Page 15

Chapter 15

Trust

O ne month.

The High One had successfully developed her cure, the very thing to restore her connection with their goddess, and yet, he wouldn’t give it to her for an entire month . And for what, a single mistake? The villagers had calmed down; she’d fixed it. And still, he punished her.

She’d known the High One to be severe at times, holding Kreenas to higher expectations than acolytes, but this was cruel. He thought he could control her, and perhaps he had all these years, but this time she would forge her own path.

For if he truly cared for their kingdom’s wellbeing, he wouldn’t wait to restore her power.

If he truly cared for her , he wouldn’t withhold her destiny.

What do you think your leader is hiding?

She’d dismissed Elnok’s accusation last night as ignorance. But now, she couldn’t stop asking herself the same question.

“Are you sure we can trust your friend?” Elnok asked quietly as they walked out of the temple and through the gardens.

Last night’s festivities had been promptly cleaned up. All wine glasses and barrels were out of sight, the hanging orodytes returned to the Dynami barracks, and all extra produce taken to villagers’ homes. Willow branches swayed in the breeze, brushing against each other, a sound that usually brought Sylzenya peace. But she didn’t feel at peace anymore, hadn’t since the rite.

“Nyla will understand the severity of the situation,” Sylzenya replied.

“What makes you so sure?”

She stopped underneath a large willow. “I just lied for you, and you still don’t trust me?”

“Whoa, let’s remember some fine details, shall we? You sticking out your neck for me wasn’t just for my sake, but yours. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but I’m not convinced you know who you can trust.”

Sylzenya raised a brow. “You know how Kreenas aren’t supposed to leave the temple?”

Elnok tilted his head. “Right?”

“Nyla and I have before.”

“I thought you’d never lied to the High One?”

She shrugged. “He never asked.”

He laughed. The sound was deep and full, reverberating through her own chest. She approached him, the smell of his warm skin a surprising comfort.

Lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, “It was three years ago at the annual banquet. We were approached by two Dynameis who were severely drunk. Nyla and I weren’t much better, admittedly.”

“You sly dog.” He smirked. “A golden warrior did you in, did he?”

Sylzenya scowled. “Do you have to be so crass?”

His smile widened. “And how was it?”

She narrowed her gaze.

“Let me guess,” he said, leaning in, “Underwhelming?”

Yes.

“Privacy is an important value in my kingdom, so I’d prefer you not invade such an intimate matter,” she muttered.

“You brought it up,” he teased. “Sounds like you had the night of your life.”

Sylzenya eyed him, heat rushing through her face as she studied his physique. “I learned attractiveness doesn’t guarantee much. It’s all bravado and shining armor until behind closed doors.”

“Is that so?” he whispered, leaning in closer, “Perhaps you just needed someone outside of your… typical scope.”

Her breath caught. She collected herself, backing away, “I know you’re not suggesting yourself?”

“Me? And you?” He scoffed. “I think we’d end up throwing punches instead.”

“It’d be like a Dynami fighting a monster,” she agreed, and yet her heart beat fast against her chest.

“Who’s who?” He smiled.

“You’d be the monster. Just look at how disheveled you are.”

“Then you’re the prim and proper warrior? Fitting, considering how straight you stand all the time. Looks exhausting.”

She laughed—a hard kind of laugh that hurt her belly, as if a spark of lightning had passed through her, leaving her warm and bright. But she quickly caught herself, clenching her jaw tight.

Elnok smiled, only to thin his mouth again. “But that’s your reasoning? You two went on a secret sexual escapade?”

“Would you be quiet ?” Sylzenya whispered. “It’s one of Aretta’s highest laws to not only stay at the temple, but also to never…”

“Fuck?”

Sylzenya’s face burned as she shushed him. Anyone else and this conversation would’ve made her want to burrow into a rodent’s underground home. But this man was impermanent; she doubted she’d ever see his face again after the treaty revisions.

“We could be stripped of our titles if anyone knew,” she said.

“Interesting choice of words.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Are you capable of saying anything with substance?”

Elnok crossed his arms, his thick corded muscles accentuated in his black tunic. Sylzenya’s face burned hotter, but she attributed it to the sunshine spilling through the leaves.

“You really think your High One doesn’t know these little… adventures between your Kreenas and Dynameis take place?”

Sylzenya scoffed. “If he did, then he’d have no more Kreenas or Dynameis left.”

