Chapter 9

The new teacher

A woman with her face covered by a red veil leaned against the trunk of a massive old tree.

The woven wicker basket she had been carrying for some time suddenly moved and a child’s tiny hand emerged from the cloth that covered it. Dark eyes peered out from under the cloth, looking curiously at the cricket that sat on the woman’s shoulder, ready to grab it.

"Cut it out! Haven’t I already fed you?" the woman asked, annoyed.

The child looked at her for a second and then at the cricket which moved agitated in her hand and then shoved it into her mouth, ignoring the woman’s shout.

“You little...”

She suddenly fell silent when she heard a noise from a bush a few feet away. At first she thought it was a rabbit or some other wild animal, but then she smelled a strange and quite familiar smell that put her on her guard. She took out one of her wooden seals over which she poured a drop of her blood, only to throw it on the ground.

In just a few seconds, the seal was sunk into the ground that surrounded it, slowly taking the shape of a four-legged creature. One that resembled a wolf stood up and looked towards its mistress with its white eyes and waited for an order.

“Have fun.”

As soon as she said that, the wolf bolted, vanishing into the mass of forest trees. Within seconds, the imago returned to her mistress with a trembling fawn in its jaws. At first glance, the animal appeared normal, but the dried blood from the deep wound on its neck was old enough to realize the animal had been dead for some time. Its aura was non-existent and its body was emitting a rather dirty energy that was a sign that the animal had spirit parasites.

Her Imago bared his teeth at the deer’s throat and looked once more at its mistress, wagging his tail in eager anticipation.

“Finish it quickly.”

The imago sunk its fangs into the baby deer’s skull, instantly crushing its head. Even then, the deer’s limbs moved violently, in vain to escape. The wolf, unperturbed by the host’s sudden movements, consumed the rest of the body. But when it finally reached its throat, the wolf stopped for a second as if it sensed something.

Then the slender, long leech-like creature crawled along the neck from the wound that had rotted in an attempt to save itself but was immediately caught by the huge fangs of the imago and torn apart in less than a split second.

"You’re late," Seneca said.

The woman turned to him and removed the red veil that covered her face, as if to get a better look at him. Her almond-colored eyes had an eerie glow that Anki couldn’t mistake for anything in the world. Every time she changed her appearance, the eyes were the only ones that betrayed her as they showed her true sadistic nature, well hidden behind her fairy face. She was known as Nebula, a high-ranking night daemon who was a disciple of the goddess Meraki and a master of destructive magic arts and death magic.

“Give me a break. I just held my funeral. Let me enjoy the little freedom I have.”

“Why so soon? Are they sick of you already?”

“Too soon? It’s been almost a hundred years since I changed my skin. I have no reason to stay there. My son is already old enough to become the head of the clan.”

As soon as he had consumed the corpse, the imago turned to earth, leaving behind only the wooden tablet on which a black wolf was painted. The woman bent down to pick up the seal, at which point the child in the basket of nuts poked its head out.

When he saw her, Seneca froze for a few seconds as if he tried to figure out if he was seeing right.

“What is she doing here?”

“Oh, don’t remind me. It’s my turn to look after her. Have you forgotten already? Or are you rubbing salt on my wound now?”

“Great... If I’d known, I wouldn’t have called you.”

The two set off towards the camp, during which Seneca glanced back at the little girl hiding in the basket. Last time he had seen her was a hundred years ago, maybe more, and yet she hadn’t changed a bit. Of course, the child was anything but a human. In fact, none of the gods knew what she really was, not even the first generation.

It is assumed that Noroc, as they called her, was a death fairy over 10,000 years old, perhaps even older. The girl was found in the astral on her own by the first sun god, Miazazi, who didn’t know what she was at first. Only after she killed two people by absorbing their life energy did the gods realize the girl might be a parasitic creature from the astral. But they never knew what happened before she was found because as soon as she killed those people, the child lost her memory.

“What should I call you from now on?”

“Amara, of the Basili clan.”

“And her?”

“I haven’t thought of any names so far.”

“What about Ryna? Do you like it?”

The little girl lifted her head out from beneath the cloth again, only to look at him for a few seconds and then hide again.

Seneca was not surprised by her reaction. For as long as he had known her, he had never once heard her utter a word, and for a very long time, everyone thought she was mute. But the truth was different. The child understood what she was told, but chose not to speak.

“What are you going to do with her? I don’t want to see her in the camp. I’ve already got Mana, who’s gone crazy.”

“Already?” She asked in amazement.

“He attacked a child. You’ll know who it is when you see him there.”

Amara stopped with a serious look on her face just before she passed the magical barrier protecting the camp. She would not move until she got the answer. ‘Who is it?’

“Didn’t you say you wanted a break from family life?”

“My son didn’t tell me of any children in the family that would be sent here.”

“I don’t think he knows...”

“WHAT?”

“There’s nothing to worry about. Vlad is safe and his memories have already been erased.”

“How’s Mana? I want to see him.”

“He’s had better days...”

If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, Amara would never have believed the boy was still alive. Although his face was mostly covered, the woman could see some of the flesh on his face peeling away. His trembling body and his shallow, incessant breathing were the only thing that assured her that the boy might still be alive. Yet if they didn’t do something, Mana could have died there that night.

Mana was still chained to the tall pole that held the tent in place, and he didn’t even bother to look up at the tall woman who was analyzing him from head to toe. The chains holding him immobile were ridiculously thick for a child like him. Or so she would have thought if she hadn’t seen the small fissures of the chains around his hands. If the boy hadn’t accidentally moved his hand a little, she wouldn’t have even noticed.

Did he attempt to escape?

Her gaze fell on the small smile on Anki’s face that seemed to have noticed the same thing, but didn’t bother to mention it.

“Anki, he’s not human. Forget what he was before and take a good look at what he is now. He’s a purely instinctual being with the temperament of a hungry bear straight out of his hibernation. You can’t keep him locked up here all day without him going crazy. He has to hunt.”

“How was I supposed to know he’d do that?”

“Didn’t you grow up around them? You should know better than me since this is my first time seeing one.”

“Don’t compare a pure voratomore to a half-born. They have been bred to be docile and easy to control. He’s anything but docile. Yesterday, he was a baby rabbit that didn’t dare utter a word and today he turned into a rabid dog in less than five minutes.”

“Luckily, the wounds are superficial enough to heal quickly, so from today in a week, I'll have him as good as new.”

“Today?” Felix asked. “He can barely stand up! How on earth could he go out hunting?”

“Don't be so easy on him. His species is built to live for hundreds of years, a few burns won't kill his thirst for hunting.”