Page 19 of The Curse Between Us

The sun was just beginning to rise as Edric made his way down to the stables, the first light of dawn casting long shadows on the stone floors. The halls were quiet, still, but as he passed through them, a few attendants shot him curious glances, whispering amongst themselves, but none dared to stop him or ask where he was headed. His boots clicked loudly against the cold stone tiles, and the noise seemed to echo through the otherwise empty corridors, ruining any illusion of a quiet exit. Edric sighed under his breath, adjusting the heavy pack that weighed down his shoulder. If nothing else, he had learned over the years that some things—like his presence—were impossible to conceal.

As he approached the stable doors, Edric's gaze swept over the familiar sight of his horse, a strong and capable steed that had borne him through many journeys, some far more perilous than this one. He had made up his mind to travel alone to Eskarven, to reach Zephyr and offer whatever aid he could. He didn’t want to cause a stir, didn’t want to draw attention to himself. There was so much going on, so many pressing matters to handle, but Zephyr's kingdom was in trouble, and Edric would not sit idly by.

He was in the midst of saddling his horse when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. Instantly, Edric’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword at his hip, his muscles tensing, ready for action. But as he whipped around, his grip loosened when he saw Marsh standing there, grinning as always, with Eileen and Victor right behind him.

“Easy there,” Marsh said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Edric exhaled sharply, his heart still hammering in his chest. “What is it?” he asked, irritation creeping into his voice, though it was quickly tempered by relief. If they had come with more bad news, with more reports of strange happenings or further trouble, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it. His patience had worn thin.

“Everything is fine.” Eileen stepped forward, her expression softening as she regarded him, her gaze kind but stern. “Except for you riding off to Eskarven unescorted.”

Edric scowled at her, tightening the straps on his saddle. “I’ve crossed the mountains alone before,” he grumbled, trying to keep his tone steady. He had done it many times—why should this time be any different?

“Not all the way,” Victor pointed out with a smirk. “And certainly not since the pits have opened in the road.”

Edric’s jaw tightened. He had heard about the pits—strange, deep fissures appearing in the roads, swallowing wagons and sending merchants fleeing in terror. The earth itself seemed to be shifting, and Edric knew he probably shouldn't ride through that without a proper escort.

“You can’t go out there on your own,” Marsh insisted, folding his arms across his broad chest. His eyes were serious now, concern flashing beneath his usual playful demeanor. “We need you safe, Your Majesty. Eskarven may need you, but Rafria needs you too.”

Edric’s frustration melted into something softer, something more vulnerable. He understood the concern, but he still hated being treated as if he couldn’t handle it. Still, his duty to his people weighed heavily on him, and he couldn’t deny that the risks had grown far too great to travel alone.

“Fine,” he said with a sigh, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. “But I won’t take all of you. Someone needs to stay behind to help Alec and Herbert should anything happen in my absence.”

Victor’s face split into a grin, one eyebrow raised in knowing amusement. “Of course. We knew you would say that.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “So, you decide who rides with you to Eskarven, and the other two will remain here.”

Edric glanced between the three of them, his gaze lingering on each face. Marsh stood patiently, a half-smile on his lips as if waiting for Edric to make the decision. Victor, ever the smirker, leaned casually against the stall door, arms crossed in a relaxed stance. Eileen, however, was rocking slightly on the balls of her feet, her eyes gleaming with a quiet excitement. She had never been one to shy away from adventure.

The choice was clear.

“Eileen, with me,” Edric said, his voice firm. “Marsh, Victor, you will report to my brother in his office. I’m sure he’ll have plenty for you to do.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Victor saluted with a mock flourish, a wide grin spreading across his face. With a quick wink at Edric, he turned on his heel and left the stables, his footsteps echoing through the hall as he made his way out.

Marsh hesitated, then reached out to place a hand on Edric’s arm. The weight of his touch was firm and reassuring, a silent bond that they had shared for years. “Be careful,” Marsh said, his voice low. There was no mistaking the gravity in his tone. “We don’t know what it is that we’re facing.”

Edric swallowed thickly, his throat tightening at the sincerity in Marsh’s eyes. He had not had much time recently for his friends, between his constant trips to Eskarven and the myriad of responsibilities pulling him in every direction. Their concern for him, their care, only made the guilt rise in his chest.

“I will,” Edric replied quietly, then looked to Eileen, who had moved to stand beside him, the same fierce determination in her eyes. “And Eileen will watch out for me.”

