There Lives a Beast in the Burning Heart ✓ | a novella

Chapter 11: The Moths

Argenton hung his head between his legs, breathing deeply. In his mind was single thought.

I need to kill Septent.

But that was what his father wanted.

He stared at his hands and they didn't look like his own hands. The calloused hands and the scar down the thumb. He couldn't remember how he got that. When he raised his head and turned to the right, his worn, wet, and red-eyed face looked back at him.

I look like shit. He rubbed his eyes. A streak of blood came from a cracked wound that ran along the side of his jaw. Hissing when his tears touched the wound, he patted it with his sleeve, pressing down hard.

At that moment, Argenton saw himself stumbling through the forest in the dark. He stumbled and a thorned branch scratched him as he fell. The memory fizzled away.

Now he was standing in his home with flames licking his hands, hair, and clothes but not of it burned. Before him sat his father on the sofa, shielded and safe. Eyes wide and mouth agape in terror. A trembling hand lifted to point. Following his finger, Argenton turned his head and there was himself as a faceless, dark figure ablaze and laughing without sound.

It was the voice, He remembered, in physical form. Telling me to kill for what Pa had done. Take his magick.

A knock came to his door. The memory slipped away. Argenton sat back on the bed. It was then it all came together. The umbraghasts knew about his Haunter situation but not for their gain otherwise they wouldn't have let him live through the Haunter battles. It would have been better for them if he died to get their Haunter if that was what they wanted. But didn't want it.

They wanted to know for sure. Clever things.

The knock repeated. Argenton could sense it wasn't Danlen. His magick would've been a giveaway. Umbraghasts didn't give off any magick tingles when they didn't do magick.

"Come in," he said with a sigh.

The door cracked open. Floro's white hair came in before the girl and she slipped through the narrow space, swiftly closing the door behind her. She pulled the chair from the desk and sat down in front of him.

"I heard you remember now," she said.

"What do you want with me?" His tone came out strong, but he was getting tired. He wanted to sleep, but he knew sleep was never on his side. He could never truly sleep.

"Fairy Solskin experiments with Haunters to make auraghasts like Fauna and I," She crossed her hands on her lap, "we are products of her experiments. That's why auraghasts are rare. They don't naturally occur. Fairies like Fairy Solskin make them. Make us. Then abuse us, using us to drive in more Haunters because Haunters trust us because we are basically the same, but made of different energy. And you might think—"

"So, fairies make auraghasts out of Haun-ters?" Argenton's voice cracked and he cleared his throat. Clearly his emotions weren't done with him yet. "That means they gotta kill Haunters, but we never seem to have a shortage of them."

She shook her head. "They breed Haunters and get the children and kill the children. Use enough children to make enough energy for enough auraghasts."

"And what's that for?"

"Fairy Solskin at least creates auraghasts to use as slaves to hide Dewmish Mountain because she doesn't have the power to do it herself. Most auraghasts aren't like Fauna and I. We developed far beyond what she had expected. We became. Existed more. Became more—"

"Individuality," he said and she nodded, lowering her gaze to the floor. Argenton rubbed his hands together and pinched his chin. "So, why are ye tellin' me this?"