Ch. 12

“Snide”

No creature dared disturb the giant white beast that is Halfy. We push deeper into the forest for what seems like hours, though it feels like I am frozen in time, each second etching into my mind forever — just in case I never get to experience this again.

As we pass a stump, I watch a group of Ieles, or fairies as most mortals call them, floating inside. Their faint lights glow softly, illuminating their tiny, delicate faces as they flitter about. They look so precious. I want to put one in my pocket and take it back to the castle with me.

Zanir seems unfazed behind me, but I refuse to look to check. The thought stings, that someone who has witnessed so much beauty could remain unmoved. A wave of jealousy washes over me, he sits there as the forest passes by like it is just another backdrop for his continuous play of existence, but to me, it is alive, pulsing with a sense of magic, power, I have never seen. Does he even care? It frustrates me — no, it infuriates me — that he seems untouched, as if nothing penetrates his facade. Is that what it means to live for centuries? To be numb to beauty?

Halfy navigates through a cluster of embered trees, sending some Tanukis coons scurrying up their branches. Their ringed tails catch the faint moonlight above. They’re so cute, but I can’t forget — those little hands can be deadly if they feel threatened. Deathly tiny thumbs. Their beady eyes gleam with curiosity before they vanish into the canopy.

At one point, I thought I saw an Anansi spider, and I had a death grip on Halfy’s ear. Few things make me squirm, but the thought of an Anansi creeping toward me makes my skin crawl. With their eight hairy legs. I would scream if one came near me. A shiver runs down my spine and I see Zanir smirking out the corner of my eye. 

“Very expressive,” Zanir whispers into the night, dripping with amusement. “Quite the display of faces you make.” His voice drifts around me like smoke, almost too casual, but there is a weight behind it that makes my skin crawl. “It’s curious,” he adds, his words barely more than a breath.

For a moment, a flicker of a memory emerges, the boy from the port, his face blurred and unfamiliar, his voice low with a similar, almost amused quality. I catch the vague scent of saltwater and fish. “So much can be gathered from just a look.” He said, watching me recoil at a fisherman’s grimy bucket. But the image fades as quickly as it came, slipping back into the fog. I blink, grounding myself in the present, in Zanir’s shadowed gaze.

I hiss in his direction before noticing a Kitsune stalking along the edges of some bushes. Drawing my attention back to the forest, the world I wanted so badly to explore. The Kitsune looks like a pure white fox with nine flowing tails that move swiftly back into the forest. Where were you earlier when I was wandering for something to catch my attention? I would have preferred you.

The occasional wisp glides around us as we advance, almost close enough for me to touch them with my wings. Their ethereal glow lit up the tips of my body. Wisps, I imagine, feel like the softest of silks. I just want to touch one. Just once.

We do not speak anymore as Halfy paves through the Endless Forest. The silence between us turns into a stilling comfort. Just the sounds of the night sky and nighttime creatures filling the surrounding air.

__

Sleep begins to pull at me, and I can’t resist as the god of slumber, Hypos, calls my name. I nestle between Halfy’s ears and I drift away, miraculously staying perched there as my body falls into dormancy. Exhaustion finally took over, and my body fell victim to any attempt to recover from what I lost.

I am only awoken by the abrupt stopping of Halfy, jolting me forward. I flutter down to the ground, landing with a small thud. I give Halfy a sideways glance, his golden ginger eyes fixed on what is ahead of us — I follow his gaze. For a moment, my heart quickens as I follow his stare, bracing for whatever — in the Endless Forest…

A vast lake dominates the landscape, with small river channels branching out from it. Towering Zis mountain ranges frame the lake, their peaks rising high above while steep cliffs plunge into the water’s edge. In the center, the two ranges converge, forming a narrow valley through which a sizable river carves its path.

