Page 47 of The Sins of Silas (The Otacian Chronicles #2)

Chapter Forty-Seven

LENA

I woke to the most horrific migraine imaginable, not that that should be a shock. My mouth was as dry as a desert, and the need to vomit threatened me enough to have me sprinting to the bathroom.

After hurling my guts up, I brushed my teeth twice as if that would wash away the sins of the evening. I showered, scrubbing my body thoroughly and washing my hair with honey and oat soap before finally exiting the shower and chugging some water from the sink.

After dressing in fresh clothes—a white blouse and black trousers paired with my boots—I made my way to Elowen’s room, seeing Torrin already standing at the door, arms resting on the frame.

I walked over just as she handed him a vial, and he downed it instantly .

Her eyes trailed over me. “You too, Lena?” she asked, shaking her head and laughing. “You guys need to not drink so much.”

Torrin gave me a half-smile, eyes flitting down my frame, before he turned, exiting the area. I entered Elowen’s room, Edmund sharpening a blade in the corner.

“Mornin’ Lena,” he greeted warmly, his face falling. “Jeez! You look—”

Elowen shot him a death glare, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “L-like you’ve had a rough night.”

You have no idea.

“Yesterday was brutal, Edmund. It’s no wonder Lena looks drained.” She flitted her eyes to me. “I also whipped up some contraceptive elixirs. It’s about time for another.”

Elowen went to work at the kitchenette in their room. They were placed in the fancier room on purpose; El was our best healer, and people would need tonics today after the battle.

“How are you holding up?” I asked her gently, sitting on her bed.

She kept her eyes on the task at hand, pouring water into a pot and bringing it to a boil. “I…I don't want to talk about it.”

My eyes darted to Edmund, who gave me a sad smile. The strength it must’ve taken to provide Saoirse with a painless death…I couldn't imagine.

Elowen was a tiny thing, five feet tall, and the youngest one in our group. But inside her was so, so much resilience.

She'd had a whole childhood being hated by her brother. A whole childhood—and adulthood, it felt at times—blaming herself for what happened to Ayana Astair.

She'd helped me through my miscarriage when she was only fourteen years old. She saw both of her parents die, then witnessed them as Undead.

She'd healed my broken frame after I'd been violated. And now, she'd slid a dagger across a helpless child's neck, providing her peace.

Her strength inspired me.

“Has Roland asked for one?”

Edmund snorted. “You already know Roland is probably still sleeping.”

I smiled at that. Yeah, he probably was.

“Can you make one for him, too?”

Elowen nodded, crushing herbs from our travels and submerging them into the rolling boil.

As I studied her, I felt something different. I wasn't sure what.

“Hey, Edmund?” I asked, tilting my head to him. “Can El and I have a moment alone?'”

He paused his blade sharpening, just as Elowen said, “I told you I didn't want to talk about it.”

I'd never heard such a stern tone from her. Edmund's gaze saddened, and he stood, walking over to her. Her hands were gripping the counters now.

“Ellie…you should talk to her,” he murmured, rubbing her back.

Her shoulders shook as she stayed stiffly in place, and she eventually conceded, nodding her head.

I stood from the bed as Edmund kissed the top of her head, then left, giving us some privacy. My head was killing me, but still, my worry for my friend took precedence over it all.

A few moments passed in silence. Elowen finished making the remedies, infusing her magic into the concoctions.

She glanced over her shoulder at me, and my eyes trailed down as she lifted her hand, snuffing out the fire beneath the pot.

I gasped, my eyes shooting back up to hers. “El, you—”

She splayed her fingertips out, and I loosened a breath as fire crept down her hand, down her arm.

Elowen had acquired fire.

“When?” I breathed.

“Last night,” she responded quietly, allowing the flame to dissipate. She began filling two bottles of her concoction while I ambled toward her.

“You should have called for me.”

“Edmund helped me,” she insisted, handing me the remedies, then the contraceptive elixir, her lip trembling. “He is my light. My anchor.” She chewed on her bottom lip, brows lowering. “I am so angry, Lena. I have never felt so much bitterness. I've never allowed anything to dull my spirits. But this…” Her aqua eyes drifted toward the window, gazing outside at the kingdom. “There is so much ugliness in this world. I'm finding it difficult to feel hope anymore.”

I placed the vials in the cross-body I wore and pulled my friend into a hug.