“So everyone does it, do they? And has anyone ever been caught?”

Sylzenya paused. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Fascinating.”

Uncertainty pulled at her mind. “It’s the truth. I swear by Aretta, if anyone was found out, they’d be strippe— removed of their title.”

He shrugged. “Of course. But I imagine it must be a very exciting rule to break. Adds some tension… some heat to those lustrous nights?”

It did.

“It’s nothing special.”

“Oh, I seriously doubt that.” He leaned in even closer. “What better way to add some excitement to such dangerous and painful roles you all have to fill than having an arbitrary threat come between a person and their most primal desire? A taste of forbidden fruit is quite the delicacy. And there’s nothing like the rush of getting away with something so spectacular.”

Heat burned along her skin. “If you’re suggesting the rule is some way to distract us… control us… then you misunderstand my kingdom far more than I realized.”

He smirked. “You can blame my guide. She’s supposed to be giving me a rich exposure .”

She narrowed her gaze. “Not the guide’s fault if the pompous, radically self-assured visitor refuses to listen to a word she says.”

“Pompous? I thought I was cursed?”

“I’m beginning to think you are.”

Sylzenya gulped, realizing her nose was inches from his; his curved lips held her full attention. She should’ve stepped back, given herself more room, but it’d feel too much like defeat, as if this wasn’t a mere conversation but a battle for truth.

“We can trust Nyla.” She forced her eyes to meet his.

Elnok opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he tilted his head, his eyes breaking from her gaze to study her face. She refused to move. Try all he wanted, but he wouldn’t unravel her. Even if the High One was acting different than usual, she’d figure it out in the end. This prince, or thief, or whatever he was, meant little. He wasn’t only questioning her kingdom—he was questioning her life.

Finally, he leaned back. Sylzenya readjusted her robe, the heat in her skin refusing to ebb.

“I still don’t like this plan,” Elnok said, “but I suppose there’s no stopping you, is there?”

Sylzenya folded her arms over her chest, the burn in her face washing away.

“We need to know the location of the compass, and the only way we might be able to do so is with a Kreena’s power. Nyla’s the only one I trust.” She paused. “If I could do it, I would.”

Elnok took a deep breath. “Then let’s hope you’re not wrong.”

“Your faith is inspiring.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Sylzenya surprised herself with a small laugh. She quickly passed it off as a cough, but she didn’t miss the sidelong smile he sent her. Her face burned again. She forced her eyes to meet his, not missing the dimpled smile he sent her; she bit the inside of her cheek as she shook herself of this conniving royal and picked her way down the path.

Willow branches brushing their arms, they passed through the entrance. Rays of golden light spilled along the path. Sylzenya’s fingers flexed at the sight of the Kreenas in their designated plots. Closing her eyes, she muttered a prayer, something she knew would only bring her disappointment. She ushered in life, waiting to hear the dirt sing to her, for Aretta’s blood in the soil to breathe against her palms.

She felt nothing.

She couldn’t touch it, couldn’t feel it. The cut on her back stung as a piece of her chest caved into itself.

“Sylzenya?” Elnok’s voice called to her.

Fresh air swept into her lungs as she looked up, vision blurry.

“Are you alright?” he asked, brows furrowed.

She nodded. “Nyla should be a bit further down.”

She was grateful he didn’t ask any more questions as they walked past Kreenas, each woman’s skin shining with sweat, their backs bleeding fresh blood—white robes stained with life, dripping crimson onto the dirt. Sylzenya’s heart leapt from her chest as she saw the familiar dark hair and pale skin of her friend. Nyla’s shoulders were burnt slightly red as she kneeled in her plot of land, a fresh plum tree wrapped in yellow light slowly but surely growing as tall as Sylzenya.

“These better taste juicier than yesterday’s batch,” Sylzenya said.

Nyla smiled, removing her hands from the dirt, their goddess’ power retreating into the soil.

“ Syl .”

Nyla’s hug was warm and familiar. Sylzenya buried her face into her shoulder, realizing just how taxing the last day had been.

“And this must be Prince Elnok, is it?” Nyla asked as she stepped back, releasing Sylzenya from her hold and narrowing her gaze at him. “Came to the grove to put your curse on us?”

“I’d be doing a poor job if I didn’t,” he replied.

