Chapter 22

22

" B ut he's a puppy! His stomach can't digest that," I complain to Mr. Foerie as he gives me a list of foods to give to Ander, our little pup.

"He is already weaned. That means he can start eating hard foods now," he says with a roll of his eyes.

"But… When PomPom was a pup, she had special puppy food that is not available here. Every time she had some chicken, her poop was soft. And it shouldn't be soft. Maybe we can make a paste and dry it? That should help, no? We could at least try and?—"

"Miss Barbara. I have tended to my fair share of animals, and they all did fine with meat and rice."

"But my PomPom?—"

"Excuse me for saying this, Miss Barbara, but that dog of yours is spoiled. I have never in my eighty years of life seen a dog more pampered, as if it were a person."

I gasp aloud, taking a step back.

"She is a person! How dare you suggest otherwise?"

He raises a brow at me, shaking his head.

"You… You…" I stammer. How could he imply that my PomPom is not a person? She is smart and caring and loyal. She is the perfect girl.

"It is quite clear we have a difference of opinions. Please see yourself out," he says, turning his back to me.

I stare at him, flabbergasted.

"You're throwing me out?" I blink.

"I believe that is what I just did," he replies drily. As he steps away from me, he mutters under his breath, "Never seen such an ignorant, empty-headed female before."

His voice was low, his words not meant for my ears. But I heard them anyway.

I blink back tears as I find my voice.

"Why are you calling me empty-headed?" I ask in a small voice. "I just want the best for my dog and I offered some suggestions. Why are you dismissing me like this?"

He stops. Half turning, he glares at me.

"And who is the one with the experience here, Miss Barbara? You asked for my advice and I gave it to you. If you choose to be obstinate, then you can do as you please and leave me alone. I never liked those dogs of yours anyway. Too spoiled," he sneers.

My mouth drops open in shock.

"But… But…"

"Leave, Miss Barbara. You are no longer welcome here."

I am so shocked, I can barely come up with a proper reply. Especially as he goes one step further and pushes me out of his shop, closing the door in my face.

My lashes flutter in disbelief, and for a few moments, I'm unable to move.

He… He kicked me out. He insulted me and my dogs and kicked me out.

I rub my eyes with the back of my hand, though the tears come unbidden.

Am I too sensitive, or was that just downright rude?

Not one to give up, I take a deep breath and stride to the kitchens. If he isn't going to help me, then I'm going to do everything myself.

More tears fall down my cheeks as I make my way through the village, and it doesn't escape me the way people whisper and speculate for the reason behind them. This might be called the Sanctuary, but who offers a sanctuary to the people inside? Maybe because it's such a small village, but every little thing becomes gossip around here. You could trip and fall in front of your house, and in a matter of minutes, the news spreads throughout the commune. It already happened to me once, and people still gossip about me being the girl with two left feet.

But then again, maybe it is because I am the only human here. To them, I am somewhat of an oddity. I have no abilities save for the healing I borrowed from Nykander. And despite the fact that most females here wish to find a good mate and start a family, they are all knowledgeable in battle and they work side by side with the men.

I try not to mind the way people stare at me as I enter the kitchens. I head straight for the pantry, putting aside a few items that I know are good for puppies—all ingredients PomPom's puppy food had contained.

Cutting them in small bits, I place them in a mortar and start grinding them to a fine paste with a pestle. It's hard work for someone with zero arm strength, but that puppy deserves the best.

Maybe you should have asked Nykander to do it for you .

Maybe. But I did not want to come across as useless—it already happens enough on a daily basis.

In the last weeks, I have embarrassed myself enough with my lack of practical skills that should make Nykander reconsider his stance on dating me. I mean, I wouldn't date myself either. Just imagine that. Two Barbis that have no idea how to survive in the world without modern technology. It would be a disaster!

Maybe Mr. Foerie had a point when he called me empty-headed and ignorant.

A sniffle erupts in the air, and I belatedly realize it's coming from me.

Damn it! Why am I crying again?

He was right that I am not very knowledgeable when it comes to a lot of things. But to imply that I would be ignorant about my babies' health is downright insulting.

