33. Yugawaralite
The parting caves are a sacred place in Enduvida. They create a direct channel between our city and the open ocean. After the Great War five decades ago, we started coming here to send the Enduares to be home with their family members.
There is a set of stone doors left wide open, letting out the sound of a massive waterfall crashing down on stone, drenching the air in a humid mist. This mist is neither dark nor cold like the vaimpír’s mist, but it still reminds me of death. Carvings from our ancestors line the walls, illuminated by both spell lights and glowing crystals along the wall.
After an endless day of planning this trip, I could deduce that they would lead us to the deeper ocean, despite no living Enduar knowing their exact course into open water.
While the unknown is uncomfortable, I’m confident everything will work out. It is fortunate that we have a lower entry point to the sea than the beaches outside the mountain—it will save us time.
“Iravida was destroyed, sunken, and moved in the eruption. It used to be much further out, but the volcano made the plates shift when it destroyed our old home,” Liana explains to Thorne as Flova makes final adjustments to his suit’s fit. The wise woman then bites the crystal piercing in her lip and smooths her hands over the clear material, tuning the harmony of the suit.
Unlike our fun in the pools, we are all given leather clothing to put under our protective gear. The ocean can be dangerously cold and we need to have a layer of insulation.
Vann is already completely suited up and ready to leave. Estela stands at my side, quiet, but just as fascinated as I am. She continues to talk to Flova, and I walk to the tall companion in the corner.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
Vann nods. “It has to be today?”
The question surprises me; Vann isn’t typically one to be so upfront about his reservations or fears. I nod firmly. His eyes travel back to the crashing waters.
The roar fills my ears with such force that it resembles the rhythmic pulse and beat of war drums.
“The test yesterday was perfectly fine. You came back in perfect health. We will be fine—I trust Flova.”
“I do too, but I have never spent much time in the water. They told us that we would only have four days under the ocean, but we don’t know if that will truly be enough.”
“I’ve spent time calculating—” I start.
“Damn your calculations. Perhaps you shouldn’t even go with us. Sending the king and queen into some dark, cavernous hole? Where is the sense in this?”
I frown, remembering what he said to me about going on all these dangerous missions. “There was time to bring up these concerns.”
He shakes his head, bitter. “No, there wasn’t. We didn’t discuss bringing Estela. You told me just yesterday. Dissuading anyone of this plan was impossible, which is why I volunteered. Someone needs to protect you from yourself, and I am officially extending such a vow to your mate.”
My heart contracts. “And I appreciate it.”
He shakes me off. “Show me by finding this artifact.”
He walks back, away from the channel that spits out into the ocean and follows me to my mate. Liana helps Estela to open and seal each part of the suit, perfectly encapsulating every part of her.
The helmet was designed so that the magic would let her breathe underwater for an extended time. It’s shaped like a bell, but the crystal itself slightly exaggerates her features.
I smile at the sweetness of her. Her eyes snap onto me, furious—which only makes me smile wider. As if her beauty could be diminished by a bit of silliness.
Besides, I saw her in the outfit yesterday, free of clothes. I have nothing but fondness for the creation.
“Put your suit on,” she chides. The rose quartz placed around the helmet amplifies the sound of her voice, filling the entire cavern.
It takes a few mere moments to reach past her, pick up the hefty thing, and start to assemble it on my person. Thorne slings the pack over his shoulder, uncharacteristically quiet.
“Will anyone come to see us off?”
Vann grunts. “No.”
“No? Why not? You people celebrate everything, from a babe eating its first solid food to miners bringing back a new crystal,” he rants.
I shrug. “They will celebrate our return. If we are successful, it won’t be long before we march on Rholker. Removing him from the throne is still our number one concern, after returning what my father stole. I told them it was better to stay underground, either training or preparing supplies.”
He lets out a long breath but says nothing more.
“Remember, you can only open the bell to eat and drink for a handful of moments. The magic isn’t strong enough without a seal from the crystals, and you could lose air,” Flova says gruffly.
