Vassal

by Sterling D'Este

  He would never be able to live with this, the knowledge that he had left his friend in her darkest moment. Even if all was lost. Even if there was nothing to do to save her.

  Because if there was something to be done to stop this, no one else could do it. He alone had read the book of summoning. He alone knew how to bind Enyo.

  And if that could not be done, then he should pay the consequences, not Alphonse.

  This was his mistake.

  No one had ever cared for him like Alphonse did. She would not have left him.

  Etienne froze on the road, his fists clenched.

  His fear was so terribly heavy. Ravenous. With a maw like a dragon threatening to swallow him whole. It was too much. Stronger than he was.

  But Alphonse...

  Etienne swallowed, forced himself to turn around.

  He could do this. He could face Enyo and Delyth and Tristan even if it meant pain or death.

  He could do this.

  For Alphonse.

  The mage took his first step back towards Thlonandras, then he took another. The blade in his chest did not stop its ceaseless slicing, but it was more bearable because Etienne knew it need not slice forever.

  Chapter XXVII

  Eighth Moon, First Quarter: Thloegr

  The path up the brutal ridges of the behemoth peak that housed Thlonandras was winding, narrow, and in some places non-existent. Even in her prime, Enyo had kept the trail treacherous.

  If her devoted followers wanted to experience the magnitude of her ascendance, then they must first pass through the gauntlet.

  She thought it was perhaps the most devious and clever thing she had ever concocted, but Tristan and Delyth were looking at her warily. Unimpressed and frankly unappreciative. The Goddess snarled and gestured up the cliff face, a sheer drop to the left the only fate awaiting any traveler who slipped and fell. “That is the way to Thlonandras.”

  She could see why the priestess might be hesitant. It had been a harrowing few days. The mortal had become practically a mute, her face frozen in perpetual shock since her little friend had abandoned her. She’d been less than useless, which was an accomplishment of sorts because she had hardly been pulling her weight beforehand.

  But now Tristan and the priestess had needed to do everything for the pitiful vassal. Cook, bathe, feed…

  Enyo shook back the curtain of golden hair and turned her face up to the bright sun overhead. At least with the vassal so thoroughly broken, she’d been easy to control. Supple in the Goddess’s hands.

  But they would simply have to get up the ridge and into Thlonandras, and Enyo would have her basin. With her sacred object in hand, her consciousness would be fully merged into this body, and her powers restored. For the most part. Of course, inhabiting a mortal form would limit her somewhat, but there were ways around mortality.

  For a Goddess, at least.

  “Just one more day’s hike, and we shall reach Thlonandras and my wondrous basin. And then this tedious journey shall be at an end. Praise Va'al.”

  ༄

  Delyth followed Enyo’s eyes up the horrible slope, taking in the frozen rock and slanting footpath. This was the last part of her journey, the last thing she would have to do to fulfill her duty to the temple.

  She should have felt proud. Victorious even.

  Instead, she just felt hollow.

  Ever since the loss of Etienne, Alphonse had hardly been present. Mute, vacant-eyed. Delyth had to beg her for the simplest things: to eat a few bites in the evening or change her clothes. It was like she was lost already. Like she had just given everything over to Enyo. Like reaching the temple was less an end than a symbol of something that had already ended.

  The priestess swallowed. Never before had she been so loath to complete a task for the temple. But the simple truth was that she no longer had any desire to see Enyo strengthened.

  She just wanted Alphonse back.

  Instead of answering Enyo, Delyth turned away from the ridge and dropped Alphonse’s bag onto the grass off to one side of the road. There wasn’t any point in camping away from the path. It wasn’t like other travelers were going to be coming by.

  Behind her, Tristan was eyeing the path with a bored expression. “Are we camping so soon?”

  It was an hour or so earlier than usual, but the priestess turned to him and nodded firmly. “I’m not getting stuck on that after dark.” It would be an entire day’s travel. Better just to leave it for the morning.

  Enyo’s eyes widened. “Ba’oto! We cannot stop!” While this seemed like a debate, Enyo was already starting towards the steep climb.

