Hi Uncle

"This place is beautiful," Lapis exclaimed in awe, his eyes darting everywhere like an excited child at a funfair. "So, so beautiful…"

The shaman repeated the same thing like a broken record. He was so stunned that he forgot all about the exhaustion dragging his body down after the hours he'd just spent hiking, and even his breathing evened out without him noticing. The scenery before his eyes was too surreal, so much so that he couldn't care less about anything else: even the burst blisters on his feet that hurt like hell were thrown at the back of his mind. Right now, nothing mattered more than etching the splendid sight into his memory.

"I didn't know such a breathtaking place could exist. All this time… How could it have laid hidden next door in the jungle's depths without our knowledge? It feels like we've stepped into another realm."

"Right?" 

A smile lingered on Nell's lips as he puffed up his chest with pride. The jungle was treacherous, and people didn't like venturing inside, but it didn't mean it wasn't home to mesmerizing things. And since the jungle was technically the Black Moon tribe's territory, Nyell felt like everything in it belonged to them, including its wonders. He felt good when it was complimented.

Nearby, Myrven didn't pay attention to the two men and wandered near the bottom of the high rocky plateau, lifting his head in the hope of seeing its edge. But he couldn't see its top, for it disappeared into the mist birthed by the numerous waterfalls sliding down from atop the plateau, creating thin water courses that gathered into a river in the middle of a natural gateway. It was eerie how straight the upper platform had been divided into half, forming two distinctive cliffs that faced each other. And right now, their group of three stood at the bottom of this enormous canyon. 

Although Isa and Layla had wanted to accompany them, Corriel had made it clear that it wasn't an option for his daughter to go, and Myrven had insisted that his colleague stay to protect the Black Moon tribe's chief and Isa, just in case. Some people had to guard the fort and keep an eye on the elders. Who knew what they would do next if they were left alone? Well, certainly nothing good.

"I have lived for a long time," Myrven admitted, "but I've never heard of this place. Are you sure Allen is here?"

"See the flowers growing on the walls?" 

As if afraid Myrven wouldn't notice them, Nyell pointed at the tiny whitish flowers blooming between cracks in the rock walls. They were discreet, almost hidden behind the mist. But when Myrven focused on them, he realized their petals shone slightly under the light as water beads covered them. They acted like mirrors and brought the sunlight from up above, down to the bottom.

"Yes, I see them. What of these?"

"They have a very peculiar smell. However, it's not the kind of scent that clings onto people and animals unless they spend a certain amount of time near the flowers."

"And I reckon that was the smell Allen carried."

"Exactly. Now, all that's left is to find your runaway chief. It shouldn't be that difficult… I mean, the crevice isn't that long. Reaching the other side should take about a week, I think?"

"A week?!" Lapis shrieked, horror flashing across his face. Not only because of how much walking it meant but also because the lunar eclipse of the two moons would long be gone by their return. If that were to happen, the ceremony his tribe had been pushing onto his chief wouldn't occur! And their tribe would continue to suffer from the devastating tides. Their coastal settlements might as well be considered gone.

"Is there a problem?" Nyell smiled knowingly.

"No, not at all…"

"Your face is awfully livid for someone who has no problems."

"You're imagining things," Lapis let out a wry laugh, "My skin is naturally as white as a sheet."

"Oh, really?"

"Sorry to interrupt," Myrven raised a hand, drawing their attention to him. "But it seems like you can put your fears to rest, Lapis. We won't need to search for them: someone has come to fetch their guests."

Nyell cocked an eyebrow before following Myrven's line of sight. What he saw then left him stunned. A man, whose appearance was almost identical to his, stood not too far from them, coldly scrutinizing the newcomers. The mist permeating the canyon seemed denser around his body as if to shroud it from mortal's eyes. He didn't say anything, yet Nyell somehow could tell he was annoyed beyond imagination by their sudden visit. Although, his annoyance didn't seem to be directed at them but at someone else.