Vann and I pick up another pack. The only person who will carry nothing is my mate—as is only right. She should be able to focus solely on following her visions to the artifact’s location.
We walk through the Cave of Sorrows, and it brings back memories of every member of my court who has passed on to the next life. I walk, head high, full of purpose.
It isn’t until we reach the crashing waterfall that will lead us down that I pause.
Liana nods to us, raising her hand high and speaking the oldest tongue. The Fuegorras on our chest light up, turning the clear crystal red, save Thorne. He curses again and says, “I’ll go first.”
Then he reaches the spot and lets himself go. His form disappears in a few seconds, and Vann follows. Holding the hand of my mate, I guide her forward and let her go next. As I step into the water, it eagerly embraces me, pulling me under with a powerful surge that propels me into a collision with the rocky edge. Swirls of bubbles, shimmering lights, and intricate cracks whiz by in a mesmerizing dance too swift for my eyes to capture fully. The underwater world reveals itself not as a realm of darkness but as one filled with a profound sense of weightlessness and an unseen presence that nudges my consciousness.
The intense pressure suddenly dissipates as I am forcefully expelled into the vast expanse of open water. A soft radiance emanates from the crystal suit adorning my body, casting a gentle glow around me. In this luminous space, I realize that I am not alone in emitting light. A symphony of bioluminescent creatures flickers and dances around me in a breathtaking display of underwater magic.
“Estela,” I call to the smallest glowing suit, one that I swear is a little brighter than all the rest. The sound shoots through the water, and she swims over to me, close enough that I can watch her take in the beauty around us.
Beneath us, the ocean floor is strewn with fragments of ancient stone abodes, scattered like forgotten dreams on the seabed. I had anticipated that the relentless currents would have shifted Iravida’s resting place, a deduction that now unfolds before my eyes in silent confirmation. The underwater world is a mesmerizing display of vibrant life—iridescent fish darting through swaying seaweed forests, delicate algae painting the rocks in hues unseen by daylight, and ethereal anemones dancing to an unseen melody. The sheer brilliance of this hidden realm overwhelms my senses, each detail more enchanting than I could have ever imagined.
Estela”s gaze mirrors my own astonishment as she hungrily absorbs every facet of this submerged landscape. I can”t help but ponder what this underwater paradise might have looked like in its prime, devoid of the haunting remnants of the Enduares’ shattered dwellings that once echoed with laughter and love.
It’s one thing to calculate, and another to see it with my own eyes.
“It is… beautiful,” she breathes, her voice distorted with the ocean. The quartz not only inhances the volume, but it seemingly absorbs each word. They buzz along with the uncomfortable high-pitched noise of the suit. “Just as I saw in my vision.”
I bite my tongue as a long ago memory haunting me for the last month flickers.
The skin of my hands tears on the stone, and I pant as I look at Iravida. It’s a sea of red and orange, and the mountain we had existed peacefully next to has rivulets of lava flowing down at an eerily fast pace. The ash-filled air whips around me while sparks of lightning glimmer over the mouth of the mount.
I feel fear, pain, and grief. So much loss. So much heat.
Hands extended, I rush forward, ready to push.
I blink away the memories again, sweating inside the crystal. It’s been so long since I thought of that moment… it feels like it’s been locked away.
This underwater city is a mass grave.
But ghosts need not haunt Estela, too. I take her hand and pull her forward.
“What are we looking for?” Thorne says.
“The royal palace.” My father must’ve kept the stone somewhere near his chambers. I never went into one of his vaults; he was the only one allowed in.
“And is that ungodly large building with glowing red fire the palace?” Thorne continues, breath lightly fogging his helmet.
I follow his direction, and see the pulsing red. I blink.
That’s not a palace.
“I saw that, too. Isn’t that an Ardorflame?” Estela asks.
“It looks like it, my lady,” Vann says, his arms slicing the water with precision as he powered through each stroke. The red magic emits contorted streaks that don’t match the water.
