by Liv Savell
“A God.”
Alphonse stilled, staring openly at the injury for many heartbeats before looking up into Enyo’s eyes. “Another God?”
“Yes.”
“But you are a Goddess. How—”
“In this mortal body, I am barely above human. Once I get my form back, I will be able to restore things and give back all that I had to take.” Enyo’s good hand flexed around some invisible throat, angry even here, in the sacred space of Alphonse’s mind.
“If you get your body back, you will be fully yourself again?” Alphonse asked carefully. Enyo glanced at the healer, remembering herself. Her good hand flattened at her side again. “I will.”
“And you will be able to inflict such injuries as that?”
Moreso. Mascen was powerful, but he was still her child. She was the original source of his power. But the healer didn’t need to know that. Enyo shrugged, uninterested in the girl’s lectures on pain and cruelty.
Alphonse took one step back and then another, retreating. “But if you do not fix your hand soon, you might die—we might die—before you get enough Gods to rejuvenate your corporeal form.”
Enyo frowned. What was the girl getting at? And how had she known she and Va'al’s plan to resurrect the Old Gods to generate enough power to reinstate their bodies? Had the little bitch been spying on her all this time?
“You will die too, healer. If this body goes, so too will your soul.”
Alphonse’s fingers were white-knuckled against the black of her journal. Perhaps rallying her strength or her will. Her face screwed up most unbecomingly, like a petulant child. “If I die, then you won’t hurt anyone else, and you won’t burn down forests and collapse mountains. You won’t hunt down whoever did that to you and get your revenge no matter the cost.”
Enyo snarled. but the girl pushed on.
“I know you, Enyo. If you get your old body back, nothing will stop you, and you won’t care who is harmed along the way. I’d rather die than help you.” The speech would have been more effective if Alphonse’s voice hadn’t been shaking. Still, she stood resolute, clutching her little book and defying Enyo.
The Goddess prowled closer, and Alphonse winced, looking away despite herself. “You’d let your lover suffer?” Alphonse’s gaze snapped back to Enyo at the mention of the priestess. Delyth. “If this body goes, so does her only chance of love. You would let her hope die to spite me? That doesn’t sound like you at all.”
Alphonse bit her lower lip but shook her head. “I am not Delyth’s only chance at love and hope. She will be alright with—without me.” Her words hitched, and Enyo knew her weakness.
“Even with this injury, I can rip the bitch to shreds. I’ll do it. You know I will —Tell me how to fix this, and I’ll let her live.”
“Living as your slave isn’t a life Delyth deserves!” Alphonse flung her words at the Goddess, and Enyo snarled, lunging forward to slap the stupid bitch. The healer scuttled backward to avoid the blow and tripped.
“You will help me!” Enyo demanded as she wrenched the journal from Alphonse’s grip and yanked her to her feet. Alphonse’s gaze flickered to the journal, terror painting her features, and Enyo realized what a fool she was. The Journal. All of Alphonse’s petty little thoughts. She didn’t need the healer to cooperate. She just needed her thoughts, her memories.
“No!” Alphonse screamed. Enyo dropped her back onto her ass and turned to gather up the little book. The girl had the nerve to grab at Enyo’s ankles, but with a wicked laugh, Enyo shook her off.
“Useless. Pathetic. Weak. Don’t you ever tire of being so truly benign? You are nothing. Even in your own mind, you cannot stop me.” Wiggling the journal, Enyo watched as Alphonse’s face crumpled.
Broken. Forgotten.
Turning on her heel, Enyo left the dark place.
And opened her eyes.
“That bitch,” she snarled. The knowledge she had gained was not how to heal or treat her injury, but it was just as valuable.
Alphonse had been spying on Enyo, and somehow she had gotten into the Dream Realms. That soft-handed, meddler, Ruyaa must have interfered. Alphonse had gotten a message to the priestess about what she and Va'al and Maoz were up to. That they were resurrecting the Old Ones to get their bodies back. Alphonse had warned Delyth, and now the priestess was surely taking measures to stop them. Delyth had told Alphonse as much. She had an artifact, was holding it hostage to keep them from getting their numbers.