“I will,” Eileen said firmly, nodding at Marsh as she shook his hand, her small frame appearing dwarfed next to the larger man.

“Best be on your way, then.” Marsh stepped aside, clearing the path to the stables’ exit. “Safe journey, Edric. Eileen.”

Edric gave a small nod, raising his hand to wave at Marsh, his heart heavy with the weight of the unknown. As they left the stables behind, the early morning air was crisp, the sky still a faint blue as dawn broke over the horizon. Eileen rode quietly by his side as they made their way through the castle grounds, the rhythmic clip-clop of their horses’ hooves filling the silence between them.

Eileen remained unusually quiet for the first stretch of their journey, but once they passed through the outer gate, she nudged her horse forward and came alongside Edric, her voice soft but unwavering.

“Alec will send word if anything happens,” she said. “You’re not leaving the people entirely helpless.”

Edric exhaled loudly, casting her an exasperated look. “How is it you know exactly what I’m thinking?”

“Because I know you,” she replied calmly, her eyes glinting with a knowing light. “And because anyone in your position would be thinking exactly the same thing.”

Edric’s thoughts turned to the jagged peaks ahead, the mountains that loomed larger with each passing mile. The terrain between Rafria and Eskarven was treacherous, but more than that, it was a land of memories—of things both bitter and sweet. He thought of Zephyr, of their complicated history, and how, despite the chaos, the land had shaped them both.

“The king of Rafria riding into Eskarven in a time of distress, not to conquer them at their weakest, but to offer what aid he can.” He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “How strange.”

Eileen’s gaze softened, the sunlight catching in her red hair as she shook her head. “It isn’t so simple anymore, my lord. The world itself is changing. Rafria and Eskarven are no longer enemies. What happens there is happening to us as well, just taking different forms. For better or for worse, we’re all in this together.”

Edric couldn’t help but smile, albeit a little wryly. “You sound like Zephyr.”

Unruffled, Eileen shrugged lightly. “I’ve always found him to be quite clever.”

“He is,” Edric agreed, the warmth in his chest growing as he thought of Zephyr. His heart quickened at the thought of him, but his mind was tempered with concern. The last thing he wanted was to imagine Zephyr in danger, to wonder what dark forces might be closing in around him while Edric was still so far away.

“So,” Eileen’s voice broke through his thoughts, a sly note in her voice as she looked at him. “Things are going well, then?”

Edric flushed, though it was more than the warmth of the sun beating down on him. His thoughts drifted to the meadow, the softness of Zephyr’s skin beneath his fingers, the way the king’s body had relaxed under his touch. The memory of their shared moments—intimate, tender, and unspoken—flooded him, and for a moment, he felt a warmth deep inside, despite the pressing uncertainty of their situation.

“You could say that,” Edric murmured, suddenly aware of how much he had missed Zephyr’s presence. His voice softened with a trace of teasing as he asked, “And you? How fares the valiant Dorothy?”

At the mention of her friend, Edric turned to her, a sympathetic grin tugging at his lips. Eileen sighed, her eyes going distant, lost in thought.

“She’s glad not to be risking her life on the battlefield every day, of course, but she’s also getting restless. She doesn’t know how not to be a soldier.”

Edric nodded, understanding completely. Many had found peace after the war, but peace came with its own struggles. Dorothy, so used to the rush of combat, had always been a warrior at heart. Now, with no battles to fight, the adjustment was harder than anyone had anticipated.

“She has a place among the Royal Guard, if she wishes it,” Edric offered, his voice quiet but earnest.

“I know.” Eileen shrugged moodily. “She says she means no offense to what I do, but that the Guard simply isn’t for her. All I’ve ever wanted was for her to be safe and happy, and while she’s certainly a great deal safer now that we’re no longer at war, sometimes I worry she’s far less happy.” She paused, the weight of her words settling between them. “How odd, to be discontent in a time of peace. But I understand it, and I do not know how to help her.”

Edric grimaced, feeling the pain of her unspoken worry. He reached out, patting her shoulder in a quiet show of sympathy. There was only so much any of them could do for Dorothy, but they could still listen, still offer support in whatever way they could.

“Well,” Edric said with a sigh, glancing ahead at the rugged path, “if the prophecy is correct, another war is coming. We may have need of Dorothy on a battlefield once more.”