The cold seeps into my suit, and I shiver. I can only imagine what my little wife must feel. Tugging her hand, we push on, slicing through the water as fast as it will allow us. As soon as we draw close, something darts in front of us, causing thick bubbles to form and push us out of the way. The force of the movement takes Estela away from me.
“Estela!” I call. Immediately, I dive toward her as she propels away. Her scream breaks through the water as she grasps at her neck, kicking out her legs. Before I have a chance to reach her, she kicks backward, and whatever is holding her captive quickly releases her.
I swim past her, prepared to slice whatever creature dares to come near my queen, only to stop in my tracks as I see a blue tail flick to the side, propelling them further.
A steely black crystal suit comes clearer into view. Shock reverberates through my soul. I push toward Estela, now having a clearer view of the body. Two arms, two legs, and old Enduar armor.
“Stop!” I call out.
In response, a sea-worn sword riddled with holes slices through the water.I recognize the style of the blade and the tarnished golden hilt. This is one of my people.
“We are Enduares!” I call out in my language, careful to enunciate each word with painstaking clarity.
The sword”s sharp edge freezes mid-swing, a glint of bioluminescent light bouncing off its jagged, holey surface as the Enduar approaches. His towering figure looms closer. The intricate details of his armor catch the eye, each piece crafted with a level of sophistication surpassing our own suits.
The crystal is more clouded than ours, just barely hinting at his ragged, muscled physique and deteriorating clothes.My mind races as I gaze out at a lost member of my people. Is he alone? How has he survived down here this long?
“You are Enduar?” he repeats, his helmeted head turning toward Estela and then returning to me. “You speak my tongue, yet I do not recognize this figure.”
He releases Estela, and I grab her crystal suit, pulling her closer. “I am King Ma’Teo, son of Teo’Likh and your former crown prince.”
The Enduar continues to point his sword toward me but doesn’t move much further than that.I hold out my hands, but Vann and Thorne flank my sides, weapons drawn.
“You are a troll?” Vann calls out.
The Enduar nods his helmet, tail moving behind him to help him tread in one place.
“Where do you come from?” the Enduar calls.
As I look at him, I feel the tension fill the water.
“We come from Enduvida in search of the palace ruins,” I respond. “Are their others with you?”
The man ignores me.
“You travel with many different… creatures,” he says, pointing the tip of his blade at Thorne and Estela.
The attitude is old—as old as the civilization we once lived in. The mistrust of others is familiar, like my father’s backhand.
“You even bring an enemy into our midst,” he says.
“That elf is no enemy,” I say, though I am not sure I fully believe it. It would take too much to explain, so I try a new question. “Do you live down here?”
The Enduar pulls back gracefully in the water as a large fish with a body as wide as a bear comes before him. It glows insistently in the inky water with brilliant blue and green dots of light that highlight the pattern of its body and fins.
“Come,” the Enduar commands.
I can hardly believe what I see, but the fish carries him quickly. I grab onto a fin and hold Estela in my arm.
As we cut through the water, my mind races with more questions than there will be time to answer.
He brings us to the red light with surprising speed, and then he dips toward what I now recognize as a large bubble.
He stops the enormous creature and then leads us forward. We head to the floor, and then he pulls us in.
Air and gravity resume as water slides off our frosted suits. I peel back the helmet, walking forward with purpose, only to see not one, not two—but dozens of Enduares around us. All men. They look at us with hateful glares, and I keep my mate tucked close to my shoulder when their cruel silver eyes trail to her.
What the hell is happening?Estela asks in her mind. How did all these men get here?
I don’t know, I say, following behind the warrior. The man before us is no hunter. His eyes speak of war—of domination and bloodthirst.
Of shameless conquest.
It is like stepping into the past and twisting it to the tune of death.
He doesn’t turn to look at us as he guides me past all the sets of judgmental eyes. We walk in silence until we approach the Ardorflame. It is smaller than the temple in Enduvida, but it pulses with the same gods-gifted magic.
Standing before the rich, pulsing light, is another Enduar with a missing ear. His hair is cut short, like Thorne’s, and his shoulders are broader than any Enduar I’ve ever seen. The rugged cuts of him remind me of my father’s legacy as he turns to glare up.
