Chapter 66

YONA

TWO CENTURIES LATER

“ You know that’s the wrong color for that don’t you?” Castor asked me as I furiously ground the herbs in the mortar. I looked up, grinning at the old Nephilim who sat on a stool beside me.

“Oh I know, but I added in some extras for an experiment,” I said around a smile. He laughed, his low chuckle warming my heart. Castor was ancient at this point, he had been old when I was born and it didn’t take a genius to know he didn’t have another century in him. He had been young when he knew Shamshiel, my fathers father, and had begun to age quicker once both of his wings were lost to him. Angels didn’t age, but Nephilim did, being that we were half human. Despite that our life spans were quite long, most Nephilim lived until 600 years or so. Castor would tell me stories of my father from when he was growing up, and quite the pain in the ass. He spoke of the war torn society of that time, of Shamshiel and his many children. Of a time when an angel or Nephilims goal