Kyzen
When I sink my fingers into the ground to feed or recharge—whatever you want to call it—my power, I form a deep connection to the realm itself.
The cool dirt, the muted pulse beneath the grass, the quiet way everything fits together. It settles into me without effort.
That same sensation brushes against me now.
It isn’t coming from the realm, though. It comes from them.
Five strangers, walking where they shouldn’t, carry a familiarity I can’t place and don’t question.
My power pushes, begging me to put it to use, but the warning V gave continues to rumble in my mind, halting me from giving in to the demand.
Aside from swearing that if we didn’t harm Willow, they wouldn’t harm us, he warned my brothers and me that they could be our greatest allies or greatest enemies.
He told us to focus on making a connection with these men, while not interfering with Thayla or Willow.
We’ve been trying to do that.
Amick had his one moment, but I don’t believe he would’ve interfered with their conversation had Thayla not sought him out. Other than that, he’s been a silent observer. He’s cataloging everything he can about the five foreigners.
So am I.
They’re fit and built like any other god, probably even better than some, but it’s their power that garners the most of my attention.
Each of their energies hums differently. Not loud, aggressive, or in a show of strength. Just noticeable and undeniable.
They are a powerhouse of men.
And woman. Willow’s far from lacking, from what I sense.
There’s a thin line for mediation when it comes to beings that hold the amount of power the ten of us have. You either get along or you eventually go to blows over your differences. Bloodshed between our two groups would be devastating.
There’s no doubt in my mind.
Therefore, we’ll all get along.
I’ll make sure of it.
I don’t get any bad or negative feelings from the Vito men.
Just unrelenting protectiveness over Willow. Their Primary as Corentin explained. Explained is a stretch. He said she’s our Primary and we’re her Nexus and that was that.
The reverence in his tone, though, revealed the importance of that relationship more than his words did.
There’s a sense of authority surrounding him, but it’s vastly different than what we’re used to from the Beginning Gods or, say, the Chancellors.
He hasn’t spoken down to his Nexus members or any of us, and there’s a great deal of fondness in his features when he looks at any of his people.
Caspian is a quiet spectator, yet any opportunity to bait Riven into a small spat, he takes. It brings me great pleasure to see someone rile him up for a change.
Draken’s a fucking hilarious chatterbox. He’s carrying the conversations with inappropriate jokes that his fellow Nexus members scold him for. He includes all of us, but he’s most certainly working overtime on trying to break the scowl on Creed’s face.
That’s not going to happen right now…
Tillman confuses the shit out of me. Mostly because he’s barely spoken, but also, I’ve never seen someone his size with the temperament he exudes. He reminds me a lot of Iric. His face doesn’t lack emotion, yet it also never wavers unless he’s shooting his Primary a cryptic glance.
There’s an air of calm and unmatched patience around him.
“As the God of Time, you should know a thing or two about patience, shouldn’t you?”
My gaze cuts to the man of my thoughts and narrows. “Where did that come from?”
He taps his temple. “You gods don’t know how to put up a mental block. You’re all loud as fuck.”
“You can hear our thoughts?”
“Yep,” he says with an undeniable hint of smug satisfaction.
“Oh, I don’t like that shit one little bit. No one should hear my songs unless I’m singing out loud,” Riven says.
Corentin, Draken, and Caspian cock their heads to the side as Tillman nods like he one hundred percent agrees with him.
Fuck.
I hope to hell he hasn’t been thinking some murderous, chaotic shit.
“Thanks for the damn warning, V,” I say.
“He always had the intention of telling you. He wanted to make sure you four were trustworthy first.”
“Well, deceiving us doesn’t really help with us trusting them, now does it?”
“I wasn’t deceiving any of you. We don’t know you, and you don’t know us. Just as you all have been planning what to do in order to protect your Pri—Binder if we attack, we’ve been doing the same. We’re all prepared to use every advantage we have,” Tillman says.
The open honesty shocks me for a second, then I get over it. If he’s heard everything we’ve thought since they arrived, then he knows we mean them no harm as well. As long as they don’t make a move toward Thayla or us.
“I’ve got the best advantage,” Draken cheers, winking at all of us.
“Are you talking about your penis?” Riven whisper-yells, horrified, and I hang my head.
That was a thought that should’ve stayed in his mind.
“My dragon.” Draken laughs, not the least bit fazed by Riven’s shit.
“Speaking of that, are you really a dragon, and if so, does that mean you can fly?”
“What kind of question is that, Riven?” I ask behind the chuckle I didn’t mean to let slip free.
“Um, a normal one. It’s not like I can see his wings or anything.”