But now Enyo knew and she wasn’t going to be hunted anymore. Oh no.
Enyo slipped out of the temple and down into the city streets, Calamity in her fist. She would find that bitch priestess, and she’d rip out her precious heart and eat it in front of her. Make her watch. And then she’d get the artifact Delyth had stolen, and Va’al would have his numbers.
And then. Finally. She’d be restored.
Lifting her face to the darkening sky, Enyo breathed in deeply. The winds smelled of smoke and destruction. But underneath that all—there. The smell of her own blood. Her essence. Faint and distant, but clear.
Hefting Calamity, Enyo started to run through the streets of Gwynhafan and out into the open fields around the city. It was time to hunt.
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* * *
It was sunset when the city of Gwynhafan finally came into view, several long days of travel after the battle with Mascen. Meirin was glad to see it, and not just because it meant that they were that much closer to finally stopping Enyo. The city was the first real sign that they were doing more than reacting to the Old Gods.
She had hoped they would go inside, but when Etienne said as much, Delyth only gave a curt shake of her head. “I will not be welcome in the city without your illusion magic to hide my wings. Better that we enter tomorrow morning, get what we need, and leave as soon as possible.”
While true, Meirin thought Etienne was as disappointed as she was, setting up his tent with less than his usual enthusiasm. Meirin stood at the edge of their camp for some time, staring at the distant silhouettes of tall buildings visible beyond the wall. She had kept her surprise mostly contained, to not seem like the uneducated, unworldly clan girl she really was.
Delyth and Etienne were so unaffected by the massive collection of structures and people, of the giant wall. Delyth watched the roads leading in and out Gwynhafan but not with the mixture of excitement and trepidation that Meirin felt. Rather, she had the air of a warrior keeping track of possible assailants. And once Etienne had heard they would not be sleeping there, he only seemed disappointed.
But Meirin couldn’t keep her eyes off the looming presence of Gwynhafan and watched as the sunset painted the skies pink and orange, lighting the rooftops in soft hues. It seemed mysterious and magical and so tempting.
Meirin didn’t bother to try and converse with Delyth at all while they set up camp. The warrior only cared about stopping the Gods and getting her lover back. Of course, Meirin could understand that, but it didn’t make Delyth any better company. Instead, she focused on Etienne.
“How long does it take a people to make a city that large?” she asked, curiosity coloring her voice.
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“I suppose that depends on how many people there are,” Etienne said, but when he looked over at Meirin, her face still turned to the city, he tied the last knot in his tent and stepped closer. She looked so enthralled. “From the records my people hold, it took hundreds of years for this settlement to become what it is today. First, just a few dozen families lived here, worshipping Esha. As more came, it grew into a town and then a city. The walls weren’t erected until the war with Ingola three hundred years ago, and one side along with half the city had to be rebuilt after.”
Really, it was amazing that the city was as impressive as it was, given its history. For a moment, Etienne tried to see the distant rooftops through Meirin’s eyes, as though he had never before seen a grander settlement. It was easy after half a year in the wilderness. The experiment o
nly made him a little homesick and even more frustrated with the endless nights in the wild.
Delyth had already set up her things and was unpacking their provisions with steady diligence. She did not quite take to the task like Alphonse might have, but she seemed to have come to think of it as her duty.
Meirin looked at Gwynhafan one last time and then turned to her companions. The sun had set.
“And your city, Etienne? How large is it?”
Etienne flushed. He didn’t want to sound as though he were bragging. “Quite a bit larger still.”
She whistled through her teeth, obviously impressed. “How long did it take your people to construct?”
“Very nearly as long,” Etienne said honestly. “Though it was never destroyed, and my people used a great deal more magic in its construction.”
