Blood of Immortals | Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“Boy, why are you such a wimp?” Gideon laughed as I struggled to carry a pile of firewood.

“Well, I’m sorry for being a wimp,” I shot back sarcastically, setting the wood down with a thud. As I crouched to start a fire, I ignored his laughter echoing behind me.

Despite his teasing, Gideon was my best shot at reaching the gates of the demon realm in one piece. After the inn incident, I learned he was a wolf heading to visit his relatives there.

Traveling alone had been a constant gamble with danger, and I wasn’t exactly the strongest fighter. My limited spell repertoire couldn’t save me from every threat. Having Gideon around made the journey safer—though not without its challenges. His loud snores, complete lack of manners, and unshakable narcissism tested my patience daily. But at least he hadn’t tried to kill me... yet.

At dawn, when most creatures slept, Gideon insisted on training me. He said, “A man needs to be a man at some point in his life. Better start early so you don’t fall behind.”

Sure, great advice—except I had zero intention of becoming a man, no matter how much he believed in my "potential."

One evening, we camped near a lake. I’d have jumped at the chance to bathe, but my disguise as a lean, dark-haired boy named Aaron complicated things. Letting Gideon know I wasn’t what I seemed wasn’t an option. So, I waited until he fell asleep before sneaking into the water.

It wasn’t that Gideon seemed dangerous. In fact, if I’d ever had a father, I’d imagine him being something like Gideon—gruff yet honest, carefree but dependable. It was just... after what happened with Alaric and Ruse, trusting someone again felt impossible.

“Uh, Aaron” he called me. “Wash my socks! They smelled terrible.” He told me as he waved his socks in the air. I almost puked, how dirty could he be?!

“Hey, Aaron!” Gideon called as I returned to the camp. He waved his socks in the air. “Wash these for me, will you? They stink.”

I recoiled at the smell. “Why don’t you wash them yourself?”

“Come on, boy! Show some respect for your elders!”

“Respect yourself and do it!” I snapped, marching into the tent to escape the stench.

The next day, we debated how to board a ship with limited funds.

“Why do I have to hide in the luggage?” I asked, arms crossed.

“Because you’re small,” Gideon said matter-of-factly. “And because I wouldn’t fit.”

I scowled but lost the argument. That afternoon, Gideon bought a single ticket while I was crammed into a stuffy, smelly bag with his unwashed clothes.

Hours later, he finally let me out.

“Why didn’t you release me earlier?”

“Oh, that’s because…” He scratched his head.

“Because?” I pressed, glaring.

“I fell asleep.”

I snapped. “You what?! Gideon, you’re about to see hell!” I grabbed a broom and began whacking him.

Later that night, he grudgingly gave me his bed. I took it without hesitation.

The next morning, a fierce storm battered the ship, forcing the crew to work tirelessly through the night. When it finally calmed, we docked at a nearby island for repairs.

The island seemed deserted—no sign of human or demon inhabitants, just traces of wild animals. But Gideon grew uneasy.

“What’s wrong, old man?” I asked, noticing how he scratched his neck like something was bothering him.

“This place feels... off,” he muttered. “Don’t let your guard down, boy.”

“Boy, don’t you feel that there’s something weird about this island?”

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“Everything seemed fine to me.”

“I don’t know,” he started scratching his neck. “Just feeling itchy.”

“Have you eaten something bad?”

“Listen, boy,” he said seriously. “I don’t know what’s wrong with this place, but don’t let your guard down.”

I looked at Gideon. For some reason, he was serious about this. And Gideon was never serious. Until now.

“Got it,” I answered.

As we explored the island, night fell. During dinner, we heard a haunting melody. The voice was so beautiful and eerie it sent shivers down my spine.

One by one, the crew and passengers stood, eyes vacant, and began walking toward the source of the song.

“Gideon!” I grabbed his arm, but he was unresponsive, his face slack. “Hey!” I shook him, but it was no use.

I followed the entranced group into a cave, the water level rising as we ventured deeper. At the end of the cave, atop three massive rocks, I saw her—a siren.

The creature looked both terrifying and alluring, her silver scales shimmering under the moonlight streaming through cracks in the cave.

“Gideon!” I shook him harder, panic rising.

The siren’s voice stopped, and silence filled the cave. Then her glowing eyes locked onto me.

“You!” she hissed. “Why are you unaffected by my song?”

I froze, pretending to be dazed, but her piercing gaze told me it wasn’t working.

“You’re no man!” she shrieked, her voice echoing like a thunderclap. Covering my ears did little to muffle the sound as she muttered under her breath, preparing another spell.

I had to act fast. My eyes darted to Gideon. He was still under the siren’s spell, his bronze knife glinting at his waist.

With trembling hands, I pulled the knife free and slashed his arm. 

“Aw!” Gideon yelped, snapping out of his trance. “What the hell, kid?!”

“Sorry!” I said hurriedly. “I was trying to save you.”

I dragged him behind a rock as the siren’s screeches filled the cave.

“It felt like I was there but... not in control,” Gideon muttered, shaking his head.

“It’s a siren,” I looked at him, waiting for the question I was afraid to hear, but his mind was thinking of another thing.

Gideon’s expression turned grim. “Listen, kid. I’m still weak. If she starts singing again, I might lose control. You’ll have to deal with her yourself.”

“What?!” I panicked.

“The only way to kill a siren is to stab her with a bronze knife coated in her victim’s blood.”

I stared at the knife in my trembling hands, blood still dripping from its edge.

“You mean—”

“The one thing that can defeat her is in your hands,” Gideon said.

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