To Hell And Back | Granevere | Edited

Chapter Seventy-Four

Granger's onee-chan is hawt dayum

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Her hair was longer than her skirt and the way she giggled, Guinevere could tell her voice was gentle and precious. This woman was ethereally beautiful despite the way she was dressed so modestly, wearing a robe made of hand-stitched deerskin.

"W-What," Guinevere couldn't form up a word for her jaw was stiffening.

"I'm glad you came," the woman said. "Come now. We best hasten if we ought to save the boy."

"T-The boy? You mean... Granger, I mean, Yacob?"

The woman nodded, walking away. Guinevere quickly followed. But as soon as she stood up, her stomach twinged in pain, causing her to bend over and hiss.

"Eat this," said the woman. She offered the redhead the Robin. Guinevere grimaced in response. "Don't worry. It's only an illusion and as a mage, you should know that this bird doesn't exist, nor is it a bird.

Guinevere had no choice but the given fact that the bird wasn't real, it made her a little less sick as she pulls the bird in her mouth.

The bird combusts into smaller particles and they travel down her throat. It was a weird feeling yet satisfying at the same time as her stomach was calming down.

"You mean, this is, the Breath of Life?" Guinevere asked, feeling a little excited. "I can't believe it. This kind of spell, only gods can make something like this. And I take it that you are what they call Natura?"

The woman shakes her head. "I am but another member of this village. My name is Cresta and I am Yacob's mother. I'm no longer walking the earth but my spirit is still embedded in these grounds of what once was my village."

"You are a ghost!" The redhead takes a step back.

"Ghosts, spirits, we are all one."

"But how are you uh, Yacob's mother when you don't have the white mark on your hair?"

"I'm not full-blooded Naturan. My brother and I ran away from our abusive home. We encountered the tribe and they took us in their care seeing we were nothing but juvenile vagabonds. My brother was killed many long years back before I married another member of the tribe and had a child."

"And I take it you were killed as well?"

The woman frowned. "I killed myself."

Guinevere suddenly felt a pang of anger against her chest. "How could you be so selfish and leave your son all alone to fend for himself?"

"I knew what my son is capable of," Cresta spat. "And I have lured you into this place so that you would know as well."

"That demon inside of him isn't a power, it's a curse and it must be removed!"

"The removal would be critical and you would have to find a new heart for him then. And as recommended, it can only be removed when it has been passed down to an offspring with the same special type of blood. The kind of heart he needs is rare to find. It'll be easier to embrace and harness the family heirloom than to destroy it."

"So the heart he has is of a demon... well, it's less of a family heirloom and more of a parasite as from what I see!" Guinevere clenched her fists. "And why are you showing yourself to me instead of your son who needs you right now?"

"Because you've been his mother all this time, not me."

"Lady, what?!" Guinevere laughed humorlessly. "That doesn't even make sense, perhaps in the English language. In your language, i-it might be normal to say..."