The woman's previous sardonic expression had softened considerably, and she was now staring at Allen with a hint of respect and something akin to awe. Still, it was too early to rejoice, as the White Moon Lord could be lying through his teeth, and a shadow of suspicion veiled her eyes, darkening her gaze. In the end, the third option could be nothing more than a sweet illusion to lull her into obedience, for bearers like her were relatively rare.
But that thought was quickly shattered to pieces the moment Layla let go of Nyell's hand to jump on Allen's back, happily rubbing her face against his cheek. Her joy couldn't be any more palpable. Because of the girl's lack of tongue and the prowess she had shown them over the past few days, the woman had a strong hunch that Layla was most likely one of these beings forced into the world against their will. Even so, she seemed awfully close to Allen, and the White Moon Lord indulged her like a father would with his daughter. It was hard to keep her guard up at the sight, as it was nothing like how her abductors treated the children born out of her and the other women's wombs. No, Allen deeply cared for the girl, and in a corner of her mind, she already knew he had come to help her only out of consideration for Layla.
"However, there's one more thing you have to consider," Allen started, shifting his body slightly so that he could ruffle Layla's hair and pat her head. It was a habit he fell into the moment they were out of the elders' sight, which only reinforced the image the woman had of their paternal-like relationship, even though Allen didn't seem that much older. "The treatment will require you to stay in the White Moon tribe for the time of your pregnancy, and I ask of you that you keep what you will see and hear quiet. If people ask you what the treatment is, you'll need to lie and tell them I'm using a concoction you know nothing of. And that even with my care, you're not doing so well and are bedbound. Can you do that?"
"Yes, of course," the woman nodded. If the treatment truly worked, it probably wasn't something Allen wanted the world to know about, especially not these monsters in human skin. Or else, their atrocities might get worse, and their experiments, grueler. "I might not be mute, but I know how to hold my tongue."
"That's reassuring to hear," Allen smiled gently before pulling down his sleeve, revealing his pale-white wrist and the many scars blemishing it. He didn't hesitate a moment before slashing it open with his nail and bringing it to the woman's mouth, watching as the blood dripped on her lips. "Drink it."
An astonished, if not horrified, look flashed across her face, but just as she was about to push Allen's wrist away, she caught a glimpse of Layla's nodding, a bright, encouraging smile on her lips. Meanwhile, neither Myrven nor Nyell seemed particularly surprised, although Nyell was frowning, eyeing Allen with worry. It cued her that the shaman was putting himself at risk with this little stunt of his. For what reason? She wasn't sure. What would ingesting his blood do to her? She might as well find out, for she had nothing left to lose. So, she opened her mouth and let the blood roll onto her tongue.
The effect was immediate. She felt a searing pain in her stomach, but a warm sensation quickly subdued it. In a mere instant, her complexion turned better, and the ashen hue of her skin disappeared, returning to its pristine color. When she lifted her hand to touch her face, her cheeks seemed fuller, and her eyes less sunken.
"What…?"
"Oh my," Allen cocked an eyebrow, a somehow amused but annoyed grin curling up the corner of his lips, "it looks like my affinity with it is pretty high, and it responds quite well to my blood. Maybe the treatment won't be as painful as I had first thought. Aren't you a lucky one?"
To these words, Layla's eyes grew wider. Then, she made a pout, eyeing the woman's stomach with what seemed to be childish jealousy, as if the growing baby in her womb could become a threat to her in some way. It left her speechless, and she couldn't help looking back and forth between the shaman and Layla, unsaid words lingering at the tip of her tongue. She didn't dare ask, only patting her son's back in comfort after he pounced on her in a protective manner, glaring at Layla. Only then did she seem to realize what she had been doing, and Layla lowered her head, still pinching her lips like a petulant child. It ultimately drew a chuckle out of Allen, who kissed her temple, saying:
"Oh, sweetie, even if it turns out this kid is related to me in some ways, you won't lose your place. Didn't I tell you that a family isn't defined by blood, but by the relationships connecting their members, or did you think I was lying? Hm? Oh my, and here I thought you wanted Nyell to be part of our family, even though you're not related by blood… Was I wrong? You didn't want him to be your second dad?"
Layla seemed to pause a second to think before a look of horror flashed acros her face. She shook her head and tightened her grip around Allen's shoulders, her hug turning almost into a deadly trap. As best as she could, she then mouthed a sorry to the woman, who could only answer with an awkward smile. Although wary, she still managed to look at the White Moon Lord and speak up:
"You, could it be…?"
"Hm?" Allen smiled before standing up. He glanced over his shoulder to Nyell, whose face had grown dark. It looked like they would need to talk after returning home: there would be no way out today. So, he might as well start the ball rolling early and give him something to think about on the way back. "Let's just say that my parents didn't see fit to cut my tongue. I'll be back in a week, unless something happens to you in the meantime. You will need to regularly drink my blood to offset the aftereffects caused by that growing child. Oh, right. What's your name?"
"...Nuye."
"Well, Nuye, it was nice meeting you."
***
Allen obediently sat on the couch, an amiable smile lingering on his lips. Meanwhile, Nyell was pacing back and forth in the living room, biting his thumb. He might not be the most knowledgeable man out there, but he wasn't dumb. Things that had appeared strange and unconnected now seemed to weave together to form a coherent pattern, although he hoped he was reading too much into it. Hopefully, he was wrong. If not… He shuddered at the thought. But it'd explain why Allen was such a powerful shaman and a mighty warrior at the same time. Still, the prospect was a frightening thought nonetheless. Because many things didn't add up, too, or he might simply not possess the knowledge required to figure them out.
