Page 16

Chapter 16

Everything’s Changed

E lnok woke early the next morning and helped Helena make breakfast. The innkeeper had been nervous at first with him being in a space without Sylzenya’s presence, afraid the “curse” might awaken if she wasn’t there to stop him. But eventually she relaxed, making jokes and telling stories of her childhood as she taught him how to knead dough and fry an egg on a skillet. She even shared a few stories of Sylzenya as a child, such as the time where she chased a chicken into a lake, nearly drowning the poor creature. Apparently, she’d returned with it alive and well, although she was soaking wet with scratches covering her arms and face.

He found himself smiling, only to remind himself how his crew might be faring at this moment. They were in Vutror’s castle, so they would have access to food and clean water, but it wasn’t much compared to the vast amount of foods Helena prepared for her small breakfast nook. It was a strange mix of feelings—how he hated this kingdom and yet found joy in a moment like this.

He thanked her for the help and returned to his and Sylzenya’s room with a plate of hot eggs, chilled fruit, seared greens, a couple slices of wheat bread with butter, and a hot tea.

Decadence.

“Morning,” he announced as he opened the door, “Helena said rose tea was your favorite, so?—”

“Can you knock ?” Sylzenya yelled as she pulled one of the sheets over her.

Elnok smiled as he sauntered to his side of the room. “There’s a lock for a reason, you know.”

“You’re horrible.”

“Opportunistic.”

She shuffled behind the curtain, grumbling to herself.

“Did you say rose tea?” she asked.

“I did.”

She pulled the curtain away, her mouth gaping and eyes wide. She wore the Kreena robe she had on when he’d arrived. Old and bloodied. Beautiful yet stained with her pain.

“What… what is this?” she asked.

“It’s called breakfast.” He smirked. “And also a thank you. I’m afraid I’ve been quite the handful the past two days.”

“Oh, Elnok, you didn’t have to.”

“Better take it now before I change my mind.” His knuckles brushed along hers, sending a warmth into his hand and up his arm.

She laughed, a genuine, hearty sound that made his chest ache. Slowly releasing his grip on the plate and cup, he breathed in her excitement?—

No.

He quickly took a step back, face burning. This was a mission, and he needed to focus. No need to form any sort of attachment with a woman he would never see again.

“It’s barely a fair trade,” he continued, “but it’s the least I can do.”

Her brows creased and her nostrils flared as a sad smile sat on her lips. “Thank you.”

They stood there for another breath. He memorized the lines on her face—the ones drawn on her forehead when upset, the others at the corners of her eyes when she smiled.

“Anyways.” She coughed, letting the curtain drape back across the room, “We’ll go back to the temple today and see about the compass.”

“Is there a reason you won’t give me any more details than that?” he asked as he lifted his shirt over his head, tossing it on the bed before grabbing a fresh black tunic.

“Perhaps.” She poked through the curtain. “Don’t you trust me?—?”

Her eyes dropped to his naked torso. It shouldn’t fucking matter, and yet, he couldn’t help but flex his stomach muscles—if only a little—enjoying the way his body seemed to please her.

He placed a hand on his hip and quirked a brow. “Do you ever knock?”

“Hard to do with curtains.”

Elnok took the curtain and whipped it across her face. She laughed. They finished preparing for the day and left the inn with full stomachs, a sensation Elnok still found strange.

Sylzenya thankfully interrupted his thoughts, “If anyone asks, we’ll say we only made it through half the temple yesterday and you wanted to know more about Aretta’s power. No one will question an outsider’s desire for such knowledge.”

“I’m not surprised,” he muttered.

She stopped, head tilting back as she gazed at the temple’s high sandstone walls. “I think I’m only just starting to realize how prideful of a people we are.” She dropped her gaze to the dirt, wringing her robe with her hands. “Everything seems to keep changing, and I’m not sure what to do with it.”

His throat closed and his hands shook.

Ten years ago, he’d said such similar words.

He’d been an apprentice to a blacksmith, the only occupation he could find after he escaped Vutror’s dungeons. It was grueling work for a sixteen-year-old, his back always sore, fingers scraped and bleeding every hour. If a customer ever proved dissatisfied, his master would hit him in the face. One hit for every complaint. Elnok had accepted it, telling himself it was better than the torture his brother had dealt him. And, after the shop had closed, he could at least sit on the cliffside and watch the ocean waves, smelling the brine of the sea.

Even then, nothing could stop the nightmares. His mother’s and father’s bleeding necks when he’d found them in their bed, Tosh’s torture as he swore Elnok was trying to steal the throne, and his master’s beady eyes every time he hit him.

Elnok had enough.

One day, he missed his shift and sat atop the cliffside. He sat for what felt like hours, knowing his master would come looking for him soon. The jagged rocks below had stuck up like spears. It was a long fall to a quick death, and then the pain would finally stop.

As he was about to step off, a voice called out to him.

“Fantastic day for a swim, innit?”

Elnok stopped, turning around to find a boy not much older than him. Moppy brown hair, wild hazel eyes, and a smile bigger than any he’d ever seen.

“But from this height, it may not be as enjoyable,” the boy continued, “Why don’t you join me down at shore? Maybe we can catch some fish while we’re at it?”

Elnok stared, not knowing what to say. But the boy didn’t seem to mind, extending his hand, a fishing pole made of wood and string in his hand.

“Come on,” the boy persisted, “I could use a hand.”

On their way to the shore, he’d introduced himself as Orym. They failed to catch any fish.

They traveled to a different town after, living off of other’s scraps, learning the art of stealing to keep themselves full and somewhat satisfied. A few months later, Elnok told Orym he’d escaped the dungeons, but he never told him he was Vutror’s lost prince, telling him he’d been a typical convict instead.