  “Enyo, that body isn’t used to a climb like that. It’ll be dangerous even when you can see where you’re going.” Delyth’s face was set, but she tried to reason with the Goddess rather than demanding. Not that there was any greater chance of success, but it was at least a less dangerous option. “What if you missed a step and fell? What if I couldn’t see you to catch you?”

  She shook her head, throat closing. Delyth would not lose Alphonse.

  Not any sooner than she had to.

  “What happens to you if—if Alphonse dies?” Curse her voice for cracking. “Will you be trapped again, like before?”

  For once, Tristan didn’t argue. Delyth knew he longed for the Goddess’s full return. Perhaps the idea of failing so close to success bothered him.

  “She does have a point,” he said, shrugging at Enyo.

  ❂

  Enyo actually slowed in her climb, reaching for one handhold only to glance over her slender shoulder at the two. The Priestess and the Rogue.

  United. For once.

  And Enyo didn’t know what would happen should this body die before she was bound to it. Would she simply claim a new body, perhaps that of the priestess? And then renew her attempt to gain access to the basin?

  Or would she go back to… to that place? The void.

  Shuddering, Enyo let herself drop back from the cliff face. She looked contemplative, typically an expression that then was followed up by some devious, terrible plan.

  Yet…

  She heaved a great sigh. “Fine.”

  And just like that she walked off to admire the intimidating view down the mountainside.

  ༄

  Delyth looked down at the pack containing the tent she shared with Alphonse and then turned away to join Enyo at the cliff face. The priestess didn’t speak, instead just staring down at the abrupt fall. At the craggy rock face, fading into obscurity and the sheen of Lake Penneidr miles and miles below.

  She could just… step off. Go tumbling down, tossed by the force of the air between herself and the mountainside. Fling out wings at the last second. Just to prove she could. Just to lose herself in the simple fear of it.

  Delyth took a step forward and sent pebbles skittering off the edge.

  She didn’t hear them hit.

  “Good thing the boy’s not here, eh?” Tristan was on the other side of Enyo, snickering. “He’d have wet himself at this ledge.”

  “Indeed,” Enyo agreed with a snort. “I will give the boy credit where it is due, though. He was ambitious to think he could contain me. Banish me. One less piece to think about. And we should thank him. With the vassal so hopeless, it is child’s play to control her now. Any fire she had is gone. Tristan, have you thought about your reward for serving me so faithfully these moons?” She was clearly bored with the topic of Etienne, or Alphonse, or anything but herself and the basin and her glorious return.

  ⚄

  “Hmmm… I get a reward?”

  Tristan put a hand to his chin, smiling faintly, and turned to follow Enyo as she swayed over to the side of the road where they had placed their packs.

  Delyth was turning too, and as Tristan watched, she took a decided step away from the ledge, her eyes wide with some emotion the rogue couldn’t name.

  Jealousy, perhaps?

  Enyo hadn’t asked her what her reward would be.

 
Tristan shrugged and followed Enyo. “I think that I would like to continue to be of service,” he said lightly. “And there are many ways that I can serve.”

  Surprisingly, Delyth did nothing to cut off this line of conversation. Her eyes were fixed on Enyo still.

  Hmph. Dim wit.

  “Nothing so trivial as gold or silver. But certainly something… My priestess has sworn her sword to the temple, so her reward is simply a job well done. But you had no reason to come along, aside from appreciation of the old ways.”

  For a time, Enyo blathered on about the old ways. The dancing, the feasting, the glorious, gruesome brutality.

  She was in a fine mood when supper was finally served and even ate it without complaint. The Goddess rolled onto her back to watch the stars rise, and the moon crest over the mountainside. It seemed obvious she’d not relinquish control to Alphonse. Never again. Why should she? When they were this close?

  Tristan certainly didn’t mind.

  ༄

  Delyth sat, staring into the fire. Nearby, Enyo had given up her ceaseless talk of the old days, and both she and Tristan seemed replete in the aftermath of dinner. Delyth paid them little mind, keeping her face as calm and stoic as ever.

