When I no longer felt like the air that went into my lungs was a poison too vile for words, Titan let go.
It was the strangest thing he had done by that point. Sothing that threatened to make need him to nurse to good health once more.
I had left the onions in the pot. That was all I allowed myself to think about as I made my way from the Cave of Sin to the Tree of mories.
As soon as I entered, I could feel the weight of four stares on . I looked up and smiled.
I was certain that they had all read my thoughts. That they all knew what I was going through.
What did I do?
Did I contact my long-lost son, to tell him I was proud that he survived without ? That he was kind, and everything thuselah, Theanore and Marinus wanted to be?
Or maybe I went to my lovers and told them how much I loved them? That I valued them more than the tree which was giving a ho?
As selfish as that was?
No.
Because I was .
I went to the pot with the now slightly rotting onions. I needed to be stronger. Without even knowing why.
The World System’s Forum was not blocked to , for whatever reason. The dungeons of the Necromantic Union were even ordering food from on regular intervals.
So, as if Belladonna, the World System, was telling them to be nice.
I didn’t understand.
"Edda," but I wanted to. It took two to produce a child. Even if one of the parents was a nymph from a family of a nymph and a rman. "Show the family tree again."
"Sylvan," she wasn’t using any ssage screens. No, she whispered it in my ear.
"Please," I whispered back.
I saw it again. The picture of a smiling Theanore with a link to a picture of a Marinus who was one smirk away from getting his ear tugged by my Old Girl...
By my mother.
Then there was ... the clueless blonde drake.
I looked so, as if soone had sold all of my organs on the black market and the organ harvesters were going to visit any day now to collect.
Next to were two links that showed the golden color of shared children: Aron and Nate.
Under Aron was Mordred, of course. Under Nate - Mortir.
Were my two undead sons nymphs as well, I asked myself.
What was I even creating?
There was a black spot next to on the left side. Left... the place of the wife.
Under the joined link was Pan. He even looked like he was at peace.
"Edda," I knew that it wasn’t about . I was 5,000 years old. Going on 5,001.
Pan was about twenty... or thirty.
I didn’t even know how old my firstborn was. What sort of father was I?
"I want to see the mother of my firstborn," I told her, as I looked inside the pot. I had mana. Plenty of it.
It was ti to level up my skill.
The woman who was in the portrait looked like a nightmare. Straw for hair, more wrinkles than skin.
Blue eyes.
Pan’s shade of blue.
"Now, I want to see her na," I was cold. I didn’t know it at that mont, as I began to use my skill to revive the onions, so to speak, but my rage was bubbling under the surface.
Ready to erupt.
Because I had never, ever, seen this woman during my ti as thuselah’s nymph.
I heard as Edda sighed.
Belladonna...
The World System.
The mother of my child.
The woman who had taken from my soul without my permission.
"I will kill her," it was a growl. I didn’t even think about the fact that I was a victim.
I just thought about the fact that Pan, kind and gentle Pan, had to grow up with his grandparents. Who were strong enough to reign him in, should he go the way of his parents.
I was thinking about the missed first steps, sothing I had even seen with Mordred and Mortir.
I was asking myself what his first word was. His first drawing.
If it was sunny when he felt the flutter of a crush for the first ti.
thuselah might have sent my child off to the boy’s grandparents for his own safety, but it was the boy’s mother who had forced his hand!
I roared, throwing the pot with the rotting onions at the wall.
"I will tear you limb from limb!" I denounced her. I denounced the woman who had taken one of the many trees I had planted and put her poison inside of it.
Because I hoped that, even though I knew that it took two to produce a child, Pan would have been born anyway.
That he wouldn’t have been a dark nymph.
That he would have been everything I had always wanted to be.
"I will piss on your grave!"
I had Titan, I whispered to myself. I was connected to her. A connection she had attempted to hide from but could not.
"Sylvan... you and what army?" Belladonna’s voice was as ugly as she was.
She was not accepting my war declaration. No, more than that, she was sending a ssage screen to Pan.
My blood boiled in my veins.
"Fuck you, bitch!" I had never said that word out loud. "I’ll go into your darn halls myself!"
Like father, like son.
I had always had it in to beco a Forest Demon.
But unlike Pan, I was 5,000 years old. A dark nymph, a bristlecone pine tree nymph.
The strongest nymph there was.
"I’m coming to get you," I summoned Titan by my side. He was my weapon. "I declare war on you, Belladonna!"
She finally accepted. The Forum was the first thing to go.
But she could do nothing about the private ssages which the other dungeons were now sending ...
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