Eileen gave a soft laugh, but it lacked humor. “I know,” she said, a new strain in her voice. “That’s what frightens me the most.”

She exhaled sharply, her gaze shifting to the horizon where the mountains loomed ahead. “Plenty and Abyss, their rivalry playing out with our lands as the battleground. I used to love the old tales, the drama of it all. But to imagine it all coming to a head, here and now...”

“I know,” Edric said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “It’s enough to make even the most valiant among us tremble.”

Eileen nodded, her expression thoughtful. “And yet here we are, riding right towards it.”

At that, Edric grinned, a sly smile curving his lips. “Would you have it any other way?”

“No.” Eileen’s smile mirrored his. “I wouldn’t.”

◆◆◆

The descent from the mountain pass into Eskarven felt unnervingly calm, a stark contrast to what Edric had anticipated. The drop in temperature, usually sharp and biting as they neared the borders of the kingdom, seemed almost muted this time. Edric looked at the sky above, the faintest traces of dawn coloring it with pale blues and pinks. Not a single snowflake drifted down from the heavens, and the air lacked the usual bite of Eskarven's winters.

Eileen, ever perceptive, noticed it too. She wrapped another layer of fabric around herself, but there was a frown etched on her face as she adjusted the second-heaviest cloak in her pack. “Is it not normally colder than this?” she asked, glancing at Edric with a mixture of curiosity and unease.

“Yes,” Edric replied, his voice tight, his eyes narrowing as he raised his face to the sky. “It is.”

He urged his horse forward, his mind racing. It was one thing to read about the odd changes in Eskarven—Zephyr’s messengers had sent reports, full of alarming details. But seeing it firsthand made it all the more troubling. The weather, the land, even the air—it was as if something was quietly, steadily eroding the stability of the kingdom.

They rode further west, moving smoothly over the thin cover of snow that barely clung to the ground. It wasn’t right. “And this snow is normally deeper,” Edric remarked, his voice heavy with the realization of just how far the changes reached.

Eileen was quiet for a moment, her gaze scanning the landscape around them, before she spoke again. “It’s like the crop failures,” she said quietly. “Or the sinkholes.”

Edric nodded, his jaw clenching as his thoughts turned inward. The comparison was unsettling. Eskarven, like Rafria, was suffering—but the wounds were different, the symptoms peculiar to each land. “I do not like this,” he murmured. The uncertainty was gnawing at him, tightening around his chest. “We ride hard for the castle.”

Eileen nodded fiercely, urging her horse into a faster pace. Without another word, they spurred their horses into a gallop, racing across the open area between the mountains and the castle. Edric’s thoughts, already on edge, only deepened as he felt the chill of the wind against his face. His mind wandered briefly to his unanswered letter, wondering if Zephyr had received it in time—or worse, if something had happened to him.

No. He wouldn’t allow himself to consider that.

As the gleaming walls of the castle finally came into view, Eileen let out a sigh of visible relief. Edric wasn’t the only one whose thoughts had taken a dark turn. “It appears intact,” she called out over the sound of their thundering hooves.

“Thankfully,” Edric replied under his breath, more grateful than he cared to admit. The sight of the castle’s imposing structure, though familiar, felt like an anchor in a sea of uncertainty.

They clattered across the bridge over the frozen river, the rhythmic sound of their horses’ hooves echoing across the silent expanse. Workers in the courtyard looked up, lifting their hands in greeting as they passed, and though Edric had dressed down to avoid drawing attention, a few of them likely recognized him. He waved absently to them, but his mind was focused entirely on the gates ahead. He was close now. He would see Zephyr.

As soon as they were within the castle’s walls, Edric dismounted swiftly, tossing the reins to a young stablehand without hesitation. His gaze scanned the courtyard, and though a number of Eskarvens were gathered to greet them, there was only one person he sought. His eyes locked on Zephyr, and in two swift strides, he closed the distance between them.

Without another thought, Edric swept Zephyr into his arms. The thick layers of fur and wool between them prevented any accidental contact, but for a moment, the simple act of holding his husband—the warmth, the solid strength of him—was all that mattered. Edric took in the familiar scent of Zephyr’s skin, the steady rhythm of his breathing. Zephyr’s face was lined with weariness, the fine lines around his eyes more pronounced than Edric remembered, but when Zephyr smiled, it was small and private, a smile meant only for Edric.

“Hello, Edric,” Zephyr said, his voice a quiet balm. “I am very glad to see you.”

