Realm of Monsters - Chapter 688: Life & Death

Chapter 688: Life & Death

  The world shifted in hues of grey every step Stryg took. It was disorienting, but Stryg had begun to recognize the change as the book showed him another memory. The only constant through every change was a shimmering orb of light hovering above him, like a lighthouse in the midst of a storm. The orb would disappear every time a memory fully formed and reappear as the memory fell apart in a storm of grey hues.

  How many memories Stryg had gone through tonight, he wasn’t certain. The memories always left his mind befuddled, like waking from a dream. Time moved differently here. What felt like several days within a memory could have been only a handful of minutes in the real world.

  Sometimes he was Stryga, seeing through her eyes. Other times, he was an outsider, looking in, a silent observer. He had witnessed at least a dozen memories of Stryga’s encounters with Stjerne, each as unexpected as the last. His father had always seemed calm, kind even. Until the last memory, when he had visited Nalindra as she trained and tested her, against Stryga’s wishes. 

  For a brief moment, Stryg saw the face of Death as he was the first time his great-grandmother had encountered him. Cold. All-powerful. His morality didn’t bend to the ways of mortal-kind. Perhaps that made him a monster to mortals. Stryg didn’t know, but for some reason, the realization gave him a small sense of comfort. 

  The grey hues swirling around him finally settled as a new memory took place. Stryg almost tripped over himself as his feet slammed into familiar wooden floors. He knew this place. Wooden walls, painstakingly carved by expert craftsmen over decades. The skulls, furs, and feathers of great beasts hung on the walls. This was the Sylvan hall of the Mothers. Why was this here? The hall shouldn’t have been constructed at least for several more decades.

  A baby’s cry broke him from his thoughts. He followed the sound to the back of Sylvan Hall and slowly pushed the door open. Several women dressed in pale leather robes and crowned with scarlet wreaths stood around a bed. Their attire marked them as Sylvan Mothers, but Stryg did not recognize any of them.

  He searched for Lenore, the old Lunisian priestess who had been with Captain Nalindor and Sevryn when Lunis fell. If anyone was the true First Mother of the Blood Fang Tribe, it was her. But she was nowhere to be found.

  Instead, the scarlet-black wreath— the symbol of a First Mother —was sitting on the brow of a woman Stryg did not know. She was old, at least when it came to the goblins’ average lifespan in Vulture Woods. The stray grey hairs amidst the black and the crow’s feet around her eyes denoted a woman in her fifties. 

  Stryg walked around to get a better look when he spotted a familiar woman lying in the bed, covered in sweat. Nalindra panted with exhausted breaths, her white hair soaked and draped over the pillow. A newborn baby lay curled next to her. Warm, light green skin veiled in blood. A few black strands of hair clung to his head.

  “He’s a healthy goblin boy,” said the First Mother.

  “Thank the goddess.” “He even has black hair.” “Unlike the other one.” The rest of the Mothers whispered amongst themselves.

  Nalindra frowned, but she hardly had the strength to breathe, let alone speak. The door slammed open, and the group of Mothers jumped, save for the First Mother. “You are not allowed in this place.”

  “While you serve as mid-wives, yes, I’m aware,” Stryga walked in, eyes narrowed. “But it seems your task is over. And yet you’re all still here.”

  “The mother and child are resting. Do you expect us to just abandon her?” First Mother gave her an incredulous look.

  “I can take care of my family now, thank you very much. So, if any of you have something else to say about my family’s appearance, then speak clear and plain. I’ll happily meet you outside. We’ll even duel under the moonlight of your goddess so that she may witness as I cut you down.”

  The rest of the Sylvan Mothers stared at their feet and stepped away from the bed, twitching nervously.

  “No takers?” Stryga hefted the toddler in her arm and raised her voice to an almost coo sound, “What do you think, Auri? Should we take care of these annoying women for bullying your momma? Hm?”

  Aurelia tried to lean out of Stryga’s grip and reached out for Nalindra with her pudgy little hands. “Mo-ma!”

  Stryg stared in disbelief. “Mom?” he whispered. She was so small, with a head of wild, white hair, bright eyes, and pudgy cheeks.

  “Spare them, you say? Well, if you insist,” Stryga nodded to the toddler.

  “I’d appreciate it if you don’t threaten my Sisters,” First Mother said through a troubled smile.

  “And I’d appreciate it if you don’t speak ill of my daughter when she’s at her weakest,” Stryga growled. 

  “We’d never—”

  “I have sharper ears than you think. I hear what you whisper amongst yourselves when you believe you are alone. Whatever you may think you know about my daughter, the truth is Nalindra has been leading this tribe since before any of you were born. And while I can tell you relish seeing her weakened and unable to put down your impish dissent as usual, I will do it for her. Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

  “The baby still needs to be washed,” one of the Mothers spoke up.

