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32.55% The White Moon Tribe - BL / Chapter 14: Since When Had He Been A Monster?

Chapter 14: Since When Had He Been A Monster?

"These frigging goddamn geezers!" Nyell snarled, kicking the mammoth rug in a corner of his room. "I still can't believe my ears. The shit that came out of their mouths!"

A muffled chuckle resounded behind him, and Nyell's bad temper flared up. Allen was getting on his nerves just as much as the elders.

"Get out!"

"You know I can't do that. I promised your father to watch over you tonight."

"You got eyes, don't you?" Nyell growled. "Can't you see that the sun is still up?"

"Indeed, I can't."

"You're asking for a beating."

"I honestly, truly can't see it," Allen smirked. "Everything is in shades of gray for me, and I can't differentiate between the moonlight and the sunshine. Lights are always reflected the same way: pale gray."

"…Ah."

Nyell had heard of shamans whose eyesight was devoid of colors, a side-effect of their weak physical constitution. He just hadn't expected this bastard to be among those, just like he hadn't expected Layla to be mute. What about Myrven, then? Was he deaf? No, probably not. He heard Allen call for him last night, and he came right away. He didn't seem to be reading lips either. Nyell felt like he was getting paranoid, but nothing was ordinary about these three!

"Anyway," Allen pretended not to notice Nyell's glare, "the things after your tribe have it out for your family. Sorry, but I won't let you out of my sight until we get them."

"You're too much! I can defend myself just fine, thank you." Nyell gritted his teeth. "Go join Myrven and Layla. Keep an eye on my family instead."

"No can do. It's your father who's going to kill me if I leave your side."

Nyell felt a headache coming; Allen was right. His father seemed kind at first glance, but Nyell got his nasty temper from him, so he knew better. 

"Even if I were to join my aides, I'd be nothing more than a deadweight. They're far stronger than me."

"So what? You're a walking healing elixir, so you have your usefulness." 

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment!" Nyell spat out. "If you're not going to leave, you're sleeping on the rug!"

Allen eyed the poor thing that had been tossed aside. Though it was soft to the touch, it wasn't thick enough to turn into a makeshift mattress. He would surely be sore all over by tomorrow morning if he used it.

"Why can't I use the bed? Isn't it big enough for two adults?"

"No, it isn't!"

Nyell would rather die than share his bed with Allen. He hadn't gone over his embarrassment from what he had done last night, just before the White Moon chief tribe came to find him. The smell was still lingering in his room, permeating his bed. If they were to sleep next to each other, Nyell knew his body would react again, and Allen would notice it. 

But perhaps he was worried for nothing. Anger had been clouding his mind since his meeting with the elders, so his body might not be in the mood for horniness. 

The elders had lived up to their trash title. They didn't tell them anything useful, just saying they were overreacting. Their tribe didn't do anything wrong, and the daemon was a crazy thing. It was out for blood just because it could. 

And as for Huliem, she died of illness. Why would it be otherwise? 

"Stop asking questions!"

"You're being unreasonable."

"We told you, we haven't done anything wrong."

"Go do something more useful than bother us!"

"The daemon won't surrender."

"You better find it before another person goes missing."

To put it bluntly, they avoided answering their questions, insisting that whatever they asked was inappropriate and that they shouldn't doubt their words. They had better things to do than interrogate the elders of their tribe. 

Did youngsters not know how to respect their elders nowadays? They were being rude.

If it hadn't been for Allen holding him by the wrist, Nyell would have shown these geezers just how rude he could get.

"I thought the elders in my tribe were a pain to deal with," Allen admitted, "but it seems like yours aren't any better.."

"Are you trying to comfort me? Because you're failing miserably."

Nyell let himself fall on his bed. He buried his face in his hands, wishing he could pluck the information out of the elders' mouths.

They made excuses instead of telling them whatever dark secrets they were hiding, even though the lives of their comrades were in danger. Keeping things hidden from the group that was investigating the disappearance cases was no better than killing the missing persons themselves. The elders cared more about their reputation than their people. 

Unlike what the elders said, daemons didn't attack people at random. Their tribe must have done something, but what?

"If you want," Allen smiled, "we can always invade one of the elders' dreams tonight and 'gently' interrogate them. I can even make it so that they don't remember it."

Nyell lifted his head, and a chill ran down his spine when he saw Allen's innocent, kind-looking smile. Why did this man look so pure, angelic even, when he was inwardly so black? 

But, well, the proposal did interest Nyell.