  Though her thoughts were ablaze.

  Etienne had planned to contain Enyo, had thought he had a chance at banishing the Goddess again. There might have been a way to free Alphonse.

  The priestess’s conscience smote her for that, though weakly. She should be eager to unleash Enyo.

  Delyth glanced at the Goddess where she lay, peaceful enough at the moment.

  The other priests had simply not known just who it was they were worshipping.

  She saw more good, more worth saving in the mortal girl than Enyo, and for all that she should still feel beholden to the people that had raised her, Delyth thought it was high time she started to follow her own beliefs. Alphonse came before the Goddess.

  It made sense, now, why the healer had become so remote. Not only was Etienne Alphonse’s dearest friend, but he had also been her only hope of meaningful survival.

  If only they had told Delyth!

  She could have helped them. Kept their secret. Stopped Etienne from losing hope.

  Only, they must have seen her as an enemy, an ally of the Goddess they were trying to thwart.

  That hurt. Alphonse had never wholly trusted her. Not with this.

  Delyth clenched her jaw against the hole that realization opened in her chest. It was full of howling winds that might escape her throat if she didn’t watch them.

  Not to mention, it wasn’t helpful.

  She knew now, and they had still one night before they reached Thlonandras. She just had to talk to Alphonse, had to make her see that Delyth would help any way she could.

  And Enyo had been speaking of rewards…

  “Enyo, I know that a job well done is a reward in itself, but I would like to ask for a boon.”

  “A boon? Ba’oto?” The Goddess had been gazing into the stars above, seemingly close to sleep. Fire-filled eyes lazily drifted to the warrior priestess, and a smug smile came to Enyo’s lips. In the soft firelight, she nearly looked human. Almost like Alphonse. “What is it you would ask of your Goddess?” Her tone was indulgent, if uninterested.

  Delyth paused a moment, considering her words carefully. If she offended Enyo in any way, then she would likely not get to see Alphonse at all.

  And she had to see her. Had to really speak to her.

  “Tomorrow, you will finally reach your temple and be reunited with your full power, the end of this long journey. I only wish to speak to Alphonse one last time to— to say goodbye.”

  She all but choked on the last words. Maybe it would make her all the more believable.

  Enyo slowly sat up, suddenly and keenly interested in Delyth. Eyes roamed over the warrior’s immobile face, flickering to Calamity at her side…

  “I had not intended to release the vassal again.” This was putting Enyo in a position she didn’t want to be in. What would Delyth give to inconvenience her Goddess? Her mortal pleading had little effect on Enyo’s own ‘heart.’

  “Would you do it for one who has served you her entire life and seen you safely to your temple?”

  With Enyo, one could never be sure. She seemed to be in a good mood so close to her release, and perhaps she would grant this one thing. If not, well…

  Delyth supposed she always had her blood.

  “If not, what would you like in exchange?”

  Enyo’s smile stretched wide, showing too many teeth. Like a wolf spotting a bison. Showing off. Intimidating.

  “I see no reason to let the mortal out, even if she was your plaything Ba’oto. You had your pleasures. You’ll find another. I can’t think of a single thing I’d want in exchange. I have all that I could possibly desire…” She slid her eyes back to the stars. Fox-sly.

  “What about my blood?” Delyth asked immediately, holding out a hand. “Or Calamity, returned to you tonight?”

  She ground her teeth, thinking. What else did Enyo like?

  Nature? Sex?

  Was she willing to do that now, break the one line she had refused to cross? She had nothing but her beliefs. What would it mean to lose them too?

  Enyo didn’t seem interested in either of her other suggestions.

  Tristan had been watching this play out from across the fire, his cunning face cut into jagged angles by the flickering light. Now he spoke up, voice velvety and warm.

  “You could promise the rest of your life in service to Enyo as well. After all, you are a priestess. And useful, for all your sentimentality.”

