Dryad's Touch

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Dryad's Touch Page 3

by A. W. Graybill


  In that moment she chose to rid herself of him to give herself space to think. “I will send word when I’ve made my decision, but you will leave for now.” Thaos smirked; his large hands covered hers. Staring at their hands, memories flooded back to her. Memories of their first kiss, of her binding to her husband Siva, of her and Thaos’s night of love, and, ultimately, of Siva’s death and her rebirth.

  “Go,” she said, quietly taking her hand back and turning to the pedestal. The smell of the night air vanished, leaving a longing in her.

  After he left, her knees gave out, and she clung to the pedestal. Could he have truly changed? In seeking the power of the one sword that could kill the gods, Void Waker, he had corrupted himself thousands of years ago. The sword held some deep hold over him. Thaos had spiraled so far out of control, giving into so many dark urges and beings that she had never fully comprehended or touched.

  Could he have truly come from those depths?

  She could not test his honesty. All, including Thena, would have nothing to do with Elona. Elona constantly prayed to the goddess, unsuccessfully over the past three thousand years. She knew the goddess was angry with her for everything she had done or Thaos had done with her.

  Elona’s hand trembled across the burn marks on her face and neck. Thaos had killed Siva. But he had done it for love, fueled from the anger of Siva killing her. Siva’s move had come first, yet they had been punished. In those days Thaos had not been cruel and cunning, leaving her to wonder how his siblings could have thought any ill will towards him at that time.

  There was a knock at her door, and she quietly stood, straightening her gown and hair while telling whomever it was to enter. Looking towards the door, she made her decision, setting her own plans in motion. Ones that she hoped she would not regret.

  Drudan opened the door after she had called for him. Before he could speak, she strode forward, leaving the runes unset. “Ready a small portion of our troops, magic or otherwise, and fetch me a messenger. We leave for Thanis tonight.”

  KARASIM

  The skies were constantly dark over the Shadow Kingdom of Thaos. Heavy clouds like a thick blanket prevented any ascended gods from seeing the darkened land below.

  Every so often streaks of lightning struck the ground, leaving behind dust and a charged atmosphere. Despite all appearances of a storm, rain only came once or twice in a month. The storm was formed not by nature but by the constant churning of a violet portal that lay in a crater at the center of the city Choráis. The portal led to the Shadow Realm, a realm where nearly all dark creatures escaped from. It was also a source of power for those who used it for dark magic.

  Built near to the center of the crater was a city decorated with banners of a white circle against a black backdrop. Thaos had carved Choráis out of obsidian he’d made rise straight out of lava. The surrounding homes were made of rock that jutted upwards from the ground like miniature mountains. With growth in population came buildings of wood and stone built close to the center. Some of the nobles had created a district close to the center of the city where a tower rose. However, most people who could afford it lived on the outskirts with roofing made from the same material as the older parts of the city, hoping to blend in with their dark lord while keeping a safe distance from the portal. The obsidian there gleamed more brightly from the magical crystal fields that lay to the east of its pulsing energy. The fields fed them more control over the lands and gave them constant light through the windows of the tower.

  Karasim stood on a balcony near the top of the tower and felt the pull of both portal and crystals. Always within Choráis he could feel it tugging at his mind. He’d seen some mortals not born within its overwhelming reach go mad. The power, the feeling, the intensity were too much for them. His father, Thaos, said gods had no risk of what the mortals succumbed to.

  Sometimes he wondered, having watched the changes in Thaos over those thousands of years, if that was true.

  “Father plans something,” his brother, Craith, grumbled through the silence, bringing Karasim’s attention back to him. Karasim stepped inside. Craith’s lips were pursed and his eyebrows heavy even though his muscular form relaxed against a dark wooden chair, long legs hanging over one arm while his raven, Vari, sat on his shoulder. While the raven’s beady eyes watched Karasim, Craith’s blue eyes, as bright as their father’s, looked at the weapons that lined the wall of his room. “Eusa informed me through Vari that he spoke with mother. Now he asks me to lead my troops to Thanis.”

  Karasim’s eyebrows rose. “They spoke at the boundary?” he asked. There had been times in the past that their parents had spoken. Elona always tried to gain peace. But since the peace would have been all on her terms or nothing at all, nothing came from it, and Thaos and Elona remained as bitter as they had been before. His father marched from battle to battle with them, testing her limits and patience.

  “No.” Craith’s attention turned to Karasim, his thick braid falling back over his shoulder, fingers forming a steeple close to his mouth. This was news then, thought Karasim as he eagerly approached Craith. “Mother granted him entrance to Talamnar, to her room. Something is going to happen soon. And Father will not tell me what.”

  Karasim chuckled. “Is this why you are so angry then?” He stood in front of his brother. The flames from the fireplace cast shadows across Craith’s face and dark hair, making him look more menacing than he was. Karasim knew his brother’s kind nature, a side only shown towards those the god was close to. Thaos drove kindness out of Craith in abundance long ago, before Thaos and Elona had separated. Even after all their father had put him through, Craith could kill hundreds in one moment and help a child in the next. Whether Thaos knew this or not, Karasim did not know. Whether he would allow it, Karasim dared not think about.