Nyla’s narrowed gaze slowly lifted, a smile appearing in its turn. “You’re not as stiff as I expected.”

“No. That’s her job.” He tipped his head towards Sylzenya.

Nyla laughed. “One day and he’s already got you figured out, hasn’t he?”

Sylzenya raised a brow. He returned with a sly smile.

“I have a favor to ask,” Sylzenya said.

Nyla stopped laughing. “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

Nyla’s smile disappeared.

“But you have to promise you won’t tell anyone.” Sylzenya lowered her voice. “No other Kreenas, no acolytes, and especially not the High One.”

Her friend’s amber eyes widened. “Syl, what’s going on?”

“Can I trust you?”

“Always.”

Sylzenya took a deep breath, her heart battering against her chest. “Remember how I sought Aretta through the altar room’s roots?”

“Please tell me you aren’t doing that again,” she urged, gripping Sylzenya’s shoulder, “you almost died .”

Sylzenya gulped. She could feel Elnok’s stare burning into her face.

“I learned my lesson. What I didn’t tell you was that I received a vision about Aretta’s Willow when it happened.”

Sylzenya explained everything, including her lack of a cure and the High One’s choice to withhold it. She shared nothing about the gold ring turning to blood or the bird being killed by a claw of twigs. She still didn’t know what either events meant, and she feared them most of all.

“And if we’re going to find the compass,” Sylzenya continued, “we need to know which tree it’s in. I think if a Kreena can touch the trees and usher Aretta’s power, they might be able to tell if it’s located in that tree or not.”

Silence stretched taut between them.

“I’ll be candid with you,” Nyla stated. “You need to tell the High One about the vision.”

Sylzenya’s stomach dropped. “I tried, Nyla, but he told me Aretta’s Willow was only a myth.”

“And he’s probably right.”

“He’s seen it.” Sylzenya pointed to Elnok.

“More than likely a trick of the eye,” he replied.

Her eyes widened as she turned to him, anger welling inside her chest. “What? But you told me?—”

“See, even he understands the situation.” Nyla looked to Elnok. “My apologies, Prince Elnok. She had one of the worst things possible happen to her the other day, so I would take these words of hers with a grain of salt.”

“ Nyla !”

“Sylzenya, you’re not acting like yourself right now and you know it,” she replied, “If the High One isn’t giving you a cure right now, then we should trust that choice. And this quest for Aretta’s Willow… the vision…” Her friend sighed, “You lost so much blood when you used the roots.”

Fingers digging into her robe’s fabric, Sylzenya said, “You think I hallucinated? Made it all up in my head?”

Nyla gave her a look that sent her blood boiling—a look of pity.

Elnok stepped to Sylzenya’s side. “I know I’ve given Sylzenya quite the task since my foolish entrance yesterday. She wished to seek your counsel, and it seems she’s received her answer.”

Her breath caught as his hand touched her lower back, tracing circles, causing her skin to pimple and face to flush, her anger growing as she turned to tell him to back away?—

She paused. He wasn’t tracing circles.

It was a message.

S-T-O-P.

He didn’t look at her, keeping his focus on Nyla, continuing to trace the letters over and over again.

“Right, Sylzenya?” he asked.

Realization draped over her like her heavy green cloak. Nyla, her best friend, the person she told everything to, had lived through some of her harshest of days and experienced the brightest of moments with… couldn’t be trusted.

“Tell the High One, Sylzenya. Promise me?” Nyla pleaded.

Ever since her Kreena Rite, nothing was the same. This damned poison in her veins changed everything. She wasn’t sure how much more loss she could manage.

Turning to her friend, she offered a feigned smile, an act she knew so well, but never did she use it with Nyla.

“You’re right,” Sylzenya finally said.

Elnok stopped his tracing.

Sylzenya continued, “But please, let me be the one to tell him? It wouldn’t look well for me if you did it in my place. I’d much rather face it straight on, as I know I should.”

Nyla’s dipped brows relaxed, her thinned mouth curving into a warm grin. “Of course.”

“Thanks,” Sylzenya said, her spit thickening as she fought back the choke in her throat. “I always know I can speak to you about anything.”

Her friend embraced her once more. “I love you, Syl. You’re going to get your power back, and everything will be as it once was, alright?”

Nothing’s going to be the same after this.

How is it that her friend said those words yesterday and now sung a different tune? Sylzenya tightened her hold on Nyla, looking to the green willows for answers. A lifeless breeze returned her question.

