Page 6

Chapter 6

A Plan

W aves rocked the royal vessel as Elnok balanced a plate of grilled fish in his hand. His brother’s crew did a fair enough job pretending the long-lost Prince of Vutror didn’t just board the ship with his group of ragged thieves two days ago, but wary eyes found him nonetheless, their whispers just loud enough to carry on the wind.

I heard he went mad after the king and queen’s death.

I heard he’d always coveted his brother’s crown.

I heard he killed a guard during his imprisonment.

Rumors tossed to and fro like the sea crashing into the ship, but Elnok had little care for such talk. If they believed him to be the one who was mad, then so be it. After he found the healing tree in Estea, he’d never see these people again, for he had no intention of reclaiming his royal position. All he needed was his crew in good health, and he would be satisfied.

“Pay no mind to them, Your Majesty,” the woman steering the ship called from above. “They’re just bored, is all.”

Elnok took a bite of the fish, the taste of salt and the sea causing his stomach to grumble for more. He’d been approaching a week since he’d eaten anything that wasn’t dried seaweed.

“And what of you, Captain?” Elnok inquired.

The woman smiled, black hair sweeping across her deeply tanned face.

“Difficult to find boredom when steering this hefty of a ship.”

“There are days that require far less effort, I’m sure.”

She raised a brow. “I was told you’d been killed by pirates.”

Elnok swallowed another bite of fish. “A worthy conclusion.”

“Not really,” the captain replied, “because if you were able to escape those Vutrorian dungeons as a young lad, then I found it hard to believe one of those lousy groups of marauders brought your end.”

Elnok huffed a laugh, but then a cabin door slammed open, and his heart stalled in his chest.

Across the deck stood his brother, the King of Vutror. Tosh’s eyes were wide and bloodshot, the remnants of wine dripping from his mouth, staining his white satin shirt. Elnok pulled a dagger from his belt and flipped it in his hand. Everyone on the ship ceased their work. Blood pumping loudly in his ears, Elnok took a step back, the plate of fish in his hands falling to the deck, shattering into pieces.

“ He’s going to steal it from me ,” Tosh yelled from across the deck.

Grab your sword.

But Elnok couldn’t move. After all these years of training his body to obey in any circumstance, his arms and legs refused. No longer did he smell the brine of the sea, but that of damp stone. And no longer were there open skies with passing clouds but dark gray bricks and a rod of hot steel.

No longer was he a grown man, but a scared boy.

“Tosh, get back inside.” The Dynami’s thunderous voice came from inside the cabin.

The large Estean man walked out of the double doors, approaching Tosh like he was a newly caught fish about to slip from his grasp. But Tosh didn’t respond as he drank the last of his wine, throwing the glass on the deck.

Fight. Run. Do something, dammit!

“He says nothing to deny it,” Tosh shouted, “But I’ll burn the truth out of you, won’t I, Elnok?”

Elnok stood motionless, sweat pouring down his neck, the scars on his back searing with dark memories.

“Tosh, that’s enough ,” the Dynami said, grabbing his wrist.

Tosh’s eyes grew wild. “Away from me, Kharis, this isn’t about you?—”

“Tosh, listen to me?—”

“I will not be handled like a common peasant !”

A burst of light erupted from Kharis, blinding everyone on the deck. Elnok staggered back, his scars aching with pain as he hit a wall. Limbs nimble once more, he found a doorknob and ran into a musty closet, slamming the door and locking it.

A thin stream of light filtered through a small round window. Brooms, mops, and cloths were organized in a neat heap. Elnok took one of the cloths and wiped his sweat-stained face. Breaths ragged and heart pounding, he leaned both hands on the wall and shuddered. His back still burned, memories of his time in Vutror’s dungeons on the cusp of drowning him. Tosh stoking an iron rod, the tip a bright orange.

No.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think on it. Not here.

Elnok removed his cloak and tunic, retrieving the pot of salve he’d stolen from a merchant three weeks ago. Dipping his fingers in the cool substance, he gently covered the rigid scars lining his upper and lower back. Flexible as he was, he could never reach the scars settled in the center, and so they continued to burn while the rest fell to ease with the salve.

He waited until Tosh’s shouts ceased before emerging from the closet, his tunic sticking to his back from the salve.

All eyes on deck turned to him.

Tosh and Kharis were gone.

“I told you I was going to kill you for getting on this ship, Elnok,” Orym wheezed as he laid on a cot in one of the ship’s main cabins.

“Quite the threat for someone who can barely lift their head,” Elnok replied.

Orym ignored him as Elnok helped Yenna with folding his friend’s dirty sheets and supplying him with new ones.

“If it wasn’t for him, you’d still be coughing up dust in the village’s infirmary, and I’d still be feeding you whatever kind of disgusting gruel we scrounged that day,” Yenna scolded.

“Don’t encourage his behavior,” Orym retorted.

Yenna’s hands stopped their work. “Talk to me like that again, and I’ll let that Dynami handle you instead.”

Orym’s pale face stained red.