This is the path we must take — a narrow valley flanked by the towering peaks of the Zis mountains. Beyond it lies a small village, a brief respite before the last leg of our journey back to my cage, the castle. The thought of returning sends a shiver down my spine, but first, we must survive the valley during day fall. I can almost feel the creatures unseen, watching, waiting for their chance to bounce during the night.

I recall seeing the Onkiuma battling it out over a piece of fruit, a reminder of the dangers that lurk in the caves within that valley. It is far too dangerous to cross safely at night. As much as I trust Halfy to protect me at all costs, an Onkiuma is not something I want to face in the dead of night. Besides, I’m too drained to be of much help anyway, and let’s not forget the mortal vampire man tagging along with us now.

Annoying.

Halfy has covered so much ground, and it doesn’t surprise me. I passed this lake a few days ago — or at least, it feels like a few days, as my time has blurred together. The moon has passed the mountains now, and I estimate sunrise is only a few hours away. We’ll need to set up camp soon and rest before we tackle the valley. Most creatures of the Endless Forest fear the sunlight and will retreat deeper into the woods or closer into their caves, seeking shelter until night falls again.

I glance at the dark sky, where clouds are swirling and twisting like painting strokes, matching the turmoil still inside me. The impending rain could make our journey through the valley even more perilous, and I bet Zanir will have something to say about the increased mud. My anxiety grows, causing my lips to twitch.

Zanir, seemingly unfazed still, annoyingly so, hops off Halfy, proving he’s not a total waste of a mortal man — which almost irritates me. Must be nice to have long legs. The moment Zanir’s feet touch the ground, Halfy takes off, leaving us both behind without a second thought. There’s a storm brewing above, and I wonder if Zanir’s demeanor will hold when the rain finally falls.

Halfy runs alongside the breeze, almost like a blinding white light streaking across the small river channels that lead to the lake. He races past the mountain ranges to a cliff high above the water — too high for any mortal creature to dare jump from, but not Halfy. He reaches the edge, and a slight gleam of his golden ginger eyes catches the moonlight.

He locks eyes with me, and instinctively, my mental door creaks open. I brace myself, anticipating an assault from the beast I’ve kept hidden behind those barriers. It feels reckless, but I can sense Halfy’s anticipation waiting across our bond. My mind remains silent, for now, the beast within is still hiding.

I feel myself strolling through Halfy’s mind, our bond reducing the distance from hundreds of yards to mere inches. It is intoxicating, but I can’t shake the dread when this wooden splintering door opens. What if I lose myself? What if the beast slips through without me realizing it?

Halfy’s mind pushes my thoughts away as I am now looking through his ginger eyes. As I see through his eyes, my breath catches. His muscles tighten beneath his white fur, a shudder of anticipation racing down his back. My heart thumps in sync with his as his paws leave the cliff’s edge and we soar, weightless. My own wings twitch with a phantom excitement. When the icy water engulfs him, a blast of cold shocks me back into my body, and I gasp as if I had been the one to plunge into the lake. His lingering comforting presence battles the chill that moves across my skin.

A shiver runs through my core. Only a splash of water remains in his wake. The water is much deeper than it looks. Halfy’s white fur occasionally glows in the moonlight as he surfaces for breaths. I snap back into myself, glancing around, and find a decently sized rock to sit on — not to throw — this time. I fly atop it and watch as Halfy emerges from the lake, his tail flicking and creating large splashes as he moves through the tides.

I close my mental door, checking every latch twice. I have to be more careful. One slip and everything could shatter. I can almost hear Devlyn speaking the words to me. Mihaela, you need to be careful…Mihaela, remember… only you can choose to guard it. Her voice coming back to me like a scent of cold metal on training days, steadying me as I tried to push through doubt.

I see it again now — Devlyn watching me spar with another shifter, her eyes like iron as he stood against the backdrop of the outdoor training ring. I had been losing ground, caught up in my own head, my doubt seeping in. But her words pulled me back, sharper than any blow I could take. And in that moment, I took control.