"I'm not dumb," I whisper to myself. "I really am not…" Another sniffle. "I am a poop master at least," I murmur to myself, a semblance of a smile pulling at my lips. If everything fails, at least I have that. After all, I am the best at detecting when my babies are sick just by the color and consistency of their poop.

You're being silly, Barbi.

It is a skill, and one I am proud of—no matter what others might say.

In a way, I'm lucky the fates have decided I would make a good mate for Nykander, since otherwise I would probably be forever alone.

That thought makes me even more desolate.

I wipe my tears away as I focus my efforts on grinding the ingredients for the pup. PomPom no longer has milk. Ander keeps trying to latch to her nipple, but then cries when he cannot get anything to eat.

Nykander had the great idea to get some goat's milk for him, but we need to slowly transition him to solids.

After I'm done with the paste, I spread it evenly on a tray.

A loud bang makes me jump up in surprise as Nykander shows up in front of me.

He regards me with narrowed eyes.

"What happened?" he asks in a low, dangerous voice.

"Oh, why do you think something happened?" I quip in a forced cheery voice. "I was just making something for Ander. This should help him get used to solids since it's not very hard for him to chew with his little teeth and?—"

"Barbi, what happened?" He interrupts me.

"I don't know what you mean," I murmurs.

"Your eyes are red," he grits out as he takes a step toward me.

"That? It's from the onions. You know how they make you cry." I let out a small laugh. "They're strange vegetables, aren't they? I was thinking about what you told me about souls and reincarnations. Could I reincarnate into an onion? Then I would make people cry. Of course, it's sad that I would eventually get eaten, but maybe I could be a mutant onion and give them a stomachache, or maybe food poisoning. Is there such a thing as a poisonous onion?"

"Who made you cry, Barbi?" He stops me from my work, grabbing my hands in his two, much bigger ones.

"No one. I told you?—"

"And I do not believe you. Tell me. Who made you cry?"

"It was nothing, Nykander. Really. I was just being particular about Ander's food, and Mr. Foerie and I had a disagreement over it. That is all."

"What did he say to you?" He continues to probe.

"It was just a small disagreement…"

"You cried. That is not small. Tell me," he demands.

I bite my lip as I consider whether I should tell him the truth or lie. I don't want this to turn into a conflict.

"Tell me. And it better be the truth, Barbi. Do not lie to me, or I will find other ways to get the truth."

"Don't do anything, okay? It wasn't a big deal."

"Barbi?" He raises a brow.

"Fine. He said I was empty-headed and that he hated my dogs because they are too spoiled," I say, quickly looking away.

"He said you were empty-headed?"

"And ignorant," I add quietly. "Which isn't entirely false. I know I'm not the brightest..."

He stares at me, his cheek twitching.

"Stop," he suddenly demands.

I close my mouth, glancing warily at him.

"You are not ignorant, Barbi, or empty-headed. How can you believe that?"

"But—"

"I do not like you putting yourself down. It is admirable how much you love your dogs, and you should not let anyone tell you how to care for them. I do not care who they are."

My lips spread into a shy smile.

"Thank you."

"Do not fucking thank me, Barbs. This is not all right. You will not refer to yourself as ignorant again, is that clear?"

"But I am technically ignorant of a lot of things. Before we came here, I had no idea how to cook or do laundry by hand and?—"

"And you learned. You did not know, but you put in the effort to learn. No matter how many tries it took, you did it until you perfected it. There is no shame in not knowing something. Recognizing you do not know it and then putting in the work to learn it is a mark of greatness."

He straightens his back as he regards me, his words as unyielding as his countenance.

"Did you call me…great?" I ask tentatively, afraid it was just a figure of speech.

"I did. You are smart, hardworking, humble, and kind. And whoever does not recognize that can go fuck themselves," he states with great conviction.

My heart flutters in my chest.

"No one's ever called me that," I say in a small voice.

He tilts his head to the side, frowning.

"No one?"

I shake my head.

"Air-headed, ditzy, sometimes delusional. Those are the words people would use to describe me," I murmur, half ashamed.