  Vari turned his head, keeping a constant watch on everything around him.

  “Tense, more like. The battle that I feel looming in the future... It doesn’t bode well.” Craith ran his hand over the scabbard that rested against his thigh. The sword it held, with its ruby-studded pommel and dark leather-wrapped handle, had been forged by dwarves that had joined their campaign long ago. Forged and infused with Craith’s magic, it poisoned anyone it cut, causing a slow, excruciating death while visibly passing through the victim’s body in the form of dark veins on the skin. The poison, thanks to Craith’s infused power, did not need replenishing. Only magic could cure it; magic that most humans did not possess.

  Karasim cringed at the thought, preferring to stay on the sidelines more than his siblings. Summoning, helping, and healing. The first time he pulled imps from the Shadow Realm, he’d had a hard time controlling their wild and, often, unpredictable nature. Eventually he was able to not tame them but make deals with them and pass them on to others while teaching others how to do the same. Imps were what he had loved first, what he had cared for first.

  A sudden presence entered his mind when he closed his eyes. Free floating, the soft voice echoed, making his heart swell. Karasim, is this a good time?

  It was Arisa Thrason, seventh-born and sworn to Elona. They had avoided one another once, even when they had lived side by side. Both took interest in other people. She, more notably, took interest in his brother Hathus. Of course Karasim had noticed her, her beauty. But he always felt it best to leave someone who could have been pulled from him at any moment alone.

  In recent years, they had met during a festival in Naxos. Arisa had been in disguise, Karasim was without. After this chance meeting, her interest in him had become great. It had been that night that, after many drinks, dances, and laughter, they had gone to bed in one another’s arms. When she showed her true self to Karasim, he had not given her immediate interest.

  They had ultimately linked their minds and spirits in blood. Blood magic was her specialty and her enchantments allowed them to communicate even at the greatest distances. Unlike a god binding, where he could have entered her mind, she was now able to enter his. And s
he could shut him off from hers.

  Craith knew the pact the two had made. He usually kept himself quiet on the issue.

  Craith stood without Karasim noticing, his deep blue eyes heavy on his brother while Vari flew to a post on the other side of the room.

  “Arisa?” Craith asked, voice strained as he folded his arms over his wide chest. The sword that had sat between his legs now rested against the chair. Karasim passed his hand through his short, dark brown hair, fingers brushing over the pointed edge of his ears before nodding, always uncertain of Craith’s reaction. “You know what Father will say—will do—if he finds out. You will have to end this one day.”

  “Will you be the one to tell him, brother?” Craith curled his fingers, but he would not answer. That, in itself, was answer enough for Karasim. “Besides, this news of Mother and Father could be a sign of better things to come instead of this foreboding feeling you have. Perhaps Arisa and I will be able to live in the open. Though I wonder why he has asked Mother to go to Thanis, I’ll not let it weigh heavily on the hope I have.”

  Karasim closed his eyes again, feeling for the floating connection the lovers held together. The tendrils pulled at his mind before wrapping around it.

  When he found her, the lines became taut. I’ll finish speaking with Craith, and then I will have time.

  There came an immediate response. The intensity of her words, the pressure it put on his mind, caused his eyes to snap open and his lips to part. Karasim, it is urgent. We need to meet this instant.

  Craith, perhaps knowing, shook his head in disapproval. His arms tensed under the dark fabric of his tunic. He had commented more than once about Karasim’s carelessness.

  “She’s asked to meet,” Karasim whispered, eyes sweeping across the large room, not wanting to see his brother’s disappointed look. “The way she sounded—”

  “Go,” Craith interrupted, turning away from him and striding to a small table in the middle of the room where a glass of wine had been prepared for him. “Enjoy the time you have with her before you lose her, and leave before I change my mind.” Karasim would have smiled. He found Craith’s teasing amusing, but his concern for Arisa prevented him from doing so.

  Eyelids falling once again, Karasim gripped his hands together and brought them to his forehead as reassurance and concentration. As old as he was, he still hated the feeling of moving from one place in the world to the next in an instant almost as much as he hated traveling to the other realms. His father and Karasim’s siblings seemed more accustomed to it and traveled freely. If his family felt their skin burning or the way it seemed the world tried to rip them apart, they didn’t let on.

  Opening his eyes, he found himself in the woods close to Talamnar. Their usual meeting spot aside from her room. They were unable to travel much farther unless she planned ahead. The woods that were near to the city were often unoccupied. Even hunters only traveled through during the day, knowing dangers that could lurk in the trees that Thaos had grown. Dangers that the immortals did not need to concern themselves with.

  He touched the tree that held their marking, three diagonal lines crossing through a circle. Simple and overlooked by others who passed through. This was not a clearing, and it was far enough from the edge of the wood for their comfort. Now he gazed into the night, searching for his lover.

  “Karasim,” she called, twigs snapping until finally she emerged, long white hair framing small, lithe features. He remembered when her hair had been a shade of burnt wood and her ever youthful features had been set on lightly tanned skin. That was before she had studied blood magic with his brother Hathus. Before she was sealed to Elona.

