This Shitty Thing

His uncle's words confirmed Nyell's worst fear: his mother hadn't died from a natural cause. It wasn't an illness that had gotten the best of her. And now, a wrenching guts feeling told him that he might have unknowingly contributed to her demise, for it was the shaman of their tribe who recommended the herbs and other concoctions he had been feeding his mother to help her get better. What if, instead of nursing her, he'd been slowly killing her? The thought was excruciating. Still, he needed to know, if only to put a closure to this agonizing feeling of incertitude.

"Tell me, what were the circumstances behind my mother's death…?"

Dangu stared at his nephew. He did not speak right away, but when he did open his mouth, he didn't gloss over what had caused her untimely demise and straight out told him:

"All of you in the tribe participated in her death, some more than others. Even if you weren't aware of what you were doing, you still killed her."

Nyell's heart sank. He remembered the ceremony they conducted under the shaman's guidance, which was supposed to ward off whatever curse that might have been afflicting Hulien. They didn't know what caused her symptoms at the time, and the disease afflicting her body was unknown to them. They tried everything to save her, but in the end, whatever they did only doomed her further. That much was clear now. 

"Why?" Nyell asked, his mouth dry. "Why did the elders do such a thing?"

"It's simple: she was growing wary of them. My death had always weighed on her mind, and she had always been wondering if erasing my existence from everyone's memory was a good choice. It seemed logical and prudent at the time, but after getting older and more experience, she started to have her doubts."

"How could erasing you from our memory be prudent?!"

"You've seen Burg's memory, haven't you?"

"Yes, and?"

"So, you know that the God of Plague blessed my soul on a whim, right?"

"And what of it?"

The lost look on his nephew's face drew an exasperated sigh out of Dangu, who then eyed Allen sitting beside his mate. He frowned ever so slightly when his gaze landed on the shaman and then let out another sigh. This man was reckless, way too reckless. 

"Allen, you explain what it means to him. I'm allowing it. And take a break from sharing your spiritual energy before your veins burst and you bleed to death, will you?"

"I can still hold on for a few minutes."

The daemon threw a stern paternal-like look at the shaman, who could only click his tongue like an annoyed child in response. Dangu had closed his mouth, and Allen knew he would not open it again until his spiritual energy was replenished. The daemon was stubborn, and nothing could change his mind once he had decided something. The shaman had figured out that much during the time they spent together. 

"Alright, alright," Allen shrugged, and the warm flow passing through his hand to his mate's stopped. It left Nyell feeling strangely empty. He was puzzled by the sudden feeling of loss and wondered why Allen had stopped sharing his spiritual energy, but before he could ask what was going on and what his uncle's words meant, Allen spoke first. "What do you know about divine blessings, Nyell?"

"Nothing much," Nyell scratched his cheek, not daring to face Lapis by his side as he knew the older man would be once again floored by his lack of knowledge. "I do know that they're extremely rare phenomena and that whoever receives a direct blessing from a god is often seen as their direct envoy. They're held in high regard and such. From what I've heard, people usually worship them just as much as they worship the gods."

"Right, worship," Allen smiled. "You see, the more a god is worshipped, the stronger they are. The same goes for their envoys. Considering that people were aware of Dangu's existence, it would have been enough to sustain his power, even in his death. And that was something the elders feared. They used the excuse that your uncle had gone mad and that if the blessing was still imbuing his soul, his spirit could very well come back from death and go on a rampage, destroying all in his wake. He'd become a calamity even your mother couldn't handle. That's also the excuse they used to seal his soul in this cave."

Unsure, Nyell eyed his uncle, who responded with a slight nod. 

"Then why didn't my mom erase the memory of her brother from her mind…? When I talked to her in the cave, she seemed to have always remembered her little brother."