"…" 

It was a little disconcerting, and of course, Nyell was taken aback. He had not expected to meet Dangu so soon after reaching the plateau. Thanks to this little setback, he forgot the well-mannered speech he had prepared for their meeting and directly said:

"Hi, uncle!"

And that overly familiar greeting earned him a strange smile. Nyell wasn't sure how to describe it: it wasn't friendly, but it wasn't threatening either. Warmth and coldness were intermingled, and he couldn't tell whether the daemon wanted to hug or dismember him. In fact, he wasn't even sure if Dangu himself knew what he wanted to do. Maybe a bit of both.

"Why did you take off as if the plague was after you?" A nonchalant voice resounded from behind Dangu. "I assure you: they won't make a mess out of your sanctuary. Don't you trust me?"

As an answer, Dangu rolled his eyes.

"I guess that's a no."

Allen emerged from the mist, leisurely joining the group. There was no surprise on his face, almost as if he had been awaiting their arrival. 

"So. How was the elder's dream you took a peek at?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Nyell snorted, deciding to follow along rather than lose his temper at his mate. He could always corner him later. "It was shit, and it took all I had not to kill the asshole after waking up. Although, now I guess I understand why they mistook me for Dangu," Nyell added before switching his attention to the daemon. "Are you sure you're my uncle and not my long-lost twin?"

The daemon's mouth twitched. Was there something wrong with his nephew's head? How could he talk to him like he was an old friend and not a vengeful ghost? Lapis's reaction was far more typical. The shaman hid behind Myrven, not daring to peer at the daemon. He was shaking ever so slightly as if afraid Dangu would devour him whole.

"That may be rude to ask, but why aren't you talking? Can you talk…?" Nyell tilted his head, a worried frown creasing his brow.

In Burg's dream, his uncle's tongue had been severed during the ritual. The elder said the God of Plague later healed Dangu, but Nyell doubted his words and wondered whether or not that was true. Maybe the ceremony had affected his uncle's spirit after death, and he'd become mute. After his two last blunders with his little comments, with Allen being color-blind and Layla being mute, Nyell had grown slightly paranoid about people's ability to talk, see, hear, and taste things.

"Oh, he can talk just fine," Allen chuckled, beckoning Nyell to come closer to him. "He's only keeping his mouth shut so as not to drive you crazy. Unlike shamans, you have no protection against his voice."

"Is that so," Nyell clicked his tongue, eying the hand Allen offered him. He knew what that meant: his mate wanted to channel his spiritual energy into his body as he had done in the memorial cave.

'It's going to hurt like a bitch again,' Nyell sighed but still took the hand. Yet, to his surprise, it didn't hurt this time. There was a bit of a weird tingling sensation, but it mostly felt warm and soothing.

"What the…?"

"The first time always hurts a little more," Allen smiled, and Nyell had the urge to slap his hand. He had a feeling there was an underlying teasing hiding behind these words. A bit salacious to boot.

"You omitted to tell me my nephew was your destined mate," an ethereal voice resounded in the canyon, making Nyell's body tense from head to toe.

Even with Allen's spiritual energy coursing through his body, Nyell still felt weak in the knees when hearing his uncle's voice. No doubt he would have buckled over had he been left unprotected. Thank god Dangu had been kind enough to stay silent until now. In a way, that was surprising: how come a wrathful spirit could show kindness? Nyell thought they were beings consumed by hatred.

"Did I?" Allen shrugged. "Well, maybe you're right. I may or may not have forgotten to tell you."

The daemon threw daggers at the shaman, who responded with his usual languid smile. It was like talking to a wall or punching cotton: Allen always reacted the same way. Luckily for the rest of the group, Dangu had grown used to the man's annoying behavior and didn't pursue the matter, nor did he get angry. Instead, he turned on his heels, walking back into the canyon. And just as he was about to disappear into the mist, his voice traveled to the newcomers' ears:

"Follow me."