Edric’s heart surged, but with it came a weight he couldn’t ignore. “And I you,” he murmured, his voice shaky as he held Zephyr close, not wanting to let go. “Zephyr, I was so worried—”

Zephyr winced, stepping back slightly. “Come inside,” he said, his voice edged with something darker now. He gestured to Eileen, who followed them wordlessly as Zephyr led them into the castle.

Inside, the warmth of the hearth greeted them, the fire blazing merrily in the small chamber. Eileen immediately held her hands out to the flames, a sigh of relief escaping her. Edric, however, was too preoccupied to pay attention to the heat. He took a seat at the round table where Zephyr sat beside him, Pierce and Clara filling the other places.

Zephyr laced his fingers together, his gaze shadowed as he turned to Edric. “In your letter, you spoke of strange happenings in Rafria,” he began, his voice heavy with an emotion Edric couldn’t quite place. “We have been experiencing them as well. The snow is less heavy than usual, and earlier this week, a great crack appeared in the floor of the catacombs beneath the temple.”

Edric inhaled sharply, his eyes flicking to Clara, whose expression betrayed no emotion. But there was something in her eyes—something like rage, or maybe regret. He frowned, turning back to Zephyr as he processed the news. “To strike at the very heart of the land,” he said slowly, his voice dark with understanding. “No one was harmed, I hope?”

“No.” Zephyr shook his head. “Fortunately not. But that is not all.” He looked at Pierce, who had abandoned his usual mischievous expression in favor of something more serious. “The springs in the mountains have turned thick and grey with ash. Our water stores are dangerously low.”

A chill, colder than the Eskarven air, swept through Edric at the words. Water was the lifeblood of any kingdom, especially one so reliant on its land. It was something that had to be preserved, guarded, fought for. And now, it was being poisoned. Edric looked at Eileen, who met his eyes with a stricken expression, the weight of their shared responsibility clear in her gaze. Without a moment’s hesitation, she nodded once, firmly, and threw him a crisp salute.

“Ride back to Rafria tomorrow,” he instructed her, his voice low and commanding. “Arrange a convoy with as many barrels of fresh water as can be spared. I entrust this task to you, Eileen.”

“Yes, my lord.” She bowed briefly before snapping her heels together, ready to carry out the order.

Turning back to the Eskarvens, Edric saw matching looks of shock on their faces. “You will simply—send us your water?” Pierce asked, confusion clouding his features.

“Edric, your generosity is unrivaled, but what if your people should have need of it?” Zephyr interjected, his voice a little softer now but still laced with concern.

Edric leaned forward, his eyes locked on Zephyr’s. Deliberately, he pressed his own leg against Zephyr’s under the table, the simple touch grounding him amidst the swirling storm of thoughts and fears. “We do not lack fresh water in Rafria. These events have shown that both our lands are suffering at the hands of the same enemy,” he said, his voice steady despite the unease he felt rising within him. “You are my husband, and while we have not officially joined our kingdoms together, I feel a duty to your people just as I do to my own. I will not let you or any of them risk death over a matter we have the potential to solve.”

Zephyr opened his mouth, then closed it again with a sharp click. He studied Edric for a long moment before finally nodding. “Very well. What can we do other than accept your gift with grace and gratitude?” He turned to Pierce. “See to it that Eileen is given the most comfortable accommodations for the night, and arrange for two of our own people to accompany her back to Rafria tomorrow.”

Edric nodded, the weight of his decision not lost on him. But as he spoke, Zephyr’s expression grew more serious. “Anything we can offer in return is yours. You only need tell us.”

Edric shook his head, his voice quiet. “As of yet, we are managing. Some of the crops have suffered, but we produce enough to absorb the blow.”

Clara abruptly stood from her seat, pacing the room with restless energy. “Your food, our water. Abyss strikes at us from both angles,” she said, her voice tight with frustration. “And according to King Zephyr, the earth itself has been damaged in your home as well?”

“Yes,” Edric replied, his thoughts returning to the pits that had opened along the road. “Though not in the temple.” He grimaced, thinking of Hadley’s likely reaction were something similar to happen in Rafria. “Along the road, several large pits have opened, slowing the flow of goods and people.”

“Another testing of its limits,” Zephyr murmured, his face pale, his hands locked tightly together. He drew in a deep breath, then turned to Edric, his eyes filled with something darker, something deeper. “Might my husband and I have a moment alone?”

