22. Mine to Keep, Yours to Lose
Chapter 22
Mine to Keep, Yours to Lose
S weet-smelling tea drifted in the sunroom while a tart raspberry biscuit crumbled in Elnok’s mouth. Brown dust blew across the crystal-cut windows, the dark brick of Vutror’s castle walls shielding them from one of Druenia’s heavy winds.
“Elnok, dearest, is it archery or astronomy today?” his mother asked, her thin yet strong fingers gripping her favorite black teacup.
“Archery was yesterday,” his father answered gruffly, his eyes trained on a freshly delivered letter, the paper sealed with a golden Estean leaf, tied to a dark wine bottle, “arithmetic today.”
“It’s anthropology,” Elnok replied with a quick grin as he took another bite of biscuit, “Or was it art?”
“Perhaps assholery?” The familiar voice of his brother quipped as Tosh opened the broad double doors of the room, “A subject you truly thrive in, brother.”
Elnok twisted in his chair. Tosh stood with the air of a royal, black hair flowing to his chest, pale green eyes just like their father’s, and a thin smile like their mother’s. Elnok didn’t hesitate as he threw the raspberry biscuit, the breakfast treat sailing through the air, heading right for Tosh’s head.
Feigned shock followed by a quick dodge had his brother stumbling to the floor.
“Elnok!” their mother scolded, “What have we said about throwing biscuits of all things in the sunroom?”
But Elnok ignored her warning as he lept for his brother, Tosh’s shock turning to twisted laughter as they met on the floor. Blue and red carpet pilled underneath them as they jabbed for each other’s stomachs and groins. If mother was scolding them, they didn’t hear her. Tosh delivered the final blow, causing Elnok to curl into himself while laughter fell from his mouth.
“Assholery?” Elnok gasped between breaths. He smiled wide at his brother six years his senior, “That’s the best you could come up with?”
Tosh smiled as he stood, extending his hand with a warm grin on his face.
“I’m not the one throwing raspberry biscuits or sneaking out into the city instead of attending my lessons, am I?”
“Could do you some good.”
“Just get up, you miscreant,” Tosh laughed.
Elnok reached for the strong hand of his brother. Suddenly, something cold and dark wrapped around Elnok’s arm, his stomach, his throat. The face of his brother shifted from mirth to terror. Heavy silence gripped the room. Elnok turned to ask their parents what was wrong only to find his mother’s and father’s bodies having withered into pale skeletons, turning into ash as they fell to the floor.
His mother’s teacup shattered against cold brick.
“You,” Tosh growled through bared teeth, “my own brother, trying to kill me… for this?”
Vutror’s crown now sat on his brother’s head, blue and red jewels shining like blood in the dark sea.
“No, Tosh, please—” Elnok begged as he backed away, the rug replaced with biting stone.
Tosh yanked his arm. Elnok yelled as his brother quickly grabbed his throat?—
“ No !” a woman’s voice screamed, “ Stop hurting him, please !”
Searing hot pain hissed against Elnok’s flesh as reality came into focus. Sylzenya kneeled in front of him, her face covered in tears while vines wrapped around her body.
“Then you’ll do as I say,” Distrathrus commanded, removing the sword covered in orodyte serum from his back, a swell of relief aching in Elnok’s skin, “Take the cure, and this thief will be escorted home without so much as another scar.”
Panting and clenching his jaw, Elnok locked his gaze with Sylzenya’s. “Don’t listen to him.”
“I’m not going to let him hurt you,” she replied.
“He’ll do it anyways, and he’ll have you under his control.”
Sylzenya turned to Distrathrus, “You promise he’ll return home safely if I take the cure?”
Dread spiked in his veins. “Sylzenya, no .”
“Of course,” Distrathrus replied.
“He’s lying ,” Elnok sneered.
“I’ll do it.”
Elnok meant to yell for her to stop, but Kharis’ hand covered his mouth, his pleas muffled.
“Excellent. Nyla, you may release her. Kharis, you’ll be in charge of burning him if she refuses to cooperate at any point.”
Elnok threw back his head, earning a grunt from Kharis and a loosened grip on his mouth. “Sylzenya, don’t do th ?—”
A vine wrapped around his mouth, pulling back until it sat between his teeth. He tried biting through it, but it was as tough as stone. Eyes widened, Elnok struggled against the vines, wishing he could stab Distrathrus in the chest. Estea’s leader—the god of chaos—moved around him and towards Sylzenya, presenting her with a small glass vial filled with black liquid, the pale moonlight filtering through the trees giving it a glossy glow.
“Pour this on your cut,” he instructed. “ All of it.”
Elnok shouted for her to stop, his screams and yells muffled.
Her deep blue eyes found his, a look of regret stitched into her face as she took the vial from Distrathrus’ pale hand. Dread and guilt and darkness consumed him as Sylzenya uncorked the bottle, her throat bobbing as she placed it over her shoulder, the opening of her cut already dripping with blood.
She froze.