“Believe me, Elowen, I struggle with that feeling every day.” I pulled back, holding her arms. “But you saw beauty in the face of ugliness. What you saw in Edmund changed the course of everything. He is proof that there is hope.”

Her light eyes shifted between mine. “As is Silas?”

I swallowed, my arms dropping .

“You saved him first. That is the action that changed the course of everything.” She shook her head. “I never saw goodness in him…in any of them. I only saw it in Edmund because he is my Soul-Tie.”

I stood still, finding it troublesome to come up with words.

“I've been paying attention to the two of you…two individuals who should hate one another more than anything, fighting vigorously to ensure the other stays alive. He is your Soul-Tie, isn't he?”

My rapid blinking, my mouth opening, then closing, told Elowen all she needed to know.

“You know what really proved it to me?” she asked, her frown disappearing. “When he was being taken away, and Saoirse was crying for him, he told her to go by you , not Erabella.” She stepped forward, and my heart picked up, nerves running rampant at the idea of her figuring it all out. “It's why he has always shown care toward you.”

“Elowen…” I shook my head.

“When did you know?” she pressed.

I wanted to tell her everything, tell her all that her brother and cousin knew. But now was not the time.

“I've felt it for a while,” I responded. Not a lie. “But Elowen, a Soul-Tie connection is not enough. The person's character is what dictates how I feel about them.” I sighed, running my hand through my curls. I then fished out the vial from my bag and poured its contents down my throat. After swallowing the elixir and curing my hangover, I continued, “Before you recognized what Edmund was to you, you saw in his actions he was a good man.”

“What action did Silas do that showed you he was a good man, too? Was it his treatment of you after what happened in Forsmont?”

My eyes filled with tears, my voice dropping as I uttered, “It was his treatment of me after I was raped in Fort Laith.”

Elowen's eyes flared, her small hand shakily obscuring her mouth. “Lena…I…I had no idea.” She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “I knew you had been beaten, but I never would've guessed—”

“It's okay.” I sniffed, wiping my eyes and giving her a pitiful smile. “I knew exactly what type of man he was after that. He is broken—tormented by a damaged past. I feel him harboring secrets to keep himself afloat, afraid of drowning in front of everyone…afraid no one would care to bring him to shore.” I handed her back the empty vial, feeling as good as new, physically, anyway. “But no matter the cold, emotionless front he presents, his heart is pure. His heart is made of gold, despite his father's attempt to turn it to stone.”

Elowen blinked over and over to clear her vision, and she gave me a soft smile. “Edmund loves him. I couldn't understand why for the longest time.” She placed a gentle hand on my arm. “You're right. There is beauty camouflaged among the ugly. We just have to look for it.” She wrapped her arms around me one more time. “Thank you, Lena.”

“If you ever need me, El, please come to me. Fire can be unpredictable at times, especially when those we care for are in danger.”

I knocked on Roland’s door after leaving Elowen's room, cracking it open to find him in his usual open mouth sleeping position.

I chuckled to myself, quietly walking over to set the vial on the nightstand beside his bed.

He heard my entrance, though, and his mouth shut, his eyes blinking open slowly.

“Morning,” I said gently.

“Ugh, my head,” he groaned, his hand covering his eyes.

“Here.” I picked up the vial. “Open wide.”

He peeked at me through his fingers, then smirked before opening his mouth for me. I pulled out the cork, poured the elixir in, and he swallowed.

“Thank the Gods for Elowen,” he praised, then sat up in bed, tousling his messy brown hair.

“Honestly,” I agreed as I made my way back toward the door.

Roland clutched my arm. “How are you feeling?”

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Back to normal after that elixir.”

He gave me a deadpan look. “That’s not what I meant.”

I sighed, then sat beside him on the mattress. “I…I don’t know.”

He studied me with soft eyes.

“Have you ever been in love, Roland?” I asked after a beat, even though I remembered he told me in Forsmont that he had not.

To that, his eyebrows raised, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I—well…it’s not that I don’t care for you—”

I snorted, backhanding his chest. “I know you’re not in love with me. That’s not why I asked.” I sighed, my eyes going to the floor. “I asked because I have been…as you know. I have been in love with a man who was in love with me.” I turned to face him. “Casual sex is fun, really fun, but it doesn’t compare. It’s not the same. ”

My lip wobbled, and Roland held my hand.