"Who?"

"Everyone at home. My parents…"

"Your parents?" he asks in horror.

"I do not fit their idea of a perfect daughter. Mainly my mother. But she wants me to be some type of genius when I am not and I have never been," I add with a sigh.

"That is her fault for not recognizing who you are and instead forcing you to be who they want you to be."

"Thank you for saying that."

"It is not a compliment. It is merely the truth."

"Still." I smile. "It's nice to have someone say that. I was feeling pretty shitty before, but now I'm happy," I say in a bright voice.

He watches me intently, a gentle smile curving at his lips.

"Let me help you." He comes over to my aisle and helps me prepare the food for little Ander, following my instructions to a T without voicing any objection.

And as we finish the food and go out, he surprises me with more chocolate truffles.

"I do not like it when you are sad," he mentions awkwardly as we walk back to our cabin. "If anything bothers you, tell me and I will fix it for you."

"I can do it myself, too, Nykander. But I appreciate the sentiment," I tell him with a smile.

He nods and reaches for my hand, cradling it in his bigger one. Warmth spreads through me and I barely contain my glee.

This is the first time he's taken the initiative.

We reach our cabin, and for a short while, we play with the dogs before Nykander tells me to get some rest and he will take them to get some exercise. Despite wanting to disagree for the simple reason that I want to spend more time with him, I relent and go to bed.

"Nykander?" I ask before he's about to go out the door.

"Huh?" He turns toward me, his brows raised.

"Do you think…" I clear my voice, fighting the blush creeping in on my cheeks. "Would you like to sleep on the bed with me at night from now on? You've been sleeping on that hard floor for months now and I worry about your back. Even though you can heal, I'm sure it can't be that comfortable."

"Are you sure you're just worried about my back?" he asks with a knowing smile.

My eyes widen and I avert my gaze.

" Just sleeping. Don't go thinking about other stuff. But it's fine if you don't want to. More space for me anyway."

"All right," he answers in a soft voice. "I will join you on the bed from now on."

I slowly glance up at him and our eyes meet. My cheeks are flaming hot. Just picturing him in the same bed with me makes my insides melt—and sends my imagination into overdrive.

His eyes crinkle around the corners, his gaze gentle and affectionate.

My mark heats up across my heart.

"That's it. I'm going to sleep," I suddenly declare, pulling the blanket over my face.

His chuckle echoes in the cabin long before he closes the door after him, and I can't help the giddy squeak that escapes me.

Finally, we will be in close confines. And maybe that proximity might lead to something else. Something of a steamier nature…

I flail my legs under the blanket in excitement. I need to make sure I'm clean-shaven and showered and smelling nice for him before I get into bed. With a smile on my face, I drift off to sleep.

Coldness seeps in my bones. Opening my eyes, I realize I am in a dark forest, the wet grass my only cushion.

I'm on my back, staring at the gathering of trees that obstruct the view of the sky.

I jump up, fear creeping down my spine.

Where am I? Just a moment ago, I was in my bed, sleeping.

I look right and left, wondering how the hell I will get back, when I see the semblance of a light in the distance. It must be the village!

I dash toward it, only to find myself at the entrance to a cave. Light streams from inside, together with an echo of voices.

Frowning, I slow my pace as I go inside. Hopefully, I can ask for some guidance.

"Hello? I am no danger. I am lost and in need of help," I declare so that they know I am not an enemy.

No one answers me, and the deeper I go inside the cave, the light shines brighter.

I shield my eyes, blinking to get accustomed to the difference between the darkness outside and the light inside.

"My lady, she has come after the babe," a woman dressed in red mentions.

In the middle of the cave, the room is fully decorated as if it belonged in a palace. There is a king-sized bed, a vanity, and even a luxurious jacuzzi a few steps over.

On the bed, a woman dressed in a white nightdress is lying down, glancing at two newborn babies. Her blond locks obstruct her features, but she's caressing each of their faces with gentleness and love, her hands lingering on their little cheeks.

"Excuse me?" I call out when I'm in the middle of the room. Yet no one turns. It's as if I don't exist.