I freeze in place when his eyes meet mine. One of his eyeballs is replaced with a crystal orb that studies us with the same intensity as his good eye.
I know him.
Our guide salutes his leader who doesn’t acknowledge him in return.
“Tir’Suel,” the Enduar who brought us calls out. “I have found some of our kind in the open waters. They request an audience.”
The leader’s name brings forth dozens of memories from my old life.
This is the head of one of my father’s private battalions. There were ten in total, each containing a thousand highly trained soldiers. Most were men, but women fought for him as well. As I glance around the room, I see no sign of female Enduares.
“Fuck me. Prince Ma’Teo,” Tir’Suel sneers in our native tongue.
I can practically hear Vann’s teeth grinding, and I wonder if he has made the same connection I have.
“Tir’Suel. Leader of the ninth royal battalion,” I say, refusing to lower my chin in his presence.
“I thought you were dead,” he says flatly, seconds before his eyes drop to my side. Tir’Suel’s gaze lingers on Estela, his eyes narrowing as he takes in her radiant form encased in the shimmering crystal suit. A flicker of anger passes through his steely facade, quickly masked by a veil of indifference.
It was a mistake to bring her. I place my hand on my hip, where the sword is attached with a special sheath.
“I didn’t know that anyone else was spared after the eruption. I have been living in what’s left of Enduvida with the other survivors,” I say, my voice tinged with trepidation and lingering sorrow. “I would’ve come sooner if I had known that it was even possible to survive this long down here.”
Tir’Suel’s sharp features are etched in a permanent scowl, his eyes betraying a deep-rooted bitterness.
“So you live in the summer city?” he asks, his tone dripping with disdain that stirs a pang of defensiveness within me.
“Yes. It was the only place we had left,” I respond, frustrated by his callous judgment.
His lip curls contemptuously, and his words cut like knives, “Cowards. All of you. You should be dead on the ocean floor, like those that surround us now.”
“Enough! I do not wish to fight.” I take a deep breath to steady myself and try again, determination fueling my words. “We seek passage to the royal palace,” I declare firmly, my voice echoing with unwavering resolve through the damp bubble that encases us.
“The palace is no longer a sanctuary for you,” Tir’Suel proclaims with venom dripping from each syllable, sending shivers down my spine and igniting a spark of defiance within me.
Vann steps closer toward me, his hand instinctively tightening around his weapon as tension crackles in the air between us. Tir’Suel has the audacity to laugh—a chilling sound that echoes through the desolate ruins around us, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within me.
“What do you intend to do with that? You both are no better than pups sucking on your mother’s teat. Do you think, prince, that I don’t see the marking on your neck? I see the female cowering at your shoulder. You have mated outside of your people, refused to die with honor, and now, after all this time, you come here. Why, sniveling little rat?” He spews his words like poison.
My blood begins to pump hotter and heavier. “I will not be spoken to this way.”
“No? Well, where have you been for the last five decades while we rotted away down here—protecting your legacy and watching over our people’s graves?” he bites back.
I stand up. “I didn’t ask you to do this. In fact, I’ve come?—”
“You wouldn’t have made such a great sacrifice! Look at you, you are weak, crawling around in a castle gifted to you while we die and wither down here.”
His words reverberate through my mind like a haunting melody, reminiscent of my father”s stern voice that has lingered with me for an eternity—a voice I have struggled to silence. The sacrifices I”ve made, trading my time, health, and even the very vessel of my being for the Enduares, now weigh heavy on me.
“What if I agreed to take you to the surface?” I try one last time.
He shakes his head. “I would rather die down here with my people than go to that disgusting city.”
Help me undo the straps,I say through the bond to Estela. It takes mere moments for us to peel off the crystal.
”You romanticize death as if it”s the only noble path. But you”re oblivious to the anguish of enduring life,” I call out to him, grasping my blade tightly, its familiar weight a comfort from days long past when I trained alongside the soldiers in my father”s regiment. The air crackles with tension as I raise the sword, a silent challenge hanging between us. Engaging in combat, a brutal dance where respect is earned through bloodshed—this is the only language Tir’Suel understands.