"I've been wondering, but are there things you can't do as a shaman?"

"Not really? I am the chief of a tribe mostly composed of shamans. I do have to be powerful enough to keep these unruly brats in check."

"You're not keeping them that well in check," Nyell mumbled, remembering his numerous encounters with the White Moon tribe's hunters. For a second, he couldn't help but wonder if Allen knew his people beat up kids.

"…?"

"Nothing. So, about invading one of these assholes' dreams…"

.

.

It was a desolate realm. Black trees stretched as far as the eyes could see, their naked branches rustling under the breeze. The sky was gray, and two pale moons hung in the middle, casting a pale light over the forest. 

Crows let out shrill screams as they poked at dead bodies with their beaks, some tearing apart pieces of flesh and others clawing their way inside the corpses' abdomens. They were feasting, throwing blood and bits of organs around.

There were men, but also women and children piled up together. A few had been hung onto trees, a rope around their broken necks.

Even though it was a dream, Nyell's nose was still assaulted by the heavy smell of blood. 

"What the fuck," Nyell muttered. 

"It seems like we won't even need to interrogate your elder," Allen commented with his usual lazy smile. "Guilty consciences make it easy to pry into someone's mind through their dreams. I have a hunch it's already showing us what we want to know."

The White Moon tribe's chief pointed at a man who looked to be in his forties. He was kneeling, head buried in his hands. His short black hair was a mess, while his body and his tattered clothes were covered in dirt. It felt like he clawed his way out of a grave. 

"This isn't what we wanted," he wailed. "It's not our fault. We didn't do anything wrong."

"If you didn't do anything wrong, why are you wailing?" Allen asked as he approached the elder. In real life, he looked older, well over sixty years old. Now, he looked like a man in his prime. "What did you do?"

The man, Tuppel, didn't seem to hear him, his eyes locked on Nyell. Fear crept onto his face, his pupils dilating. He lost balance and fell on his bottom.

"No, no, no, no." 

Tuppel shuttered. Panic rendered him useless, and words he'd typically keep to himself flew out. 

"You're dead! You're supposed to be dead! Hulien killed you!" He seemed to lose all his strength as he added, "What are you doing here, you monster?!"

Nyell pointed to himself, wondering what bullcrap Tuppel was spouting. Why would his mother have killed him…?

And since when had he been a monster?


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
RS_Vaesen RS_Vaesen

Edited by Clozed!!!! :D

I'll try to finish a chapter this evening so my friend can edit it tomorrow. But I erased half of what I've written so far 'cause I wasn't happy with it, so, yeah.... dunno if I'm gonna be done in time.

Thank u for readiiiing! :3

Chapter 15: Went On A Date With The Enemy

"DON'T COME NEAR ME!" Tuppel shrieked, crawling away. His voice grew small, almost sounding like a child's, as he sobbed, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Don't hurt me."

As if to mirror his disturbed mental state, cracks fissured the sky, splitting the moons in half while tremors shook the ground. Trees started to break and fall, yet the crows didn't scatter and kept poking the corpses. When a trunk smashed a few, the birds flocked around and feasted on the limbs that protruded from under the tree, not minding that some were still alive. They tore the flesh apart regardless of their cries.

"Holy shit! What's going on?!"

"Well," Allen clicked his tongue in annoyance. "It seems you scared the hell out of him, and his dream realm is collapsing. We better leave before we get caught up in the aftermath."

"What? We just arrived and didn't learn anything yet!"

"We're invaders, and when a dream realm collapses, it expulses the strangers in a not-so-kind way. We can always try again tomorrow night with another elder whose mental fortitude is stronger than Tuppel's."

Nyell was taken aback. Then, he threw a disgusted look at Tuppel. What a useless piece of trash! A string of insults passed through his mind while the man shrieked louder under his glare. Tears started to run down his cheeks, pouring like a waterfall. And even though this was a dream, it enacted bodily functions, and Tuppel peed himself. 

How pathetic! They didn't even get to the interrogation!

"I didn't know I was so ugly I made old men cry," Nyell scoffed. "Whatever. Get me out of this shitty dream."

"As you wish."

***

Allen shifted his ethereal eyes to Nyell, who looked back at him. However, the green emerald irises were gone. The white of the eyeballs had grown pitch-black, swallowing the irises and the pupils. The usual expressive face was now emotionless, his lips stretched into a thin line. 

"Hello," Allen greeted, unsurprised. "I'd like to say it's nice to meet you, but I'd be lying."

