[Chapter 1] ᛜ ζ ᛜ My Godfather, Death
This is Part 4 of Mistwolf.
Should you be unfamiliar with the previous volumes, I recommend reading at least the first installment beforehand, as the events flow into one another and the characters are introduced in ‘Mist Wolf’ and the two subsequent parts.
Part 1 — Mistwolf
Part 2 — Emerald Heart
Part 3 — Fire Flood
This book series was the very first work I ever wrote, which is why I am leaving the imperfect phrasing in volumes 1 and 2 exactly as it is. I hope it doesn’t take away from your reading pleasure. If it does, please remember that for me, it serves as a documentation of my writing journey. While the first book, Mistwolf, is still a bit clunky, my more recent books have already ‘grown.’ Forgive me for leaving these books as they are here. It shows me just how far I have come.
Naera
Only just had I recognized Taitos as my mate, and now I was already losing him. Typhus, a mistwalker, a blood mage, tore him from me. He ripped out his heart and fled through a portal.
He wanted my magic for himself.
He failed.
I cannot yet control my mist powers, but they guided me into the Otherworld when I chose to remain with my mate’s corpse instead of pursuing Typhus.
I will take it all back. My birthright and my happiness.
For death is my godfather. In my hour of greatest need, Thanatos, the god of the underworld, ruler of the mistlands, sent me his servant. Corvis. A black-feathered bird and loyal guide who has accompanied me until now, aiding me with the sight of memory. Even into the mistworld itself. The veils of the afterlife. From which I will free Hares and bring him back with me.
“Life has a few more days left.”
Brigitte Nave
The mist gate rises from the billowing plain like a promise.
How I found it again is a mystery to me. All that matters is that it is there. Right in front of me. I look back over my shoulder at Thanatos, whose skin turns translucent for the blink of an eye, casting the skull beneath as a living shadow upon his face.
And yet, he smiles. Nothing more.
I must hasten. Those who linger too long in the realm of death become a part of it, losing themselves and their desires within the gentle expanses of peaceful eternity.
I urge Taitos’ soul along with me. His skin beneath mine is neither cool nor warm. It simply is. And that is not unsettling. Because my inner self knows that in this strange place, it is meant to be so. His body is not made of life like mine. And yet, his contours are the same as they have always been.
We have only a few steps left to cross back into the earthen world.
With all my strength and the sensation of urgency clawing at my neck, I tug at his arm and stumble forward with him. With an uncharacteristically indulgent gaze and a blissful smile upon his lips, he allows himself to be led by me, even though the muscle-bound wolf shifter does not seem to grasp the reason for my agitation.
The gate is now within arm’s reach. It possesses no lock. No handle. There is only a grey nothingness around us, constantly shifting its form. Marble pillars turn to roots, and roots to pillars. My heart skips a beat as I maneuver both of us into the mist-wreathed archway. Back into the world of the living. This is it. The path. It feels right. The pull upon the soul as we transition from one world to the other. It feels like stepping through a waterfall. The cold. The brief but brutal breathlessness before the warmth of the world calls to the heart and finally strikes the consciousness.
Just a moment ago, Taitos’ hand lay firmly in mine. A deep breath later, he slips away from me.
Everything is too bright. My eyelids are heavy as lead when I snap them open. I look down at my own blood-crusted fingers and remember. Gaelan. The curse within him. I banished the darkness inside him. But at what cost?
A piercing pain shoots through my abdomen. Hot. Relentless. The metallic scent overwhelms my senses as a warm torrent blooms anew down there. Delicate, inner warmth clashes with frosty reality. As if I had never been gone. I look down at myself and can see the wound my guardian struck me with in his madness, using his claws. But it does not close. It burns. Burns through my entrails. I grit my teeth, suppressing the whimper.
Taitos.
I look at the motionless form of my mate before me. One hand pressed against my stomach, I bend over him. His black hair is nearly shoulder-length and clings to his face. I brush a strand aside and look at the gaping wound in his chest. It remains unchanged.
Did I dream it all, and was never in the mists?
A breath of air against my neck. A gentle stirring in the unmoving silence makes me shiver. He is here. His eyelids are closed, and I place my hands upon his chest, as if by touch alone I could somehow undo what was done. I close my eyes, humming the song once more, letting the words echo within me while a warm tingling flows through my fingers.
Hot tears spill over my cheeks as the melody fills me, enveloping us.
