Uthayn gulped, glancing back and forth between a grinning Claudius and a glaring Percival.
Of all places, the soul feather had to land in this lunatic High Wraith's bathtub!
He now regretted running back to the Stillum so soon. If he had just stayed back and filled the damn tub with water, none of this would have happened.
"Haha… that, that might have flown away from the tree in the wind," he said with a diplomatic smile. With each word, he took a step back, putting distance between himself and the Wraiths.
Mara, already expecting what was about to happen, sneakily fluttered his wings and was just about to escape, but with a snap of Claudius's fingers, Mara shrunk in size.
His sticky crow form changed. His black eyes turned hollow, the wings disappeared, and his body morphed into nothing more than a flying piece of white laundry.
"Boo…"
Mara looked down at his new body and let out a retching sound of pure disdain.
On the other hand, Uthayn froze, jaw dropping open in horror. His eyes snapped to Claudius's fingers, which were already poised to snap again. He launched forward and caught Claudius's hand midair.
"No!" he shouted.
Claudius raised a brow, silently warning him to let go. Uthayn shook his head, refusing. "Don't turn me into that silly ghost. If you're going to punish me, at least make me a handsome one!"
Percival's lips twitched at his words. This boy!
He wasn't even worried about becoming a ghost; rather, he just wanted to be a handsome one but then he was a ghost to begin with. Percival seriously began to doubt this was the same boy he raised… Maybe some bratty spirit from the Hall of Void had possessed him, he thought.
Claudius chuckled. "Who said I was going to turn you into a ghost? My bathtub looks old and worn out. You'll make a perfect replacement." He clapped his hands, seemingly satisfied with his material selection.
Uthayn's face scrunched in disgust. He let go of Claudius's hand and turned to Percival only to meet a deathly glare.
"Ahem…" he cleared his throat. "It's not my fault. Mara sneezed and sent the feathers flying. Now that Claudius punished him, we're good. Bye-bye. See you at dinner!" He waved and turned, ready to bolt out of the place.
Just as Uthayn turned to flee, a rope appeared out of thin air and wrapped tightly around his body, immobilizing him. His ankles were bound, and he dropped to the floor, kneeling with a grunt. Uthayn cursed under his breath.
"How many?" Percival asked, his voice grave and serious.
"Three."
"Boo."
Both Uthayn and Mara answered at the same time.
"Thirteen," Claudius responded thoughtfully. "That's quite a number."
Uthayn gritted his teeth and glared at Mara, who looked down and bashfully joined his ghostly fingers in a classic oopsie pose.
Claudius turned to pat Percival's shoulder. "Make sure he drags back every single one. Miss even one… and you can forget about your son," he warned.
Percival frowned, replying firmly, "He is not my son."
Claudius rolled his eyes. "Whatever soothes your dead soul," he muttered, then vanished in a puff of smoke. After he left, there was still silence between the people outside the Stillum.
"Follow me," Percival said, entering the Stillum.
The ropes binding Uthayn fell away, and he stood up, brushing invisible dust from his shirt. He shot a glare at the puny ghost floating nearby.
"One of these days, I'm going to cook you in a pot and eat you as a full-course meal," he snapped.
Mara floated in midair, guilty, and followed Uthayn as they trailed behind Percival into the Stillum.
Inside, Uthayn noticed something was off with Percival. His expression was darker than usual. He stood silently in front of the Soul Tree, his eyes scanning every inch of the tree, wondering if he had miscounted the missing feathers.
"Where's the feather in the top-right corner?" Percival asked, pointing his fingers toward the highest branch.
Uthayn followed the direction and blinked. It was the very branch Mara sat on when he sneezed.
"Oh, that? That was the first feather that flew off," he said casually, shrugging his shoulders.
Percival's lips trembled, rage beginning to cloud his expression. He raised his hand, and a sudden invisible force slammed into Uthayn, hurling him through the air. His back collided with the wall, and he crumpled to the floor, coughing violently.
"Damn… what's with him?" Uthayn groaned, clutching his chest and trying to soothe the stinging pain.
Mara gasped and immediately fluttered to his master's side, his tiny ghostly form trembling with worry.
"Boo…"
"I'm alright…" Uthayn coughed again, wincing. "Just a tap…"
Coughcough.
Only when he heard the sharp, wheezing coughs did Percival come out of his fury. His jaw tightened. He slowly lowered his hand, his eyes flickering with regret. Without a word, he turned away from Uthayn, his back heavy with silence.
Uthayn stood up from the ground. Looking at the back of a sad old man, he chuckled. "Come on, Percival," he said with a grin. "It doesn't hurt at all. I'm energetic enough to lose ten more feathers if you want."
"-_-"
Percival's fleeting regret vanished at the speed it had arrived.