Chapter 3329 The Real Monster (Part 2)

"The last time I was truly happy, instead, was when I held Epphy as a baby in my arms. Where the fuck has time gone? What have I been doing until now?" Silverwing asked. "You've walked the path of the Lich. A sane Lich, but a Lich nonetheless." Baba Yaga replied. "I had many children, but they were all born as Odi and sooner or later died of old age.

"It's because of that pain that I've started researching undeath and gave life to my Firstborns. Some people think I'm a failure because even after all this time, my tower is still inferior to Ripha's.

"Those people are idiots. I didn't fail because power was never my goal. My tower is full of happy memories that I wouldn't trade for anything. Bloodhaven gives my children a place safe even from Guardians and keeps me sane.

"I'm the greatest mage of all time because I'm still alive. Maybe some other white core was wiser or stronger than me, but they are all dead now. If this isn't success, I don't know what it is." A wave of her hand made countless pictures and frames appear all over the walls and on the furniture.freewebnoveℓ.com

They all depicted a special and happy moment Baba Yaga had spent with one of her children, both biological and undead.

"Shit." Ripha mumbled. "I don't have a fraction of those."

"Lucky you, I have barely a handful." Silverwing sighed. "Do you think it's too late for me, Yaga?"

"If there's a lesson from me and Ripha it's that's never too late, Lochra." The Mother replied. "I haven't stopped looking for a partner, I just haven't found one yet. You can do the same.

"Just don't limit yourself to white cores or Awakened. Look for someone you like as a person. And don't give him power too easily or he'll be corrupted by it."

"What man would ever want an old hag like me?" Silverwing waved at her lithe and voluptuous figure.

"A stunning old hag who looks twenty-five?" Ripha's voice oozed with so much sarcasm that Mogar found itself dry. "Men are simple creatures, gods bless them. I got Threin when I was three hundred and Tyris got herself Valeron when she was... I don't know, a million years old?"

Somewhere in the palace, the First Guardian was playing with the babies when her left eye suddenly twitched in annoyance.

"I'm not that old, you hag. She is just jealous because I'm prettier than her. Am I the prettiest in the world, beloved?"

"Yes." Valeron the Second giggled with joy.

He had no idea what she was talking about but the golden lady resembled his mother so much that it hurt. The baby boy would have done and said anything to see Tyris smile.

"Bottom line, you can do it, Lochra." Menadion said, unaware of the unyielding rage she had stirred in the Guardian. "As long as you can rein in your shitty personality, of course. I mean, I suck, but you are the worst.

"How could you try to kill Lith on his deathbed right in front of Epphy after she got hurt. to save him?"

"Ripha, how could you..." The Mother raised her finger to object when she remembered the circumstances of Silverwing's first meeting with the revived Solus/Elphyn and how the events had played out.

"You are actually right. She nodded. "Listen to Ripha, Lochra. From this day onward, more loving and less bitching. Always remember, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

"I never understood that saying." Silverwing knew they were right but was too proud to admit it. "After all, you can catch even more flies with shit, so what?"

"Here's why you are wrong" Baba Yaga tutted. "Honey is sticky so the fly stays. Shit dries up after a while and the fly abandons it in search of wetter shit, if you catch my drift."

"Good gods, Yaga!" Silverwing and Menadion said in unison, one blushing up to her ears and the other laughing her ass off.

"That's gold, Yaga. With your permission, I'm stealing that." Ripha rolled on the floor, laughing.

"Well, this is a first." The Mother clicked her tongue. "I allow it, but only because history teaches me you'd steal my stuff anyway."

"Hey!" Menadion didn't find it funny anymore.

"It's the truth so deal with it." The Mother replied. "If you can't take criticism even from me, how can you fix your relationship with Solus? You've done much worse than stealing a spell here and there to her. Your words, not mine."

"You are right. I'm sorry." Menadion nodded. "Can we go back mocking Lochra now?"

"Hey!" Silverwing said.

"With pleasure" Baba Yaga nodded. "First let's point out her major flaws. Then we can decide which dashing fellow we know is more suited for her."

"First, this is not funny." Silverwing grunted. "Second, what about my opinion?" "Over one thousand years and not one success." The Mother shrugged. "History also teaches us you suck at selecting your partner, Lochra. Even Ripha got at least one right." "What do you mean, even Ripha?" Menadion said, only to be shut up by Baba Yaga's glare. "I mean, she's right. Let's drink our sorrows away."

"Leave the bottle." Silverwing gulped down another shot of Red Moon while her alleged

best friend rubbed her long list of romantic disasters in her face.

***

Meanwhile, the Verhens were assembled in the Family Hall of the palace.

It had soft carpets and even a fireplace for ambiance, letting people gather up in front of the warmth of the fire. It was an impossibility since everything inside the palace was made of fabric but a small trick for a Guardian.

Lith was just done recounting the battle for the Fringe in the most family-friendly way he could spin it. Yet even with his talent as a liar and a storyteller, there was one ugly

truth he couldn't hide.

Aran and Leria had already asked Lith why Grandpa Valtak hadn't come back with the others. Lith had managed to buy himself one day already, but now he had no other choice but to face the music.

Of course, in his version of the story the Father of Fire died peacefully and of old age after the end of the battle, not because grievously wounded.

"The kids know he was old and they have already lost someone in the past. I can't disrespect Valtak's sacrifice by pretending he's hiding somewhere and ignoring Leria and Aran. They would think he doesn't like them anymore, or worse, they'd blame themselves, thinking they have offended him somehow! Lith thought.

He had already warned their parents, giving them time to prepare themselves to deal

with the blow.

Aran and Leria hadn't taken Mirim's and Lark's deaths well and even though they had known the Father of Fire only for a few weeks, Lith doubted things would go any

different.

"Grampa Valtak is dead?" Aran went pale, his hands trembling in shock.

"It was his time, little brother." Lith hugged him. "There was nothing anyone could do.

Not even Baba Yaga."

"But he's not dead-dead, right?" Leria pulled at Lith's shirt with hope. "He's in one of your feathers like Uncle Trion and Grandma Ripha."

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