Dryad's Touch (Void Waker Book 1)

by A. W. Graybill

  Karasim made to lunge again, but Craith held him back and sent him a warning glance before shoving him away.

  “He has no right to speak like that,” Karasim snapped. “The way he acts, you’d think sleeping with whores was something uncommon for him.”

  “Arisa has fallen into the bed of many, you whore’s son, even my own!” Hathus yelled, pulling a larger shard from his face and flinging it to the ground. Ichor rose to cover and seal the wound, leaving behind black dust. “The Thrasons and their ilk are as bad as we are; why make a golden ray of light around them that is not and never was there?”

  “You will not speak of Arisa!” Karasim screamed hoarsely, ready to attack Hathus again.

  All fell still when the smell of night and earth drifted through the air.

  “What about Arisa?” Thaos inquired, clapping his hands on the shoulders of both Craith and Karasim. All eyes focused on Hathus who stood and wiped a bit of wine off his bare chest. “You boys are having a friendly fight over a girl?”

  “Arisa is too much of a whore, even for me,” Hathus muttered. Karasim stiffened, wanting to avoid the day he knew would come, but Thaos tightened his grip. “Karasim has been between her legs for years now. They even made a blood seal. I was there to witness it whether they knew or not.” A slow grin tilted Hathus’s face.

  Karasim froze, not knowing what his father would do. Craith always warned him that Thaos would have her hunted down. Even if an immortal or god could not die, it didn’t mean they couldn’t feel pain or be tortured.

  Thaos hummed, the roar sounding deep in his throat as the sound a predator made before it devoured its meal.

  “Arisa is welcome in Choráis any time, Hathus,” Thaos said, patting Karasim on the back. Hathus’s confused look reflected Karasim’s. Only Craith stood with his usual stoic expression, but Karasim knew his brother was not without thought. “So long as you never tell Elona what I have planned and you do not interfere with anything I’ve done. If you tell her, I will have Arisa placed in a cell where she can be raped, beaten, and drained of all her blood.” Despite his father’s charming smile, Karasim felt numb, and he swallowed a hard lump in his throat. The arrogance rose once again on Hathus’s face. Thaos leaned near Karasim’s ear and whispered, “Do not think because you are my son you will be excluded. I will send your own brother after you. But you knew that. After all, is that not why you’ve stayed?”

  Karasim’s body tightened when Thaos slapped his back. While still holding Craith’s shoulder, he steered the older brother from the tent.

  Karasim was too distraught to care about Hathus’s taunting smile, too angry to deal with anything more. This was why he had never left. Karasim always toyed with the idea of his own father harming him or at the least having someone else do it. After all, there were times Thaos took to beating Eusa.

  Karasim turned from Hathus without a word and left, arms crossing over his chest as ideas of rebellion danced in his head.

  ELONA

  Elona looked out over her people with overwhelming pride. Constructs lumbered ahead of the entire troop. They were terrible looking creatures formed from body parts sewn together and bound together with magic. They were experiments Elona performed long ago when she lived on the one island before it had been split into Ghela and Vheria. The ability to protect those alive was crucial. Despite how most considered Elona and those in her country, she valued the lives of her people more than anything. They too valued life and celebrated that they would be of further use when they were deceased.

  After the constructs, the dead walked amongst the necromancers. The dead were men and women that had agreed to allow their bodies to be used after their passing. Most were deceased soldiers who had served until the very end, but there were some citizens who volunteered.

  The Risen, undead sorcerers who wore the crystal shards that Maida and her followers harvested, followed suit. Scattered amongst them were a few powerful Lich, some with skeletal features, who controlled the Risen and some constructs.

  Next in the company marched a portion of the infantry who wore skeletal armor made of darkened metal. Moving perfectly in line with one another, they were men trained by Drudan yet mostly overseen by Eamon and others beneath Eamon. These men would protect the living necromancers, sorcerers, and healers that rode on horses just behind them. Unlike the soldiers and the dead that marched, these spell casters would need every ounce of their strength, and they were never looked down upon for riding into battle. Or, as it were, across the countryside to Katharos.