  Delyth swallowed. She saw again the beautiful future she had painted for Alphonse the first night they’d come together. The two of them in Dailion. A simple life. Gentle and uncomplicated.

  If she failed to free Alphonse, it would be gone from reach anyway.

  Slowly, she found herself nodding.

  “In exchange for this one last night, I will serve you after you reach your full power for the remainder of my life.”

  Perhaps Enyo could see how high this price was because she smiled wickedly. “A lifetime for one night? I’d be a fool to say no. Very well, Ba’oto.” Enyo stood, circling round the fire to place one hand on Delyth’s sternum, the other on the crown of the priestess’s head.

  “You have a bargain.”

  A deafening crack of thunder burst through the peaceful night air, despite clear skies. As the echoing reverberated off the mountainsides, an intense weight, invisible and dark, pressed down on the priestess, pinning her to the ground.

  Then, as quickly as it had come, the pressure was gone.

  So was Enyo.

  ❀

  Alphonse yanked her hands away from Delyth, afraid she’d been hurting the warrior.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Delyth,” Alphonse murmured, glancing towards Tristan, who was watching, wolf-eyed and eager.

  One night with Alphonse was not worth a lifetime tied to a madwoman.

  Worse. A mad Goddess.

  Delyth rose and cupped Alphonse’s cheek in one hand, her eyes on Alphonse’s amber ones. “All will be well, little bird,” she said, her voice gentle. “Come inside with me?”

  Alphonse looked up at the moon, just a sliver and hanging above the peaks of the mountain. Would this be the last time she saw such a beautiful sight with her own eyes? Her own thoughts? Untainted by Enyo’s bloodthirsty effect?

  It seemed likely.

  Alphonse hesitated, watching the moon longingly. How calm and peaceful she looked up there in the sky. Eons away from this mess.

  Finally, the healer turned and followed Delyth into the tent. Their tent. Perhaps she should be grateful for a final night with her paramour. Perhaps she should be joyful.

  All she felt was tired.

  It was already over; they just didn’t know it yet.

  Delyth paused only to ward their tent against all intrusions, be they physical o
r eavesdropping ears. Then she entered and sat cross-legged on the floor. It was set up in two pallets again, in the case that it would have been Enyo sleeping there rather than Alphonse.

  Once Alphonse was seated, Delyth didn’t mince words. “I know of your plan with Etienne.”

  Alphonse didn’t even bother to wince. So her last secret was out. It didn’t matter now— not since Etienne left. He knew the plan had already failed. There was nothing left to stay for.

  “You don’t have to worry. I won’t fight Enyo. Your Goddess is safe. It was a foolish plan, anyway. I trusted Etienne with it all. I—I can’t do that type of magic. I’m not powerful or talented… ”

  Alphonse spread her hands over her knees, feeling the snags and knots in the tightly woven brown skirts. Sensible clothes she had always loved and tended to with pride.

  She supposed Enyo would dress in furs and pelts and little else once she was in full control, baring Alphonse’s body to the world.

  Delyth flinched, shutting her eyes tight against the words. “Alphonse…” she said, “I’m no Etienne either, but I want to help you. I— I don’t want to see you lost.”

  The healer frowned, trying to smooth some of the wrinkles out of her skirt. It clearly had been slept in the night before. “I would never ask you to choose between your faith and me.” Who could ask that of someone they loved? Delyth had been raised by the temple by the priests and priestesses. She was as much a child of Enyo as she was anything else.

  Alphonse had struggled with that fact, but finally, come to accept it.

  Delyth was who she was, and her loyalty was one of the traits Alphonse admired most. Swallowing, Alphonse finally looked up from her ruined clothes. It didn’t matter anyway. “I’m very sorry I lied to you, Del. I just… I don’t worship Enyo. I don’t— I can’t—” It didn’t matter anymore. Couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t want to… But she was stuck with Enyo now. Forever. Always.

  She wished she could cry. Then maybe she’d feel better.

  But Etienne’s leaving had finally snapped that part of Alphonse. The part that cared enough to weep. To hope.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”