34. A Choice
Chapter 34
A Choice
T he further Elnok walked down the path of crooked trees, the more his heart faltered. He’d already stopped multiple times, turning around, considering what it would mean to run back to Sylzenya and Kharis—to help them fight.
To stay with her until the end.
But he couldn’t.
Staring at the glowing medicine vial, a sweet relief etched itself into his bones; he’d done it. And yet, as the fog billowed around his thighs, the momentary relief vanished, replaced by a deep chill settling into his veins. He cursed. Sylzenya and Kharis had to fight a god .
How could he leave them?
For Orym.
For Orym.
A shock ran up his spine as he touched the leather of his newly gifted whip. His breaths came easier, his vision sharpened, and his limbs grew stronger. He unwound it, letting it slap against the forest floor with a loud crack .
Uncanny. This weapon felt less like an object and more like a part of himself. An extension, as if he could feel the ground quiver in his veins. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised, considering it was crafted by a goddess, but he’d never felt anything like it. He’d always gotten along fine with his sword, rope, and dagger, but now… now he had power.
“Power like Sylzenya,” he whispered.
He shouldn’t have uttered her name. It wasn’t that his heart was misguiding him, but rather his heart had been split in half. Gods, he was going to return to Orym and heal him, but at what cost? Leaving behind someone he’d grown to care for just as much as his crew? And what of his role in helping humanity as a whole?
Fuck.
Sylzenya’s righteousness had been rubbing off on him. Humanity’s plight wasn’t his to care for. Those who were closest to him… that was his humanity to save. Sacrifices had to be made to do so, and his obsession with this woman was no exception.
Fool.
This wasn’t an obsession. If it was , he could say his unyielding desire for her was a problem.
But she wasn’t a problem—far from it.
He laughed to himself. He’d gone as far as thinking she was his personal hell, and she had been at first, but it’d changed so quickly. She’d gone from devoting her life to a crazed lie to denouncing everything she’d ever known and saving his life in the process. She’d understood his pain—met him in it. They’d laughed together, cried together, held each other.
She’d been so easy to be with. He didn’t just tolerate her… he liked talking with her, looking at her, just being with her.
He shook his head. Dreams were dangerous in this world. He should’ve known better than to grow so attached.
Turn around.
Don’t let them fight this alone.
He ignored his thoughts. Instead, he ruminated on the conversation he’d had with Kharis.
“I promised I would protect you,” Kharis had said, “that as long as I was by your side, no harm would come to you. And I failed, much like your brother.”
Elnok had explained to Kharis he understood why.
“You forgive me because I wasn’t in my right mind. Does this change anything now you know your brother wasn’t either? That Distrathrus had him under his control with his blood wine?”
Perhaps it should've changed his perspective, but it didn't. Under a god’s control or not, Tosh wasn’t a stranger he’d met days ago—he was his brother. His protector. He’d decided to drink the wine when their parents died, and it’d been his hands that put the scars on Elnok’s back.
“You never have to forgive Tosh,” Kharis had replied, “I just need to tell you what he won’t share with you.”
The Dynami had proceeded to explain how once a year, Tosh hosted a month-long vigil in Elnok’s honor, putting on multiple festivals, and scraping the last of their trading reserves to make Elnok’s favorite food—raspberry biscuits. Vendors would share their fondest moments of Elnok, all the while, Tosh sat and listened, eventually retreating to the castle and crying himself to sleep. Kharis had ran into him on one of those nights, and it’d led to their relational spark.
It’d taken everything within Elnok to not break down out of anger and sorrow. He missed his brother, and hearing this made him remember what their brotherhood had been before their parents died—before Tosh went insane. His brother had always been more intentional than he ever needed to be.
Yet even this didn’t change anything.
No amount of guilt or remorse could smooth over what Tosh had done to him.
“You don’t need to forgive him,” Kharis repeated, “but you do need to move on. Both of you do. Whatever it means to you, do it. Never talking to him again, forgiving him and pursuing a sibling-ship… just let him know what you decide. Let the past be what it is, but don’t let it take away from your future—the joys, the happiness, the excitement. You deserve more than that. And Tosh does too.”
Elnok had pulled Kharis into an embrace, confessing that, even though he couldn’t stand Tosh, he was glad Kharis made his brother happy.
Kharis had smiled. “We’ll see each other again someday. I have no doubt about that, Elnok Rogdul. And if you can, let Tosh know I love him before you depart for your life on the sea.”
Elnok had promised he would, had turned and hadn’t dared look back, because if he did…
For Orym.
For Orym.
Elnok, Orym’s voice echoed in his mind, if you don’t come back in one piece ? —
I will.
Elnok’s head swam with memories…
Let the past be what it is, but don’t let it take away from your future, Kharis’ voice echoed.
If I’m going to give you the medicine, you need to be honest with not just me, but yourself, Aretta had said.
I don’t think I would’ve laughed half as often during this godsdamned famine if it wasn’t for all our misadventures, Orym had confessed. But good things must come to an end, even if it’s sooner than we had hoped. And just because I’m gone doesn’t mean your life stops too, Elnok.
Elnok’s breaths stalled. Sylzenya’s deep blue eyes and full smile burned in his vision, a light in the darkness of Lhaal Forest.
I’ll never forget you, she’d whispered.
Grinding his teeth until his jaw hurt, he cracked the whip against the ground again. And again. And again. He hadn’t told her how he’d been falling in love with her, hadn’t because if he was willing to leave her like this, did he actually love her?
Orym hadn’t asked him to get the medicine. Orym hadn’t wanted Elnok to get it in the first place. Looking up into the shadowed sky, realization flooded him as if it was raining on his skin. He’d chosen Orym’s fate for him. He’d decided he wouldn’t die, not listening to what Orym kept trying to tell him:
That Elnok’s life mattered too.
His choices, his wants, his decisions—they mattered to Orym, so much so his friend would probably kill him if he returned. He could hear him even now…
You left the most beautiful, intelligent, and bravest woman you’ve ever met to defeat a god of unparalleled power bent on destroying humanity? All because you wanted to save me? Elnok Rogdul, I mean it when I say this—I’ve never been more disappointed in you in my entire fucking life.
Learning Elnok could’ve helped save humanity wouldn’t just make Orym mad, Orym would take it upon himself as the reason humanity was in jeopardy. He’d twist Elnok’s words and motivations and think it was his fault, not Elnok’s. Orym would be healed, but he’d be a guilt-ridden mess for the years to come.
As much as Elnok hated to admit it, he would be too.
I ’ ll never forget you.
Sylzenya’s eyes, full and constant as the sea.
I’ll never forget you.
Her strength an anchor in his body.
I’ll never forget you.
Her love a salve on his twisted, broken heart.
Taking one more look at the glowing medicine vial, Elnok spun around.
Dozens of glowing red eyes shone through the shadows, a small chorus of chitters echoing along the branches, flitting through the trees.
He dug in his pocket and took out the compass to Aretta’s Willow. Hope sparked in his chest—it’d begun to glow again, and he knew it wasn’t pointing towards the tree. It would be pointing towards the one who had killed the goddess, the one who had her power.
It was pointing to Sylzenya.