  To the back, Elona rode with her Chosen, their marching guards, riding ladies, and other attendants. All together, they were barely a thousand and by no means all she commanded. Elona was not foolish enough to leave land unprotected upon Thaos’s words alone. It would suffice, however, to aide Thena if there was a coming battle.

  Drudan rode close to her, not looking at her. Elona had not yet given him all the details of what she was doing, even now so near to Thanis. In truth, this was not for the gain of Thaos but for her to gain the audience of Thena.

  “Night is approaching, My Lady,” Drudan informed her, something boiling beneath the surface of his voice. “Those who still breathe grow weary and hungry. We should make camp while we still have the open lands of Katharos.” This man had always been devoted to her, unquestioning, and strong. Though he never asked, she told him most everything.

  Until now.

  Nodding, she pulled back on the reins to slow her horse. Those around her followed suit. “Cease their march, set camp, and send out scouts. Let me know when you’ve done this; I need some peace.” She gazed at him a moment longer before wheeling away. Her heart beat to remind her of her emptiness, and she reminded her heart that she would fix this. She would repair everything Thaos had broken.

  Riding downhill a few paces, she came to a stream that let out into a nearby lake. The closer she came to the trickling stream, the better she could see a shrine on the other side of it. A temple would be nearby as well as a keeper. The other gods built many shrines long before their ascension and before her birth. The only place in the world where none could be found was her land.

  She desired the peace of the shrine in that moment.

  The shallow water and lack of large rocks made easy passage for her horse, its hooves splashing drops of water against the white of her dress, bits of mud and pebbles sticking to it. It didn’t matter to her for she had brought another gown to present herself to the queen in.

  When she reached the other side, Elona dismounted with the grace of four thousand years, her riding boots sinking into wet ground. She led her horse up a few paces before patting it and continuing without it. The shrine was only large enough for offerings, not allowing many to pray before it unlike those on Vheria and Ghela. From the assortment of sun pendants, gold coins, and griffin feathers, Elona knew people used this shrine as devotion to Thena. Even here in Katharos, the bitter enemy of many, people prayed to her.

  “Oh, gods,” Elona breathed, easing up the gray steps. At the center, surrounded by flames, sat the glass basin that held a part of the essence of Gaia’s golden ichor. She remembered when it had been used to make her into a goddess after Thaos had ripped her soul from the spirit realm and forced it back into her body. The sweet taste did not mask the burning that ensued as he held her against him, filling her with his power and guiding her body.

  Elona threw herself to her knees at the top of the stone stairs, hands grasping the edge of the shrine. Her voice soft, she hoped it carried strong enough. “Thena, if I could call you friend, if I could call you sister, I pray whatever barrier you have to keep from hearing me falls away.” Swallowing hard, she turned her face upwards, and she cried. Such was the case every time she prayed to Thena. The past was alive in her, the loss of the other gods’ company bit deep into her heart. Not even the lesser gods, who mostly resided on Arlania, would come to her.

  “Thena, if you can hear me please know that I’ve agreed to aide Thanis. Ar
mies are mounting everywhere, preparing for the elder gods’ arrivals.” She shut her eyes, slowly breathing through parted lips. “Please come to me; I need you.”

  A hand touched her shoulder, too rough to have been Thena’s. Still, her hopes to speak with the goddess were not gone.

  “My Lady, our people have nearly finished setting camp,” Drudan said, his bare thumb running across the base of her neck. His voice softened. “Elona, does she still not answer, even this close to Thanis?” Elona shook her head, her braided hair swaying with the movement. She looked at Drudan, the wind rushing across her face and drying the tears that were there. “Still, she does not answer.” His hand swept across her cheek. “How do you know this is truly what she wants?” He knelt beside her.