A new unease takes root. The beast within me paces just beyond my door, waiting, watching for a moment of weakness. How much longer can I keep it locked away?

I glance back to Zanir because my eyes seem to fall on him, excruciatingly. He is now standing by the water at the shoreline. He seems lost in thought, his gaze distant and unfocused. His fingers drum impatiently against his thigh — a stark contrast to the mesmerizing movements of Halfy swimming.

I watch him and my mind races to the possibilities. I shouldn’t care about how long it has been for him, but I do. His life stretches back for centuries, but here I am, barely twenty-eight years into mine, stumbling through each experience while he stands there like a ghost from another world. Why does it matter to me how long he has been this way? Why do I even care?

As I sit here, a storm of frustration churned within me. It twists my stomach into knots, a tight coil that seemed to constrict my very breath. I could just ask? No, that is stupid. No…maybe?

Zanir’s frustrating mutters break the silence of our reality as he pokes at his stomach. “What is this gnawing sensation? Is this — mortal hunger?” His eyes flash with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “After centuries, this is what I am reduced to?” He chuckles and his eyes light up a bit. “How do mortals tolerate this?”

“Oh, poor vampire man,” I coo, fluttering my wings as I land beside him. “Reduced to the mortal scrounge of hunger. How tragic.” Beneath the jest, my heart races at the thought of his endless existence, so unlike mine. I glance at his stomach, hearing it growl again, and my smirk widens. “Maybe I should throw you another rock to chew on.”

My smirk falters for a moment, replaced by a sense of curiosity. How long has it been for him? Since he felt hunger in the way humans do? How long did he walk this world, ageless and immortal, watching as time bends and breaks others? I clench my jaw. Why do I care? And yet, the questions keep coming, crawling into the corners of my mind. His past feels like the shadows he wielded hovering just out of reach, and the more I think about it, the more it eats at me. Frustration swells in my chest, twisting into something else. A need, almost primal, to know him. To understand. It is maddening.

“I can see it on your face.” Zanir’s voice cuts through my thoughts, his tone laced with mocking amusement. “You’re practically shouting those questions in your head, the ones you won’t say out loud.” He leans in slightly, his smile as sharp as a dagger. “Come on, ask your questions. Or are you too stubborn to find out?”

A moment of recognition stirs within me, echoing the way a boy once studied me at the busy port, his words lingering like shadows. My lips may be quiet, but my face betrays my thoughts. The memory is fleeting, a whisper of something half-formed. It leaves me uncertain, wondering just how well he can see through my defenses.

My heart felt like a pendulum, swinging wildly between a desperate need to know and a gnawing fear of the truths that lay hidden. Slowly coming back from my reverie, I shoot him a glare, refusing to give him the satisfaction of catching me off guard.

“You’re awfully full of yourself for someone who is starving,” I groan, but the teasing tone slips from my voice. My mind races, and despite myself, the questions burst out before I can stop them. “How long has it been?” The eagerness lingering in the air, almost tangible, my frustration bubbling up with it. I hesitate, just for a second. “Since you were… mortal?”

Any information for the clan is valuable, and who wouldn’t be curious? I am barely twenty-eight years old — I can’t imagine living for hundreds of years, seeing, witnessing, and discovering so much. Unless he was recently turned or born? I’m not sure how that works exactly, but given his power, and the way it smelled, I doubt Zanir was born yesterday.

Zanir looks me in the eyes, and I hate it. His stare feels like a dagger to the stomach, exposing every fear, and every doubt I try to hide. I shuffle uncomfortably, suddenly aware of my vulnerability, and the power he seems to wield over me, although I took all of his power from him. But as much as I hate it, there is a thrill in the danger of his proximity.

His gaze drifts back to Halfy, who’s happily swimming in the lake. Zanir hesitates as if weighing whether to speak or stay quiet. When he finally does speak, a small wave of relief washes over me. The stillness was starting to nag at me, each second stretching into an eternity of my unanswered questions, and fast pacing thoughts.