He moved to sit at the fire, folding long legs beneath him. “You should see it one day. Dailion is quite the sight with the school rising from its center. It has walls like these but much bigger, with great, arching entrances that could fit twenty men abreast.”
Across the fire, Delyth looked up at this, though only for a moment, her expression distant and downcast. It had taken moons, but Etienne was finally learning her tells.
“What would I do in a tame city like yours, Etienne? Many warriors marching around, spears in hand?” Sighing, Meirin glanced towards Delyth, where she ate, seemingly uninterested in their conversation. “Did Alphonse enjoy your city? Or was she a clan girl like me?”
“She is from a small town,” Etienne said, stressing the present tense. “But she lived in the city as long as I did.”
They had gone to school together. Years spent studying and taking care of each other when no one else would, away from the families neither of them had ever truly felt at home in. Really, they had been more family to each other than anyone else—his sister in all but name.
“Alphonse loved Dailion and the school, though many of them didn’t understand her and her conservative ways. There are plenty of people of all types there. Even spear-wielding barbarians, though they frown on fighting in the city streets.” He said this last with a small smile, his eyes turned towards the clan girl.
Delyth set her meal aside unfinished, seemingly torn between hearing more about the place Alphonse had come from and disappearing into her tent. For now, though, she stayed.
“We spent almost all of our time in the school, away from the main city. We weren’t strictly forbidden from visiting, especially not in our later years, but it was easy to get wrapped up in studying and forget that the rest of the world existed.”
Etienne had learned more in his time traveling than he thought possible, though he had little to show for it. He had once equated knowledge with power. Now, those desires felt far away. Small. Unimportant even.
“I don’t think I’d stay locked away in some building—Not with all that available to me.” Meirin nodded vaguely in the direction of Gwynhafan. “It’s too exciting. Who would want to sit around reading and—” She gave Etienne a thoughtful look. “Mixing up tinctures when you could be exploring and having new experiences?”
“I guess to us, the city was not all that new, not by the time we were allowed to explore it at our leisure. And there were always new things to learn at school. Not to mention, the constant pressures of maintaining grades and dealing with other students.”
Both he and Allee had been too devoted to their studies to easily be swept away by ideas of adventure. Only the most dire mistake had made them leave in the end.
Meirin shook her head slowly. “What a waste. It sounds as if I should have been in a city, and you should have stayed in a clan. What about you, Delyth?” Meirin tried to engage the stoic warrior, though, by the expression on her features, it was clear she didn’t expect much success on this front. “Would you enjoy traveling?”
Really, if anyone was built for exploration, it was Delyth. She could get to new places so easily.
Delyth shook herself as though coming back to the present; her thoughts must have been leagues away. Etienne assumed that she would brush the question off, but she surprised him by giving it some thought.
“The last time someone asked me that, I had not much considered it. I was too concerned with my duty. If we make it out of this, though, and I recover Alphonse and manage to keep my freedom, then yes. I think I would like to see more of the world.”
That was the most hopeful Etienne had heard Delyth in a long time, and he smiled. Perhaps it had been speaking with Alphonse. Or the fact that they were at the gates of Gwynhafan with no sign of the Gods.
“I’ve just about had enough adventuring,” Etienne admitted. “At least for now. I used to dream of traveling to study with different masters of magic.”
“What? You don’t find me master enough? What about Delyth? She’s taught you plenty of rune and blood magic. Surely that lives up to your expectations?”
“You can never learn too much,” Etienne said sagely and leaned back, his bowl empty. He wasn’t going to criticize the teachings of either woman while he was still sparring with them regularly.
Delyth stood and scraped the remains of her meal into the brush. Stew didn’t exactly keep. “We should set a watch, so close to the city.”
“And be more tired when we have to get the artifact tomorrow?”
“Better than to wake at knifepoint and have our belongings stolen. Or worse, with Enyo and the others here.”
Etienne shook his head. “I can set a ward in a wide perimeter. And then we can ward our tents.”
