Dryad's Touch (Void Waker Book 1)

by A. W. Graybill

  All seven siblings agreed that Thaos’s army would return. They had retreated in the thick of battle even though they had been winning against Elona’s border guard. They would return, whether tomorrow or in a hundred years. Time meant nothing to them or to the opposition, only to the mortal pawns that waited anxiously.

  “Have someone search the bodies,” Elona spoke absently. She leaned into her high-backed chair, long fingers brushing across the bottom of her thin, pointed ears down to her lower face and neck where burn scars in the shape of a hand marred the sun-touched flesh.

  She grimaced before continuing, “Send word to find what we can use; preserve anything extra. It could come in use at a later time, potions or constructs. I leave that to you, of course, Marun.” The third-born stood, saluting her with a fist to his chest before marching from the room.

  “The sorcerers, mistress,” Maida, sixth-born, whispered, her dark hair falling away from her rounded face when she leaned back in her chair. Maida’s fingers brushed the violet-colored blood crystals that pulsed at her neck. “Most escaped after casting wards to protect the infantry. When Thaos’s forces turned heel, Gaius’s healers did their best to revive.” Maida was ever the quiet one, traumatized when Thaos and Elona had joined their lands so many years ago. She remained as such after thousands of years.

  Elona nodded, staring at the hand mark on Maida’s right upper arm below the sleeve of her gown. The seal of Elona, an impression of her hand, glowed a soft white. The mark had been given to each of the seven who chose to be in her service for a lifetime and more. She had given them seven pieces of her power. It made them not gods, but strong and immortal. The power within them returned to her through constant devotion.

  Over three thousand years ago, a thirst for power and unity brought the seven to Thaos and her. Drudan had led his siblings to them, attempting to bring peace to all kingdoms. Drudan, one time crown prince of the Darso kingdom, had been willing to hand over land and people to Thaos and Elona. Darsus, a younger god whom they used to follow, stood behind the Thrasons’ ailing father and both forbade it. Civil war had erupted, and the seven had surrendered everything in their lands for the sake of gaining peace.

  “Mistress?” Drudan inquired from his seat beside her at the long, wooden table. He touched her shoulder, bringing her back to them. Looking to him, she was met with the rolling of storm clouds. His features were stern as he watched her. She softly smiled and reached to touch his face, as she did so often in her bed, pulling away at the last moment.

  Breaking eye contact, she looked at Maida, her gentle voice carrying through the vaulted ceiling. “There will be men and women ready to join forces soon.” Elona took Drudan’s hand, feeling the blood pulsing through his fingers, the warmth of it against her cool skin. She relinquished it when his thumb passed over the back of her hand. “Find recruits who are ready to begin training. All are loyal, most will not refuse. In the meantime, Aiden should assist those necromancers in his care to raise the fallen, hurry them home before decay sets in.” Another salute came from the sixth- and second-born before they left too.

  Shortly after, the door slammed open and shut. Cold, rough hands touched her shoulders, digging in, and Elona shivered, knowing who had appeared to disturb their peaceful habitation.

  “Eusa,” she stated.

  Eusa released Elona, wide hips swaying into view as she stalked each person who remained. Disdainful looks greeted the goddess of all succubae as she passed behind each of The Chosen. Ending back beside Elona, Eusa ran her talon-like fingers through Drudan’s hair. Elona watched deep lines form around his pursed lips. Immortal or no, he was a man, a descendant of Gavin, one of twelve original human rulers created by the elder gods. Eusa’s hold on him had broken long ago when she had killed their child, just before Thaos and Elona had parted ways. Drudan had taken care of Eusa and all of her needs. But her jealousy of Elona drove her into a rage that ended in the causality of their only child.

  “Is there a reason that you’ve come into our presence, Eusa? All of my children refuse to visit,” Elona smiled, speaking words that were best kept to herself, “except to torment my people.”

  Eusa’s hand retreated from Drudan’s head, fingers curling. Judging by Drudan’s twitching lip, it was just in time.

