His Forsaken Luna-Chapter 110: The Children (3)

That night I sat before the fire, a blanket wrapped around me, staring at the flames as the wind howled outside. I didn’t look. I didn’t want to in case any phantom children tried to lure me outside in the snowstorm.

There were only fifteen children left. Five ’infected’. Those five were also blindfolded now for fear that they could hypnotise people into undoing their restraints after the woman earlier claimed she didn’t know what she had been doing and felt influenced.

The servants who had been bitten were now showing signs of a fever and were in the infirmary. Eryx and Alaric shared a look and I didn’t stay, aware of what they had to do. Instead I sought after the healthy children, needing to see their progress, and lighten the weight on my heart.

As the servant stated they were moving around, and didn’t act like cannibals or beasts. The 12-year-old boy from before, the one who I’d seen the night I ’sleep walked’ to the woods, was there. All of them were quiet, even the younger ones. Already I was starting to see a pack mentality among them and he seemed to be the one they looked to.

The child sat at a table, watching the others either talk in hushed whispers, trying to read a book or resting in one of the cots. Their ’quarters’ was an old hall we used to host celebrations in but Deyanira didn’t want to continue using the hall my mother had frequented so much.

The hall had their cots lined up, tables and chairs, seating area and the grand fireplace always alight, warming the area. None of the children lingered near the tall glass windows that caused a draft or where the sunlight poured in the most. It was a makeshift living quarters for them but they all seemed content. Their clothing was new and they had been bathed, looking better than the nights before.

I’d sat beside the boy, observing him. "We cannot go home, can we?" He said quietly, careful not to say it in front of the younger pups. He sounded older than he looked. Wiser.

"I’m sorry," I say, trying not to observe him too much. "What is your name?"

He shakes his head. "I don’t know."

"You... lost your memories?" I glanced at the side of his neck where the little sun mark was, barely visible.

"No. I do not have parents. But they do." He nods at the others then corrects himself, "Did."

Although the kid did freak me out initially, I relaxed a little after speaking with him. There was a bit more colour in his cheeks compared to the phantom child I’d seen in the forest. "Can I name you?"

He shrugged. "Is it truly important? The Fae don’t tell each other their names."

I freeze, a shiver running down my spine and arms. "The Fae?" I ask.

He nodded, still watching the others silently. "Why don’t the Fae tell each other their names?" I prompt him, wondering again if this child did try to lure me into the woods.

"There is power in a name," the boy said and I could only stare at him. Was he really 12? He looked up at me, those dark eyes peering up at me. "My friends in the forest told me that."

"Your friends in the forest..." I said slowly and glanced at the giant windows overlooking the snowy field and the forest beyond the wall. "And where are these friends now?"

"Hmmm, not here," he said quietly then told a younger child off for taking a toy from another. The pair immediately stopped arguing and apologised. Then he looked back at me. "Have you thought of my name then?"

"Erm... Xan? How about Xan?"

He tilts his head. "Does it have a meaning?"

"Defender of man..." We stare at each other for a long moment. His black hair and dark eyes were usual traits of a Southern Were but his skin was pearlescent.

"That is acceptable." The boy tilted his head up, almost proudly. "You may call me Xan. But I won’t offer it to the Fae."

"Why? How do you know so much about the... the Fae?" I ask, wondering if I should really rely on this child for information. But there was something about him that I couldn’t shake off.

"My friends were Fae," he said simply. "But they went away before... the attack."

It was quiet a moment before I asked. "Your friends... what did they look like? Did they tell you their name?"

"I don’t remember...." Xan frowned at me. "They call themselves by their middle names. I only remember Asa."

"Asa?" I waited for Xan to continue but he hopped down without another word, almost dismissing me as he went to sit with another child, a girl who sat by the fire.

𓆩:*¨༺✧ ♛ ✧༻¨*:𓆪

Hours after my visit to Xan, still reeling from our strange conversation, I had my fairytale book, searching for details about the importance of names when screams erupted in the main palace. I put the book down and wandered to the window of the parlour in the Guest Pavilion, still waiting for Eryx and Faidon’s return.

My body was taut with tension as I looked out into the snowy courtyard, listening. More screams erupted but it wasn’t in the same location. My cloak was in my hands moments later and I rushed out, Kharis close behind me as we investigated what happened.

Kharis cursed under his breath and I glanced at him noting the last bit of glow from his eyes, a mind-link with another Were. "We do not need to investigate," he said solemnly, placing a hand on my arm. "Four bodies have shown up."

"Bodies? How-"

"The first two had their throats ripped open. The other two..." Kharis’ expression hardened as he watched through the other Were’s eyes. "Multiple wounds, drained of blood."

"Blood Wraiths?" I whisper, clutching the cloak tighter and watching my surroundings. "The Blood Wraiths are here?"