"If you keep circling like this," Allen chuckled, "You're going to give us a headache. The children are already complaining of dizziness."
As an answer, Nyell glared at his fated mate. Neither Myrven nor Dangu dared to say anything, and Layla was obediently sipping on a bowl of soup. He couldn't see the children, as these two little ghosts didn't possess the ability to manifest themselves. Still, they were there, and he knew it. Everyone was there. Whatever talk they had to do included everyone here, even his uncle.
"So," Nyell took a deep breath, finally settling down. He stood before the group, his arms crossed before his chest. A stiff smile stretched his lips as he said, "I hope you've changed your mind since the last time I tried to have this conversation with you."
"Oh my, you truly recognize me as your mate now, don't you?"
"Yes, I do! Now tell me."
"Hm, could I be dreaming awake?" The shaman tapped his lips with his index finger, steadily and a bit mockingly. "Or maybe I've grown old and my ears are playing tricks on me."
"Allen!" Nyell snapped, annoyed beyond belief. Even if he knew he deserved the jab for the unruly behavior he'd shown in his tribe, it still exasperated the hell out of him. If he could, he'd go back in time and tell his self from a few weeks ago to shut his trap and obediently nod instead of barking back nonsense. Not like he'd listen…
At any rate, Allen did tell him that he might change his mind and answer his queries if he became his mate. It was an exchange they had back when Nyell had first seen the shaman's blood in action and watched Layla's wounds heal at a speed visible to the naked eye after his uncle's daggers had hacked her back to shreds. Now, he'd met the requirement, and he wanted to know, especially if he were to endorse the role of a second dad to Layla. He needed to be aware of the important stuff, just so he could be of help if the need arose like a proper parent.
But silence remained. No one spoke first, and only the sound of Layla emptying her soup echoed. Once she was done, she licked her lips and trotted to Allen to tug on his sleeve. After he lowered his head to look at her, she nodded: she had given her consent. Whatever conversation they were about to have, a part of it concerned her, and her opinion mattered.
"It's nothing glorious," Allen sighed, wiping off the soup Layla had splattered on her cheek with his thumb. "By now, you must have realized what the women you rescued on the ship were smuggled for, haven't you?"
To this, Nyell solemnly nodded. They were used as wombs to bear beings that shouldn't be brought into this world, from what he had gathered. He didn't know how, and he wasn't sure he wanted to learn about the details of that part. It was sure to give him nightmares.
"Well, Layla was born from this kind of trafficking, and she spent her early childhood in that hellhole. I thought I had wiped out all the ringleaders when I found her, but it seems like not all of these fools left enough traces behind for me to track them, and some managed to escape and bide their time. They still haven't gotten the message that their endeavor is fruitless, and the sins they commit will never bring them the glory they're expecting."
Allen sighed, allegedly pausing to get his story straight.
"Usually, most women die and rarely give birth. You noticed that there weren't many children, right? I believe they're the few who managed to survive among the hundred experiments they did. Mortal bodies aren't meant to bear divine essence, and it usually shreds the mother to pieces from the inside out as the fetus grows. It sucks up too many nutrients, and it radiates too much spiritual energy, which is often incompatible with the mother. And for the few mothers who do manage to bring their pregnancy to term, they generally die during childbirth. In that sense, it's a miracle Nuye is still alive and bearing a second child."
"Nothing adds up!" Nyell gritted his teeth, infuriated. "If they want these children so much, why are they mistreating them?! They were almost all bones and skin! And the women, too! Shouldn't they do their best to keep them in their best health? They're just endangering the babies! The heck is wrong with them?"
"Nyell, you shouldn't try to make sense of fools who go beyond immoral to gain what they want," Myrven shook his head. "They do not value their lives and do not care if they survive, even more so when they consider the kids to be failures. Procuring more samples is a simple matter, especially if they have access to the slave market from outside. If they didn't have to come to our land to impregnate the mothers, they wouldn't take the risk and would conduct their business elsewhere. I believe they've been trying to keep their experiments in another land, too, but it has a bad effect on the children, rendering them sick, since the divine essence they use takes its strength from our island and our border of the sea. It's probably the only reason why they have brought them back to the White Moon land, to begin with. Although it seems they miscalculated and their ship was caught in the wave when they sent it away."
"Miscalculated?"
"I might or might not have helped with that," Dangu shrugged.
"Right," Nyell mouth's twitched. "I do have an idea of what they're trying to do. Miell did teach me a lot about your land's lore and folklore. If I'm not wrong, Allen, your parents, they…"
Nyell couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence, and the lump in his throat grew heavier when he met Allen's gaze. Somehow, he could feel the loneliness in their depths, and it broke his heart. If his hunch was correct, then this was too cruel.
"Do you want to hear my story?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright… Where should I begin then?"
Allen closed his eyes, as if he was getting lost in memory lane, and oh, did he have many memories to go through: too many lifetimes to revisit, and too few words to describe his life as a whole. So, where should he begin his story? Perhaps from the beginning of this life, the one in which he was called 'Allen'. Yes, this sounded like a good start, and so he opened his mouth to tell Nyell his deepest secret. And accessorily, the secret behind the White Moon tribe's prosperity.