Delyth hesitated for a long moment, but her own exhaustion seemed to weigh heavy on her. “Fine,” she said eventually before slicing a finger to ward her tent. “But don’t forget.”
Etienne nodded. Of course, he wouldn’t.
After Delyth disappeared, Meirin and Etienne sat in silence with only the fire’s popping to keep them company. She finished off her dinner and then resumed gazing at the city’s outline as the sounds of night arose around them. Most insect noises had died off by this time of the year, but then there were owls and other creatures that preferred the cloak of darkness.
Meirin watched as Etienne started the process of tracing a large circle around the campsite, his features contorted with concentration as he worked.
“You’ve lived an interesting life, Etienne,” she murmured, quiet as to not disturb Delyth in her tent. “You’ve been to so many places and seen so many things. I thought Mynydd Gwyllt was exciting—it’s one of the larger clans, after all. But now it seems so… small.”
Etienne smiled lopsidedly. “I was just thinking that school life was small. It didn’t feel like it at the time, but compared to this—” he gestured at the world around them. “It's been almost too much to take in.”
He walked over and sat down beside her once more, his ward complete and buzzing happily below his thoughts. “I think that new experiences must make our old lives feel small, though it seems a shame that we can’t see more of Gwynhafan tonight before we have to worry about the artifact.”
Something sparked behind Meirin’s eyes, and she leaned forward. “A shame indeed.” She looked towards Delyth’s tent and then scooted closer, voice low.
“I’m not all that tired,” she murmured, the yellow paint across her eyes making her black lashes look all the thicker as she covertly glanced towards the perimeter of their camp and the walls of Gwynhafan beyond. She looked mischievous, sharp-eyed. Beautiful.
“What are you saying?”He knew he was going to say yes before she answered his question.
“We could go into Gwynhafan. Look around. You know...” She shrugged. “Find the temple of Esha, learn the layout… It would be almost entirely tactical.”
A slow smile was creeping over Etienne’s face. “Of course. It would only aid the mission…”
His chest twinged a little in guilt at the idea of leaving Delyth, but she had warded her tent, and she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Besides, they d
idn’t have to be gone long…
He stood and offered Meirin a hand. “And if we just so happened to see some of the city along the way, even better.”
⥣ ⥣ ⥣
* * *
The walk into the city was a short one; the moon barely moved in the sky as Etienne and Meirin made their way past the gates and into the sprawling streets of Gwynhafan. The city was bustling with life even after the sun had set. The buildings had torches burning that illuminated their streets and doorways. It was so bright, when Meirin glanced up at the sky, she could hardly make out the stars. There were tanneries and butchers and blacksmiths. Apothecaries and seamstresses… Cursed Realms, there was just about a shop for everything!
“In Mynydd, the smith does all the metalwork,” Meirin explained as they paused to make way for a large group of people, standing by a shop proclaimed to be a jeweler. “There would be no need for them to learn only how to work silvers and golds.”
The cluster of people walking past was loud and boisterous, laughing and gesturing emphatically. She loved them for it. The population was predominantly dark-skinned, but there were the coppery tones of her own lineage, fair-skinned people like Delyth, and even the occasional islander, though they were far and few between. Meirin did note there were no winged people, and there was not a single person as devoid of color as Etienne. Tomorrow, he and Delyth would undoubtedly stand out.
Not that it mattered now.
Meirin started to follow after the laughing group, reaching back to catch Etienne’s hand and tugging him along. The group was composed mostly of young folk, their own age.
“Look how they dress! I haven’t seen a single set of furs and pelts yet. Of course, these are the lowlands, so their winters would be gentler, but still…” She loved the mixture of colors and patterns these Gwynhafans wore. “Where do you think they are going?”
✶
“Wherever it is, it smells amazing,” Etienne said, grinning. He took in a deep breath that carried with it the aromas of smoke and spices along with the less pleasant undercurrent of so many people living so close. “Let’s follow them and find out.”