Lord of the Night

Chapter 65: Invincible

Over the next three days, we kept practicing. Each day, we grew stronger, and Isalio got better at controlling the exchange. He had always been able to steal lifeforce without physical contact, but he learned how to do it in a more restrained manner, and on the third day, he managed to send me lifeforce without touching me.

However, I was never sure it was enough, and the effort drained me. By the end of each day, I lacked the words or energy to address his clear discomfort. Each night, I fell asleep staring at the ceiling while he faced away from me. Was he just exhausted from the effort, or was something else upsetting him? The question crossed my mind frequently, but I was too emotionally depleted to investigate, and I didn't want to slow down our progress.

Meanwhile, tensions at the Mantle mounted higher. Even without the clear mistrust between our groups, the grim facts were impossible to deny: the food was running out, the scavenging group from the Mantle still hadn't returned, and no one could conjure a magic plan to defeat our much stronger enemies.

When Fraschkit asked for a report on how the practice was going, I gave the truth: it was going well, but not well enough. With our enhanced powers, Isalio and I could take down many Demons, but not the whole palace, and definitely not the Morgabeast.

On our fourth day of training together, Isalio took off his cuff, but then stopped, turning over the cuff in his hands instead of approaching me. "Remgar...is this working, or not?"

"It's making us stronger," I said, trying to sound more convinced than I felt.

"We're amped up on lifeforce, yes. But even with all the lifeforce we can hold, do you really think we can beat the Morgabeast?"

"Maybe if we keep trying, something different will happen."

"Something different, like what?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. My father just said we could only defeat the beast together."

"Have you asked him again since? Maybe he remembers something else."

If only. I had been eating breakfast with my father every morning since his seizure, and while he now seemed more mentally stable than he had in years, he had no more information to contribute.

"He doesn't remember the prophecy at all anymore," I admitted.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "So he still thinks you should kill me?"

"Actually, no. I guess he still has some of his gut feelings from his prophecy, even if the details are gone. He remembers that we need you."

He dropped his hand with an exhale. "Need me for what, though? I don't understand what I'm trying to accomplish here, other than not killing you."

I hesitated. I also had no idea what we were trying to do, or how to know when we had succeeded. We needed to do something more, I thought, but I wasn't sure what 'more' entailed.

"You could try shifting while taking my lifeforce," I suggested. "If nothing else, maybe my lifeforce can heal your wings."

He gritted his teeth. "You can't fucking heal my wings. Nothing can."

His vehemence shocked me into silence for a second—but only for a second. "But how can you be so sure? If we just try—"

"If we try, then I'll kill you." Seeing my face, he blew a pained exhale. "I've only been able to avoid hurting you during this lifeforce exchange because I've managed to stop myself from shifting. If I shift now, in this state..."

"In what state?"

"Rem, I'm exhausted. I've got a whole lot of lifeforce right now, but not much else."