  It was expected she would turn pale, losing the healthier glow she once had, but something about the blood magic she performed had caused her hair to turn white. It was not uncommon for a bloodmage to take on these features, and quite often vampires held the same looks. He sometimes thought that if Elona had sealed her sooner, she might have kept her original appearance.

  It didn’t matter. This hair gave her otherwise plain features detailed beauty.

  Karasim briefly touched her face, feeling the softness of her skin, the heat in her cheeks. “What is it?” he gently inquired. There was a long silence, and her eyes darted across his face. Not much shorter than him, and he was short for a god, she didn’t have to crane her head back far to look at him.

  “Karasim,” she started but had to take a deep breath. When she grabbed his hand and pressed it against her chest, he could feel the erratic beat of her heart. She closed her eyes and spoke quickly. “Drudan told me that Thaos wants Elona to travel to Thanis. We all will be going while leaving a select few in charge of Talamnar. What do you know about this?” Though he had suspected this was the reason she wanted to meet, it still came as a surprise.

  Pulling away, he forced himself to speak in a level tone. “We made an agreement, Arisa.”

  “I know!” Arisa exclaimed, shaking her head. “I know, Karasim! We agreed not to speak about either side, to never use one another for information. But this has never happened before. I thought it best to ask. Drudan is angry, and some of my other siblings have already considered leaving their mark before we’ve even begun. And my brother…” Karasim bit his lip. Arisa did not need to say any more about Drudan. Everyone knew Drudan’s love ran deeper than the child-like love the others had for Elona. Knowing his mother gave to someone other than Thaos troubled Karasim, as it bothered all his siblings, and it wasn’t something he was keen on talking about.

  Arisa was right; the boundaries laid out before needed to be crossed.

  He let out a heavy sigh and leaned against a tree. “I know nothing of these plans, if Thaos is planning anything at all. I just received word from Craith that my parents had met. Craith has yet to hear anything more.” He took her hand to let her know he wasn’t angry. Tiny scars lined her fingers, remnants of her early experiments before she took Elona’s sealing mark that allowed her to heal more efficiently and without scars. “The only one who seems to know anything is Eusa, and I’ve not seen her. Nor do I think my sister would speak to me about it.”

  Arisa ran her free hand across the back of his; lines drifted from her face. “You would tell me if you knew anything, wouldn’t you?”

  Karasim scowled. They had agreed to keep things like this from their love life. For good reason, since neither would follow to the other’s side, both having their own reasons not to. It was hope for a better future that kept them coming back to one another secretly.

  She was right, he reminded himself. These were unusual circumstances. He wondered at his own actions, present and future. If he had known first, would he have told her? If he had been in her position, would he have come to her?

  Karasim pulled her close, tightly wrapping his arms around her slender body, resting his chin on the top of her head. His fingers grasped the fabric of her gown, a deep shade of red so fitting for her.

  After deeply inhaling the sweet and heavy scent of her hair, he whispered, “I would, Arisa. You know I would.” With information like this having come about, it made him question himself. It made him question his intentions. He wondered why he continued to work at his father’s side. Even after all that he saw him do, all Karasim had been made to do. He missed his mother’s firm yet kind rule. The rest of the world would turn him out, but it was only his mother and his lover who would accept him after all the things he’d done at his father’s command. Yet it was still that fear of acceptance that held him away.

  Elona made moves Karasim didn’t approve of, but he could confront neither of his parents on their beliefs. So he stayed with the stronger of the two, just as his siblings had.

  Arisa made him long for freedom more every day. Before their union, he was simply living day to day within emptiness. Abiding his father just to abide, having nothing more except the allure of power.

  “I should go,” she said, slightly muffled with her face halfway pressed to his chest. He held tighter for a
moment longer before releasing her, sweeping a hand through her hair as she took a step back. “I think this is something we should keep in contact about,” she said with certainty. “I think the days are coming. The ones the prophets speak of.”

  Karasim nodded with dread filling his heart; finally he had something more than the imps that he could lose.

  “I think so too,” he said. “If only we gods were able to see. The prophets are able to tap into something we cannot, even with our power. Nothing is certain, Arisa. Nothing is promised as so many see numerous paths. Remember that.”

  “No. I think it would be much easier if it were. If we knew all the details and not some vague ramblings of a half-mad mortal.” When their eyes met again, he knew it was something they agreed on. There was no knowledge of what would happen to the world, to each individual after the coming gods’ war would end. Only the final battle between the gods was known along with vague references of what would happen leading to that point.

  With no indication of who would be left alive when the god slaying sword Void Waker was set free, it made him yearn to follow Arisa when she left. After all, a year could feel like a day to the immortals, but a day could feel like an eternity.

  HIGH ELDER

  The island Vheria was like an emerald dotted with gold amidst the large sapphire sea of Kana.

  High Elder Shen Bresa placed his hand against the silver tinted glass window that overlooked the treetops, out towards the sea where the light of Vhedril began to peak. The other island, Ghela, was there. They all knew it. They felt it in their bones, and it hardened in their souls. And though it took a day or less to journey across the sea, it felt farther away, yet, at the same time, the danger was too close.

 

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