“If you insist on speaking in the language of violence, then draw your weapon,” I say, my voice low and threatening.
He looks at me and laughs. “I will look forward to seeing you fall on your ass.”
“I will not fall. But you might,” I say.
Teo, Estela protests. Be careful.
I must do this.
That response is met with silence, though her fear is potent. It’s bitter on my tongue.
The water surges relentlessly against the shimmering protective shield enveloping the compound. Through the translucent barrier, colorful fish dart past. The echoes of imaginary screams reverberate in my mind, refusing to fade as I locked eyes with Tir’Suel, his presence, unfortunately, real.
In one swift motion, Tir’Suel dons a ragged tunic over his bare chest and seizes the weapon lying at his feet. His gaze hardens as he swiftly aims it towards me, his stance poised and ready for combat. With legs planted firmly apart and arms extended in a commanding gesture, he braces himself for the impending confrontation. Reacting instinctively, I shove Estela behind me, stealing a glimpse of Thorne ushering her to safety amidst the escalating tension.
I begrudgingly make a note to thank the half-elf.
“You have made a mistake coming here,” he threatens before lunging at me. I narrowly jump out of the way. “You will do your duty to your people and die a noble death at my hand.”
His blade slices towards me again, but this time, I parry. The force of the impact throws his weapon back. He growls and readjusts his position.
“You. Will. Die.” He swings around, dealing me three sweeping blows with staggering precision. I am forced back across the slick ground, and my feet slide. “When you see your father in the afterlife, tell him of the warrior who killed you. That it was I, Tir’Suel, captain of his one thousand mightiest soldiers who avenged him by massacring his frail, sniveling son.”
I block another of his blows, and the smell of fish and deep salt water fills my nose, mixing with the spark of metal. “Even if you were to kill me, I doubt I will ever see him again—tyrants are not beloved by our gods.”
He scoffs, and I use the opportunity to thrust at his unguarded stomach, using the weight of my tail and arms to give power to my swiping blow.
It clips into his skin, but he jumps back before I can cut deep. A small red stain spreads on the salt-stained fabric.
“Perhaps not,” he grits out as the blade comes down against me again and again. “But they will condemn someone for diluting their royal blood.”
He launches at me again, a flurry of calculated strikes aiming to break my defenses. Despite my efforts to shield myself, one blow breaches my guard, slicing into my shoulder with a sickening sound.
”Shit,” I curse, summoning a surge of determination to push him back. ”You are blinded by your narrow beliefs if you think the gods concern themselves with such trivial matters. Your ignorance will be your downfall.”
Echoes of my father”s disapproving voice taunt me, questioning my resolve and foresight. Defiantly, I rebuke his words, asserting my commitment to safeguarding my family and securing a future for my people rather than heedlessly endangering them.
With renewed vigor, each strike I deliver carries a weighty purpose.
”Seems like you retained some lessons from the academy,” he remarks between gasps for breath as I deflect his blade with precision. Seizing an opening, I swiftly pivot and swipe my tail toward his feet, disrupting his balance.
As he stumbles and hits the ground, wasting no time, I drive the sword into his heart.
“Fuck…” A wet gurgle punctuates his final moments.
Exhaling heavily, I glance back at Thorne and Estela. Her expression betrays shock as she gazes upon the lifeless figure before her. My Fuegorra has already begun healing the wound, but I shift my shoulders as the prickling, hot discomfort sears the open cut.
”What was he saying?” she inquires, despite her familiarity with Enduar language nuances. The ancient dialect may not pose significant barriers, yet I choose not to repeat his derogatory remarks about her heritage.
”It is of no consequence; he lies silenced now.” Lifting my sword overhead, I pivot around the watching Enduares who observe me intently like vigilant hawks. As I look back at the men waiting for me to address the group, I try to memorize each face.