“Well, did you maybe consider it could be offensive to ask that?”
“Honestly, no. The thought didn’t even cross my mind.”
“Meh, no offence at all. I’m the biggest and fastest creature in the sky,” Draken states, and Riven scoffs.
“Taurnshit. We’ve got creatures that are undoubtedly faster. I won’t believe this nonsense until I see it.”
“Are you trying to go for a flight?”
A massive, mischievous smile takes over Riven’s face. “Are you offering?”
“No, he isn’t. Enough, Draken. We told you before we came that you weren’t shifting unless it was an emergency,” Corentin declares, not taking his eyes off the strange thing in his hand.
“Oh, come on, boss man. I won’t shift into my biggest size. Just big enough to put him on my back.”
“I said no, and it isn’t even me who gave the original order. Willow made that clear.”
Draken’s shoulders sag. “Fine, you’re right, she did. She also told you the communicators wouldn’t work, yet that hasn’t stopped you from dragging it out of your pocket a hundred times.”
“He’s glanced at it eight times since you all arrived. Regardless, is that what its function is? To communicate?” Amick asks, and I hide my smirk.
“Yes. This is what we use to send and receive messages from one to another,” Corentin says, flashing him the device.
“May I?”
Creed grunts, shoving Amick’s hand back down as he reaches toward Corentin. “You’re as bad as Thayla wanting to touch random shit.”
“It isn’t random. Although it’s apparently useless, it’s a piece of knowledge from their realm that I’d like to examine.”
“Here,” Caspian grumbles, handing Amick a replica of Corentin’s communicator from his pocket. “They aren’t useless. We’re an unfathomable distance from our realm, and yours doesn’t have the conducts or magic flowing through the earth to generate the power needed to make them work.”
“Interesting,” Amick hums as he observes the communicator from all angles. “At first glance, I’d never assume this came from a realm such as yours where power supposedly flourishes. This seems to be a mortal necessity.”
“It is. The concept of them derived from the nonmagical realm.”
Riven gasps, jumping in front of Caspian. “You know the mortals? How are they? Fascinating beings, aren’t they?”
“Fascinating? No. Absolutely worthless beings and a waste of universal space.”
“Caspian,” Tillman and Corentin chide.
“What?” He shrugs. “If he’d asked me the same question a hundred years ago, my answer would’ve been different.”
Creed huffs. “They have good food.”
“Had,” Caspian counters. “They don’t even grow or cook their own sustenance anymore.”
Well, that’s frightening and disappointing.
“Can I see?” Riven asks, grabbing the communicator from Amick as he attempts to pass it to Caspian.
Water wraps around Riven’s wrist, holding his hand up, and his jaw drops open.
“Oh, that feels weird as fuck and cold. Damn, you can’t heat that up?”
Holy shit…
It was mind-boggling when Willow pulled all the water from our clothes, but I had no clue that not only can he manipulate the water, but he can make the shit appear out of thin air.
“We all can control an element,” Tillman says as his eyes bounce between the two of them. “Cas.”
“Where’d you get these tattoos?” Caspian asks Riven rather than paying attention to the warning in Tillman’s tone.
“I like to doodle on myself in my spare time.”
“Cut the shit. Whoever did this to you had no fucking right to do that.”
The smirk fades from Riven’s face as his arm is lowered and the water slinks into the ground at his feet.
“Yeah, well, he doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Do you want me to get rid of them?”
“I can kill on my own, but thanks for the offer.”
Caspian scoffs. “Not the being who did it. The tattoos. Do you want me to remove them?”
Riven’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. As does mine. The ticking on my chest speeds up, racing to sync with the beat of my heart.
“How?” Riven asks.
I hold in my shuddering breath as shadows bleed from Caspian’s fingers and wrap around Riven’s wrists. He stares at them, unmoving.
“All I need is the word and they’ll be gone.”
The air in my lungs hardens as I watch the war race across Riven’s face. My eyes cut to the side as Thayla’s small laugh echoes back to us. Neither she nor Willow has noticed that the eight of us have stopped walking.
Riven peers over his shoulder toward her as well. He shakes his head as he glances back down at his shadow-covered wrists.
“No.” He swallows, then clears his voice. “They’re my reminders, so I’ll keep them. I’ve got some unfortunate news for you, though.”
“What’s that? Caspian asks.
“I may or may not have killed your great-great-great-great-great-great-granddaddy. My bad.”
The tension in the air snaps as Draken, Tillman, Corentin, and I snort. Creed huffs as Amick examines everyone’s reaction. A pleased smirk crosses Caspian’s lips as he withdraws his power from around Riven.
“He obviously deserved it.”