“I have to admit, you impressed me mightily with the Living Flame. Further, your final all-out attack proves to me that what my sight read of your aura is true. You are a very good animage. However, in order to bring back the dead, you’d have to be at least as good in at least three other disciplines as you are in Pyromastery, and nearly as good in a few others. While there are probably less than few dozen animages in the world capable of your level of Pyromastery, there are not many more animages capable of raising the dead. I don’t know of anyone that overlaps between Pyromastery and healing to that level.”
Edwyrd coughed. He’d have to come up with something that would convince the guy. He tried to dredge up some of what Boggy had told him about souls and planes and other junk he’d read in fantasy novels. “Well, actually. Rupert did a lot of the work himself.” That was certainly true. Maelen looked on, skeptical.
“What you saw was true. His spirit did leave; but Rupert is capable of projecting his spirit out of his body via astral projection. When his body got so damaged, he did this, and used everything he had to keep his silver cord connected, tenuously, to his body. I noticed this when I went to him. So I just took him to the cabin to work and then just healed his flesh. Something most anyone could do.” Edwyrd had no idea if this was true about animages, but... “When it was sufficiently healed, he was able to reenter his body with me providing a little extra energy.” Edwyrd shrugged, trying to decide if the intent stare meant Maelen believed or not. “Naturally it was very traumatic, he’s a little bit tired now, and needs to regain his strength.”
Maelen turned his head, looking out over the sea. He chewed his lip, deep in thought. Edwyrd had no idea if what he’d said made any sense at all. From Boggy, he knew that what he’d done at the party was basically astral projection, the wizards had severed the silver cord tethering him to his body. Maelen tilted his head and looked back to Edwyrd, scowling slightly.
“What you said could have worked, I suppose.” He paused for a moment, then started pacing slightly in the cramped hallway. “It is certainly-more plausible than you being the greatest animage on the face of the planet. Further, given that Rupert also seems to share an aura similar to yours, and I know what you can do, I won’t disbelieve he could do what you claim. However for a little kid to be able to know so much...”
“Well, he is older than he looks, and he is extremely bright.” At last Edwyrd was able to say something that was true. Maelen stopped, looked at Edwyrd, shifted his jaw and shrugged.
“Ok, I’ll at least allow myself to believe this for now. It is better than anything I can come up with. But I would like to look at the boy after he’s rested.” Edwyrd nodded in acknowledgement of the demand, what else could he do.
This seemed to satisfy Maelen as he nodded his head in satisfaction. “Fine then, do you have any more clothes? or would you like to borrow some of mine?” He glanced meaningfully down at Edwyrd’s blanket wrapped torso.
Rupert lay on the bunk. He’d have liked to roll over on his back, but his new wings made that a bit difficult. He closed his eyes in contentment. The aching was disappearing. He felt a bit strange still, but it felt right. He’d gone for so long suppressing his true nature, his true self, that he hadn’t even noticed how bad it was until he’d shed his old self.
He hadn’t realized the constant tension, the pressure he’d put on himself. Now he could relax. For the first time, he was as he was meant to be. A demon, he was a true demon, just like his father. Rupert smiled. True, Tom hadn’t reacted quite as positively as he’d hoped when Rupert had revealed what he knew, but he hadn’t denied it, hadn’t laughed. Of course, it would be pretty hard to deny it. Tom himself said Rupert looked just like him. Tom hadn’t rejected him, he’d even gone out to keep Jenn away, to help Rupert.
Even though Rupert had known, or hoped he knew why Tom had come, known that Tom had come to claim his half-demon son, he’d still been afraid he’d been wrong. Afraid that Tom hadn’t come for him, hadn’t even known Rupert was his son. Worse yet, been afraid maybe he wasn’t Tom’s son at all. Now though, it was clear. Since no two demons ever really looked alike, how could Rupert be anything but Tom’s son if they looked so much alike.