Distrathrus lifted his hand.
Searing pain ruptured through Elnok’s flesh as Kharis placed the sword against his back, disjointed memories of Tosh flickering in and out of his mind’s eye. Desperation laced through Elnok’s veins as he begged for the nightmare to end.
“Enough!” Sylzenya said.
Elnok regained his sense of self, the vine in his mouth falling to the ground. He looked up, and everything within him turned into ice. Sylzenya tipped the vial, pouring every last drop of the black liquid into her cut. Shrieking, she fell to her knees, the glass thudding into the dirt while her fingers gripped the soil. Her veins raised against her skin—turning black.
“Very good, Sylzenya. Now, stay down. It’ll take some time for you to adjust.”
“You fucking bastard!” Elnok screamed . “I’m going to kill you!”
“So many threats, and for what?” Distrathrus hissed as he kneeled in front of him, his back to Sylzenya. “To protect a woman who’s part of the reason your entire continent suffers?”
“What are you talking about?” Elnok spat.
Distrathrus smiled. “A few days by her side and you think you know her, is that right?”
“I know she’d never do anything to hurt anyone.”
His smile widened. “My acolytes and Kreenas do more than create food and water for our people. They’ve been helping me gather the resources to resurrect my true form for centuries, Sylzenya proving the most powerful out of them all.”
“You’re insane,” Elnok hissed.
Distrathrus sneered, digging into his robes and pulling out a piece of yellow orodyte. “Every Estean believes these store the earth’s impurities, and this is how Kreenas are able to create vegetation. But it’s only partially true.”
Elnok’s stomach soured, his head spinning.
“In my sister’s last attempt to destroy me, she filled the entire continent with her power, spreading it as far and wide as possible so I couldn’t use it for my restoration. But she didn’t consider the other ways I could gather it.” He flipped the stone in his hand. “I utilized my resources—her very people—convincing every Kreena and acolyte over the centuries to unknowingly reclaim my sister’s power by storing it in these stones. I then use your generously given Vutrorian steel to perform a perfect extraction, the ore specially made by my sister’s hand and the only substance able to break through orodyte.” He tilted his head. “These women think they create life, when in reality, they steal it.”
Elnok’s chest tightened, spots forming at the corners of his eyes.
“But you know what I find most interesting?” Distrathrus continued, “In order to take life, there’s always a cost, and these women don’t even question the pain it brings them.”
“You’re the reason their backs fucking bleed?” Elnok yelled.
“You make it sound so… distasteful.” Distrathrus’ yellow eyes narrowed. “But that’s besides the point, Elnok. What I’m very curious to know is would you still love a woman who’s been stealing life from your land? The reason you have famines, the culprit behind your droughts, the origin of your sickness?” He paused, rotating the stone in his hand. “The reason your friend will die in a few short days?”
Everything grew distant and cold, the trees bent in the wrong shape, his mouth dry and parched.
“You’re lying,” Elnok seethed, his arms trembling and vision blurring.
“You certainly wish that were true, don’t you, thief?”
Elnok didn’t dare break eye contact.
“Why tell me any of this?”
The High One grinned. “Because, Elnok, before I have Kharis kill you in these next precious moments, I need you to understand that Sylzenya was never going to be yours. She was and always will belong to me.” He slid his cold hand across Elnok’s face. “Mine to keep, yours to lose.”
Elnok clenched his jaw, a scream sitting in the back of his throat, every part of him desiring nothing more than to tear this god apart limb by limb.
“If what you say is true, then orodyte serum isn’t poison, it’s your sister’s power. And that means Sylzenya’s father put a goddess’ power into her body, not toxins,” Elnok snarled. “He meant for her to defeat you.”
Distrathrus tilted his head. “Far more observant than your brother, I’ll give you that much. But Theraden’s plan was never going to work. I’ve convinced everyone—including Sylzenya—orodyte serum is poison, and once one believes in something so firmly, there would never be a reason for them to think otherwise; there’s no using my sister’s power without knowing the truth. Anyways, now that my undiluted blood has entered Sylzenya’s body, it’s eradicated all of my sister’s power from her veins.”
Bright yellow light suddenly illuminated the grove. Elnok turned to the source: the willow tree growing behind the marble throne surged with magic. But it was the person standing next to it that shone the brightest. Her hand was pressed onto its trunk, her hair and skin bright as the sun.
Elnok’s heart leapt into his throat.
“Impossible,” Distrathrus yelled, “ Kharis! Nyla! What are you two doing standing around like that? Stop her now !”
Soil shifted underneath Elnok’s knees. Distrathrus staggered back, yelling at the Kreenas and Dynameis. It shook again, this time so hard Elnok collapsed, the vines wrapping around his body falling limp. Fighting the tremors and untangling himself from the vines, he managed to stand.
All color drained from his face.
“Elnok, the compass is in his pocket!” Sylzenya shouted, her hair and robes floating as if she was suspended in water, one arm planted on the ground, the other secured to the tree.
