His mother's current appearance was a tad different from what Nyell remembered, and it wasn't only because she was totally see-through.
She was still wearing the clothes she died in, but her body, which had grown weak from the prolonged illness, didn't look as frail. She didn't have only skin on bones, and her beautiful violet eyes weren't sunken into their sockets. A bright light was shining in her playful gaze, making her look younger. Or maybe it was because the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes were gone. She seemed full of life, even though she was dead.
But Nyell could never mistake someone else for his mother. It was Hulien. Not in the flesh, of course, but it was still her. She was the woman who raised him, showered him with love, and taught him so much about life. Seeing her again was bringing him close to tears.
It was cruel to allow him to meet her after he bid his farewell and had come to terms with her death. He didn't know much about spirits, but he knew their reunion wouldn't last.
"Hi, mom," Nyell cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. "It's been a while."
Hulien was unsure how long it had been since her death, but she nevertheless agreed. Then, she hovered near Nyell, giving him a look-over glance before frowning.
"You lost weight, son."
"Not that much…"
In front of his mother, Nyell was like a pup. His fiery temper was nowhere to be seen, and he acted almost shy. It made Allen doubt his eyes.
This side of his destined mate was unexpected but cute.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I can't share my spiritual energy for more than a few minutes. You can't stay out of your grave for very long, either. So, could you tell him what you must tell him before your time is up?"
Hulien cocked an eyebrow, sizing up the man before her. He was the most beautiful man she had ever met. Even the prettiest women couldn't compare to his beauty.
At a glance, she could tell he was from the White Moon tribe. His long white hair and his pale skin gave him away.
It felt weird for this man to be in their memorial cave. The scene from earlier was even more bizarre: he helped the souls of her people rest at peace, guiding them to their wooden tablets with ease. The way he communicated with the dead was also impressive. He must be a powerful shaman.
"Son, who is he?"
"A bastard."
"Son…"
"The White Moon tribe's chief."
Hulien cocked an eyebrow.
"And you haven't killed him yet?"
The question wasn't out of the blue. Hulien had been busy handling the tribe's affairs, and Nyell ended up dealing with the White Moon tribe. Their hunters often ventured into their hunting territories near the mountain bridge and bullied their people. Nyell spent most of his days chasing them away or clashing with them in the shared hunting territories. The number of times she heard him curse their chief and wish death upon him…
"It's kind of complicated," Nyell grumbled. "They're the only tribe that agreed to help us handle our problem. The others all turned a deaf ear to our pleas, even though you did so much for them in your time."
"I heard about it from the other trapped souls. We had nothing else to do but talk while we were in that thing's stomach," Hulien pointed to Myur, which tilted its body as if to ask if it had done something bad. "People started to disappear from the tribe after my death, right?"
"Yes."
Sadness passed through Hulien's eyes, but she quickly hid it. Instead, she smirked at her son.
"Let's put the matter aside for a moment. You're hiding something from me, kid."
"I'm not hiding anything."
"You know, now that I'm a soul, I can 'see' things I couldn't before. A thin, red thread links your left pinky to this man's pinky." Hulien's grin grew deeper. "What does it mean, I wonder?"
"Oh?" Allen's curiosity was piqued. "You can see the thread of fate? It seems like Yuel favors your family quite a bit. What have your ancestors done to catch his eyes?"
"Beat me," Hulien shrugged. "Anyway, I haven't paid my respects yet. It is a pleasure to meet you, chief of the White Moon tribe."
"Likewise."
"You caught one hell of a man, Nye," Hulien laughed before giving him a thumbs-up. "He's a beauty, so I approve."
Nyell let out a whine. He'd wanted to keep his bond with the man a secret from his mother. But he failed all thanks to a red thread he couldn't see, even with his senses opened by Allen's spiritual energy. What was this thread of fate, anyway? He had so many questions, yet so few answers.
