Immortal Tales #Wattys2020

Chapter Eight - Part Two

The conversation went long into the night, until the sun was raising up again. Helen had given them all food from their old cupboard and lit a fire for some tea. She asked questions once in a while, but she rarely had a good reply to them. The boy had already told them all he knew.

His dark brown eyes were tired, but sparkled with hope. How could he have such strong emotions? Was this the issue that the mist people were trying to fix?

But immortals do not have emotions, it was just in their nature. She and Andre had been cursed to fell in that way. Was it because of his magic?

Andre had been quite for most of the story, his beautiful face distorted in an agony that had nothing to do with physical pain.

-You said you have been in the human world for about fifty years? So we have not met before? - he asked.

The guy bit his lip, indecision burning in his chest. -No, we have never met in the human world - he stated. Somehow, Helen knew he was telling the truth.

Andre turned his head towards her. -Forgive me Hellen, but I have hidden something from you a long time ago, too ashamed of my vile actions. - he started. -I was tested in a similar way during my first hundred years in the mortal world. The mist people kept coming to me with the suspicion I was hiding something, a memory I think. I wanted to prove them wrong and brought them the baby I was asked. - his eyes full of tears. - I never knew what happened to it, but I can still hear the screams of the mother when I tore him away from her arms. -

The girl wanted to judge him for what he did, but she couldn't.

She played with the mug in her hands and inhaled the sweet perfume of the tea. -Before Guglielmo, I would have done anything they asked me to do, no questions asked. - she said in between her teeth. It angered her that anyone could bend her will the way they did, making her into a brainwashed puppy. She wanted to go back home as much as she wanted to breathe, but she wouldn't have them as her masters again.

-They don't kill the children - stated the boy. -I remember seeing a nursery during my path-changer training, I assumed they were souls that just had to be removed from history. -

Helen snorted. -No, they would have just ordered you to kill it then.

If the boy was surprised of the harshness of her statement he did not show it.

-But then why? What could they possibly do with a bunch of babies randomly picked in the population? - he wondered.

A glimpse of the baby's face appeared in Helen's eyes. His child smile, his little puffy arms pulling Andre's hair. The wild rush of emotions that the child had in his heart.

No, the mist people did not pick random children. They chose them carefully, picking the ones with as strong emotions as a mortal could have.

-The child did not feel like a mortal - said Andre, confirming her suspicions.

The immortal screamed, holding his arm tightly as if it was about to fall off. Helen and Andre's run to his aid, but there was nothing they could do. The former soldier was rolling on the ground, out of breath.

-What the hell is wrong with him?! -she cried.

Andre run to his cupboard, precarious on his legs. He found no ointment that could help him.

The soldier slowly stopped screaming, his body still shaking. Helen took his beautiful face in her hands and blew onto his face. His muscles relaxed and his eyes rolled back. She held the boy tight in her arms until his body stopped moving violently and fell into an heavy sleep. She hadn't used that kind of magic ever since Guglielmo's almost death.

Andre went to her side and held the boy's arm high.

The mark of the exile had been burned onto his skin.