I go to the lady in red and wave in front of her.

"Can you please help?"

Nothing.

Her attention is focused on the lady in white.

"One more moment, Herwa. I want to commit his features to memory," the lady murmurs.

"Hello? Anyone? I am standing right here!" I call out.

Just like before, no one answers me.

I blink in shock, not knowing what to do. Am I…dead? Is that it? Am I a ghost and they can't see me? But how?

"Lispera." Herwa, the woman in red, sighs. "You do not have to do this."

I move to the side, getting a better look of Lispera. She is stunning. Her blond hair is complemented by a golden complexion, her eyes a deep brown. Her expression exudes warmth and kindness, and I immediately feel an affinity to her.

A sad smile descends upon Lispera's lips as she gazes at the two babies.

"I do. You know I do. Otherwise…" She closes her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek.

One of the babies starts crying, and she takes him in her arms, swaying him gently and murmuring sweet words in his ears—how much she loves him and how sure she is he will have the best life possible.

"I love you, my baby boy. And I cannot wait to meet you once more. Someday," she says as she lays a kiss on his nose, then on his cheeks and forehead. She keeps him tucked to her side while tears fall down her cheeks.

"You still have time to name him," Herwa mentions as she goes to the bed to pick up the boy.

Lispera shakes her head. She gazes longingly at the baby.

"His new parents will have the perfect name for him."

Herwa lingers for a moment, her expression worried as she takes in Lispera's anguished one.

"Go. Go before I change my mind and cause a disaster," Lispera calls out, averting her eyes.

Herwa nods and retreats out of the room.

When I try to follow her, I find that I cannot. The door she just used to leave will not open for me, effectively keeping me locked inside the room. A sliver of fear courses through me.

"There, my little girl," Lispera speaks again. She cradles the baby to her chest, urging her to latch onto her nipple and feed.

She hums a melody to the baby, her lips trembling with sadness. She tries to smile, but she cannot.

Suddenly, her head whips up, her eyes narrowed.

"You should not be here," she says, staring straight at me.

My lashes flutter in confusion. I take a step forward.

"You can see me?" I ask.

But my question is ignored as the door opens again and Herwa comes inside.

"What about the baby girl? Have you picked a good family for her?"

Lispera shakes her head.

"I do not know what to do, Herwa. I touch her, and I see her future. All the possible versions. If I give her up, she will die. If I keep her by my side, she will die. How can I make a decision when her fate is set in stone? I cannot send my own child to her death," she murmurs in a low, terrified voice.

"You better than anyone know that fate can be cheated, my lady," Herwa says as she takes a seat on the bed.

"No matter what family I give her to, her end will be the same. Her soul will be consumed by a demon and she will be lost to me—forever."

Herwa regards her pensively.

"You have seen the future. But what about the past?"

Lispera frowns, holding tighter onto her baby.

"What do you mean?"

Herwa takes a deep breath.

"You can see her future from this point in time. But what if?—"

"What you are suggesting is forbidden," Lispera gasps.

"Not any more forbidden than what you have already done, my lady. Shall I remind you who her father is?"

Lispera blushes, glancing away.

"It is because of who her parents are that she will be targeted. She may not be the firstborn, but she is still the daughter of a Supreme and of a half Primordial. That alone will make her a beacon for those wretched demons."

"Take away her powers," Herwa suggests. "Leave only enough to see her through hard times, but take most of her spiritual ability away from her."

Lispera bites her lip as she stares at her baby.

"You know what that does to our kind, Herwa. She will feel the emptiness her entire life."

"But she will be alive."

Lispera spends a few moments debating what to do. With a weary sigh, she places the child on the bed, then removes the cloth wrapped around the baby to reveal her naked flesh. Placing her open palm on her torso, she chants something under her breath. A stark light erupts, a ball of energy coming out from the baby. She maneuvers the energy around, wincing as she tries to control it.

"The jar, Herwa. Give me my jar," she commands.

Herwa rushes to the dresser, rummaging through a few trunks until she finds the jar in question. Grabbing it with both hands, she runs back to Lispera. Once close to the energy source, she opens the jar and Lispera pushes the energy ball inside. They both immediately snap the lid shut and Lispera uses her power to seal it.