The thing blinked. "Why am I in this body? He wasn't my target." 

"I wonder why, indeed." 

Although Allen appeared calm on the surface, he had murderous thoughts–not against the thing before him but against a group of old, decrepit men. They dared to go after his destined mate, huh…

"I'm hungry."

"I bet you are. But if you eat this man's soul, I'll make your eternity a living hell."

The thing blinked again, seemingly not understanding why Allen was angry. 

"You're quite innocent for a daemon's familiar spirit," Allen said with a small chuckle. Do you mind telling me why you're going after the Black Moon tribe's people?"

"I don't know. My master wants some of them dead, but he's never happy whenever I bring someone to him. Will he be happy if I bring this one?"

"I don't think so. What happens when it doesn't want the men and women you bring it?"

"He tells me to feed on them."

"So they're already dead."

Allen let out a sigh. He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, the villagers would be alright. However, his hopes were quickly dashed.

"I need to go now, so sleep."

The thing stretched a hand to grab Allen's forehead, but the White Moon tribe's chief didn't let him do as he pleased and caught his wrist. 

"I won't allow you to leave with him. If you want to go, get out of his body and go back in your spiritual form."

"I can't do that. I have to bring someone today since I failed yesterday. My master is growing impatient."

"Sorry, kid. I don't care whether your master is happy or whether you're hungry. I won't let you take this man. He is mine, after all."

Nyell did agree to be his during his stay at the Black Moon tribe, so Allen wasn't lying. Spiritual beings were sensitive to lies, and he didn't want to anger this young thing. Honesty was the first step if he wanted to get across it without hurting Nyell in the process. 

"He is yours?" The thing frowned.

"He is."

"Hm. Both of your souls seem linked. Why?"

"Do you know what destined mates are?"

"No, I don't."

"It's something wonderful. I've been waiting to meet mine my whole life, so I cannot let you take him from me."

"But…"

"I know, you have to bring someone with you. So, how about me? Your master won't be happy with Nyell, but it may be with me."

"Why? You're not from the Black Moon tribe."

Allen smiled, his eyes soft but sorrowful.

"Because I know something it doesn't."

***

Nyell opened his eyes to an empty hut; Allen was nowhere in sight. It left him speechless. Who said he wouldn't take his eyes off of him again? 

And, let's be honest, he had half-expected the man to crawl into his bed while he slept. 

To enter someone's dream, Nyell first had to be asleep, and since Nyell wasn't a shaman, he needed Allen's guidance, meaning that they had to be physically in contact. It allowed Allen to reach his spirit through the mediums of their connected bodies. Of course, Nyell refused to let the man take him in his arms, only allowing him to hold his hand. He still forbade Allen from climbing onto his bed so the man could only sit on the ground by his bedside. It didn't mean he'd follow through during his sleep. The bastard was an opportunist.

"That guy is honestly weird," Nyell mumbled, rubbing his eyes to help him wake up. "I should be the one complying with his orders, not the other way around."

Nyell was supposed to be 'his' during his stay at the Black Moon tribe. It was their deal, yet Allen hadn't brought it up. The only thing he did was stick to him like his shadow. 

"Well, it has only been three days. Things can change."

Not like he wanted them to change. He was just surprised. The White Moon tribe's chief had asked his father to hand him over like he was nothing more than a commodity, so he hadn't expected the man to treat him like a living being. 

"Oh, whatever."

Nyell chased the thoughts away and got up, only to step on a sheet of paper. Odd. They didn't have paper in his tribe, as it cost an arm and a leg, and they usually used leaves to communicate and leather for important documents. 

Then, it must have been left by Allen.

A bad feeling twisted his bowels as Nyell bent over to take the sheet. On it was written in a cursive, elegant writing:

"Sorry, I won't be able to bring you into an elder's dream tonight. I'm now officially part of the missing persons. See you later."

Nyell didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or get angry. In the end, he opted for the latter. He screamed as he dashed outside, "Myrven, Layla! Your chief is a fucking idiot! I'll wring his neck when I get my hands on him!"

"What did he do this time?" Myrven asked, searching for Allen. Strange. He wasn't following behind his destined mate.

"He went on a date with the enemy, duh."

…Sorry, what?!


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
RS_Vaesen RS_Vaesen

Edited by Clozed!!! :3

I'm sleeeeepy. And I still have to work tomorrow, mleh. The season has started at work, and I'm gonna die ;A;

Thank u for readiiing! :3

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