.

“That hurts… you have truly gotten stronger,” Erin said with a smile.

“You’re enjoying this...”

“I am,” Erin admitted. “Bickering of a couple is something that I had only watched from the sides before. Envy always found me when I witnessed such sights. Now that I am a part of it… it just feels me with joy. We bickered because we still love each other. If you had fallen out of love with me, you wouldn’t have stayed.”

“Fucking unbelievable, you are,” Lyra said as she shook her head. “You expect me to believe I’m your first despite having such a tongue.”

Erin pulled Lyra closer with her smile turning into a grin. “You made me this way. I will have you take responsibility.”

Lyra’s face twisted with indignance at Erin’s words but she eventually released her scowl and laughed. “You’re right… Though I still hate it that you hid so much from me but I still love you.”

“Lyra...”

“But this doesn’t mean I forgave you,” Lyra said.

“Then I won’t let go of you,” Erin retorted, tightening her grip around Lyra.

“Fine by me,” Lyra replied.

And they both shared a chuckle.

“Now, be truthful with me,” Lyra said. “What else are you hiding from me?”

“...You are not my first infatuation.”

Lyra wrapped her hand around Erin’s and gave it a playful squeeze while retaining a smile. “Is it now?”

Erin nodded with a cramped smile, pulling her hand off Lyra’s grip and returned by placing her hand on top of Lyra’s. “I had many infatuations in the past when I was Argon Raze but I never had the guts to act on these infatuations.”

Lyra let out a giggle. “I am glad. Things might have been different if you had acted on these infatuations.”

“You’re jealous that you might no longer be my first?”

“No,” she denied, shaking her head. “I’m afraid we wouldn’t have met.”

“I think we would have regardless. I would have still challenged that man and gotten outmatched. We would still meet and we would still fall in love.” Erin brought her hands to cup Lyra’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Lyra.”

“I won’t forgive you this easily. You have to try harder.”

“Oh, woe is me.”

They brought their faces close to each other. Their lips slowly pulled towards one another as if they were meant to join together. But as their lips came close to touching—

“Have you forgotten about the note already?” Siv asked as she intruded on the two’s moment.

Erin sighed. “Can’t you have waited?” she asked.

“Velkan won’t wait.”

“Wait, Velkan?” Lyra questioned. “You mean Velkan Corvas? What about him?”

“He has escaped from prison and he is coming to us.”

“But why?”

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“At a guess, he believes I am responsible for his sister’s death.”

“But you weren’t responsible for it. They would have been drafted regardless of your idea.”

“Velkan is most likely not in any sound mind to make sound decisions or have sound thoughts,” Siv said.

“You sound so sure,” Lyra said.

“Because I have also lost my brother. I know how he feels.”

Being reminded of that, Lyra uttered an apology and remained quiet.

“Unless he has means to travel without rest, it would take two days at the very least to catch up on us.”

“He is an Abyssal, mistress. I would put it past him performing such a miracle.”

“Abyssal?” Erin questioned.

“Jargon for practitioners of Abyss Magic.”

“It’s that versatile?”

“Scholars believe Abyss Magic to be the closest source of power to Demons that mortals like us could wield.”

“Is that what was written?”

“It’s just their words of mouth.”

“Then we shouldn’t be so worried. Our minds need rest too. Plaguing our minds with these needless worries will put our well being at risk. We must remain vigilant constantly but take great care not to let it mould into anxiety.”

“Of course, mistress.”

“Wait,” Lyra uttered. “I thought Necromancy had the closest familiarity with Demons.”

“That is a misconception. Necromancy is considered dark magic but in truth, it is actually a part of nature magic. Death is part of nature, it only stands to reason, Necromancy, Death Magic is part of nature magic. It is the practitioners that gave Necromancy a terrible reputation. Then again, dark magic is merely a subjective view concocted by mortals like us. Every magic that seems dark of nature is labelled as dark magic.”

Lyra stared. “I don’t think I have ever met a Beast-kin as learned as you, Siv.”

“I had always been a tad different than my fellow kin. My kind thirsts look up to the strong but I also look up to the wise. Though I had been afraid, leaving my homeland was the one an event I regard as a change for the better in my life.”

“Why are you telling us this now?” Erin asked, raising her brows in concern.

“Because I love you, mistress.” Siv turned to Lyra. “And you too, Lyra. I consider you a friend.”

“So do I,” Lyra replied.

“I want to be truthful to the ones I care about.”

“And I’m grateful for that, Siv,” Erin said.

“There is one more secret that I think you two deserve to know.”

Erin and Lyra showed a solemn expression that was tinged in slight worry.