“Over two hundred years.” He says flatly like his mind is elsewhere. Carrying a weight of indifference — his eyes drift, lost in some distant memory.

I remain silent, though my mind is brimming with questions. It feels like a physical ache, the effort of keeping everything bottled up inside over decades. Every unchallenged question is a dull throb in my chest, but I force myself to stay quiet. Biting the inside of my cheek.

Two hundred years. Two centuries. All that time to just go wherever, do whatever, for as long as you want. I feel something move just under my skin, but Zanir’s voices slice through it like a well-aimed dagger.

“I am not from here. I came over about a century ago. I am originally from Espa, across the sea, where Akhluts also roam. That’s how I knew to climb trees.” Zanir lets out a faint, dry laugh, his cerulean eyes glinting with a mixture of nostalgia and something darker, a fleeting sense of old regrets. “Espa, where the winds hum with ancient songs and magic seeps through the icy air. But, it wasn’t enough. I left it behind, searching for something else — someone, actually.” His voice trails off before glancing around him. “Everywhere I went, though, the shadows always found me. Though I seem to have misplaced them recently… maybe someone here is to blame for that.” He quirks a brow, casting me a teasing look.

“Well, aren't you full of surprises,” I quip, arching a brow back at him before the floodgates of my curiosity burst open. Nope, too much. I can’t bear it any longer. My interest bubbles over every question I have been holding back from coming to the surface.

My mind races, tumbling through everything I want to know. He has been to places I have only read about, seen lands I could only dream of. The thoughts spill over faster than I can rein them in.

“Espa, you say? Fascinating. What’s it like? Is it as freezing as I have read? Do the glaciers truly look like those in books? Have you ever dared to leap from a fjord? And Akhluts — how common are they in your homeland? You must’ve seen them often, and the stories you must have. How do the locals — how do they handle being around such dominating beasts all the time?” The words tumble out of me in a rush, no longer containable.

It is strange how easily the words slip past my lips now, when normally I would lock them behind silence, keeping questions tucked away in the safety of my mind. Yet here, with this smirky mortal vampire, years of being contained and hushed, all seems to fall apart, I can’t stop myself. Was it the forest? The distance away from the castle? Or even Halfy who swimming happily in the lake in front of us? Zanir’s eyes study me, and I realize how quickly the words moved past my mouth. Curb it, Mihaela. I think, before starting again, more posed this time.

“Luckily, you knew about Akhluts — most aren’t so fortunate with Halfy. Though… I’ll admit, I am a bit disappointed he didn’t catch you — that would have been a sight to see.” I shake my wings to help release the nervous energy that moves across my skin, then I look back at the lake, watching the shining white fur moving freely across the water. Uncaged and independent.

Even as I bombard Zanir with questions, my thoughts drift to Halfy’s wrath. As my thoughts normally do, jumping with no clear direction. There have been creatures, even scouts, who have suffered because of Halfy — all having something to do with me, whether or not there was a valid reason. Taeral is one of the few I don’t regret, though I can’t fully remember why. An exposed, crumbling feeling replaces the tickling of my anxiety only a few moments ago.

Zanir watches me, his cerulean eyes piercing through my defenses, and I feel bumps crawling up my wings. What does he see? Can he sense the beast within, just beneath the surface? Does he know how wild my powers are becoming? What about the ice that lays dormant until I least expect it? I changed my mind. Let’s reverse the subject before I turn into a frozen bat.

His posture shifts slightly, an intensity creeping into his gaze as his brow furrows, as if he is searching for something. A tension builds in the air, and I catch the way his eyes glide over me, lingering too long for my comfort. I change my mind. Let’s reverse the subject before I turn into a frozen bat.

“I’m guessing mortal hunger is not the same as vampiric hunger, is it?” My eyes move to the lake, but I feel them drift back to Zanir. The small knot from the rock I threw at him hours ago catches my attention, and a small smile slips across my lips. “I can only imagine the difference in cravings.”