“I believe he’s still in the temple,” Sylzenya said as she backed away. “Prince Elnok, my apologies, but we’ll do one more stop before we head back to the village.”

“Very well,” he replied, his face stoic.

“May Aretta bless you both,” Nyla said as she bowed, two hands placed over her heart. “Oh, and please, take a plum. They should be far better than yesterday’s.”

They both accepted the gift and walked back through the willow grove. Golden light flew through the air, swirling around Kreenas. Sylzenya’s head ached until they finally left and arrived at the main dirt path leading back to the temple.

“I suppose you were right,” Sylzenya whispered.

Elnok sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“What, no humiliating comeback? No ‘I told you so’?”

“No.”

She turned to him, his face burdened with something terrible and haunting.

“I could see how difficult that was, and yet you did it anyways. Though I know it benefits you to do so, it also helps me and why I’m here. So… thank you.”

Sylzenya rubbed her thumb along the smooth skin of the fruit. “Why are you here, Elnok?”

His frown deepened, fingers curling into the plum, the skin pulling and stretching.

“A dear friend of mine is sick,” he said, a quiver in his voice, “Dying, to be precise. The sickness taking over the continent has no cure, but I mean to find one.” He let out a breath. “I can’t let Orym die.”

Sylzenya could hear it in his voice, feel it in his breaths. He was desperate to save his friend, the same way she was desperate to spare her people. Maybe even more so.

“You must really love him.”

“He’s the brother I’d always hoped for.”

Before she could respond, he bit into the plum, and then—he fell to his knees and screamed.

Sylzenya threw her plum to the ground as she rushed to him. He screamed again, deep and cracked. She called his name, but he didn’t respond, as if he couldn’t hear her—as if he was somewhere else entirely.

Just like the wine ceremony.

“ Tosh, stop! Please, I swear, just stop! ”

“It’s ok,” Sylzenya soothed as she kneeled beside him, the moist soil seeping into her white robe. “Everything’s ok, Elnok, I promise.”

He dry heaved. Sylzenya quickly gathered his thick hair and held it back as he released everything onto the ground. Coughing, he caught himself with his hands, a deep sob rumbling through him.

“It’s ok,” Sylzenya said again, instinctively rubbing his back in gentle circles. It was strangely uneven, but not just from muscle… scars, perhaps. Many of them. “You’re going to be ok. Nothing’s going to hurt you here.” Her heart beat fast as she furrowed her brow. “I promise.”

The way she said it… how much she meant it… it surprised herself.

“ Please, please. ” He whimpered into the dirt, spit and plum dripping from his mouth. “Make it stop, please. ”

His breaths started to even out, so she kept rubbing his back. Slowly, he repositioned and sat down, away from his vomit, leaning into her touch. She moved closer, placing herself in between his legs, combing his hair and stroking his face, the same way her mother did when Sylzenya was frightened during summer storms.

“You’re ok,” she whispered.

He took a few more shuddered breaths. Taking her hand into his, he pressed her palm against his tear-stained face.

“Is it over?” he asked, his voice small and quiet.

“Yes, it’s over,” Sylzenya whispered back.

He finally opened his eyes. They were bloodshot, and yet, his green irises seemed brighter. Blinking rapidly, he sat up straighter, brows raising as he rubbed his thumb along her knuckles, sending shivers along her skin.

“Sylzenya… my apologies, I don’t… I’m not sure why this keeps happening.”

Sylzenya looked at the plum on the ground.

Perhaps some fruit from the gardens would do him well, the High One had said, see to it you provide him some of our best today, will you?

Something twisted in her gut.

“I’m not sure, but we can come back to the temple tomorrow,” she replied, “Right now, let’s just get some food into you and some rest.”

Purple and crimson sky met them as they returned to the inn. Helena, the innkeeper, prepared another salted rice bowl and boiled potatoes for Elnok. They situated themselves back in their single room, the rope and sheet hung between them. He didn’t speak as he sat on his bed. She let him eat in peace, tending to the villagers in the plaza, retelling the origin story of Aretta and Distrathrus just as the High One requested.

But it didn’t matter if the High One found her worthy in this way, her preaching was only meant to keep his suspicions buried in the ground. She was going to find the compass so her people could have hope and a future.

And she knew where to start their search.