Nyell sucked in a deep breath, unsure where to look at. Only after Allen paused and grew silent did he dare to open his mouth to speak, but no words came out. What could he even say? Everything Allen had just told him was too overwhelming for him to process; every fiber of his being refused to acknowledge what he had just heard. At one point, it seemed like his ears started ringing, and Allen's words became distorted. Yet, somehow, he got the gist of what was said, and he knew the story wasn't finished.
One lone elder and a few cronies couldn't possibly have orchestrated everything on their own, meaning that after rescuing Layla, Allen had to, of course, hunt down everyone else who had been involved and do a thorough cleaning. Although considering the current situation, it seemed like some vipers had managed to slip through the cracks, and the experiment was never entirely put on hold. It was comical as, according to Miell, dozens of elders and high shamans disappeared overnight over a decade ago, only a few months before the chosen one appeared. It was a rumored event, especially because of its timing, that the beastman had felt obliged to mention to Nyell when he taught him the recent history of the White Moon tribe, among other things. This mystery had never been solved despite years of investigation. It was still brought up in conversation to this day, even though the fear caused by the incident had long passed, and only a morbid curiosity remained.
'I guess now, I know who was behind that,' Nyell silently scoffed. 'The timeline matches, too.'
But then, how many of the hearsays and legends Miell had recounted to him about the White Moon tribe's past chiefs were founded in reality, and not the result of people's overactive imagination and distortion of facts through a vague memory of history? He could ask: he had the object of said rumors in front of him. It was an easy task, yet he couldn't muster the courage to do so. Because if he did, it would be admitting that everything Allen had just said was true, starting with his birth centuries ago. Even though Nyell had a hunch about it, thanks to the glaring clues, it was still a hard pill to swallow. Could he accept that his fated mate was, in fact, an old soul, half mortal and half divine? He didn't know.
"Nyell, are you alright?" Allen asked with a gentle smile, and it felt like a bucket of cold water was poured over his head, chilling him to the bone. Suddenly, Nyell wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Shouldn't he be the one asking if he was alright? Allen hadn't exactly brought up the happiest memories, yet he was still more worried about him than himself. "You seem a little unwell. Do you need to lie in bed and rest a bit? It might be wise, as we have the festivities to attend tonight…"
"No, I'm fine," Nyell shook his head, cutting him short. For once that Allen was talking, he certainly wouldn't miss the chance to listen. Who knew when he would feel like opening his mouth again. "I'm just trying to process everything you've said. Honestly, I'm kinda stuck at the beginning and wondering whether I should call you Allen or Ialleion. It's hard to say which one is proper now."
"Hm?" the shaman cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "You believe me?"
"Well, duh!" Nyell rolled his eyes.
If Allen was truly the reincarnation of the first chief, Ialleion, and had been guiding his tribe since its founding, it explained a lot. Like, a lot. His abnormal constitution, for starters, his ability to make oaths to heaven without even needing a ceremony, and Myrven's unbreakable loyalty, which should have been directed only toward his master, and certainly not some mere mortal. As for his blood, Nyell had a hunch it didn't actually hold any proper healing properties. It was an elixir reserved for those who possessed a divine essence, like him or Layla, or were carrying such a being in their wombs. Something along these lines, probably. Which meant all these scars on his forearms… They were most likely for Layla.
No, stop thinking.
"Anyway, you didn't answer my question."
Although Nyell tried to appear undisturbed, he obviously wasn't. However, no one pointed it out. Allen played along instead, aware that Nyell needed some light conversation so that he could let the information sink in. He might as well entertain him.
"Allen is fine," he shrugged. "I'm not particularly attached to the name my parents gave me. In all honesty, I would rather not hear that name come out of your mouth. It pains me a little."
"Huh?" Nyell tilted his head, frowning slightly. The sorrow in Allen's eyes, which he had tried to hide behind a smile, was gripping, and his heart faltered a little at the sight. Before Nyell could think twice, he heard himself ask, "Why?"
But Allen didn't answer, deepening his smile instead. It was Dangu who ultimately decided to break the silence. An exasperated sigh escaped him, and he looked at his nephew with what seemed to be a hint of pity. It took him aback, for Nyell had yet to see such emotion in his uncle's eyes. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but Dangu didn't allow him, speaking first. His low, oppressive voice carried an unusual softness that made Nyell hesitate to probe further – although that hesitation wouldn't last long.
"Ignorance is bliss," Dangu said. "It's better for you not to know."
"That's for me to decide," Nyell half-gulped, half-sneered, clenching his fists. "If it concerns my mate, shouldn't I know? Or should I pretend to be dumb and not notice the pain in his eyes? Mates are supposed to share each other's burdens and be there for their partners, be it for the worse or the best. Otherwise, what's the point of even having a mate?"
"He really considers you to be his mate now, doesn't he?" Dangu asked Allen with a somewhat dubious tone, pointing at his nephew with his thumb. The shaman responded with a slight shrug of his shoulders, neither denying nor confirming it. "Strange. I thought he hated your guts… What's gotten into him?"
"Don't pretend I'm not here," Nyell clicked his tongue, even if he was fully aware of how odd his sudden change in behavior must have appeared from a third point of view. Not like he cared, though. "And don't try to change the subject. It won't work."