  An umbral whip lashed out from Stryga’s shadow and wrapped around the goblin’s waist. With a snap of Stryga’s fingers, the Mother was yanked out of the room. The goblin’s distant scream was cut short as she slammed into something hard. Only her faint whimpers filled the silence that followed.

  “Anyone else have something to say?” Stryga cocked an eyebrow.

  “Let’s go,” First Mother ushered the rest of her Sisters out of the room with sudden urgency.

  “M-Mom,” Nalindra said with a parched voice.

  “I’m here,” Stryga rushed to her side. “And look who I brought.”

  “Hi, baby,” Nalindra smiled weakly at her daughter.

  “Ma-ma!” Aurelia went to reach for Nalindra, but then she noticed the newborn. Her eyes went wide with curiosity. “Is dat?”

  “Auri, meet your little brother,” Stryga whispered. 

  Aurelia shimmied out of her grandmother’s arms and crawled on the bed towards her brother.

  “Be careful.” Stryga hovered close by just in case.

  But there was no reason to worry. Aurelia approached the newborn with an almost reverent care.

  “Did you finally decide on a name?” Stryga asked.

  “I was thinking… Gian,” Nalindra said.

  Stryga’s eyes watered and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Really?”

  Aurelia reached down and kissed her brother on his cheek. “I love you, Jahn. I’ll be da bes sister evah, pwomise,” she whispered in the hushed, barely audible voice only toddlers seemed to use.

  “Jahn… I like that,” Stryga said.

  “So do I,” Nalindra replied.

  “Okay, excuse me, girls, but our baby boy is in need of a bath.” Stryga reached over and grabbed Jahn. The baby cried, but Stryga had no trouble carrying him with one hand as she took him over to a nearby table and placed him in a small wash basin.

  Aurelia nestled next to her mom and closed her eyes. Nalindra wrapped an arm around her and sighed in relief. “Thanks, mom.”

  “Not a problem, darling,” Stryga said. “After 250 years of rejecting every suitor, I’m just glad I get to see my grandchildren.”

  “Ha ha,” Nalindra said dryly. “As if I could ever be with someone whom I’ve seen grow from a babe to a man.”

  “Why do you think I kept insisting you visit Evenfall every year?”

  “I thought that was because you wanted me to meet with the other chieftains.”

  Stryga gave her a side eye but didn’t respond.

  Nalindra rolled her eyes. “Where is my mate anyway?”

  “Oh, that lovable idiot? He went off on a hunt early this morning. Wanted to get you a fresh kill to make you stew tonight. Says it’s a family recipe; help with your recovery and all.”

  “He just can’t keep still, can he?” Nalindra sighed.

  “Nope.”

  “You know. You didn’t have to do that. With the Mothers.”

  “Yes, I did. You are a capable leader. You’ve protected this village more times than any chieftain ever has. Your father would be proud. I know I am. So, I’m not going to stand around and do nothing while those women judge you just because you aren’t pureblooded, even if they are priests,” Stryga said adamantly.

  “Mom, it doesn’t matter what they think. So long as you and I protect the village, they can’t do anything except whisper amongst themselves like little girls.”

  “And what about when we’re not? Someday, Aurelia and Jahn will have to lead this tribe. What then? Will we leave them out for the wolves? We need to put down dissent sooner rather than later.”

  “You’ve never bothered to stop what others think in this village.”

  “We won’t live forever, Nali. We need to think about a future without us in it. There, all done.” Stryga wiped Jahn off with a clean cloth and brought him back to his mother.

  “You act as if you’ll drop dead tomorrow. But you still look the same as ever,” Nalindra said.

  “Why, thank you,” Stryga winked. “I’m just preparing for the inevitable, that’s all.”

  “I never thought having a baby would make you feel old, but I guess even the great Blue Rose isn’t infallible.”

  “None of us are, darling.” Stryga kissed Nalindra’s forehead.

  “I miss Dad.”

  “…So do I. Every day.” She cleared her throat, “Get some rest, I’ll make sure no one bothers you. Just say the word and I’ll be here. My ears are sharp, you know.” Stryga flicked her pointy ears.

  “I know, Mom.” Nalindra couldn’t help but crack a small grin.

  Stryga closed the door behind her with a gentle touch and walked over to a table in the main hall. Her legs began to tremble by the time she reached the table. With a heavy grimace, she plopped down on a chair.

  “Why didn’t you tell her?”

  “Holy shit!” Stryga jumped up in surprise.