  Eusa’s golden eyes narrowed. The illusion she kept briefly faded to reveal slitted pupils surrounded by gleaming, green irises and a more reptilian long, slender face. Her father’s eldest brother, Kothes, had cursed her appearance long ago when he had found Eusa and her brother lying with dragons to produce a breed of demons for their world. Of a weaker bloodline, the curse held strong. But Eusa had learned well before then the power of illusion. She had taken on a stronger resemblance to her mother and tricked many.

  Elona had always had her doubts about the many things her daughter had done. Though sometimes she still saw Eusa as her curly, dark-haired little girl who would always beg Elona to sing to her.

  Eusa’s lips curled upwards, revealing straight white teeth. The illusion was back in place. She pushed away chestnut curls that would have matched Elona’s had it not been for the blackened tips. “Father sent me to ask you to unset the runes Thena gave to you.” Her voice was sweet, though it bore a hint of anger and danger beneath. Elona’s smile faltered for a moment. “He requests a” —Eusa looked at the others sitting at the table— “private meeting with you, unlike last time.” Eusa leered at Drudan before turning her attention back to Elona. “And unlike last time, he desires to meet here.” The only thing Elona could do at that moment was shake her head.

  “What does he want?” Drudan asked in Elona’s stead. He did nothing to hide the anger in his voice. “He consistently threatens our border. His soldiers, demons, and spell casters fight to his heart’s content and then retreat. He wants a meeting with Elona now?” Elona laid her hand against his forearm, squeezing just enough to get him to look at her. When he did, she couldn’t help but notice the pleading in his eyes.

  Drudan was right; she should deny Thaos access given the damage he had caused. But her heart beat quickly with the forgotten passion of hundreds of years, of the desire to change him. With her cheeks burning, she tried not to show her Chosen the conflict that rose in her.

  Elona broke eye contact with Drudan, looking up at her daughter. Eusa’s eyes burned with hatred as she gazed upon Elona’s hand touching Drudan. Whatever Thaos had in mind, he had chosen the worst messenger.

  “Eusa,” Elona spoke, regaining her neutrality and moving her hand. Instantly Eusa looked back at Elona, but the hatred had not left. “I assume that he stands at the edge of the runes’ reach? Waiting?” Eusa nodded, thin lips pursed. Elona looked to no other, choosing instead to close her eyes for a moment, not wanting to hear her own answer; if only that had been a real option. “I will allow him access, but you warn him I keep guards nearby at all times.”

  Eusa chuckled as she pat the top of Drudan’s head. They all knew that guards, mortal or otherwise, would do nothing to stop Thaos. It was for show. Everything either of them had done was for show. Neither could hurt the other.

  There was no sound; none would speak. When Elona opened her milky blue eyes, Eusa was gone. Either by flight or shifting through the world as gods would do, Elona didn’t care. She cared for The Chosen who now looked at her. A tight knot formed in her chest.

  Eamon, fourth-born, stood. His leather-gloved hands spread across the dark wood table. His facial features nearly matched his brothers’, squared and strong. However, a great scar stretched like veins across his face, a constant reminder of Thaos’s corruption. “Do you think it wise to allow such a menace inside, Elona? Let him see you on the edge. Whatever he wants, you know it’s never admirable.”

  Elona shook her head, wiping her hands across her face, across the burn marks of so long ago. “No. I am uncertain, Eamon. If he wanted to, ages ago, Thaos would have sent in any of our children to destroy everything. They and their armies could have come close to us, as short
a distance as you stand before me. Everything gifted and everything we’ve worked hard to build and maintain could have been lost or, at the least, made hard to keep hold of.” She looked at each sitting there, the thunderous roar of storms in their eyes gave similar looks of disapproval.

  Elona continued, “It has all been for the demonstration of power. I was given a portion of his power when he made me. Since he only has a finite amount of energy before he’s exhausted, especially in this physical form, he needs me. I have something he can use.”

  “And you would give that to him,” Drudan murmured, looking away from her. “You would give him control over us once again?”