"I'm glad we've received your blessing," Allen said, his smile more sincere than usual. "And I'd like to continue conversing, but I can't share my spiritual energy for much longer. I also have to go. I don't want Dangu to vent his anger on your people just because I made him wait. His patience is quite limited."
"Dangu, huh…"
Sorrow and guilt stretched Hulien's lips into a taut line. "When you meet him again, can you tell him I'm sorry?"
"I can," Allen nodded, "but he'll most likely not accept your apologies."
"I know, and I don't expect it, nor do I want to be forgiven." Hulien shook her head. "I guess he's the one behind the disappearances?"
"Yes and no."
"Ahem," Nyell coughed to draw their attention to him. "Could someone explain to me what's going on? Why would you apologize, mom? And what's your relationship with that thing?"
Hulien sighed. She had brought the secret to her grave, just like she had promised. Now that she was dead, nothing was holding her back. She could freely talk.
"He was my younger brother, and I killed him with my own hands."
Nyell's heart skipped a beat. Sorry, what?
"You look a lot like him, you know?"
Nyell's brain crashed.
"Are you ok, sweetheart?"
"What do you think?" Nyell swallowed, unsure what to say and what not to say. "Of course I'm not fine! I didn't even know you had a brother, and to top it all, you're telling me you killed him?!"
"Things were complicated at the time. I didn't kill him because I wanted to! I loved my little brother just as much as I love you and Isa."
Hulien's voice broke slightly. She took a deep breath, even if she didn't need to breathe. Old habits were hard to break.
"About twenty years ago, a ceremony went awry in another tribe, and Dangu lost his mind. It was a carnage."
"…What do you mean?"
Hulien opened her mouth, ready to answer, but stopped dead in her tracks. Her body had started to crumble. Her fingertips turned into sparkling dust, followed by her hands and arms. The same process was happening to her legs.
"Mom!"
"It seems that my time is up." Hulien offered a small smile to her son. "I'm sorry. I'd have loved to talk with you longer, but my soul is too tired."
Nyell bit his lips. He glanced at Allen with undisguised hope, only for the man to shake his head. Hulien had already gone beyond her limits. She had been staying in Myur's stomach for months, resisting the erosion it put on her soul. Hulien was strong-willed, but all beings succumbed one day or another. It was a miracle she had still been clear-headed enough to engage in a conversation.
"It's time for me to go back to sleep. The dead should stay dead and not meddle with the living, something Dangu has forgotten. I can't tell you everything I wanted you to know, but let me warn you: beware of the elders. They're treacherous."
"Don't worry, mom. I never liked them and never trusted them. I'm not a naive optimist like dad."
Hulien couldn't help but chuckle. Corriel had always believed people were born good and that no one was fundamentally bad. It was a naive thought, but it had its charm.
"Take good care of your father and sister for me, will you?"
It was the second time she made this request, and like the first time, Nyell nodded.
"I love you, son."
"I love you, mom."
Only the shoulders and above were left as Hulien turned her attention to Allen. "I'm ready."
"You have to be," the shaman said matter-of-factly. "If we delay any longer, you'll disappear."
"You're quite down to earth, aren't you?" Hulien chuckled. "Take good care of my son."
"I will," Allen smiled, his eyes soft as they landed on Nyell. "That's what destined mates are made for."
The White Moon tribe's chief then guided Hulien's soul toward her memorial tablet. She closed her eyes and let herself reintegrate the table that hung just above her urn. Knowing someone would watch over her trouble-seeking son put her at ease.
Saying goodbye once was painful. Saying goodbye twice was still as painful.
Tears welled in Nyell's eyes. The reunion with his mother had been too short. He wanted to tell her so much, starting with Isa having found her so-desired destined mate and his father doing a great job as the new chief. But he'd have to convey his thoughts and feelings through prayers.
Nyell had yet to realize that Allen was still holding his hand, even though he had stopped to share his spiritual energy. It was so warm he unconsciously didn't want to let go.