"Because someone needed to watch over the canyon," Allen pointed out. "The elders tried to convince her that they could do it for her, but your mother was stubborn. It was her responsibility as the chief to watch over potential threats. However, the elders weren't too keen on the idea, reminding her repeatedly that she loved her little brother and that she may one day blurt out things about him, unable to keep shouldering the burden of that peculiar secret. So, to quell their worries, she took the oath of never disclosing her brother's existence to anyone until her death. At the time, Hulien was still young and naïve. She did not realize she was a puppet dancing in the palms of their hands. It took her years of little doubts accumulating left and right to start questioning their directives and envisage that something might be wrong with the elders. But by then, it was already too late." 

"This is messed up…"

Running his free hand in his hair, Nyell felt a deep despair he had never felt before, even after his mother's death. He couldn't believe how naïve he had been. No, he couldn't believe how naïve they had all been in the tribe. Why did they never question the elders? The answer was quite simple: they had been indoctrinated since a young age, being told repeatedly that the elders were the wisest and knew what was best for the tribe. Their kind smiles and gentle words easily fooled everyone who didn't know better. 

Still, there was one person who didn't like them much and thought they were opportunists: that had been Nyell. He was often out of the tribe to hunt for food or regulate their hunting territories. He wasn't in the tribe long enough to be brainwashed, and he could see some incongruities in the elders' words and actions. However, he didn't make much of it. He just thought they were a bit self-centered and haughty but still had the best interests in mind for the tribe. Never could he have imagined they were monsters wearing human skins.

"I understand that my mother had grown wary of them, but it didn't necessarily mean they had to get rid of her, no? What prompted them to act after all these years?"

Allen didn't answer right away, glancing at the daemon instead. He didn't receive permission to tell his mate this part of the story, so he couldn't, lest the oath took effect and crushed his heart. Even he wouldn't be able to survive with his heart turned into mush.

"That, I can't tell you for now." 

"How come?!"

"The oath."

"This shitty thing!" Nyell growled before turning his attention to Lapis, who flinched when their eyes met. Here was the solution to keep the discussion up with his uncle. "How about you make yourself useful and share your spiritual energy with me instead of your chief, huh?"

"Are you crazy?!" Lapis freaked out at the out-of-the-blue request. "I don't want my body to be ripped apart from the inside out and die, thank you!"

"Why would you die? Your chief can do it just fine!"

"My chief is your destined mate, and I'm not!" Lapis lifted his hands in the air in utter disbelief. "And even then, my chief can share his spiritual energy with you so easily and for so long only because he's the freakiest anomaly ever to be born in our tribe! Day-to-day shamans can't do that. And even when they can, only madmen would share their spiritual energy with someone else, for one small mistake can cost your partner's life and yours. Seriously, don't you ever, ever ask me to do something like that again." 

The words flew out of Lapis's mouth before he could think twice. He was too shocked by the sudden request, which had scared the hell out of him. But it didn't take long for the shaman to turn livid. The words he had spoken in a panic were settling in. Nyell often acted brutishly, but he was no fool. 

"Oh?" Nyell smiled, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. "Would you mind elaborating a bit further on the subject? What makes your chief the freakiest anomaly of your tribe, and how the heck does being his destined mate allow him to share his spiritual energy with me? You've piqued my curiosity, now."

Lapis responded with a wry laugh, trying to ignore the daggers Allen and Myrven were throwing at him. He had said too much. So, he tried to divert Nyell's attention to something else.

"Aren't we here to investigate more about Dangu and the whole situation at hand..? We still need to prepare for what's coming, too."

"If you haven't noticed yet, my uncle has shut his mouth and won't be opening it until your dear chief starts running his spiritual energy through me again. So, yeah, I think this is more important right now. Don't try to change the subject. It won't work."

Why had this man grown so interested in Allen when he had been avoiding everything related to him and destined mates until now? Seriously, why?! Lapis wanted to cry, but he had no tears to shed. He was dead, so, so dead! His chief would definitely throw him off a cliff this time, for he had put Allen into a bind. And if there was one thing his chief hated, it was being put in a tight spot.