“We had a proper name for my kind but it is known only to a few, my fellow kin and those who deemed worthy of our trust. Rakar, that’s the name of my kind. It means beast in the feral sense.”

“Why hide it?” Lyra asked.

Siv looked at her. “Because it stems from a history that we are not proud of. We were once a feral and warring race. We even fought among ourselves. The constant fighting dwindled our number to the point that the only way to ensure the continuation of my kind is to seek peace with the other races. Rakar was a name given by our former enemies and before we sought peace, we took the name in stride. Now that we changed, the name became a stigma.”

“To prevent the prejudice of our kind to rise to the extremes, we took to calling ourselves Beast-kin in an attempt to be more… amicable to the other races. Though many have forgotten what my ancestors did, the hatred is ingrained into them.”

Erin held Siv’s hand. “You are among friends now, Siv.”

“I know. The two of you are the first ones that I have shared so much about myself with.”

Lyra hesitated for a while but receiving Erin’s encouraging gaze, she pulled Siv into an embrace. “Thank you for sharing, Siv.”

Siv was taken aback but quickly reciprocated her hug.

Erin was watching over the two warmly. A tear rolled down her cheeks. A wry smile spread across her lips— but it faded as her eyes darted to the corner of her sight, trailing the rustling of the branches and leaves of the dense vegetation.

“I’ll bite. Let’s see how long it would take before you ran out of patience,” Erin mused silently to herself as she grinned with a hint of challenge at their stalker.

****

There was a small house amidst a village ridden with corpses. Inside the house, there was a man lying dead on the floor. His head was flattened until every bit and matter inside the head was squeezed out. The symbol of his gender was crushed until no trace of the former shape could even be surmised. The unhinged door of the house dangled weakly with creaks every once in a while as the wind blew past.

Suddenly, the wind blew hard and the door flew off its hinges. A well-dressed man with grey feathered wings flew into the house. His arrival was sudden and harsh but his feet found their bearings as if he had landed gently. The man shook his shoulders and his wings faded off into nothingness. The man took out a jacket with a wave of his hand and donned it over his waistcoat. He walked deeper into the house and came across the dead man with a splattered head and crushed crotch. From his pocket, the man produced a black crystal shard.

“You’re an infuriating man but...” the man mulled. “Your work is not done and your debt has yet to be paid.” The man stabbed the black shard into the dead man’s chest. He pushed the shard until it was completely lodged inside the corpse’s body. The winged man stepped back from the corpse and took a seat across it. He waited with a bland gaze. Tapping his feet, he glanced around the house to pass the time but found nothing that could sate his boredom. After some time passed, the corpse began to tremble violently as if lightning was coursing through it. As the corpse trembled, blackness spread from its chest where the shard was lodged. The blackness covered its crushed crotch and shape began taking form and the blood slowly seeped back into the body. The splattered head bulged as if air was pumped into it. The blood also flowed back into the head. While all these were happening, the blackness was engulfing the body entirely and the winged-man was still tapping his feet impatiently. He was even drumming fingers as he watched.

When the blackness had completely engulfed the corpse and shed itself off, the man stood up from his chair and walked over to the now mended corpse. Grabbing it by the neck, the man raised it off its feet and slammed it into the wall, shaking the whole house.

The corpse opened its eyes with a long and deep gasp. The now alive corpse flailed and struggled in the winged man’s grasp but to no avail. The winged man lost his impatience and brandished his wings, instantly placating the resurrected man’s futile struggle. He stared with widened eyes at the wings as his lips shivered, struggling to find his words.

“Come to your senses already, Rayor,” the winged man said. “You’re not allowed to die unless Marduk says so.”

“Varus...” Rayor muttered. “How am I alive?”

Varus tapped his chest. “You have been granted a second chance. This grace would not happen again. Understand?”

Rayor nodded.

“Now, regarding your daughter,” Varus digressed and released Rayor from his chokehold. “Marduk has taken an interest in her. Find her but don’t kill her. If you have to hurt her, make sure she is not too badly damaged.”

“Why does he want her?” Rayor asked, eyeing Varus dubiously.

“Not your concern, Rayor.”

“She’s my daughter, Varus. It is within my very right to be concerned and to know Marduk’s reasons.”

Varus merely laughed in response. “You’re despicable, Rayor. After everything you have done to her, you could still say such a thing with that kind of face. Looks like you won’t have any trouble in becoming accustomed to your new strength,” Varus said and left the house, throwing the house into further disarray as he took flight.

“Fucking dog!” Rayor cursed. “Wait till I truly get accustomed to this power of mine,” he vowed as he turned his hand into claws without much effort.

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