Thick vines shot up from the earth, one of them close to spearing Elnok’s foot. He stepped aside, heart pounding against his chest, streams of light swirling around the rising vines—guiding them. They struck like snakes, light flashing through the air as they grabbed the Kreenas, Dynameis, and then Distrathrus, twisting around their bodies and securing them in place.
“Sylzenya, I command you to stop this at once!” Distrathrus shouted.
“ Now , Elnok.”
Purpose surged through his body as he rushed for Distrathrus and rummaged through his white robes.
“You insolent little thief,” Distrathrus spat, wrestling against the vines, “Go into Lhaal Forest, and you die. My monsters will make sure of it.”
Elnok’s hand slipped over the familiar cold metal of the compass. He pulled it out, the object glowing with the piece of bark at its center.
“With her by my side? I’ll take my chances,” he replied, “but before I go…”
Elnok picked up the glowing sword from the ground and swung it high above his head.
“ No! ” Sylzenya screamed.
But Elnok didn’t care what Sylzenya said or felt when it came to this god. Distrathrus had manipulated her and the Esteans, using the Kreenas and acolyte’s magic to kill Elnok’s homeland. Distrathrus deserved to die.
Elnok speared Distrathrus in that soft spot just below his rib cage, angling it up as he pushed with all his strength. He choked, spit raining down as his yellow eyes widened, but no scream came from his mouth.
“You think a god can be killed so easily?” Distrathrus sneered, a large cruel smile forming on his mouth.
No blood poured from his chest or his mouth, just wheezing breaths as his smile grew. Gulping, Elnok backed away.
“Elnok, we have to go, now!” Sylzenya shouted from the tree, “I don’t know how long my power will last!”
Distrathrus grinned. “She may be saving you now, little thief, but her power has killed countless people from your land. No matter how badly she wants to be a hero, she’ll always be your ruin.”
Elnok shouted a curse as he ripped Kharis’ sword from the god’s human body and ran for Sylzenya, the cold compass in his hand no longer pointing south, but east. Sylzenya released herself from the tree, the vines still holding everyone as she grabbed his hand and led them out of the grove.
They ran through forest, sprinted across meadows, and dashed past a lake until they made it to the large white wall. They sneaked their way around the wall guard, his patrol taking him far enough away for them to pass through unnoticed.
As they ran into the shadows of Lhaal Forest, Sylzenya stumbled to her knees, the magical glow emanating from her body blowing out like a candle at its wick’s end.
Elnok caught her as she lost consciousness, heaving her up into his arms.
The chitters and scraping sounds of the forest sent shivers up Elnok's spine as he stumbled forward. Exhaustion swept in, his body aching from being beaten and burned; he couldn't go much further. At last, he spotted a cave, carefully and quietly, he approached before laying Sylzenya down on the cracked dirt. He sat next to her, hand steady on the sword’s hilt, the other holding the compass.
The longer he sat in the darkness, the more everything that’d just transpired became real, became heavy , like boulders stacking on his shoulders. Sylzenya’s chest rose and fell, her breaths harsh and quick. Her magic had been beyond anything he’d witnessed in his few days in Estea, so much so that Distrathrus seemed surprised as well.
Elnok’s stomach dropped.
Her cut.
Quickly, he rolled her to her side, set on tending to her back, only to find it had scabbed over. Dried blood clung to her skin—far too much of it. Yet she still breathed.
Sweat built along his neck, a new sense of disgust rising in his throat.
What if she’d depleted more resources from Druenia?
He shouldn’t be feeling this way. She didn’t know what she’d been doing all these years. She didn’t know she and her people had been making his and everyone else’s lives a fight for survival. She didn’t know Distrathrus had been using her magic to kill. Hell, she’d been consuming a poisoned wine keeping her under a god’s suggestive will.
And yet, his anger and disgust remained.
He slammed his fist into the ground. No matter how he spun it, the truth remained—Druenia’s famines, droughts, and sickness were due to this kingdom’s godsforsaken magic.
And Sylzenya was at the helm.
He didn’t know what to do with this. All he knew is that he wouldn’t be able to look at her the same, and gods, he hated himself for it.
As he rested his head against the cave’s wall and spun his gold ring, he contemplated how Distrathrus’ existence and plan to dominate fucking humanity changed Elnok’s goal.
But did it?
He’d meant it when he told Orym he would get his medicine, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let this god get in his way.
The key to finding Aretta’s Willow wasn’t just the compass anymore, but making it through this forest; he needed Sylzenya’s magic as their protection, even if her utilizing it meant depleting resources in Druenia—even if it meant a few more people died. Distrathrus said Sylzenya wasn’t a hero, but neither was Elnok. Stealing was his occupation, and there was no room for mercy in such dealings.
All that mattered was his and his crew’s survival. He’d get Orym’s cure, get out of Estea, gather his crew, and then sail far away from this place.
Once Sylzenya woke, they’d escape this hell once and for all.