  She shook her head. “No. While I am tired of fighting, I hold out hope for peace since we know the sounds of war draw closer. I will give him nothing.” Her hand clasped his wrist, provoking him to look back at her. The next she said loud enough for only him to hear. “Nothing.” They sat this way for a long moment, one looking at the other.

  Drudan nodded, his composure calm when he stood, Elona’s hand tenderly pulling away from his wrist. “Our goddess understands what she is doing,” he said. “For years she has known. This should be good enough for us after having been at her side for over three thousand years.” There was reluctance in each of them as they stood. Elona would not blame them for that either. She felt it too. Thaos had more power than their children combined, equal to her and her forces. She took solace knowing that her people held an even stronger faith in her, but there would always be room for doubt.

  The Chosen each saluted her and left. Elona stood after a moment and strode to the center of the room where a pedestal stood feet from her bed, keeping it close in her most vulnerable times to ensure herself. The flat, circular top held false engravings that lit up a soft blue. Placing the runes was simple magic just as the mark left on each of her followers, but the meaning wasn’t known to anyone, including herself. The language of the gods was theirs and theirs alone. Godhood had been granted to her, and Thaos had shown control over her by not exposing all the potential she had. While younger gods were born with the knowledge or instinct that came with godhood, just as the elves of old were, she had been made.

  Passing her fingers over the runes, she remembered the day Thena had given her the knowledge to keep Thaos at bay once she had severed ties with him by surrendering his plans over to the other gods. The day he had blasted a crater into Arlania and made it his own, creating a portal to the Shadow Realm split wide open at its center.

  He’d left the Mortal Realm that day, but they all knew he would return. Though they had banished him from their homeland, none had the heart to kill him.

  Through Thena’s compassion, she had created runes against him and given them to Elona. Thena’s power gave them strength, and it was she who could revoke that power at any time despite what knowledge Elona had. The only other place they were used was located at the center of the elven islands, long after the sundering. Long before Elona’s lover fell completely to greed, anger, and self-destruction.

  While her fingers moved in just the right order, her thoughts concentrated on dispersing the magic that held them together, that showed them as a false engraving. They were meant to be permanent. Now, in just a short time, she tried to recall details, hoping that she wouldn’t miss a single thing the goddess had told her.

  The runes faded into nothing, but her hand continued to hover over the pedestal, now a blank slate, preparing her mind for when he would come to her. It had been so long, and she prayed that she would show no weakness, that the years of separation, all the times he had attacked her people, had hardened her to him.

  First was his scent of deep earth, of burning wood, and of the night. It had not always been that way, she reminded herself. At one time he had smelled of only the night and the gentle waves that swept across the shore of their home. That was how she wanted to remember him, to remember the nights when his scent had been enough to calm her.

  Now, she stood rigid.

  Of course he would have chosen to stand behind me, she thought, closing her eyes when he placed himself against her thin back. He ran his fingers through her hair. As the curled tips fell from his fingers, he pressed his face to the top of her head, inhaling deeply.

  “Oh, Elona,” he said, his voice soft and alluring, “the scent of the gailenia. The fragrance is so sweet. It was so nice of you to have prepared for me.” One hand traced down across her face, past the burn scars and the dead mark she had received across her neck when she died. Further he traced lines down to her stomach. “You’ve changed very little.”

  She’d had enough. She pried his hand free of her. “Thaos.” Unwilling to look weak and uncertain, she forced herself to look at him. Thousands of years did nothing to keep her heart from racing at the sight. Shoulder length, dark hair, vibrant blue eyes; his otherworldly features were never to be outdone by any mortal and were only matched by his brothers. She had fallen for his appearance. Being a simple child, she had first looked at his face and his tall, strong frame. Then, as she grew, so did her love of his mind. Of the sanity he’d had all those years ago, when he had been kinder, gentler. As her mentor, he had been loving yet stern. As a lover, he had been gentle and thoughtful.

