THE SKY IS CRYING #2
Eathril followed, finding a new tree to take refuge in, directly across from where I sat.
“I shall continue, then. I was created at the whim of Skadi’s selfish ambitions.
I did as she asked, but as her greed grew, so too did her appetite for killing.
She created me from her own blood and shadows, knowing full well what she was doing.
I was the only living being in relation to her that was not a god, so naturally, it was to be my hand that took her father’s life.
I didn’t ascend to take his place because she had already bound his power to his amulet with no way to undo it.
“I did not want to kill him. In fact, for weeks beforehand, I had been questioning everything. I saw what Skadi had turned into, and I wanted no part of it. I tried to flee, but I had nowhere to go. There was not a place on Skotos where she wouldn’t eventually find me.
When I took Erebus’s life, I felt a part of my soul die with him.
That was when I knew I could not stay. I would rather die than to further spill the blood of those who did not deserve it. So I rebelled.
“On the day Torin was to open her portal to another world, I lowered the gates to Erebus’s castle and let the Dionachs in. I led them right to the amulet, watched them take it, then fled with them.”
“And you’ve been here ever since,” I concluded.
“I have. When we landed here, I vanished, out of fear that one of the wraiths or witches might notice my presence, and also because I carried something with me that would have been more than enough to prompt suspicion.”
“Do I even want to know what that was?”
He chuckled with amusement. “Coincidently enough, it is the very weapon you have strapped to your side.”
My gaze slid to Death’s Whisper.
“Surely you have wondered at the origin of such a weapon.”
I reached for the hilt and pulled it free from its sheath. Rain plinked against the black blade as I held it out before me, the droplets looking like ink sliding down to the pointed crossguard.
The sword’s discovery and its mysterious appearance had triggered many theories, none of which had ever been confirmed. That was why I had brought it with me, figuring Eathril might know something about its origin.
“It is unlike any other weapon of this world. That blade was hewn from the darkest depths of Skotos’s mountains, and quenched in the waters of its most perilous lake. I took it from Skadi’s throne room the same day the Dionachs took the amulet. It was Erebus’s sword.”
Erebus’s sword.
The obsidian blade seemed to feel immensely heavier the moment Eathril told me whose it had been. I turned it over with both hands, admiring its make, just as I always did. Except now, I felt even more of a connection to it than I had before.
“Taking it from Skadi was the only thing I could think to do before I left Skotos behind. I know it does not change what I did, but the thought of leaving it in the goddess’s hands did not sit right with me.
I brought it to the furthest cave I could find here in Calledan, some place that it would not be easily found, and laid it deep within—a tomb, if you will.
I returned there every so often, to check on it, but when Aleris befriended me, and gave me my task and a place at his court, I stopped venturing to that cave.
“I told him about the sword, but he never wished to see it. Said it was best left alone, as was my past.” Eathril’s voice shifted, as if he had turned to gaze off into the forest, recalling a memory.
“He took my secrets to his grave, and I am forever grateful. He was a good friend. He spun my story to his council. Told them that I was an entity born of an enchantment—a product of Old Magic that would be of great benefit to this territory. No one thought to question it further. I have upheld my task as Calledan’s interrogator ever since. ”
Still focused on the sword that I held, I asked, “So why do you stay in Calledan? You swore no oath, am I correct? Why not wander and do as you please?”
“With all due respect, High Lord, you have never been forced to flee your home and abandon everything you know. I may have escaped Skotos and made it here alive, but my entire existence had been called into question, and I had nothing but my guilt. I needed a purpose, and Aleris gave me just that. In the many years that I have served here, I have seen more than you could imagine. I have learned of things before they came to pass, and most importantly, I have found a way to redeem myself, at least in my own eyes. By performing the task that was bestowed upon me, I have saved lives, prevented wars, and given myself something I didn’t think I would be able to . . .”
“What’s that?”
“Grace.”
I looked up, wishing I could see him, or at least pinpoint his general location. “I think you are worthy of grace and respect, Eathril.”
“You are not mad that I’ve known all of this and never told you?”
“It was not your place to. And the timing wouldn’t have been right. Not until now.”