“Of course,” Pierce replied, his tone lightening a little as he stood. He sent Edric a knowing wink as he held his arms out to Clara and Eileen. “I do not believe we had anything further to contribute.”

As the door shut behind them, Edric moved swiftly to Zephyr, his gloved hand resting lightly on his husband’s. The touch was barely more than a whisper against his skin, but it carried with it a thousand unsaid words.

Zephyr’s attempt at a smile was fleeting, but there was a sadness behind it that Edric couldn’t ignore. “We knew this might be coming,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with something unspeakable. “And yet now that it has—”

“Shh,” Edric whispered, his heart aching for him. He could feel the weight of Zephyr’s pain, could see it reflected in the quiet grief in his eyes. Edric removed his hand slowly and began to remove his glove, his gaze never leaving Zephyr’s.

“Edric—” Zephyr began, but Edric shook his head, determined.

“I need to know,” he muttered fiercely. He flexed his bare hand, squaring his shoulders as he looked at his husband. “May I?”

Zephyr met his eyes, no trace of fear in them, only trust. “Yes.”

Edric reached out, his fingers brushing over Zephyr’s thumb.

They both flinched as the familiar sting hit them. The pain, though less intense than before, still coursed through their veins, sending a sharp jolt through both of them. Edric withdrew his hand immediately, pressing it to his forehead as he fought to keep his composure.

“I’m sorry,” Zephyr whispered, his voice laced with guilt. “I had hoped—”

“So had I,” Edric admitted quietly, his chest tightening. “Whatever blessing was on us in that meadow does not extend this far, it seems.”

Edric stood in silence for a moment, his mind racing as he replayed the events of the past few hours. His gaze flickered from Zephyr to the window, his thoughts swirling. Surely, after all the months of cordial relations, of cautiously rebuilding the connections between their two kingdoms, they had touched at least once—some innocent handshake, perhaps, or even a gesture of solidarity. But no one had reported anything out of the ordinary. No one had complained of feeling ill or having strange reactions when in proximity to one another. And yet, something wasn’t right. It gnawed at him. He remembered the conversation Zephyr had had with Clara, where the High Priestess explained her theory that the royal bloodline made the incompatibility between him and Zephyr stronger. Edric let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head as he replayed the moment in his mind. For a brief, fleeting moment, he wished he had never become king. His life had been simpler when he was not responsible for the wellbeing of others, when he didn’t carry the burden of a prophecy he didn’t fully understand.

Zephyr’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. “I do not understand any of this,” he said, his tone tight with frustration. The king stood up suddenly, his chair scraping noisily against the stone floor as he moved toward the window, the weight of his thoughts pressing on him. “How does this all relate? What is the ultimate plan here?”

Edric watched him, feeling the heavy weight of his own unanswered questions pressing down on him. He slowly rose from his seat, moving to stand beside Zephyr. From this angle, he could see the rise and fall of Zephyr’s chest as he tried to steady his breath, the visible frustration in every part of him. “I wish I knew,” Edric murmured, trying to match Zephyr’s intensity, but knowing all too well that he didn’t have any more answers than his husband did. “I don’t know anything more than you, Zephyr.”

Zephyr swung around sharply, his gaze piercing and full of concern, the frustration still hanging in the air. “Indeed, you know less,” he said, his voice laced with quiet disbelief. “There is something I have not yet told you.”

Edric felt a chill creep up his spine, and his stomach clenched. “What is it?” he asked, though he feared the answer.

Zephyr hesitated, his face briefly going blank before he returned to the table. The weariness that Edric had seen earlier deepened, and Zephyr sank heavily into the chair, shoulders hunched as if the weight of his own thoughts was too much to carry alone. He stared at the table for a moment, his hands resting on the wooden surface as if searching for the right words. Finally, he looked up at Edric, his eyes darker, full of an emotion Edric couldn’t quite name. “I rode out to investigate the springs in the mountains. I took guards with me, and we collected samples to bring back to the academy.” He paused, exhaling slowly, and Edric felt the tension in the room grow thicker. “I bent down to gather some of the polluted water at the last spring... and Abyss spoke to me.”

Edric’s breath caught in his throat, his knees suddenly feeling weak. He reached out, grabbing the back of a chair for support. The words barely registered as he made a strangled noise of surprise. “What did it say?” he forced out, his voice hoarse with a mixture of disbelief and fear.

