The silence is deafening, and I rush on, trying to fill the unsettling void.
“I’m changing, becoming something other than myself. Blay knew, he knew everything and he was trying to help me. We didn’t know the extent of it, but so far it seems as if I’m somehow mutating into something other than human.”
Calasis purses his lips, intrigue warring with shadowy fear, his hand finally falling free from his throat to reveal the red puckered markings of my fingers and I can’t stand to look at him, to see how close I came to hurting him because of my failing self-control. I turn my gaze to Ellestra, hoping to find sympathy in her virtue; instead she just looks puzzled, unsure of what I’m trying to say and completely terrified all at once.
“Mutating into what exactly?” she manages to ask.
I sigh, not really knowing where to start.
“The overly extreme reaction of need I suffered just then, well that I believe was completely from the Jalooniem. It was a reaction I haven’t experienced before, definitely addictive and controlling in a desperate form of craving.”
“What about the eyes?” Calasis interrupts.
“Eyes?” I hesitate – what happened to my eyes?
“Your eyes changed from caramel, to an almost misty white, it was beyond disconcerting.”
“Well, that’s new,” I sigh, my heart sinks knowing that my body is experiencing yet another physical manipulation that isn’t humankind.
“And the claws?” Calasis continues pushing for answers.
“They are purely Zantronian,” I answer flatly.
Their eyes widen, whether from my admission or to how defeated I sound as I admit the seriousness of the situation I’m in, I’m not sure, regardless their fear is obvious. Zaneth stands completely still, unaffected by my revelations, already having witnessed far too much by this stage to feel any kind of shock, and his unwavering loyalty gives me the strength to carry on.
“I believe that I’m turning into a Zantronian – if that’s at all possible, and from my experience over the last few weeks, I think it’s certainly probable, if not definite.”
Ellestra is already shaking her head, unwilling to believe what I’m trying to convince them of.
“The Zantronians are a species, just like us as Prytorians, or you as Human – you can’t become one of them, that’s not possible,” her voice is unwavering, completely believing what she says.
I meet her puzzled gaze, wishing that what she says is right.
“I don’t know what else to say, there’s nothing else that makes sense.”
Calasis’s chest heaves as his lungs fill, trying to draw the strength he will need to get through this oddity.
“The claws are familiar.” He ignores Ellestra as she glares daggers at him and continues. “I’ve seen enough Zantronians to recognise them, but those weird blue lights that mark your skin – those I’ve never seen on any Zantronian fighter before, what do they do?”
I gaze down at my hands, watching the dim lights flow fluidly across my skin. On anyone else I would think they were beautiful, but on me they only remind me of how vastly different I have become. The thought makes my heart ache, showing me again how dissimilar I am now compared to the people surrounding me, all because of my own stupidity.
“Honestly? I don’t know. Although I don’t think they originate from the Zantronians, I believe they come from something else, something Prytorian.”
Calasis thinks that over, the muscle in his jaw twitching as the seconds drag by, his narrowed eyes calculating all of the possibilities.
“And Blay knew about this?”
“Yes.”
“But he didn’t tell anyone? He didn’t inform any of the Elders, or our parents, or even me, to try and get help in any way?”
“No.” My eyes sweep the floor, knowing that I’m the one who stopped him from getting the help that could have potentially stopped this nightmare.
“He was trying to protect you?” Ellestra’s voice cracks, an understanding I’m unaware of flickers across her delicate face, sadness etched into her cocoa eyes.
I nod, my long, brunette hair falling across my face, hiding my remorse.
“Then we will too.” Her strength shines through, chasing away any lingering fear caused from my out of control actions.
“You don’t mean that, Ellestra.” Sadness fills my chest at her innocence, her pure selflessness once again showing me my glaringly obvious flaws.
I allowed Blay to conceal the truth for me, to help me even when I knew the dangers of doing so were extremely great. I can’t allow Calasis and Ellestra to do the same thing, it wouldn’t be right.
“I’m not asking either of you for your protection anyway. I have every intention of owning up to my problems. I just wanted to do so to Karadese, to tell her the truth face to face, and then she can do whatever she wants with me. All I want is the chance to stop Garvien from hurting Blay, to somehow get him back to Prytora. I owe him that much for everything he’s done for me, and then your mother can do anything she wants with me. I don’t care anymore, everything’s gone to hell anyway.”
Ellestra gazes up at Calasis, who in turn stares at Zaneth, an unspoken conversation travelling between them, years of not only friendship but also comradeship crossing the small distance.
“You knew?” Calasis sounds sad, defeated in his realisation that he was once again left out of the loop.
Zaneth merely nods, not needing words to show his loyalty to me or to Blay.
Calasis tips his head back, sighing deeply as he stares up at the glass ceiling, a war going on in his mind between doing the right thing and the wrong thing for the right reason.
Finally he looks at me, his face losing the haunted expression that it’s held since my attack, and when he speaks I know that I should refuse, but I don’t, I am foolish, selfish and beyond stupid all at once.
“You will keep your secret, Rayna, and we will too.”
A slow smile spreads across Ellestra’s pink lips, knowing she won this round.
