Chapter 93 - Days Before the War (4)

Inside my tent, I reflected on the fight with Eden a little bit in the middle of the night, while Efari sat on a chair, silently watching my face.

I wondered what would have happened if the Flames of Interitum, the dark flames my other self had used, contested with Eden's flames. Would the dark flames simply devour her flames and with it, her whole existence?

But I could not bring myself to use these black flames out of logic and uneasiness. I felt—no, knew—that if I used these dark flames, it would increase the influence my other self had on me.

The magic behind the Flames of Interitum was intriguing, however.

When my memories had been connected somewhat with my other self, I had learned and sensed how he had formed those flames. To form it, I would need to tear apart the threads of magic before its formation and mixed it with the dark pool of magic that was inside me.

To better understand what had happened to me after my other self had taken over, imagine an underground cavern and residing in this cavern, an enormous clear pool of magic. A very small part of this pool of magic had now turned black. It was a slimy and cold darkness that wanted to devour everything in existence.

I could only shiver a little, knowing such a thing was mixed inside my magic reserves. Just what was my other self? Could it be my black dragon soul? Then what was I? The soul of a human?

There were simply too many questions.

Yet I could sense that Efari, this Matriarch Devourer in front of me, knew some of the answers.

“Tell me, Efari. Just what am I?”

“You are my master, my destined mate, and the Deathwalker of my Goddess. You bear the proof of her mark on your back,” Efari answered coolly. And perhaps it was just my imagination, but I could somehow sense a slight hesitation and perhaps bitterness when she said the words, “my destined mate.”

“And just what is a Deathwalker?” I asked, this time my voice becoming a little firm.

“One who brings death to those in his way and traverses ruin,” she said without hesitation in her neutral voice. I could not tell whether she was lying or not.

But even then—

So, she will not answer clearly, I thought to myself.

I had no methods of forcing Efari to answer honestly, even though I could sense that she was hiding many things. Her strength and power was unknown to me. But instincts and logic told me that Efari was much powerful than me.

“Very well, I shall go to sleep now,” I said. “You should return too.”

“I shall stay the night, Zakir. I only wish to gaze upon you for a while more.”

On my cot, I closed my eyes and unhurriedly went to sleep. Even with the dark and staring eyes of Efari on my face, in the presence of a mosnter whose strength I could not guess, I went to sleep unworried. Somehow, I knew with certainty that Efari would not harm me.

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[12 Days Remaining]

This time, I chose not to sleep for an hour and instead chose to sleep for seven hours. When morning came, Efari was already gone from my tent. I had heard her leaving during the crack of dawn, but I didn't bother to say farewell.

Outside of my tent, and around the camp, I could see the men and few women rinsing their mouth with cold water on crude basins. After rinsing their mouths, they would chew a small piece of herb. The herb was called Whitetooth, the name obviously reflecting its use. It was a major trade product in many of the kingdoms, but since Shail Kingdom was, for the most part, self-independent, the kingdom grew Whitetooth mostly in the southern region before transporting it to the other regions.

The herb was inexpensive, allowing the majority of people in the kingdoms to use it, so only the poorest of the poorest would be unable to buy it daily.

There were other more expensive methods such as breath freshening powders and slightly caustic substances, but that was mostly for the nobles, especially the higher noble ladies.

Aside from selling spices, weapons, carpets, and many various other luxurious products from other kingdoms through ship trading based in the western region, father and I also dabbled a little in hygienic products. Of course, Alan Mead, my father, never touched the darker arts of trade, such as slaves, poisons, and dark potions.

Hah, did you think I was lying when I had told you I was a merchant and quite well read in certain regards?

There were a few whispers and looks the soldiers and knights gave to each other as I passed through sections of the camps, but I only ignored them. Rumors of my loss in the fire magic duel with Eden must have spread to every camp by now.

As I had found out, soldiers and knights off-duty, and particularly before wartime, were more talkative than your mothers-in-law or little girls bursting with energy. I particularly knew well of the latter since as a child, I had observed little girls my age.

It was...well...interesting to see what others my age were doing. And to be honest, I was disappointed by the fairer sex that were around my age when I was a little child. I never did particularly get why dolls were so intriguing.

They seemed, not at all, amusing to me. Rather, I found it a waste of time.

Quite a bit curious about this as a nine year old child, I went toward the house of a small girl whom I had been observing for some time—from a far distance, of course. The house was located in the corner of a small street of a city my father and I had been staying for some time.

If I had to estimate, the house was normal, perhaps a little larger than the average house. The walls of the two-story house were also clean and somewhat new still, so I guessed the family to be living better than the average family.

Thus, with my expert bodyguard silently following behind me—father had not trusted me to go alone until I had turn ten years old—I knocked on the door of the little girl.

The mother of the little girl I had been observing opened the door.

And I, with my cold, blue eyes, said, “May I play with your daughter?”