He says nothing at first, and then he rubs his temples like he knew I was looking at the knot on his head. Zanir thinks for a moment. “Vampiric hunger is more of a need, a desire, a yearning, a thirst.” He quickly flashes a smile at me. No fangs. “Almost animalistic.” Zanir tilts his head slightly like a predator sizing up its prey. 

Waiting for me to have some rebuttal. Does Zanir know? Does he know any of it? No. That’s not even possible. Or maybe it is? After all, many creatures fill this forest, all these lands, this world. He has been around for centuries, so he may have encountered creatures like me — well, maybe a little similar to me. I’ve been told more than once I am different, or better yet, an anomaly.

Scowling, Zanir looks back to the lake while running his fingers through his long, dark, mahogany hair. “Most definitely not annoying.” He responds, poking at his stomach again. “How do I fix this…hunger?” A low grumble emanates from his abdomen. He looks at me, puzzled. “It is speaking now.”

“Food would probably help,” I smirk at him.

“What kind of food?” Zanir asks, a hint of irritation edging his voice as his eyes narrow. “Is there a mortal book somewhere? I have completely forgotten what mortals eat.” He sounds irritated, but there is a hint of curiosity behind his cerulean eyes.

The question triggers a memory, and I start rummaging through my satchel. Thank goddess Nyx, Halfy found it — I’m having a harder time keeping track of it lately. You know, impending doom and all. As I dig through the satchel, I remember the bread I stashed away, or stole from the kitchen, depending on who you ask. I find it, but it is crumbled into almost nothing. This poor satchel has been through hell. Cleaning the bottom of it is going to suck once it’s back to normal size — crumbs everywhere.

My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten in a while. Which isn’t something the beast within will not tolerate forever. Maybe I should have eaten that moth. No, that is ridiculous. I shake my head, trying to push the unpleasant thought of eating a moth away and coming back to reality.

“Usually food the kind… you eat — well, maybe not you.” I say, still half-lost in my thoughts and the crumbs in my satchel. “I don’t have any, sadly — at least none that I’m willing to give up.” My face scrunches involuntarily as I catch Zanir’s mischievous grin, his sharp features making him all the more unsettling. My blood is mine fangless man. My eyes flash back at the soothing water in front of us, hoping to find something else to focus on in the ripples of the water.

The water near the shore is so clear in the moonlight that every rock, plant, and swimming fish is visible. Survey training with Devlyn and Iamys, has its benefits. Notice everything, I can almost hear her say, urging me to notice every detail.

I remember a day outside the training area, where the stables buzzed with life. Horses, whinnied, their hooves clattering against the stone floors, while the stall boys hustled in and out, carrying hay and water. The air was heavy with the scent of manure and the warmth of the animals.

“Notice anything?” Devlyn’s voice moves through my mind. Her inked arms crossed over her chest.

Iamys, stands next to me, his tawny eyes scanning the area, glancing at the stable boys, but amid the chaos, I focused, scanning the stalls, trying to tune out the noise. My eyes landed on a mare — one that had recently given birth. She paced her stall, snorting and nipping at anyone who dared, approached, a clear sign of her agitation. It took a moment to spot her frustration among the other movement, but I noticed it immediately, a sharp instinct honed from years of training.

“The mare. Is her foal gone?” I say, but my voice is quiet among all the communion, and because deep down I questioned if I was right or not.

“Good, Mihaela.” Devlyn’s voice moves between my ears as the memory fades, and I realize my skull is always filled with other people’s voices. They seem to come in handy, though — at least sometimes.

As the stable’s clamor fades from my mind fully, the soft sound of water lapping against the shore pulls me back to the present. I watch the fish darting beneath the water’s surface, their movements sparking a thought.

Looking back at Zanir, I ask, a slight hint of sarcasm slipping into my voice. “Do you know how to fish?”

A vampire, or mortal vampire man, fishing…this should be interesting.