Zephyr’s gaze dropped to the floor as he ran a hand through his hair. “It knew me. It knew my name.” He swallowed heavily, the words catching in his throat as he looked out the window toward the distant mountains. The storm within him was obvious, his eyes haunted. “It thanked me for weakening the bars of its cage.”

Edric’s mind spun, his thoughts failing to keep up with the implications of Zephyr’s words. He couldn’t move, could hardly breathe. “We did that together,” he whispered, his voice trembling. He needed to grasp onto something solid, something logical. “Hadley and Clara told us, the prophecy... our marriage—”

Zephyr met his eyes then, his expression dark and resolute. “Yes. We did.”

Edric’s mind reeled. He could barely process what Zephyr had said. Abyss, the force they had unknowingly unleashed with their union, had spoken to him. That thought alone sent a ripple of terror through Edric. He felt a deep, irrational sense of dread, and yet beneath that fear was a gnawing need to understand. The pieces were coming together, but they didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense anymore.

As the initial shock ebbed away, replaced by a cold, hard understanding, Edric found himself standing beside Zephyr, his gloved hand reaching out to squeeze his husband’s shoulder. “That must have been terrifying,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady.

“It was.” Zephyr’s rueful smile only added to the weight Edric felt. He could see it in the lines around Zephyr’s eyes, in the way his shoulders were slumped with exhaustion. “The guards thought I was going mad. They heard me scream, but couldn’t hear Abyss’s voice. I haven’t told anyone else what I saw. I was afraid they might think me weak.”

“You are not weak,” Edric said quickly, the words tumbling out without thought. His eyes softened with empathy, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade into the background. “I would have swooned, had I been in your position. I think you were entitled to a good scream.”

Zephyr’s smile widened, and for the briefest moment, Edric could see the flicker of warmth that had been missing from his expression. “I would have caught you had you swooned,” Zephyr replied, the teasing light in his voice bringing a small measure of comfort.

“I know,” Edric said with a half-smile of his own, his heart lightening slightly despite the weight of their conversation. He squeezed Zephyr’s shoulder once more before reluctantly pulling away. An idea was beginning to form, but Edric didn’t want to act on impulse—not when everything was still so uncertain, not when they didn’t even know the full extent of the threat they faced.

“Would you be willing to ride back that way with me tomorrow?” Edric asked, his voice quiet but determined. He met Zephyr’s gaze with a clear, unwavering intent.

The smile slipped from Zephyr’s face, his expression shifting to one of concern. “What?”

Edric shrugged, trying to appear more nonchalant than he actually felt. He was tired of tiptoeing around the issue, of waiting for something to change on its own. “I’m tired of sitting back and waiting for this to come to us. I wish to meet Abyss head-on, or at the very least, witness its effects here,” he explained, his voice gaining strength.

Zephyr shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing with concern. “You are reckless,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a mix of worry and reluctant admiration. “But I admire you for it.” He sighed deeply, his gaze drifting toward the window once more. “Very well. I will show you where I had the encounter, but under no circumstances are you to touch the water.” The note of kingly authority in Zephyr’s voice was unmistakable, and despite the gravity of the situation, Edric couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Rising to his feet, Edric moved around the table, reaching down to tug Zephyr gently to his feet. “Come. Let’s have a look at your food and water stores, and I will see if I can offer any insight into how best to preserve them.”

◆◆◆

The morning light was still faint as Edric said his brief but heartfelt goodbye to Eileen. Her departure was not a simple task, and Edric felt a twinge of sorrow watching her ride out from the castle gates. The Eskarven guards accompanying her were unknown to him, but their bearing gave Edric confidence. They were both capable and sharp, and though Eileen was no stranger to danger, he knew she would be well protected on her journey back to Rafria. She turned in the saddle to offer him a crisp salute, her red hair catching the light as she led the group eastward. The mix of worry and pride stirred in Edric’s chest as he watched her disappear into the distance.

Zephyr’s voice broke through his thoughts, the sound of it gentle but firm. "She'll be safe with Dumah and Inias," he said, his eyes following Eileen’s retreating figure. With a wry smile, he added, "In fact, she'll likely be far safer than we are about to be."

Edric let out a short, humorless laugh, though there was little joy in it. The gravity of their mission ahead weighed heavily on him. He and Zephyr were dressed in riding attire, ready to set off on the next stage of their journey. His gaze lingered on the empty space where Eileen had been moments ago. She was gone now, and they were left to confront the unknown. Sighing, he swung himself into the saddle, his mind troubled by everything that lay ahead.