He remained quiet, but I knew he was content.
“The wraith, Sahren . . . does she know your entire story?”
“Not the part where I killed the god-king.”
I nodded, processing. “Do you know of her sacred pool?”
“I do. I happened to come across Sahren again many years after Aleris made me a part of this territory’s court.
I was scouring the lands, seeking the whereabouts of a few missing prisoners, when I discovered the cave system she had been dwelling in.
As it turned out, she had seen me when we came to this world with Torin, but I had vanished right after, and she never mentioned it to anyone else.
“When I found her, she was the only remaining wraith out of all that had come here. I thought all the wraiths had long-since died without having access to their source of energy and life, but she had discovered the spring’s water, and used it to sustain herself.
She would offer me sips of it, but I never needed it to survive.
My form does not manifest here. In this world, I am nothing but the breath of a shadow—everywhere and nowhere. ”
“Would you take on a form if you were back on Skotos?”
“Yes . . .”
I let out an amused laugh, trying to picture what he might look like if given a physical form. “Indulge me.”
“My Lord?”
“In your physical form, what do you look like? Do you resemble a fae? A human? Or do you take on some other strange, monstrous form?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he said, smiling through his words.
I smirked back and shook my head. “Guess it’s better left to the imagination.”
His deep, throaty laugh echoed through the trees.
Silence crept back in, reminding me of the topic at hand. The weapon that now sat across my lap seemed to look up at me with an unrelenting stare. “It is said that Gavrin was the one who found this weapon and gave it to his son Evander. Is that true?”
“Yes. Gavrin was a particularly curious Lord, always exploring, always monitoring his land for threats. That was one of the reasons Karios chose him and this court to protect the talisman of Lyceius. He was level-headed and righteous, with a warrior’s spirit and a kind heart.
His son was much the same, except for the dark power that he was born with. ”
“Ah yes, the dark power. It’s about time we get to that.
” I lifted Erebus’s sword—my sword—and stared at my reflection in the blackened blade.
Then I took the weapon and stabbed its tip into the wet earth.
It wobbled beside me as I sank back against the tree and folded my arms over my chest. “The wraith told me she suspected my power came from Erebus, but she doesn’t know how that could be possible. ”
“Mmm.” Eathril’s voice shifted, as if he, too, had to reposition himself. As if repositioning helped us think better. “That is something that has bothered me greatly ever since Evander’s birth.”
“So you know nothing of how the power came to be in him?”
“I’m afraid it is the one thing I do not have an answer for.”
Well, fuck.
“However, I can offer you a theory.”
I glanced up into the trees again. “I like theories.”
“My theory is that after Torin brought Erebus’s amulet here, she used it.”
“Used it for what?”
“That is what we do not know. Perhaps it was an accident. Perhaps she tried to access her father’s power for her own reasons. Who knows the minds of the gods.”
I turned his words over, and over again, sifting through all the possibilities.
Every “why” or “how” that I tried to formulate in my head made no sense.
There was no justification for Torin using the amulet, especially since she seemed completely shocked and deeply apprehensive when she came face to face with me on Neveshir and sensed what was in my veins.
No, I did not think she would have been the one to use it.
But if not her, then who?
I smeared a raindrop between my thumb and forefinger. “What does the amulet look like?”
“It is a small, round stone, made of obsidian. Erebus kept it on a chain which he wore around his neck.”
I scoffed. “Fitting.”
“Fitting for you,” Eathril said with a certain degree of amusement. “You do favor the color.”
A mirthless laugh escaped me. The coincidence was too uncanny for my liking.
Death’s Whisper continued staring at me, staked into the mud at my side. I narrowed my eyes on it. “There is something else you should know.” I could feel Eathril’s presence shift at the tone of my voice. He wasn’t going to like what I had to say next, given who he truly was.
“Yes?”
“Skadi is here.”
The area around me grew so still, that for a moment, I thought Eathril might have fled. Then, “The disturbance at the gate . . . that was her?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Hmm . . .” His pondering hum made it seem like he was searching for ways to fix the issue. Like there was a way to send her back, though I knew there absolutely was not. That would be too easy.