Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
RHAZIR
The path down to Eletheria's harbor wound like a ribbon of marble through terraces that bloomed with impossible beauty, each turn revealing new wonders that made my heart ache with loss I hadn't yet fully accepted.
My pack hung heavy on my shoulders, not from its weight, which was modest enough, but from what it represented.
The canvas sack tucked carefully within held items more precious than gold or jewels, things I couldn't bear to leave behind even knowing they would only torment me with memories in the dark days ahead.
The island seemed determined to display all its splendor as I descended, as if bidding me farewell with every graceful curve of architecture, every fountain that sang with crystal voices, every garden where flowers bloomed in defiance of any earthly season.
Here was a world built not for the strong alone, but for anyone who could appreciate beauty for its own sake.
The paths were carved wide enough for old men with walking sticks, the steps shallow enough for children to climb without struggle, the temples open to any who sought their peaceful embrace.
How different this was from the Three Isles, where only the strongest could make the treacherous climb to the palace carved into black cliffs, where only those who had proven their worth in blood could earn an audience with the king.
Our architecture spoke of conquest and intimidation, walls built to repel invaders, towers designed to spot enemy ships on distant horizons, chambers constructed to echo the screams of the condemned.
When had we become so cruel? When had strength become our only virtue, fear our only tool of governance?
The harbor spread below me like a jeweled tapestry, its waters reflecting the afternoon sun in patterns of gold and turquoise that danced with each gentle wave.
Ships bobbed at anchor, sleek vessels with painted hulls and silken sails, nothing like the grim war galleys that darkened our own ports.
Even here, surrounded by commerce and purpose, people moved with unhurried grace, stopping their work to greet neighbors, to laugh at shared jests, to simply exist in the moment rather than rush toward some distant goal.
I found a captain willing to take passengers among the forest of masts, a weathered man whose eyes held the patient wisdom of decades spent reading wind and wave. His ship was built for cargo rather than comfort, but the coin I offered was generous enough to secure his private cabin.
"The Three Isles, you said?" His expression grew thoughtful. "Haven't had cause to sail those waters in years. Dangerous seas, those. Pirates and worse."
"We'll pay whatever price you name," I replied, pulling more silver from my purse than most men saw in a year.
His eyebrows rose at the sight, but he didn't question the source of such wealth. "Passage for two, departing at dawn. The cabin's yours, though it's not much to speak of. Built for function, not luxury."
"Function will serve us well enough."
We shook hands on the bargain, his palm rough with rope burns and salt, mine callused from sword work. "Mind you're here when the tide turns," he warned. "I'll not wait past sunrise, coin or no coin."
I promised we would be ready, though the words felt like ash in my mouth.
Ready for what? To drag Serin from paradise back to a realm that would crush everything beautiful within him?
To watch the crown transform the laughing young man I loved into another grim monarch obsessed with conquest and control?
After securing our passage, I remained on the docks, watching the bustle of life that surrounded me.
No grim faces here, weathered by constant hardship.
No leathery skin hanging loose on frames hollowed by hunger.
No wails of pain from those who had offended their betters, no sighs of resignation from people who had given up hope of anything better.
These people were alive in ways I'd never imagined possible.
Merchants paused in their negotiations to share wine with competitors who might have been enemies elsewhere.
Children played games that involved laughter rather than violence.
Workers set down their tools to listen when musicians struck up melodies on street corners, coins flowing freely from purses opened in appreciation rather than fear.
The temples rising behind the commercial district put our grandest shrines to shame - not through size or ostentation, but through the peace that radiated from their marble walls.
Priests moved among the people offering blessings freely given, accepted with joy rather than the desperate hope of those who had nothing left to lose.
How had the Three Isles strayed so far from whatever path had once made them great?
We had precious metals locked away in vaults while our people scraped bare livings from unforgiving soil.
Our carpenters, who could craft works of art that would be treasured for generations, were put to work making siege engines and catapults.
Blacksmiths whose skill rivaled the legendary artificers of old spent their days forging swords and spears instead of the delicate clockwork mechanisms I'd glimpsed in Eletherian workshops.
Our jewelers decorated warships with fearsome splendor while common folk wore rags. Our fishermen hunted whales for lamp oil when they could have been diving for pearls to trade for the moonstones that lit these streets with gentle radiance.
I was no statesman, no diplomat trained in the subtle arts of commerce and governance.
Perhaps my betters saw wisdom in our current course that escaped my simple soldier's understanding.
But it felt wrong, this endless cycle of taking rather than making, of destroying beauty in other lands rather than creating it in our own.
We could make good things. Instead, we made weapons to steal good things from others. Where was the sense in that?
The thought brought me back to Serin, and with it came a wave of emotion so intense it nearly drove me to my knees on the salt-stained planks.
Through the connection that hummed between us like a plucked harp string, I felt his despair as if it were my own.
The anguish threatened to drown me, to pull me under waves of grief and self-recrimination that had nothing to do with my own feelings.
He was suffering. Alone somewhere in this paradise we had briefly shared, he was drowning in pain that I had caused with my clumsy handling of impossible duties. The knowledge that he hurt because of my actions was worse than any physical wound I had ever endured.
I had to find him. Had to explain why I had done what duty demanded, had to make him understand that my betrayal came not from lack of love but from too much of it.
If I was to drag him back to the Three Isles, if I was to watch the crown destroy everything bright within him, at least I could ensure our final hours together weren't poisoned by misunderstanding.
The captain had said dawn. That gave me the night to locate Serin, to secure his agreement to our departure, to somehow bridge the chasm my necessary deception had opened between us. It seemed an impossible task, but then again, so had winning his love in the first place.
I shouldered my pack and turned away from the harbor, retracing my steps up the winding paths toward the palace that crowned Eletheria like a jeweled diadem.
But first, I had one more stop to make, an errand that duty demanded even as my heart pulled me toward the man whose pain echoed in my chest like a second heartbeat.
Tomorrow we would sail for home, leaving paradise behind for a world that had forgotten how to value anything but strength.
But tonight... tonight I would do everything in my power to ensure we faced that bleak future together rather than apart. Whatever bridges my deception had burned, I would find a way to rebuild them before dawn painted the eastern sky.
Even if it cost me everything I had left to give.