Silence abruptly swallowed the room. Dangu knew his nephew had his mother's stubbornness, and once Hulien had made up her mind, nothing could divert her from her goal. Nyell was just the same. He eyed Allen, who responded by heaving a deep sigh. Perhaps he had said too much, and now that Nyell was cued in, it was impossible to hide it. In any case, it wasn't as if that was a well-guarded secret, and it wasn't something the heavenly realm would be angry about if he shared it. Actually, it was even common knowledge back in the days; it only got forgotten over time. He might as well twist the knife and open the wound once and for all. Otherwise, they would never get this over with. So, Allen started the ball rolling, asking with a cryptic look in his eyes:
"Do you know what fated mates are?"
The question took Nyell aback. Unsure, he carefully said, "Yeah? I mean, everyone knows that fated mates are people who are meant for each other, fated at birth to be together by the God of Fate. Although whether they met throughout their lives or not is another story. Why?"
"That's the common belief, yes," Allen nodded. "But what if I were to tell you that it's not exactly right? Yuel does have a part to play in fated mates, but he's not endorsing the role you think he is. It's a little more complex than that. I might not have told you the whole story the last time we brought up the subject in Dangu's cave, and I might also have tweaked a few things to fit the narrative…"
"Allen," Nyell interrupted him. "Stop beating around the bush and just tell me already. It's not like you to thread so carefully."
The reminder stunned the shaman. Right. It wasn't his style to sugarcoat things. But somehow, it was hard to bring himself to speak up. Was he afraid of Nyell's reaction? Maybe. Now that he had warmed up to him, he feared he'd turn back to his hateful way and give him the cold shoulder again. It wasn't something his heart could bear, not when he had been waiting for him for so long. He was about to falter when Myrven gently nudged him with his elbow, as if to encourage him.
'What am I even doing?' he laughed at himself. 'In the worst-case scenario, I can always woo him again. It might just be a little harder.'
"Fine, fine, I get it," Allen gave up. "Just listen and don't get angry until I'm done talking, alright?"
"Oh, wow, great start."
"Nyell…"
"I know, I'll keep quiet until you're done," Nyell raised his hands in exasperation. Anyway, it couldn't be any more preposterous than what he had already heard, could it be now? "Oh, come on, don't give me that look! I swear I will."
Although Allen eyed his fated mate with suspicion, he nevertheless stopped delaying and finally tackled the concept of fated mates head-on, ready to debunk everything Nyell knew about it.
"Yuel is often referred to as the God of Fate, but even if destiny does fall under his jurisdiction, it's not his main duty to take care of it. What he primarily rules over is reincarnation. He oversees the cycle of souls. For those who wish to rest, he sends them to the afterlife, and for those who desire to remain in the mortal realm, he sends them on the path of reincarnation, always depending on the sins a soul carries. He ensures that the cycle between new and old souls is well-balanced."
Nyell made a puzzled face, and Allen thus graciously paused before saying, "I won't go into details because I don't think you really care about that, and it's not exactly important for us right now anyway. The one thing worth noting is that, typically, a soul is wiped clean of its memories and emotions before reincarnation, so it's essentially a blank slate and starts anew as a completely different person. In my case, it doesn't work because of my father's blood. My body is still mortal, and I still die like any other living being, but my soul is more tuned toward immortality, and it retains its memories. Thankfully, I don't wake up when I've just been born because that would be torture. I usually get my memories back when I'm about to reach adulthood and my spiritual energy starts to circulate more fluidly throughout my body. To put it bluntly, when my body is mature enough to support the stupidly high amount of spiritual energy I have, it triggers something in me, and I just remember everything. I can't explain it better, sorry."
"Don't worry, I got the gist of it. I think?"
"Good," Allen smiled before pinching his lips discreetly. Now was the part he didn't want to address. "So, with that out of the way, let's talk about fated mates. It's actually quite simple, because, you see, fated mates are essentially the reincarnation of past lovers who meet again. Of course, not all lovers will become fated mates in their next lives, if they're even reincarnated in the same timeline, but those who shared a very deep bond will. Despite the memory wiping before the reincarnation, their souls will still resonate with each other if they meet again. Moreover, in their next lives, their bodies tend to be more attuned to their past lovers, especially for shamans. In reality, you're not limited to only one fated mate, and if you lived through many reincarnations, you can have many. But usually, it's only one, as such bonds are not common. They're difficult to form, especially since they develop over time without the people's knowledge. If you–"
"Wait, wait, wait," Nyell raised a hand, interrupting Allen. "Are you telling me that we used to be lovers?"
To this, Allen responded with a sad, sorrowful smile. Then, it dawned upon him. According to hearsay and the tribe's history, every chief of the White Moon tribe remained single until death—all except Ialleion. Even then, some legends said he had no lovers in his lifetime, others said he had. It wasn't clear, although Nyell now knew which to believe.
Why didn't he listen to his uncle? He shouldn't have probed; he'd have been better left ignorant, for a searing pain now soared in his rib cage, clamping at his heart and making it hard to breathe.
One partner remembered, while the other didn't. What was the point of knowing the truth, then?