15 Went On A Date With The Enemy

"DON'T COME NEAR ME!" Tuppel shrieked, crawling away. His voice grew small, almost sounding like a child's, as he sobbed, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Don't hurt me."

As if to mirror his disturbed mental state, cracks fissured the sky, splitting the moons in half while tremors shook the ground. Trees started to break and fall, yet the crows didn't scatter and kept poking the corpses. When a trunk smashed a few, the birds flocked around and feasted on the limbs that protruded from under the tree, not minding that some were still alive. They tore the flesh apart regardless of their cries.

"Holy shit! What's going on?!"

"Well," Allen clicked his tongue in annoyance. "It seems you scared the hell out of him, and his dream realm is collapsing. We better leave before we get caught up in the aftermath."

"What? We just arrived and didn't learn anything yet!"

"We're invaders, and when a dream realm collapses, it expulses the strangers in a not-so-kind way. We can always try again tomorrow night with another elder whose mental fortitude is stronger than Tuppel's."

Nyell was taken aback. Then, he threw a disgusted look at Tuppel. What a useless piece of trash! A string of insults passed through his mind while the man shrieked louder under his glare. Tears started to run down his cheeks, pouring like a waterfall. And even though this was a dream, it enacted bodily functions, and Tuppel peed himself. 

How pathetic! They didn't even get to the interrogation!

"I didn't know I was so ugly I made old men cry," Nyell scoffed. "Whatever. Get me out of this shitty dream."

"As you wish."

***

Allen shifted his ethereal eyes to Nyell, who looked back at him. However, the green emerald irises were gone. The white of the eyeballs had grown pitch-black, swallowing the irises and the pupils. The usual expressive face was now emotionless, his lips stretched into a thin line. 

"Hello," Allen greeted, unsurprised. "I'd like to say it's nice to meet you, but I'd be lying."

The thing blinked. "Why am I in this body? He wasn't my target." 

"I wonder why, indeed." 

Although Allen appeared calm on the surface, he had murderous thoughts–not against the thing before him but against a group of old, decrepit men. They dared to go after his destined mate, huh…

"I'm hungry."

"I bet you are. But if you eat this man's soul, I'll make your eternity a living hell."

The thing blinked again, seemingly not understanding why Allen was angry. 

"You're quite innocent for a daemon's familiar spirit," Allen said with a small chuckle. Do you mind telling me why you're going after the Black Moon tribe's people?"

"I don't know. My master wants some of them dead, but he's never happy whenever I bring someone to him. Will he be happy if I bring this one?"

"I don't think so. What happens when it doesn't want the men and women you bring it?"

"He tells me to feed on them."

"So they're already dead."

Allen let out a sigh. He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, the villagers would be alright. However, his hopes were quickly dashed.

"I need to go now, so sleep."

The thing stretched a hand to grab Allen's forehead, but the White Moon tribe's chief didn't let him do as he pleased and caught his wrist. 

"I won't allow you to leave with him. If you want to go, get out of his body and go back in your spiritual form."

"I can't do that. I have to bring someone today since I failed yesterday. My master is growing impatient."

"Sorry, kid. I don't care whether your master is happy or whether you're hungry. I won't let you take this man. He is mine, after all."

Nyell did agree to be his during his stay at the Black Moon tribe, so Allen wasn't lying. Spiritual beings were sensitive to lies, and he didn't want to anger this young thing. Honesty was the first step if he wanted to get across it without hurting Nyell in the process. 

"He is yours?" The thing frowned.

"He is."

"Hm. Both of your souls seem linked. Why?"

"Do you know what destined mates are?"

"No, I don't."

"It's something wonderful. I've been waiting to meet mine my whole life, so I cannot let you take him from me."

"But…"

"I know, you have to bring someone with you. So, how about me? Your master won't be happy with Nyell, but it may be with me."

"Why? You're not from the Black Moon tribe."

Allen smiled, his eyes soft but sorrowful.

"Because I know something it doesn't."

***

Nyell opened his eyes to an empty hut; Allen was nowhere in sight. It left him speechless. Who said he wouldn't take his eyes off of him again? 

And, let's be honest, he had half-expected the man to crawl into his bed while he slept. 

To enter someone's dream, Nyell first had to be asleep, and since Nyell wasn't a shaman, he needed Allen's guidance, meaning that they had to be physically in contact. It allowed Allen to reach his spirit through the mediums of their connected bodies. Of course, Nyell refused to let the man take him in his arms, only allowing him to hold his hand. He still forbade Allen from climbing onto his bed so the man could only sit on the ground by his bedside. It didn't mean he'd follow through during his sleep. The bastard was an opportunist.

"That guy is honestly weird," Nyell mumbled, rubbing his eyes to help him wake up. "I should be the one complying with his orders, not the other way around."

Nyell was supposed to be 'his' during his stay at the Black Moon tribe. It was their deal, yet Allen hadn't brought it up. The only thing he did was stick to him like his shadow. 

"Well, it has only been three days. Things can change."

Not like he wanted them to change. He was just surprised. The White Moon tribe's chief had asked his father to hand him over like he was nothing more than a commodity, so he hadn't expected the man to treat him like a living being. 

"Oh, whatever."

Nyell chased the thoughts away and got up, only to step on a sheet of paper. Odd. They didn't have paper in his tribe, as it cost an arm and a leg, and they usually used leaves to communicate and leather for important documents. 

Then, it must have been left by Allen.

A bad feeling twisted his bowels as Nyell bent over to take the sheet. On it was written in a cursive, elegant writing:

"Sorry, I won't be able to bring you into an elder's dream tonight. I'm now officially part of the missing persons. See you later."

Nyell didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or get angry. In the end, he opted for the latter. He screamed as he dashed outside, "Myrven, Layla! Your chief is a fucking idiot! I'll wring his neck when I get my hands on him!"

"What did he do this time?" Myrven asked, searching for Allen. Strange. He wasn't following behind his destined mate.

"He went on a date with the enemy, duh."

…Sorry, what?!