“I miss him,” I said, my voice a broken whisper.

“Quill?” he asked, remembering my story.

I nodded. “Part of me wishes I never met him…that I didn’t know what I was missing. I wish I had nothing to compare it to.”

“I thought the saying was ‘better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’ ?”

“The losing hurts so fucking badly…even after all this time.” My eyes fell to my lap, Roland's hand still interlaced with mine.

“I do love you, you know,” he said quietly.

I swallowed, squeezing his hand. “I love you too,” I admitted.

“When this war is over, and we’re not almost dying every day…perhaps I could offer you more.”

I drew him into a hug. “Your friendship has already offered me so much. I don’t ever want that to change.” I squeezed him. “And don’t think I’m not grateful for yesterday. After how that battle went, I think we all needed release.”

He squeezed me back, then pulled away. “So…is this it then? The end of our endeavors?”

I pinched his leg. “I’ll keep you posted. But for now, I just need to focus on myself. Focus on winning this damn war.”

He gave me an easy smile. “I’m always here if you need me.”

I kissed his cheek. “I'm always here for you, too.”

Some of the Mages wanted to stay in Faltrun and change it from the inside out. This kingdom lacked morality, and while I knew there had to be some who lived here that had a heart, speciesism wasn 't something that could be changed overnight. I admired those who were willing to stay and better this place.

Others, like Torrin’s parents, wished to return to the people of Ames. To their home. To safety. I didn't judge anyone who wanted to be as far away from this place as possible.

The sun shone brightly that afternoon, and all of us were standing in the castle’s throne room. After a lot of consideration, Deana was named Supreme of Faltrun. I watched a glimmer form in Silas's eyes as he smiled, those of us in the room bowing to her.

My eyes skated to my father, who stood to the side with only a handful of Faltrunian guards behind him. The soldiers who had survived were given three choices: pledge their loyalty to the cause and remain a member of the guard, surrender their titles and stay within the kingdom, or leave entirely. Most surrendered, some left, and very few chose to remain in the army.

After Deana’s short coronation, I snatched Dani, pulling her to the side. “I want to teleport to Mount Rozavar.”

“Bloody hell,” she muttered, pupilless blue eyes focusing on me. “You just wanna jump right to it, huh?”

I crossed my arms, the corners of my lips turning upward. “I performed Sana omnia vulnera eius with little difficulty.”

At Dani's gaping mouth, I told her how I memorized the spell while traveling and successfully performed it to heal Silas's wounds.

She offered me a lazy grin. “You sure are powerful, Supreme.” Her smile faltered. “But this spell isn't for the faint of heart. You will be utterly drained after.”

"I thought about it, and I wondered if I could somehow siphon energy from the handful of Mages who wish to come with us. Despite Elowen's healing, many of them are still weary. I wish to provide them a straight shot to safety, If possible.”

Dani pulled her lips to the side. “You can certainly siphon their energy. It's how us Warlocks have performed the spell in the past. The question is if you could manage to teleport us back after leaving all those people behind.”

“Can they not send me their energy while standing outside of the circle?”

She thought about it. “I mean, potentially. Without our innate abilities, we've never been able to do it that way. But it sounds…ingenious, really.”

I’d read of Mages being able to teleport with their own magic. Like healing or enchantment, it was a type of magic any Mage could learn. The problem was you’d have to be taught it, and I’d never met one who knew how. That, and the power it took, was far beyond the skillset of any Mage I knew.

“It takes significantly more energy to do it the Warlock way,” she continued. “But in a dire situation, it is worth it.” Her eyes locked with mine. “You’ve seen a taste of what expending too much of your power looks like. It’s not pretty. So, after you complete this, even with your people's help, you’ll need to lay off magic—just for a short while.”

I nodded my head slowly, my mind thinking back to the detailed pages. “The other types we’ve learned…I’ve had to reach into the same place where that specific magic resides inside of me. But if I don’t know where this teleporting magic comes from, what do I do?”

Dani hummed. “Teleporting comes from your entire body. It’s all of you. Now, while I am not an expert on Mage magic, I know that the hardest part for us in pulling off teleporting is handling the amount of power. I imagine for a Mage, being able to actually reach that level without a magical tether—in our case, the pentagram—is where the true difficulty resides.”

I glanced back to my father, who offered me a warm smile.

Mother would be able to see the love of her life again if I succeeded at this.

I would not fail.