“Apologies, Yenna, it’s just…” He trailed off as he locked eyes with Elnok. “I was told your brother threatened to burn you.”

“He’s never been the best with his words,” Elnok replied, ignoring the way his back still ached.

“Has he done so before?”

Elnok shrugged.

“ Elnok .”

He raised a brow as he replied, “Orym.”

His friend sighed. “Yenna, can you give us a moment?”

The nurse eyed Elnok as she left the room.

“We need this ship docked at the next closest port,” Orym said as the door closed with a thud.

Elnok continued to fold the sheets. “Are you in need of something this ship doesn’t have to offer?”

“You told me you were a fugitive of the king.”

“I was.”

“You’re a fucking royal of the Rogdul line. You lied to me.”

“Omitting information that no longer reflects my life isn’t lying.”

“Can you just be real with me for one godsdamn moment, Elnok?” Orym snapped, his brown eyes wide, “Ten years we’ve lived our lives on the run and not once have you mentioned your family. I never pushed because I assumed you would tell me when you were ready, but now I see it for what it’s always been.” He turned his pale face to the ceiling.

“And what is that?”

“You never really trusted me.”

Elnok scoffed, “I’m putting my life on the line so this sickness doesn’t kill you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t need to.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I care , Orym,” Elnok replied, the sheet he’d been folding now in a clump on the floor. “I never talked about my family because I wanted to forget them—needed to. But if it really means that much, I’ll let you know that after my parents were murdered, my brother drank himself mad and aimed all his anguish towards me.”

Orym opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped, eyes softening.

“So when I escaped,” Elnok continued, “and found you and our crew, I swore I’d never look back.”

His friend took a wheezing breath. Blood dribbled from the side of his mouth and down his chin as his brows dipped.

“What did your brother do to you?” he whispered.

Elnok said nothing, allowing the silence to be his answer. Orym gave him a knowing look, his eyes roaming to Elnok’s back—his scars.

“He’s a cunt, then,” Orym growled.

Elnok huffed a breath. “I’ve never taken to using one of my favorite parts of a woman as an insult quite like you have.”

His friend paused, a small smile. “Fine. A bastard.”

Elnok nodded. “A cunt-ish bastard.”

Orym sat up, his laughter turning into a fit of watery coughs.

“Even cunt-ish bastards die some day, you know,” Orym said.

Elnok stiffened.

He continued, “I don’t think I would’ve laughed half as often during this godsdamned famine if it wasn’t for you and all our misadventures.” He paused. “But good things must come to an end, even if it’s sooner than we had hoped. And just because I’m gone doesn’t mean your life stops too, Elnok.”

“What about Yenna?” Elnok asked, ignoring the way his chest squeezed far too tight.

“She’ll be fine.”

“The woman clearly isn’t made for sea travel. She’s puked every other hour at this point.”

“Then let’s get docked at the next port?—”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

His friend’s face turned a pale red.

“None of us are ready to say goodbye to you, and we don’t have to. I’m going to find this healing tree and you’re going to be cured, alright? And right now, you’re only wasting what little breath you have left by trying to convince me otherwise. Best we spend these last few hours together in shared happiness instead of anger.”

Orym’s gaze softened right as the door opened, the rest of their crew spilling in with plates of fresh fish and watered-down ale. Yenna joined shortly after, wiping what must’ve been a remnant of bile from her mouth as she smiled at Orym. He smiled back. Elnok joined in the eating and drinking with his crew, retelling old stories of their comings and goings along the coast over the past decade.

Laughter filled Elnok’s heart until Kharis entered the cabin, his green and brown leather armor still on, the yellow stone on his chest aglow.

“Excuse me for the interruption, Prince Elnok,” the Estean warrior announced, “but it’s time we discuss our plans before our departure.”

Everyone stiffened at the Estean’s intrusion, but Elnok bade everyone to continue telling their stories. He followed Kharis to the main deck, the hot sun baking an intense heat into the wood of the ship. They approached the side of the vessel, the Dynami resting his forearms on the railing. A brisk wind swept Elnok’s hair across his face, so he fastened it at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me what you know of Estea,” Kharis said, his golden-blonde hair waving in the breeze.

“I thought you wanted to discuss a plan.”

“I do. Understanding your perception of Estea will help.”

Despite the sun glimmering along the calm waters, a dark storm cloud slowly approached from the horizon. All Elnok wanted was to spend these last few moments with his crew, but he joined the warrior and leaned his arms on the railing.

“Your kingdom only trades with Vutror because of the special weapons they provide. In return, your kingdom provides Vutror with shipments of food and water.” Elnok paused, considering the days he’d spent with dust in his teeth and his stomach growling for anything other than seaweed. “But this also means your people willingly leave the rest of the continent in famine when you have the means to do otherwise.”

He expected Kharis to counter, but the warrior only stared forward, his dark eyes focused on the approaching storm cloud.

“What else?” he asked.

“I’ve heard rumors it’s your women who tend to your crops through magical means,” he replied, “but it’s Dynameis like yourself that are the only beings capable of surviving Lhaal Forest.”

