Chapter 11 - Dawn

"I know this already, maybe… not in such detail but I know of Yeonmo", I said. I rubbed specks of sleep from my eyes, it had felt like I was listening to the Elders of my village tell stories of the Deities that roamed the earth. I had loved it then, the myths, the mysteries, and lore. But now, I could not help but feel like I was living in a precautionary tale – why you shan't turn to stealing and killing to save yourself from the demons of ancient kingdoms.

"I am trying to paint a picture", Mikhael said, his voice annoyed. We shared some of the dried fish he had packed in his bag and alcohol that he said would help me keep warm even as the rain faded. I was not one to say no to a drink, under any circumstances.

"You sound like you were there", I continued, breaking a part of the dried fish. He looked at me like I had solved a riddle. "Oh… so you… you were there?"

"I wasn't, but my father was. He told me the story when I grew up."

"And your father was?"

"Unimportant", he continued.

"But… Yeonmo fell centuries ago. How…"

"I am human, but also, I am not. My father was a Spirit that fell in love with my human mother, and as Yeonmo fell, he fled and met my mother some decades later. She died many, many years ago."

"You're much more interesting than I first thought", I said and took a sip of the burning liquor. I felt it travel down my throat to my belly, settling there, hugging me. I felt tired, sleepy. Mikhael was indeed more interesting than I first thought. Older than I thought, I had known he was not of normal human age, but still. A half-spirit.

"So, what are your powers? Do I know of your father? Is he a famous spirit? Perhaps a spirit of Love? Of the Moon? Or something else entirely, of War? Uriel?" Mikhael looked at me again, his eyes filled with annoyance, and… it felt like intrigue.

"Uriel wasn't a Spirit", he reminded me. I nodded. I thought of the power he had, the fire, the pulsating electric magic that I felt emanating from his body. It must take so much of his energy to control it, like locking away a thunderstorm. I had no powers, nothing that emanated, drew people in. I had myself, and at best a sword or a knife, my vits I felt, had let me down the moment I stepped foot into that Merchant's house.

"Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?"

"I know the story already. Iilan found out about his daughter's secret lover, burning the forest to the ground in hopes of killing Uriel. But he did not know that Uriel and Eania had their love bound together already. Tying their fates to each other, and as Iilan tried to kill Uriel, Eania fell ill.

Eania had sacrificed the magical powers that pulsated inside of her to be with the demon that she loved, to gamble for eternal life. But it was all in vain. The Necro-Deity broke free from his prison to secure the bond between his son and Eania, but at the Temple, the Demon found that she was already bound to another, and in rage, he burned the kingdom to the ground."

"That's not really..." Mikhael said but cut himself off mid-sentence as I glared at him. He sighed, smiling.

I looked through the cave opening where dawn was closing in, cutting through the night with a bright pink light. Perhaps this is what the sky of Yeonmo looked like, every day. I felt the forest awaken under me; the ground rumbled as the Spirits of the sky danced just above us.

--

The forest was peaceful. Drops of rainfall from the leaves of the trees, oaks and birch, and ash. The birds woke up, calling to each other, warning perhaps, about us. In another life maybe I could've enjoyed these things more – the magic of nature. The company of ancient powers, strange mages, and healers, perhaps I could've been a hero too. I laughed at my thoughts, tracing the light of the sky with my eye. Feeling at the edge of the hollowness in my head with my fingers and I thought of Eania and Uriel, the folly of Emperors that made their people suffer, the Demons that tormented and cursed us. I wanted nothing more than to wake up, in the Pits, maybe next to Augustus. I wanted to feel his skin against my cheek as the gloomy morning light crawled through the window of his small room.

I wanted to smell him, the sweat and meaty scent that followed him after hours of work. Wood and ember and salt in his hair. I wanted Verity, to be near her and drink tea with her, walk through the gardens on the outskirts of town, and watch as kids bathed in the dirty rivers. I wanted to hear stories of our village, our islands. I wanted to talk to the elders and remember the taste of pink peaches in a constant summer haze. I wanted to feel like I knew what I was doing, again. Tormenting those that tormented us, and I wanted my left eye back.

I thought of the last week that had been filled with a constant sensation of loss, of the Mists and hounds and blood and darkness. More than anything, I wanted vengeance. For them, for us, the forgotten children. For Eania perhaps, who was cursed before she even drew breath, like so many other daughters.

"You disappeared again", Mikhael said, waving his hand in front of my face, bringing me back into my body.

"Sorry", I said and rubbed my eye again. "I got lost in thought."

"What thought?" I shook my head.

"Of simplicity, I think. Of all of which could've been had I not picked destruction and carnage at every given opportunity." I looked at my hands and saw the caked blood of all of those that had crossed my path. Sorrow filled me, where I had once had anger, strength, and passion. Mikhael looked out of the cave as well, at the morning light trickling between the wet leaves. We sat there, wanting, remembering. As if he felt what I was feeling, he gestured to me to come closer. I moved closer and felt his shoulder against mine. He leaned closer too.

"I'm sorry about your fiance… and the way I reacted at dinner. It was unfair of me."

Mikhael held a breath, a look of shock or surprise on his face, as he shook his head.

"There isn't a day that I don't regret what I did. My wife… She would be embarrassed by me; she would've hated me for it." With a deep sigh, he looked at his hands, and I felt that similar feeling of despair as he thought of those that he had sent to the ground. Though I rarely had qualms about the people I killed, most of them deserving, the servants of the Merchant still haunted me, as I assume the witches still haunted Mikhael.

"What was her name?"

"Iyana."

"Beautiful moon…" was the meaning of his wife's name in a dead tongue. I had learned some of it from Verity, who collected all sorts of stories and books and knowledge about dead languages. I liked the names, filled with love and dreams and wishes for their child.

"You know the Eldritch languages?"

"Not really, I just like old names of things and people, it tells a story…", I looked at Mikhael and the sun slit through the sky and the tree crowns, a beam hit him perfectly in the face and he looked like a Deity. His olive-hued skin gleamed, the dark eyes catching some of the light, like a blank canvas, letting them be filled with the colors and light of nature. He looked like what I had imagined the son of a beloved Spirit would look like. Ethereal.

"We should sleep", I said. Cutting off my thoughts I cleared my throat.

"Something else on your mind?" he asked, his tone teasing, gleeful. I shook my head and got to my feet. Mikhael still on the ground looked up at me and I had to catch my breath at the sight of him. I blamed the fire, his magic. It had corrupted me, making me think of him…

"I would rather have another go with the Dredge hounds, thank you very much…" he cocked his head back and laughed.

"My money is on the Dredge hounds then…"

"Traitor."

--

I walked back inside the cave, bringing the Book with me.

My hands stroked the carvings of it, the emeralds and crystals. It had been quiet since the meeting with… that man. That demon. I unfolded my bedroll and lay down, the cave floor smelling of wet stone and murky water. My eyes did not peel from the Book. My hand fell to the lock at the side of it... what spells could be written inside of it, what secrets needed a lock. Even dark magic books in the libraries of Crescent City were without lock and key.

The Book had purred at him and - me, I had kissed both a demon and a half-spirit this night. If only Verity was here, I wouldn't mind her scolding, only once.