“Don’t say a word to anyone about this. If you’re right and you are changing into one of them, then not only would Father not allow you to stay here, he would also never allow you to fight against them. The chance of you turning against us is too high, particularly in battle.”
“That’s exactly why I need to come clean and reveal the truth,” I finally speak up, not wanting to cause more harm. The haunting visions which continue to hound me have proven how much this family means to me even though I’ve only been here for such a small amount of time. I feel compelled to help them, or at least to not be the reason why they get hurt. I couldn’t live through the grief that would bury me in self-hatred.
“No,” Calasis shuts me down straight away. “You haven’t changed into a Zantronian yet, who’s to say that you actually will? There’s a big difference between sprouting claws and being a full blown Zantronian. And if you are right, Rayna, which I pray to our Gods and yours that you aren’t, then we may still have time to either stop it, or at least use it to our advantage.”
“What do you mean?” The growing light of excitement in his eyes has me worried. What exactly is he planning?
“I want to bring Blay home alive, but I will also stop at nothing to take every single one of those Zantronians out for good, and you might just be the clue we need to do that.”
I don’t like where Calasis’s mind is going, yet I can’t deny him this hope. I don’t expect to live through this war, not with how my body and mind are changing. So if Calasis can use my curse to help end this fight, then I will do whatever I can to help.
Curse? The fleeting thought sparks a brain synapse but I’m too focused on denying Calasis to follow it through.
“I still think I should tell Karadese, she has a right to know.”
“No,” Calasis is adamant; his forceful response makes me flinch. “Mother is going through so much right now. I don’t want to put this strain on her too. No, let us deal with it. Betwee
n the four of us, we should be able to come up with some kind of plan. Something that will help Blay, help our fight and perhaps save you along the way – if that’s at all possible.”
The promise of keeping my secret buried is too alluring to refuse. I can’t give up the chance that we might be able to find a solution to all of this without outing myself to everyone. However much I want to save Blay, I also want to stay alive, to stay me and if I reveal my secret then I will lose any advantage I have to do either of those things. Calasis said it himself, Araton will cast me out, then there will be no hope.
My head nods automatically, agreeing to something I know in my gut is the wrong thing to do, but I do it anyway, ignoring the voice in my head screaming out for me to not repeat the same mistakes I made with Blay. This time I must get it right.
“Alright then.” Calasis straightens his broad shoulders, his face showing nothing but determination. “Start at the beginning, tell us everything that’s happened to you, and Rayna,”
I meet his unwavering gaze, my heart quickening when I realise what I’m in for.
“Leave nothing out.”
Chapter Four
I rush through my admission, pausing every time Ellestra flinches, knowing my words are the first in-depth truth she has ever heard in all her years of knowing about the Zantronians and hating myself for being the one to thrust her into the full extent of the devastation.
Calasis remains still, his eyes never once leaving my face, drawing in every piece of emotion I unwittingly emit, almost revelling in the details, as if somehow I will disclose the secret that will set his people free.
Whenever I falter in my story, I glance to Zaneth, his hulking form standing guard on the path, making sure no one will interrupt us as I continue. Just seeing him settles my fluttering heart, not because I know that he will do absolutely anything to protect me, no matter what, but because his strong, silent, aloofness calms me down, simply by reminding me of the boy I have inadvertently endangered.
Ellestra’s face pales, her lip bitten between glossy white teeth as I describe, in vivid detail, how my friends were tortured and how, when it was my turn to face the mob of Zantronian fighters, I was willing to do anything in my power to exact a shred of revenge, no matter how tiny.
That is when I pull back my sleeve, revealing for the first time, the innocent looking bracelet that remains embedded in my fleshy wrist. Now even Zaneth can’t pull his eyes away, never before having seen the reason as to why I’m changing.
“You are sure that this bracelet is changing you into a Zantronian?” Calasis’s voice wavers, uncertain of the bracelet’s potential.
“There is no other explanation that I can think of.” My shoulders tremble with the still present desire for the Jalooniem running through me, staying in the plantation is probably not the best of ideas.
“Then why don’t you just take it off?” Ellestra voices what they are all thinking.
“I can’t. It’s impossible, believe me, I’ve tried.” I lift my arm for them all to see and tug at the gold band, wincing when my skin splits as the bracelet fiercely holds on for dear life.
“There’s no way to remove it. It’s like it’s implanted into my flesh,” I pause, watching as blood pools around the gold band until it drips to the floor and feeling the tingling sensation of the magical lights springing to life to heal the minor wound almost instantly.
“So how do you explain that?” Calasis points to my arm, the twisting lights already beginning to fade.
I know I have to be completely honest but the words stutter on my tongue, as if giving up the information is revealing my secret haven – which of course is completely ridiculous.
“Honestly, I don’t know. When I ran away I found myself lost in the woods. I was hurt and cold, I’d pretty much given up on finding any safety, and that’s when I felt this yearning. It was if I was being pulled forward, an intuition I had to follow, and when I did, I found an old run-down cottage nestled in a stone cliff.” I glance at Zaneth and he meets my eye, knowing full well of the place I speak of, the same place I transported myself to, to find the ingredients that would let me planet jump back home to save my mother.
