By Henricus Ludolfus Ahrens
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The other half wanted to capture me so they could hand me over to Kreturus. And one crazy-ass Valefar, named Eric, wanted to kill me so he could have fun watching me die. I shivered. A tight smile spread across his lips. He didn’t like me much either. “There are two things I’d do if I were you. First, I’d realize that there is no way to escape the prophecy. You are who you are. Deal with it. And two, I’d get my soul back, so we can get the rest of that poison out of you before it kills you, and this guy Collin gets all your power.
Again, I nodded, too ashamed to speak at first. “I found him dying inside here, towards the end of the maze. I thought he wanted to tell me something, but he couldn’t speak. ” I spoke in a soft monotone, staring blanking at the painting. “I thought he wanted me to turn him Valefar—so he could tell me. But, I misunderstood…” my voice trailed off. I didn’t know what else to say. This was the first time I’d admitted my sin to anyone. I assumed he wouldn’t care. Most Valefar didn’t care about anything except themselves.
Um, that was news to me, because that was exactly what I did. I had given a piece of my soul to Collin. This kid was going to flip out if I told him. Instead I demanded, “Answer me. Who are you? ” The boy folded his arms and stared at me, equally stubborn. He didn’t like my tone, but I really didn’t care. I wasn’t apologizing for it. His expression hardened. “I saved you because I could. I assumed you wanted to avoid propelling the prophecy into motion, so I saved you. You can’t die, not like this.