There are so many of them. I feel a thick emotion coil in my chest wrapping itself up like a rope. Two hundred and seventy-nine Enduares exist in Enduvida. There are nearly a hundred standing before me with a few more trickling in.
More of my people live.A peculiar kind of hope is starting to bubble up.
Many more, mi vida?1. Though, they don’t look as friendly as those who live with us now, Estela whispers.
The Enduar who brought us here from the ocean emerges from the sidelines, his presence commanding attention.
”Tir’Suel lies dead by your hand,” he declares in a voice that resonates with authority, casting a regretful gaze at the crimson pool seeping from the fallen general.
Without hesitation, I raise my sword defiantly. ”So he is! He chose death over freedom from this underwater prison.”
I look around at the Enduares who have started to congregate. Without their crystal suits, all that is left is haggard clothing.
“Will any of you challenge me for the ability to lead you?” Anticipating a clash of steel and wills, I brace myself for opposition, but to my surprise, no one steps forward. Instead, the leader of our escort drops to one knee before me, offering up his sword in a symbolic gesture of allegiance.
“You plan to take us to the surface?” one says.
Something stirs in my gut as I think of Tir’Suel’s hateful words. Any of these men could believe just as he did, and there isn’t much time to craft an answer. “Tell me, if returning to the surface is what you long for, why have you not left yet?”
“What the fuck is going on?” a voice growls. A tall Enduar emerges from one of the huts, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane. He is the same age as me, but his scarred face tells tales of battle, and his limp speaks volumes of sacrifices made in service to his cause.
He isn’t familiar to me, but the power pulsing in his exposed Fuegorra tells me all I need to know. Not quite what a wise woman is, but a… stone bender of significant power. Moreso even than Ra’Salore. I watch the stones shift beneath him to make his way more manageable.
As soon as he looks at me, he stills. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Gods, you look so much like him.”
“My name is Ma’Teo, King of the Trolls. I have just bested your leader in a fight to the death, and now I would claim control of this battalion.”
The man stands there, eyes flicking between our motley group and the bloody body on the ground.
My whole body tenses when he doesn’t respond. I feel Estela return my side. “I have just asked your people why you don’t return to the surface.”
He grimaces and jerks his head to Tir’Suel’s lifeless form. “We all swore a blood oath to Teo’Likh that we would guard his secrets to the death. Some of us have tried to leave.” He waves a scarred hand. “If Suel caught someone trying to leave, he’d feed them to the sharks. If they tried to leave by themselves... Well, long story short—they’re all dead.”
He takes two more steps forward. “How did you get here?”
I swallow. “We live in old Enduvida. It is not far from here—there is a channel in the ground that put us directly over the ruins.”
The crippled Enduar’s mouth falls open. “That close?”
I nod. “What is your name, Soldier?”
He chews on his cheek. “I am called Si’Kirin, the animator of stone.”
The men around the enclosure are quiet, hanging on every word.
“Si’Kirin, would you accept my leadership?” I press.
“You intend to relieve us of our blood oath to your father and let us return to the surface?”
“I do,” I start. “But it comes at a price.”
Angry words break out all around us.
“What kind of price?” the Enduar who brought us in out of the water demands.
“Same question as Ner’Feon,” Si’Kirin calls.
Ner’Feon steps forward.
I draw in a deep breath. “There are less than three hundred Enduares left. We are at the beginning of a new war. We have come to retrieve an artifact my father stole from the elves to secure their allyship. If we were to bring you to the surface, you would be expected to fight.”
The men look around, murmuring. Another stands next to Si’Kirin and Ner’Feon.
“My name is Ka’Prinn. As you may have guessed, no women live with us. Tell me of your strange consort.”
I grit my teeth, and a surge of protectiveness bubbles inside me. “This woman is my wife and your queen—she is not strange.”
“How did you come to mate with a human?” someone calls.
“We are dying out.”
“Would we be able to mate with humans as well?” Ka’Prinn asks.
“It is no different than before. Yes, but there must be a mating song.”
Ner’Feon strides forward, stopping a few paces before Estela and me. Vann also draws near, the blade glinting in hand, but the Enduar pays him no heed.