*
When the moon is at its peak,
And power fills my hands so sleek,
Body and soul in firm embrace,
The mist will find its destined place.
What’s broken, still shall rise anew,
Mother Moon will not forget you.
What’s lost can always come again,
It may consume the soul with pain.
Listen close to your own heart,
Do not take too much of world’s dark art.
Thus, you’ll shine in her bright glow,
And weave your magic in the mist’s flow.
*
His skin and my hands melt together in my perception. In this moment, there is no him and I. There are only the mists and a ‘we’ within them.
A strange, almost painful warmth explodes in my chest and shoots like liquid silver through my veins, straight into my palms. It begins to prickle — first like a thousand fine needles upon the skin, then like a wild, untamed thunderstorm discharging between us. The heat creeps into Taitos’ cold corpse, filling the empty space where his heart should beat. Where it still lies even now.
The mist around us thickens, beginning to glow in time with my racing pulse, shining with a soft, bright light that shields us completely from the harsh reality. Every breath of mine pumps this hot, tingling life into him, until my fingertips vibrate with energy and the air around us shimmers with heat.
The song fades, and I do not dare to open my eyes, sensing only the sparse light of day filtering in to us through the cracks in the walls.
I hear footsteps and a distant voice.
Still, my eyelids remain closed. A gnawing dread claws at my heart as reality pours over me once more, and my body and perception detach from Taitos’ form. The magical tingling slowly ebbs away, leaving behind a trembling emptiness. My hand continues to rest upon his chest, right where the wellspring of his life was torn from him. If I were to pull it away, the illusion that I brought him out of the mists might shatter. That he lives again. That he belongs to me. I hold fast to my vision of a future with him, to an image of the family we could have had.
A vision, a wish.
The voice beside me grows louder. Much louder. And clearer.
“Naera!” Nyk’s voice breaks, but there is no panic, only raw, reverent awe. “Thank you, great gods, thank you! What a miracle...”
As my body gives way under the weight of my own wound and I threaten to topple sideways, his strong arms are instantly there. He catches me gently, supporting me and holding me upright, while his own body trembles with relief. “For weeks, the two of you lay here as if petrified. Dead. And now...” His voice fails, choked with emotion.
“Hmmm ... ?” is all I can manage.
I whimper.
My mind clings frantically to the fear that Taitos’ soul did not find its way back after all. But beneath my fingers, the miracle happens. The rigidity in his skin gives way. It grows warmer. Begins to move ever so subtly. Flesh finds flesh, binding what belongs together. I feel life crawling back into him.
A beat.
A dull, hesitant rhythm beneath my palms. His heart! Now I can not only hear it, I can feel it. What’s broken, still shall rise anew... What’s lost can always come again... It is true. He is back.
With a sob of sheer relief — and to Nyk’s absolute horror — I weep aloud. When I open my eyes, my vision blurs into a thick veil of tears, but I see it clearly. Taitos’ chest rises and falls discernibly. The first breath in an eternity.
It seems impossible. And yet, it is true.
A wild tingling ignites at the places where I touch him. It increases rapidly, discharging in tiny, electric lightning strikes upon my skin. It is so intense that it almost pains me to see his eyes still closed. I want to see his ice-blue gaze. Whether angry, confused, or full of hatred — he just needs to be here. With me.
Suddenly, the magical warmth vanishes completely. The tingling ceases, leaving my hands shaking as the stark reality of the corridor catches up to me once more.
Nyk continues to hold me tightly in his arms, squeezing gently to give me support, while his gaze rests upon Hares in utter astonishment. “Hush, Naera,” he whispers to me, his voice cracked, as he brushes a sweat-damp strand of my white hair from my face. “I am with you. You are safe.” He feels my strength waning, my body trembling under the weight of the unhealed wound. Carefully, he cradles my head against his shoulder, while placing a protective hand upon Taitos’ painstakingly breathing chest.
Then, Nyk raises his head. The reverent silence of the corridor is shattered by his shout — loud, urgent, and filled with hope. He is calling for Dain.
Instantly, my awakened senses react. A heavy, distinct scent pierces through the thick veil of tears into my nose, momentarily dispelling the metallic note of my own blood. It smells of damp earth, deep forest, and the wild, untamed presence of a wolf shifter. Dain is already nearby. He has heard the call.
“Hold on,” Nyk murmurs softly, and his voice is the only thing keeping me anchored to reality. “Help is here. We are bringing you to safety.”