“And what of the monsters that dwell in Lhaal?”

“There’s little I’m certain about. Only that legend says those monsters were born of the bloated earth and carved with the intent to kill. And, if it weren’t for these creatures, the people of this continent would’ve taken your people to war when the hints of famine and drought showed themselves ages ago. You Dynameis would’ve killed them with ease, but they would’ve done it anyways.”

Kharis’ expression remained unchanged. “Would you have joined such wartime efforts?”

“No.”

His brows raised as his mouth thinned. “Interesting.”

“What is?”

“You speak about Estea with disdain, but you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to fight us if given the chance?”

“I’m not a fool, Dynami. While war against your kingdom ushers excitement just as much as strong ale and passionate cries for blood, it would only mean a quick death. Yet, I imagine that’s what most people are desperate for nowadays—a way to feel like they did something at the end of it all.” Elnok paused, voice lowering, “Not just sit in this dust and slowly waste away.”

“And that is what you would prefer? To slowly waste away, as you say?”

Elnok paused, the salty breeze filling his lungs.

“I wish to survive.”

They stood in silence as the storm cloud expanded its reach across the sky.

“It will take a day and a half to make it through Lhaal Forest. While the monsters will prove an obstacle, it’s Estea that will be far more dangerous for you. So if you truly wish to survive, then you will heed my warnings with utmost caution.”

Despite Elnok’s efforts, sweat formed on the back of his neck.

“First, the High One, our leader, will not be pleased that you are arriving in Tosh’s place.”

“You said he wouldn’t accept anyone besides those of royal blood.”

“Correct, but it doesn’t mean he wants to undergo trade revisions with someone who’s been supposedly dead for ten years. He’ll more than likely delay the meetings and gather as much information about you as he can, but I believe this will work well for what we need to accomplish.”

“We’re looking for a tree that heals people, and yet you speak as if we’re inciting a revolution.”

“Perhaps we are.”

Elnok’s muscles tightened as he pushed back from the rail.

“Our goddess, Aretta, died centuries ago, leaving the High One as her vessel of sorts. But if her tree remains, then this could challenge his position; it would mean a piece of her survived in the battle between her and her brother, Distrathrus.”

“Seems like information you could’ve shared with me two days ago.”

“I didn’t think such a factor would deter you.”

Elnok worked his jaw back and forth. “It might if it means this is an impossible task.”

“I wouldn’t be considering this if it was.”

Elnok leaned back on the rails. “Then being under your High One’s scrutiny sounds like a disadvantage.”

“Not entirely. Since Vutror is an allying kingdom, you have free access to parts of the temple many of our people don’t. Yes, you will have guards with you, but simply be under the guise you’re interested in our history as you search for information about the goddess’ tree; it will be your first time in Estea so I doubt it will cause much suspicion if you play it right.” Kharis straightened, leaning an elbow on the railing as a smile peeled across his mouth. “And given your occupation this last decade, I’m guessing you’re rather talented at such games.”

“So it would be folly to inquire this High One about the mythical tree?”

Kharis’ smile faded as he tapped a finger on the railing. “You said it yourself, Estea has the means of providing for all of Druenia if we so wished. And yet, we don’t.”

Elnok raised a brow.

The Dynami continued, his gaze narrowed, “While the High One is a pious man, he is prideful above all else. Your worries mean little to him. All he wants are the Vutrorian weapons. Wield that knowledge carefully, Prince Elnok, for even I’m uncertain why he covets them so greatly.”

Elnok’s brow creased. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Be wary of our kingdom’s Kreenas.”

“I’m sorry… a what?”

“A Kreena. It’s what we call Estean women who use our goddess’ power to produce food and water. They’re the most pious of our people. They’ve been dedicated to our goddess since they were young and know little else. My people, especially the Kreenas, are steeped in tradition; if you question anything in regards to our kingdom in front of them, they might report you to the High One.”

“They sound like my personal hell.”

“Except they’re the most educated in subjects such as Aretta’s Willow. Gaining the favor of one could be a tremendous help in finding the tree,” Kharis countered.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Elnok replied. “So that’s the plan then? We make it through Lhaal, your High One will observe me ruthlessly for days, and I’ll scour the temple to find information about the tree?” Elnok tipped his head to the sky. “And what will you be doing through all of this?”

Kharis smiled. “Doing what I can to make the High One’s observations of you… difficult.”

Elnok couldn’t help but smile in return.

“We’ve only got a week left before your friend’s sickness takes him.” Kharis held out his hand, “But I believe that in our joint effort, we can find Aretta’s Willow.”

Elnok stared at the open palm, still wary of the warrior’s motive in all of this, for he knew even the most noble of acts were spurred by personal gain. He needed to be cautious in case betrayal lay ahead. Either way, he needed to get into Estea to find the tree, and there was no way of making it past the forest’s monsters without a Dynami.

Elnok shook his hand.

“Here’s to finding that tree, Dynami.”

The warrior smiled, “Call me Kharis.”