  Elona pursed her lips. “You sent our daughter. Why do such a cruel thing to my Chosen when requesting my audience? You know how they feel towards one another.” Thaos smirked, his hand reaching out to touch her, but she backed away, leaving him to grasp air. Displeasure flashed in his eyes.

  “I thought it would be nice,” Thaos replied smoothly. “Centuries later, is Drudan still as bitter towards her as she is towards him? Would he not try to at least make peace with her and soften her heart?” Elona narrowed her eyes as he continued, “The death of their child was his fault, and I should have cast him out when I still had the power to. Why do you guard him so? Release him.”

  Running her hands down her red and amber gown, she looked towards the pedestal, ready to set the runes back in place.

  “Do you feel for him as he did for you? Does he still pine for you? To be between your long, smooth legs as I had countless times? A little raven said that Drudan has visited your bed, and we all know gods need no sleep.”

  “Enough!” Elona yelled, burning with anger and not enough hatred. “What is it that you want, Thaos? State your business or leave.” Surprise crossed his face at her outburst. He knew how to get her to play along, to get her to act in ways she normally wouldn’t. At one time he had completely controlled her.

  This time, she did not back away when he stepped forward to touch her hand.

  His expression turned calm, serious, and tender. “I’ve come for a truce, Elona.” There was a huge lump in her chest, disbelief causing a deep pressure in the pit of her stomach. He shook his head. “I mean it. I need a truce. I need your strength.”

  “What are you getting at, Thaos?” she hissed, abruptly pulling her hand from his. “You plan to lower our defenses, to tear down what we’ve built?”

  “If I wanted to,” he snapped, “I could do it before you even had a chance to touch those runes, before you could yell for your bedchamber slave. You are not protected by the sword, by my brother, or anyone. I mean this. I’ve been called to aid Thena.” Disbelief tightened around her throat. “Her prized city, Thanis, may face an army’s siege from Katharos. Suvius’s ego is greater than my own. Their military force is fearsome, and she thinks that they would be able to stand up even against her angels and seraphim. Her city falls, and her country will topple as well, leading to who knows what chaos.”

  “You lie,” she accused, turning to the pedestal. Thaos was swiftly on her. Grabbing one of her wrists while his other hand clasped over her mouth, he pulled her close to his chest. When she made to kick him, he bent his leg so that he pulled hers, turning her around in the process. When their legs entwined, they both fell to the floor.

  “Give me a chance, Elona.” His voice rumbled with anger, his face close to hers. “You’v
e no way to prove my truth except to follow me. My siblings will not answer your call, nor can you move through the realms. But I swear to you she came to me seeking peace. If you help me, we could rebuild. If you help me, I will plead with them to accept you. I have changed; I desire to change more.”

  Elona stared up at him, not attempting to speak. Her heart cried out, telling her to believe him, but her mind erred on the side of caution. She had to protect her people from the monster he was. Tears peaked at the corners of her eyes while his showed sincerity.

  He removed his hand, lips coming down to meet hers for a brief, unwelcome kiss. “Bring your troops to Thanis’s border; pass through Katharos with scouts. Suvius will never expect or look for you, so you will move through safely. I would offer you passage through my land, but that takes far too long.” His voice dropped even lower. “She will see you, see us. Thena will reward us and convince the others. Our children are in their own ways, but remember how you and I once were. I want a chance to rebuild that, and perhaps our children will follow suit. And if your heart is set with Drudan, after so many years I would have no doubt, at least we can settle in a truce and make our peoples prosperous.”

  Elona held her breath, wanting to stop the tears that showed weakness. “I need time,” she struggled to say. “I need to seek counsel.”

  “No. They will say no to this. You know that.” He pushed up on his hands and gazed down at her. “Time I can give you, but only a short while. It is two weeks’ maybe three weeks’ ride there. The attack is rumored to happen just around that time.” Elona nodded a little, trying to think. Nothing. “Elona, revelations of prophecies draw closer. The world should fall to war once again. I do not desire to be the catalyst. I’ve grown tired of constant battle. As gods we can change the outcome of anything.”