  “It does not matter, Drudan,” she breathed, releasing the shrine to take his hand and press it against her face. “I’ve plans. Plans you must trust me with, plans that will set me free.” At the last word, she closed her eyes, feeling her heart pound with such elation at the idea of freedom. While she no longer wanted to live this life, she realized more every day she didn’t want to leave Drudan either. Drudan had been more loyal to her than Thaos had, kinder as well, even in the times she would continually deny his touch. In her heart she felt it had been he whom she was meant to take all along.

  The matter of love was risky. They had tormented one another for so long. In the days of Thaos, Drudan kept a respectable distance. But there were several instances where she had gifted him with a requested kiss, and only once had he taken advantage of that. She had quickly cut her show of affections, knowing Thaos killed all who expressed their desire for her.

  After Thaos had left, she continued to deny Drudan until she thought she would lose him to another.

  “Why must you keep your plans a secret?” Drudan inquired, coming closer to her, his breath hot across her face while his scabbard dragged along the stone. “Have we not been loyal enough and done everything you’ve requested of us? Have I not…” A sentence he could not finish. Elona placed her hand to her chest, wishing he would. The word love had not been spoken between the two of them in so long.

  “Have I not proven myself trustworthy enough that you cannot place faith in me on this?” Elona asked, looking at him with hardened eyes. “Don’t you think he would listen to us?” Drudan said nothing, confirming he understood. “Drudan, you and I will have a child.” Her tone was hushed. While she did not want others hearing her, at the same time she wanted Thaos to hear her.

  Drudan became still. Finally admitting this not only to him but to herself, she spoke quickly so she would no longer be able to avoid her feelings. “I do love you, Drudan.” His breathing increased; painfully she continued, “I wish no harm on you or your siblings from anyone. But I will die. And when I do, I want to leave a legacy, to leave a legacy with you.”

  “You will not die, Elona,” he objected. The setting sun allowed the flames of the altar to cast across his face, deepening the pain that began to set in.

  “Drudan—”

  “Our people rely on you and love you.”

  “I have to. The first prophet spoke it. When first made dies. Some might want to stop the gods’ return, to stop the war that would ravage the land. I do not, and you know why.” He looked away and at the glass basin holding Gaia’s essence. Many implications would come from having Thaos killed. But even with him dead, evil would not leave the world. He was not evil, only its minion, twisted by its long hands and bitter anger.

  “If you die, what will happen to your soul?” He refused to look at her, his hand falling away. “Would I see you again in whatever realm you are led to?”

  “I do not fully understand what leads my thoughts. When first made dies echoes inside my mind. I’ve also thought that energy does not disappear completely.” She looked at Gaia’s blood. “I learned this as a child. Energy, power, can be transferred. I could become mortal once again. But if I die, will I be as Gaia, or would I go to the spirit realm? Even now the spirits speak to me, in the corners of my mind…”

  Drudan shook his head, using a loving hand to force her to look at him. “Do we have to worry about that right now?” Elona opened her mouth to speak. However, Drudan had leaned in. He hovered above her lips for a moment before kissing her. Never before had she felt such emotion in a kiss with him than she did at that moment. Leaning her body into him, her hands slid across his thighs. This was love. Love she felt only once before, before it was murdered in its infancy.

  Drudan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace and lining her neck with tender kisses. “No,” she replied, looking over his shoulder towards the stars dotting the sky. “We should return. From this point forward I want you near me always.” A firm squeeze met her words.

  When the day came for her death, she prayed her plan worked and only her godhood would die. However, if she were truly meant to die, then she prayed she would be able to stand in the other realm and wait for her love. She prayed he would not die without fulfilling all her desires. And, looking to the brightness of Ghedril’s light, she prayed the gods saw her and understood what she was doing.

  FALLON

  As soon as they set to sea, Nara fell ill. The moment they’d set sail, she had thrown her head over the side of the ship and lost the contents of her stomach. Fallon, while attempting to help her and comfort her, couldn’t help but find her inability to handle a short venture humorous, seeing as she longed to travel the world.