Naturally, the mother was surprised and even took a step back, looking taken aback. In my defense when I had been a blunt and indifferent human child, I knew very little about human emotions until I turned ten years old. You could say I was late in developing, or rather, feigning emotions.

I could see the mother hesitating, thinking what to do about this strange little boy in front of her demanding / asking to play with her daughter. In hindsight, the mother's eyes were somewhat calculating, as she judged the quality of my clothing.

“Who's your parent,” the mother asked. She had asked the question that started with “who,” and not with “where.”

“Falin Mead,” I instantly replied.

The mother, all of a sudden, put on her brightest smile—she was still young and somewhat pretty-looking. And she knew who my father was, a rich merchant who was staying in this small city for a while. “And what's your name?”

“Alan Mead.”

“I see. I see.” She nodded as if that was a natural outcome. “Well, come on in then.”

Thus, I entered the house of that little girl.

Inside the somewhat spacious living room, I saw the little girl with brown hair and brown eyes playing with her four dolls on the carpeted floor. Her hair was short and she had a small smattering of freckles near her nose. Her attire consisted of a simple white dress with black flowers. Pretty enough for the most part, I suppose. I had not really been paying attention.

“Good afternoon,” I said.

The little girl looked up and instantly showed an expression of annoyance. “Who are you,” she said imperiously. Her tone made her question seemed more like a statement.

I replied back indifferently, “Alan.”

“I see,” she said, looking back down on her dolls.

“Is it not proper manners to give me your name also,” I said.

The brown-haired girl continued ignoring me, while I silently watched her play with her dolls and silently waited for her reply. A minute passed by as the silent atmosphere reigned over the living room—she was the only child and her mother was busy elsewhere. Only the two of us were alone in the room.

“What is so amusing about these dolls?”

“You are annoying. Go away,” the girl finally deigned to reply. It was the first time in my life as a child that I had received such replies and such an attitude from someone my own age, not that I had much experience with others my own age.

Seeing that conversing with her was not going to work, I tried another method.

I sat down in front of the short, brown-haired girl and grabbed one of her dolls, a blonde girl doll.

It was unexpected. It was unthinkable. It was surprising.

Never in my mind, which was still afflicted with naivety as a nine year old child, would I have expected her fist to come flying at my face.

Her attack put me off balance for a short second and though she was a girl and had a child-like strength, it was still painful. I could feel that a bruise was going to form on my face, specifically my cheek.

“That hurts, you know,” I said, somewhat surprised. I was not angry, however. I only knew that I needed to retaliate.

Thus, I punched her back.

My punch put the girl off balance also and I knew there was going to be a bruise forming on her face.

“An eye for an eye, a cheek for a cheek,” I calmly said toward the girl who was holding her cheek with one hand in surprise.

Then she tackled me and we both went down on the carpet, each of us trying to gain the advantage. Our little fists went for each other and her attacks were furious. In the end, after a few minutes of fighting had passed, we were both tired and beaten and bruised.

I would have liked to say I got in more blows, but that would have been lying. The girl had been furious and quick in her attacks and kicks.

I laid beside her on the floor, panting for breath. And before I knew what was happening, the girl got on top of me and kissed my lips hard. It was a childlike kiss. It was forceful and not a kiss at all, rather our two lips just smacked into each other. It was rather painful, to be honest.

“Mother says to kiss the man who can be my better,” the girl only replied. “But you are not really my better, so for that kiss—the girl slapped my face once more.

“...” I became silent. I didn't know what was wrong with this girl and her mother.

“My name is Arina.”

Thus, this was how my first kiss was stolen, and how I first started learning more about human emotions. But let us go more into detail about that later.

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I was at the mage section of the camp, and the time was just about enough right for the fresh Air mages scout I had sent to return.

It took only an hour of waiting before five of them, three males and two females, descended from the air.

“General Verath,” the leading female bowed. “Our scouting was successful.”

“Continue,” I said.

“The enemy army changed direction a little and based on this new path, it seems they will head for the area between the third earthen regional defense and fourth earthen regional defense.”

“Very well, all is going as expected,” I said. “Their own scouts of Air mages must have confirmed that this was the weakest section of defense.”

I smiled inwardly to myself. How wrong the enemy forces are.

The area between the third earthen regional defense and fourth earthen regional defense was the best spot.

“Very well, starting from today, we shall make haste for the third earthen regional defense and fourth earthen regional defense. It shall only take us about nine days to arrive there. By then, the enemy forces will be seen clearly in the distance. Likewise, the same goes for the enemy. They shall also see us, if their scouts have not already reported our gathering here.”

“If they did scout us without the 17th and 18th Air Mage Battalions knowing, General Verath, we shall tear off our symbols and offer our lives in apologies. We have been guarding the air space around this region, so none should have trespassed without us knowing!”

I nodded, knowing that these Air mages were competent.

“Dismissed. And have some rest for now. We shall be leaving in two hours for the third and fourth earthen regional defense, where we shall set up our positions.”