  A pale figure in a fur cloak sat across from her. He remained at Stryga’s outburst and simply watched her, a glint of curiosity in his lilac eyes.

  Stryga stared at him in turn and sighed. “I was wondering when I’d see you again. I thought you’d show up with Aurelia’s birth, but when you didn’t, I had hoped…”

  “Hoped that I had forgotten our deal?”

  “It has been over two hundred years since we last met.”

  “Apologies. I’ve been preoccupied. The Schism ruined more than you can imagine. And you haven’t had any more children. Your bloodline has remained unchanged… until now.”

  “What can I say? It’s hard to get pregnant when you’re a hybrid,” she shrugged.

  “It would have been easier had you taken another lover over the last two centuries.”

  “…Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Stryga reached for a nearby pitcher and mug, but struggled to reach them.

  “No, I suppose not.” Death stood up, poured her a drink, and handed her the cup.

  “Thanks,” she muttered as she sipped the cup of spiced blood.

  “Why didn’t you tell her?”

  Stryga raised her own and admired the healthy blue skin, free from any blemishes. “The Gale Style keeps the outer appearance youthful. But it can only do so much for what’s inside. Why burden my family with how broken down I truly am?”

  “Do you regret it?”

  “I have many regrets in my life. You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Do you regret making our deal?”

  Stryga gulped down her drink and plopped the cup on the table. She wiped the blood from her lips with the back of her hand and grinned, “Not a chance. I’ve made many mistakes, but this life, here in this place… Well, I wouldn’t change it for a thing.”

  “Then you are more fortunate than most.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am,” Stryga smiled fondly and looked back at the door where her family lay. “Stjerne…?”

  “Hm?”

  Stryga exhaled a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. After a long moment, she gathered the courage to speak. “May I ask you something?”

  “Yes.”

  She struggled to form the words, terrified of the answer. “My brother, does he still live?”

  Death closed his eyes. Finally, after a moment that seemed to stretch on forever he replied. “He does.”

  A tear fell down Stryga’s cheek and she gasped in release. “Is he… is he okay?”

  “I do not know.”

  “…I see.”

  “But I did have one of my servants inquire about your family.”

  “What?” She raised her head.

  “I was curious about the place that produced a woman as unique as you. Unfortunately, my servant’s assessment was all terribly boring. Just nobles scrounging for the smallest scraps of power. But there was one person who caught my eye. Your brother. The most powerful vampire in the city, if not the entire realm. He could be a conqueror if he desired; people would surely follow him. And yet he spent most of his time simply sitting under a yew tree. Odd, isn’t it?”

  “He’s still waiting?” Stryga whispered, tears in her eyes. “You asked me about regrets. Gian is my greatest regret. Even after all these years, he believes in me, in our promise. And I’ll never get to see him again.”

  Stryga wiped her tears and looked Death in the eyes. “You guided Nalindor through the Soul Chasm.”

  “So I did.”

  “Could you guide me to my brother?”

  “Your brother still lives and he will continue to do so long after you’re gone.”

  “It doesn’t matter how long. I’ll wait.”

  “…It will be lonely. You will be trapped in a place between this world and the Soul Chasm.”

  “I’ll gladly pay the price.” 

  “Very well.”

  Stryga struggled to her feet, her countenance calm, steady. “Do what you’ve come here to do.”

  The youth’s visage faded away and a god appeared in his place, looming over Stryga. She did not look away, but held her ground. Death placed his index finger over her heart. “I’m glad I met you, Stryga Veres. Of all the mortals I’ve known, you are one of the most interesting.”

  “Thank you, for sparing my life and giving me a chance to live it. I’m glad I met you, Traveler. I’m ready.”

  He smiled. “It is not your time, not yet.”

  “But I thought—?”

  “I am not a god of life, but I can stave off the inevitable if only for a little while.” A surge of power surged out from his finger and into her heart.

  She felt her knees grow weak and struggled to stay standing.

  “The next time we meet will not be in this life but somewhere in between.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered with a trembling lip.

  “Goodbye, Stryga Veres.”

  She looked up but he was already gone. A silver feather lying on the floor was all that remained. 

  The world fell apart in a storm of grey hues and Stryg knew he would find no more memories of Stryga in her enchanted book. A warm touch on his cheek woke him. He was back on the small ship his friends had stolen from the port town. His head was lying on Tauri’s lap and he opened his eyes to find her looking down at him, her face filled with worry. “Stryg, you’re crying.”

  He shifted, buried his face in her waist, and wrapped his arms around her. He cried quietly for a woman he had come to love— whom he had never met, and who died before he was ever born.