“Right before Blay found me I found something, something that was engraved with the same symbols that mark the bracelet.”
“What did you find?” Calasis rushes on, impatient now for all the details.
“Two silvery-blue swords, well they are smaller than swords but larger than daggers.”
“Short swords,” Zaneth offers.
I shrug, irritation flaring with the interruptions. Now that I’ve committed myself to telling the truth, I just want it out, all of it, and quickly so I can escape this suffocating plantation as fast as I can.
“Anyway, there was a moment in the cottage where I thought that the best thing to do was to just cut my hand off, get rid of the bracelet for good.”
Ellestra groans, screwing up her face at the prospect of what’s to come.
“Obviously I didn’t do that.” I wiggle my fingers at her. “But I did accidentally slice my skin with one of the short swords.”
I pull my sleeve higher, clearly showing the thin pink scar that blemishes my skin just above the bracelet.
“Within seconds those blue lights appeared. They healed the wound, leaving behind this scar and then vanished just as quickly.” I look to Calasis who stands there, eyes wide as he absorbs my words.
“That’s when Blay found me. He witnessed the oddity and promised to protect me without a second thought.”
Suddenly feeling drained I sink onto the very bench that only days ago I had sat in next to Blay; the emotions twisting in my stomach are so different now to then. Now my life is no longer the most important thing to fight for, and worst of all Blay’s not here to console me.
“Now that I think about it, the feeling I got, the very reason I was drawn to the cottage in the first place, I think was because of those swords. It was if they were summoning me,” my voice trails off, realising for the first time how true my words are.
Zaneth abandons his post to stand before me, his dark eyes narrowed, almost excited – something I’ve never seen in him before.
“These swords, are you sure they are the reason behind the lights that flow across your skin?”
His eagerness rattles my nerves and I flinch back, unsure of what he’s trying to piece together.
“As certain as I can be.”
He looks away, staring out at the great waterfall beyond the glass walls, his mind flurrying with possibilities.
“What aren’t you telling us, Zaneth?” Calasis has picked up on his sudden change in demeanour too, his own excitement sparking to life in his shifting emerald eyes.
“It could be nothing.” Zaneth looks back at me, his solid hand clenching and unclenching, the simple act stirs my stomach, reminding me too much of the Zantronians before an attack and I quickly stand, needing the added height as some feeble form of strength.
“When I was a small child roaming these corridors, I would often find myself exploring in areas forbidden to anyone beyond the castle guards. One time I overheard a conversation between my father and the Record Keeper, their tone kept me hidden, knowing what they spoke of was not only important but also a secret. I didn’t understand it at the time, and it was quickly forgotten, but Rayna’s experience has brought it all back.”
“What exactly was said, Zaneth?” Impatience rings in Calasis’s voice.
“They spoke of matching weapons that could rectify the curse, to undo what should never have been created in the beginning. Swords made from our finest steel - which has long ago diminished - and embedded with the old magical ways of Nevithan, by the last Magic Weaver of Prytora.” He frowns at me, as if he doesn’t quite believe the words he speaks.
“The Record Keeper insisted upon a legend which would come to pass, a time when the weapons of Nevithan would be welded by one to banish the curse once and for all.”
We al
l stay silent, absorbing Zaneth’s words and not completely understanding any of it.
My mind is spinning with the staggering possibilities, but it all boils down to one thing, ‘the curse’. A curse that was written about in my hidden book and now remembered by my very own guard.
“What curse?” Ellestra finally asks.
“I don’t know.” Zaneth runs his hand across his shaved head, the excited light draining from his eyes. “They never spoke about the curse or its origins. In fact, my father was completely adamant that no such curse existed, it was merely an over active imagination of an elderly woman who was grieving through her own personal loss of a child by a Zantronian’s hand. And in all of my days since then, I haven’t learnt of a curse that would require such magic to overcome.”
I look down at my bracelet, glimmering innocently against my wrist. I’ve always considered it to be a curse, but one forced upon me by Garvien and my own stupidity. It couldn’t possibly be what the Record Keeper was meaning, could it? None of this is making any sense and my frustration builds with the limited jigsaw pieces of information we are getting.
The warmth of anger simmers in my chest, always eager to be released and it takes all of my self-control to hold it down. Letting go right now, while I still have the Jalooniem so near, would not be wise.
Ellestra comes to stand beside me, her eyes sweeping my arm before she reaches out, her fingertips brushing against my skin, making me flinch from the unexpected touch.
“If what Zaneth says is true, the lights that run across your skin are a form of magic, Nevithan magic.” She looks down at me, her height only just above mine. “What do they do, Rayna?”
I’m suddenly regretting my side of the deal. Revealing the truth, laying my secrets bare, is more formidable than I ever anticipated. I feel exposed and vulnerable, the insecurity making me want to hide away, be unseen, mute, once again. The seclusion feels much safer than their piercing gaze.
Fallen Paladin (The Paladin's Curse Book 2) Page 3