Zephyr mounted his horse shortly after, his expression unreadable as he settled into his seat. Edric turned to look at him, his heart aching with the quiet understanding between them. The distance between the two of them felt more pronounced now, as if the land they rode through had put an invisible wall between them and the comfort they once shared. The months of distant interactions with family and allies, of strained conversations and uncertain trust, had left their mark.

As they passed the gentle slope where Zephyr had taken him sledding on his first visit to Eskarven, Edric swallowed roughly. It had been a simpler time, or so it seemed now in the midst of everything that had followed. There had been no dire warnings, no polluted water, no sinister forces waiting in the shadows. How naive they had been, not realizing the storm that would soon consume them both.

Beside him, Zephyr’s gaze lingered on the same spot, and Edric suspected that his husband’s thoughts were following a similar path. The silence between them stretched for a moment before Edric spoke, his voice quieter than usual. “When all this is done, I want to go sledding again.”

Zephyr’s lips twitched, the faintest of smiles playing on his face, though it did not quite reach his eyes. “Of course,” he said softly, his words holding more weight than the simple promise of a future joy. They both knew that the world around them was shifting in ways they couldn’t understand, and the landscape they once cherished was changing, perhaps irreversibly.

Edric caught a glimpse of Zephyr’s fleeting smile, a bittersweet reminder of the past, and in that moment, the full weight of their situation settled over him. Living through times of wonder, as he had once imagined it, was nothing like the grand stories told by bards or whispered around campfires. The weight of leadership, the pain of loss, and the uncertainty of tomorrow had a way of turning such dreams into distant memories.

As they continued to ride, the path began to climb upwards into the foothills. The trail narrowed, and one of the guards took the lead, followed by Zephyr, then Edric, with the other guard bringing up the rear. The air seemed to grow heavier with each step they took, the wind carrying with it the faint scent of ashes, a familiar and unsettling presence.

Edric’s nose wrinkled as the smell grew stronger. “Is that—” he began, but Zephyr nodded grimly, cutting him off.

“There,” Zephyr said, pointing ahead to a crevice in the rocks where thick, grey water burbled sluggishly to the surface. The water barely resembled the spring it once had been, and Edric gagged slightly as the foul smell assaulted his senses.

The two men slowed as they passed the spring, neither of them stopping. The air around it seemed thick with contamination, the water corrupting everything it touched. It turned what should have been a life-giving source into a symbol of corruption and decay. Edric’s heart sank as the realization hit him once more: they were facing something far more insidious than they had imagined.

Zephyr’s jaw was tight, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the spring. After a long moment, he looked back to Edric. “Ride on,” he ordered, his voice firm and commanding. With a flick of his reins, Zephyr spurred his horse forward, and Edric followed without hesitation.

They passed two more springs, both in the same polluted state, the water thick with ash, before Zephyr spoke again, his tone quieter this time. “The last spring is just ahead,” he said, his voice filled with a trace of something unspoken. “The one where—”

He trailed off, his words hanging in the air, and Edric could feel the tension in him like a taut string, ready to snap. Edric placed a hand on Zephyr’s shoulder, grounding him with the simple touch. “I am here with you,” he said, his voice steady. He didn’t make any promises of safety, not when neither of them could predict what would happen next.

Zephyr gave him a grateful look, his posture straightening as he squared his shoulders. They continued on, rounding a bend in the trail, and Edric’s heart lurched at the sight of the spring ahead. The scent of ash was even stronger now, and as they neared the spot where Zephyr had first encountered Abyss, Edric could feel his pulse quicken with dread.

Without warning, Zephyr leapt down from his horse, striding purposefully toward the spring. Edric’s heart skipped a beat, panic surging in his chest. “Zephyr!” he called, urging his own horse to follow. But Zephyr did not stop.

Edric’s thoughts raced as he feared the worst—that Abyss would somehow claim Zephyr again, that the same malevolent force would rise up from the water and ensnare him. He leapt from his saddle and sprinted toward his husband, but Zephyr ignored the spring, skirting around it with purposeful strides. He came to a halt on the other side of a tumble of rocks, and Edric pulled up short, his breath catching in his throat.

“This was not here a few days ago,” Zephyr said, his voice filled with disbelief. He turned to look at Edric, his eyes wide, as if seeking confirmation of what he was seeing. “I swear to you, Edric.”