“You were framed for your parents’ murder ?” Orym asked.

“Yes. After I escaped, everything changed so fast. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now.”

Orym had wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “To be honest, Elnok, I wouldn’t know either. But I do know this, I’m grateful to have met you. And I’m even more grateful to call you a friend.”

Elnok’s vision blurred as he spun his gold ring around his finger.

“I’m sorry,” Sylzenya said, “ it’s a stupid thought to linger on?—”

“It isn’t,” Elnok replied, “It’s the truth, and oftentimes, waiting to accept change can hinder us from moving forward. But you aren’t one to ignore such things, are you, Sylzenya?”

Her deep blue eyes found his.

“Something tells me you aren’t either,” she whispered, her hands no longer scratching at her robe, her body heat touching his skin.

His hands stopped shaking. A strong instinct coursed through him to slide his palm up her arm, to let her know she wasn’t alone.

“We better keep moving,” he said, forming his hands into fists, Orym’s sick eyes flashing through his vision, “My friend doesn’t have much longer to live.”

Sylzenya straightened. “Right. Of course.”

They entered the temple, the priestesses and guards elated about Elnok’s desire to learn more about their goddess. They ushered them in quickly, telling short tales of how their goddess had blessed them through their own difficulties—providing food, fresh water, and days of pure bliss. Elnok’s patience wore thinner with each story; how ignorant did one have to be to speak to someone whose people were at the mercy of famine, drought, and sickness?

Sylzenya requested privacy so they might honor Aretta in the altar room. The priestess and guard who’d followed agreed, taking their leave back down the willow-infested hallway.

He and Sylzenya were alone.

“Well played,” he whispered.

“I’ll take my payment in form of another breakfast.”

“Consider it done.”

She smiled. His face warmed.

Yellow stained-glass spanned the ceiling, the sandstone walls at least five stories tall. In the middle of the room stood the largest tree Elnok had ever seen. Which, he decided, wasn’t saying much considering he hadn’t seen many trees until stepping foot into Estea.

“And this isn’t the healing tree?” he asked, a thin line of hope running along his veins.

“This is the great willow; we’re able to commune with our goddess through its roots.” She pointed to the massive roots protruding from the ground like waves on the shore. “It’s rare for her to respond. Even when I did it a few days ago, I’m not sure if it was her or some specter of herself appearing as a bird.”

Elnok’s eyes widened. “A few days ago? This doesn’t happen to be the rite your friend was talking about?” He approached her from behind. “The one where you almost died ?”

“Of course not.”

Her mask faltered.

Elnok narrowed his gaze. “Whatever plan you have, we’re not doing it if it’s going to result in my guide bleeding out on me.”

Sylzenya huffed a breath. “What I did three days ago was… foolish. I admit it. But this is different. All I’m going to try and do is connect with these roots to see if the compass is in the tree. If I can’t, then things stay just as complicated as ever. But if I can, and if I’m right ,” she paused, turning to him, “then we’re one step closer to finding Aretta’s Willow.”

“And why do you think it’s in this tree?”

“I mean, look at it. It’s huge, ancient— I’m starting to question why I didn’t think this would be it from the start.”

“So this is based off a hunch?”

She shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“ Ridiculous ,” he breathed. “I see why you deigned not to tell me this earlier.”

“Fine. How about we go around and knock on every single tree in this temple until we find the one that doesn’t sound as hollow as the rest?”

He crossed his arms. “If it’s in place of harming yourself, then I might prefer it.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not even how trees work.”

“What, like I should know that?”

“I thought time was running out?” Sylzenya snapped.

“That doesn’t mean you should go sacrificing yourself to get a fucking lead that may not even exist.”

“Do you want your friend to live or not?”

The hairs on his neck stood, a chill running along his arms. Yenna had made it clear before he left—Orym had less than a week.

“You don’t have your magic,” he finally said, “Isn’t that why you needed your friend? Because she could connect to your goddess, or however that works?”

She took a deep breath. “Miracles are always possible, Your Highness.”

“Miracles are myths.”

“Then allow me to show you your first one.”

The tenacity in her eyes said it all. She was just as stubborn as Orym, an idealistic view of life that was both infectious and infuriating. Orym and Sylzenya both carried an optimism he never could. And while he found it bothersome and foolish, he couldn’t help but admire it.

“Just stay in one piece,” he finally said.

Sylzenya smiled. “I will.”

Clenching his teeth, he backed away from the tree as Sylzenya kneeled to the floor. Closing her eyes, she let out four deep breaths. Her whispers echoed along the walls, the vast willow seeming to watch expectantly.

His breaths shortened as she placed her hands on the roots. Moments passed, and nothing happened. She grunted. Still, nothing. Sweat started dripping down her back.

“Sylzenya,” he said, stepping forward, “Let’s think of something else?—”

“Wait!” she demanded, a crack in her scar breaking, a drop of blood joining the sweat.

He shook his head as he approached her. “You’re starting to bleed. Time to stop?—”

Suddenly, a golden ray of light sparked from the ground and twisted around her arms. Her yell pierced his ears, then a strong wind rushed through the room, the gale forcing him to his knees. The light flowed like a fishing line, its tip sharp as it speared her back, slicing across the cut and opening her skin.

“ Sylzenya, stop !”

But she only kept yelling, her magic flickering in and out of existence. Sucking in as much air as he could, he stood to his feet, engaging all muscles as he ran to her.

But then everything stopped. Elnok halted as Sylzenya released her hold of the tree. She turned to him, tears in her eyes, words sitting on her tongue.

She collapsed.