  Leaving Vheria had been uneventful. Castien had expected someone to follow them or make an attempt to stop them, but nothing of the sort had happened. The way Castien worried about being followed made Fallon silently questioned whether they should be following this elf or not. They had known Taruk for some time, and Fallon knew they could trust the orc, but the elf? Something about Castien felt wrong, and it wasn’t only jealous pride that caused him to think in such a way.

  Fallon sighed, folded his arms on the ship railing, and laid his head on them. The view of Vheria no longer visible against the backdrop of the sunset on the horizon. It ripped his soul apart to leave their homeland. But he told himself that since he had set his path with Nara, he must follow it to the end.

  Taruk neared him, his meaty hands gripping the rail of the ship. He too stared into the void, silent and with an unreadable stone face. Fallon turned his head and smiled at the kind orc. He felt grateful to have a familiar presence nearby.

  Taruk spoke first, his tone unreadable. “I shouldna taken you two. Told Castien no.”

  Fallon blinked. “Why would you say that?” Fallon stood his full height. “It was Nara’s desire to leave, not Castien’s.” The orc looked at him, heavy brow becoming deeper. The orc said nothing more, waving his hand when he lumbered away, his frustrated steps falling heavy against the wood.

  “Let them know we reach land soon,” Taruk huffed. Fallon stared after him, wondering about his actions. It didn’t take him long to realize the other orcs and humans were staring at Fallon. Their looks unsettling. After a moment, they went back to their posts, preparing the ship to pull into port. Castien, Nara, and himself seemed something odd to the crew. He heard it in their whispers, saw the way they looked at them with apprehension. Something about his companions seemed to cause unrest.

  Fallon made his way below deck, to the cabin that Nara was given to rest in. After knocking on the door, he waited a few moments before he opened it. A very pale Nara sat on the bed with Castien beside her, rubbing her back and staring with obvious disgust at Fallon. Fallon kept his eyes on Nara, who held her head up as best she could. “Taruk says we should arrive shortly, and I know you are happy to hear this.”

  Nara nodded weakly, smiling. “It seems this was not for me after all.” Nara glanced between the elves. “Though I think I will push through it if I ever have to leave Ghela. What is sickness compared to exploration?” Castien straightened before wrapping his arm around Nara’s shoulders.

  “I’ll help her prepare,
Fallon.” The other elf did not smile. Unless Nara was watching, Fallon doubted Castien would ever show him kindness. “I should also let you know that your brother, Evert, works with the king’s fleet. I was not expecting you to come along, but since you have, I suppose I should tell you.” Fallon’s eyes widened, knowing now why Evert never came home. Evert, when on Vheria, had studied the ships that came and went from the island. He had often visited the port city to sketch ships or ask the sailors as many questions as he could. Fallon had tagged along with him many times.

  “Thank you,” Fallon muttered.

  Castien nodded, narrowing his eyes. Placing her hand to her mouth, Nara leaned against him as her face paled. Her eyes had widened, and she stared at the floor, but she said nothing.

  “I’m sure you and Evert have many things to discuss,” Castien said. “I can understand if we do not see you for a while.” He smirked, rubbing Nara’s shoulder again. Tension built in Fallon’s forehead. But instead of arguing with the elf, Fallon closed the door.

  Castien aimed at Fallon’s anger, and Fallon was stuck. Nara favored the other elf; whether as friends or as something more, he could not tell. Fallon wanted to talk to her soon about that and other things. So many whispers encircled her, about demons and gods, and about Castien, claiming him to be at the right hand of the king.

  With a shake of his head, Fallon grabbed his rucksack from beside the cabin door. He hoped things would calm once they arrived, and he wondered where Nara would lead him. After all, it was not Evert he had come to Ghela for but her. Evert had only been an afterthought for more than just him, as it appeared. Would this new island give him a chance to change and impress Nara? She had a great fascination for the outside world, and now an outsider carried her away.

  It mattered not. He would find a way to stay in her sight, to blend in and make her see that he too could be like them, that he could be all she wanted. Eventually, she would be his and not only during a moment of weakness.