But just as she releases a sigh of relief, her eyes go white. Her spine straightens, and she throws her head back.

Tears course down her cheeks and she cries out in anguish.

"My lady!" Herwa shakes her. "Snap out of it."

Seconds pass before Lispera's eyes regain their brown hue.

"It did not work, Herwa. We have not changed her fate at all—merely bought her some more time."

Herwa's features tighten, and she glances down at the chubby baby.

"Then the past is our only option. Depending on how far we go back, no one will know who she is, right?"

"It is worth a try." Lispera nods, bundling her baby against her chest. "Anything as long as she survives until I can meet her again."

I slowly open my eyes to find myself back at the cabin. In my bed. There is a warm body next to me, and as I peek over my shoulder, I note Nykander is fast asleep and hugging me from behind.

My lips stretch into a satisfied smile as I turn to study him.

He has such long lashes for a guy. They're longer than mine!

And his lips. They're so full and thick.

I shake myself as a blush climbs up my cheeks.

"Are you enjoying the view?" he drawls, slowly opening his eyes.

I squeak aloud as I scramble away. But just as I'm about to fall, he catches me, pulling me on top of his body and cradling me to his chest. The beats of his heart are loud and clear. I hold my breath for a moment, and our heartbeats are fully aligned.

We beat to the same rhythm.

"You are so small," he murmurs in my hair. "You fit perfectly to my side."

"Is that your way of trying to charm me, Nykander?" I raise a brow as I roll onto my belly. Still on his chest, I place my hands under my chin and watch him with a silly smile on my face.

"Is it working?"

"I don't know. Is it?" I ask mischievously.

"Hmm, what if I try this?" he muses as he leans in, brushing his lips against my forehead.

"I think you need to try more," I murmur breathlessly.

"This?" he asks, kissing my nose.

I giggle at the ticklish feeling, squirming around until I fall to the side. But he wastes no time in pulling me closer to him.

"Did you sleep well while I was gone?"

My brows furrow. Fragments of my unsettling dream come back to me.

"I had a strange dream," I mention.

"Another?"

"This one was even weirder. I was there, but no one could see me. Well, no one except this lady that said ‘You should not be here' in an outraged tone."

"What sort of dream was that, Barbi?"

"I honestly don't know." I take a deep breath. "There were two women in the dream. One was named Lispera and one Herwa."

His body freezes.

"Did you say Lispera?"

I nod. "Do you know who that is?"

"Was," he corrects, his eyes wide with shock. "She was the Aperite Supreme who sealed off Tartareia seven thousand years ago."

"But… How would I know about that?"

He shakes his head.

"Precisely. How would you know about it?"

"And Herwa?"

"I am not familiar with that name. But Lispera is infamous; or famous, depending on who you ask. She was one of the strongest if not the strongest Supreme in generations."

"Did she have kids?"

"Not that I know of. She was unmarried, and Aperites frown upon children born out of wedlock. She was betrothed to another Supreme at some point, though."

"Oh. I wonder why I would dream about her of all things."

"Maybe it is a message."

I raise my brows in question.

"Lispera was the Ananke Supreme. The High Priestess we are looking for was under her direct command."

"If there was a message in there, I'm not sure I understood it," I mutter under my breath.

"Tell me more—" he starts, but before he can finish his words, he's out of bed and looking out the window.

"Get the dogs, Barbs. We need to leave. Now."

"W-what? What are you talking about?" I mumble as I swing my legs over the bed and join him at the window.

My eyes widen in shock as I see the street leading up to the village square filling with angry people. They're coming toward us. Jeya and Elijah are at the front, their bodies humming with energy waiting to be released.

"What's happening?" I ask in confusion.

Nykander presses his lips together.

"It is my fault. I did not think they would find out so soon." He sighs. "I might have…" he trails off, his tendrils already at work to get the dogs next to us and ready to depart.

"You might have what?"

"I might have done something to Mr. Foerie," he mutters, gazing away guiltily.