Swallowing the knot of apprehension in his chest, Edric moved closer. He could hear the murmurs of the guards behind them, but he did not glance back. The trail ahead was narrow, winding further into the heart of the mountain, but Edric’s gaze was fixed on the strange path that had appeared seemingly overnight. His mind raced, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to click into place. “I believe you,” he said quietly, his voice steady. He frowned at the trail, biting his bottom lip in thought. “After all, this is not the first pass to suddenly appear in these mountains, is it?”

Zephyr shook his head slowly, the look in his eyes darkening with resolve. “No, it is not.” All traces of hesitation and surprise faded from his expression as he raised his voice, a commanding authority returning to him. “Kelvin, Benjamin. We are following this trail. Kelvin, you may lead if you desire, or I will.” His tone left no room for argument, and Edric’s heart swelled with pride at the sight of his husband stepping back into his role as king, his strength palpable.

“I will lead,” Kelvin said, urging his horse forward without hesitation. “I do not fear what we may find here.”

Edric gave Zephyr a low bow, his voice filled with both respect and affection. “After you, my lord.”

Together, they mounted their horses once more and began cautiously picking their way forward. The path was treacherous, rocky, and narrow, twisting back on itself in sharp bends. But as they ventured deeper, Edric noticed that the stench of the polluted springs began to fade. The air seemed fresher, and a warm breeze began to blow, tugging at their cloaks and hair. It felt like a welcome relief after the oppressive atmosphere of the mountains.

The path began to wind downward, and Edric’s eyes caught a flash of color ahead—a startling red-gold that stood out sharply against the grey of the rocks. His heart quickened as he strained his eyes to see better, but the bends in the path kept the source of the color out of view.

Suddenly, the trail leveled out, and Edric’s breath caught in his throat at the sight before them. A forest, stretching wide and high, filled with vibrant trees whose leaves were painted in shades of red, orange, and yellow. The trees stood tall, their canopies offering a brilliant contrast to the grey world around them. A small animal chittered at them from the trees, then darted away, disappearing into the underbrush.

The rising breeze caught a single leaf, sending it floating gently toward them. Zephyr reached up, catching it delicately in his gloved hand, his eyes lingering on the leaf as it rested in his palm.

The guards stared in awe, their eyes wide with wonder at the unexpected beauty. Edric’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s beautiful,” he said, unable to speak louder, unwilling to disturb the peaceful silence that surrounded them.

Zephyr turned to look over his shoulder, a soft smile playing on his lips. “It is,” he agreed, his voice tinged with both wonder and something deeper. He loosened the clasp on his cloak, letting it fall from his shoulders. “And warmer than Eskarven, though not as warm as Rafria.”

Edric nodded thoughtfully. “Like the meadow,” he said, his mind racing with the possibilities. Clara and Hadley had spoken of restoration, of balance being brought back to the world. It seemed that they had found something even more significant here. “Once again, it is quite literally the middle ground.”

Zephyr’s eyes met his, and Edric saw the understanding there, the shared recognition of the importance of what they had found. “The land continues to change,” Zephyr murmured.

Edric peered ahead, but the path through the trees was blocked. There was no clear way forward on horseback. “We will return, better prepared,” he said, his voice steady. “Unlike in the meadow, we might easily lose ourselves among the trees. We can bring cloth to mark a path, and more companions so we can cover more ground.”

Zephyr looked longingly at the trees, but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I’m certain Clara would like to be present when we explore further, and I know I would draw comfort from her presence.”

Kelvin cleared his throat, his tone surprisingly bashful as he looked between Edric and Zephyr. “Might we accompany you on this return mission, Your Majesty?” he asked, his cheeks flushing as both men turned to him in surprise. “This is the most wondrous thing my eyes have ever seen, and I would like to play whatever role I can in this story.”

Zephyr smiled warmly at him. “Of course. We would be honoured by your presence.” He turned back to Edric, a playful glint in his eye. “I am happy to be returning with news of a change that does not seem to be an immediate threat, for once.”

Edric shook his head with a small smile, still captivated by the sight of the vibrant trees against the blue sky. “Let us enjoy it while we can,” he said, though his words were tinged with a somber note. He winced when he saw Zephyr’s smile fade at his words, but it was the truth. Time was fleeting, and they had no way of knowing how long this peace would last.