I stare at the Ner’Feon with an icy look, waiting for him to speak.
“You have bested our leader,” he says. “You are the rightful heir to the throne, and you have offered us a way out if we help you retrieve some treasure from the ruins and fight in a battle we know nothing about.”
“That is correct,” I say with a nod.
“It is a hefty fee.”
“You don’t seem to have much choice,” Vann chimes in.
Ner’Feon doesn’t even bother to look at him. “Will you swear a new blood oath to us, promising all that?”
I search his deep blue eyes and take a moment to ponder his question. The gravity of the situation weighs heavily on my shoulders.
I think it is a good choice, mi amor.?2
What if they hurt the humans?
A phantom hand brushes over my mind. We can keep them separate for a time—you yourself have asked them to fight for us. You aren’t the kind of man to leave your people down here to rot.
She’s right, for better or worse. It isn’t like they would immediately integrate into our people. They would need to survive yet another battle to kill the giant king.
With the decision made, another spark of warmth lights up in my chest. Our city will grow yet again. A part of me hopes it will continue to multiply until we fill the city once meant for a hundred thousand people.
“I will swear the oath,” I say at last.
Ner”Feon looks pleased and bends his knee, placing his hand over his heart in sign of fealty. ”Then I accept you as our king.”
All the others follow suit, some with more reservation than others. Si’Kirin eases himself down with the power of his stone bending and gives me an approving nod.
Vann appears at my side, pressing a knife into my hand. I look up at him, and he gives me a nod.
“I support your choice,” he murmurs as I hold the blade in my handle. He knows better than most the value of good soldiers.
I drag the sharp edge over my hand with every eye on me. I ignore the sting and let the blood pool before the Fuegorra can heal the wound. Then I hold my hand out, drawing on my powers.
The ground rumbles, and a column of stone appears before me. I let the drops of blood spill atop it.
“With Grutabela and Endu as my witnesses, I swear that I will bring you all out of the water and return you to our people”s caves. In return, you will all be loyal to me and your queen. You will take us to find the artifact and fight alongside my army.”
Ner’Feon watches the blood seal our contract with a strange ferocity, then hits his chest once and starts to chant in the old language. The Fuegorra on their chests light up as the others join in, hitting their chests and bowing their heads in time with the beat.
The sound grows louder and louder. Estela slips her hand into mine, gazing upon the men as they swear their fealty. When the volume reaches its highest point, the chanting cuts off.
An eerie silence follows.
I feel a mix of relief and anticipation. The Fuegorras glow brighter in the dim light, illuminating the faces of my newfound allies.
“Our time draws short. Tell me, does anyone know of the Elvish Artifact?” I call out.
The ground shifts, and Si’Kirin stands. He flashes me a smile. “Do you mean the Cumhacht na Cruinne?”
Thorne, who has been a silent onlooker, steps forward. “Yes. That is what we seek.”
He smirks. “It was my job to tend to the artifact from time to time. I haven’t checked on it in months. Not since this.” He gestures to his twisted leg.
“Were you attacked?” I ask.
“As I am sure you”ve seen, there are a great many creatures in the sea. Not all love us trolls.”
“But, how far away is this artifact?” Vann interjects, concern etching his usually stoic features.
He purses his lips. “Come, My King, it is nearly what you might consider nighttime. I am sure you are all tired. Rest—eat—while I explain.”
We are guided back to a set of tables, where filets of fish and small squids are roasting over a bubbling pocket of lava near the temple. It is nothing short of miraculous to see something so hot exist in a place deep into the world’s hidden places.
“Sit,” the man says as he hobbles over to tend to the food. I try not to look back at the group of men who have followed us. Among them is Ka’Prinn, who watches Estela with eyeballs so wide that they look as though they might fall right out of his face.
I growl at him when he gets close to her. “Touch her, and I’ll slice your tail right off,” I threaten in Enduar. “Get out of here.”
He turns back to me, bows, and then leaves.
“Why do you want the artifact?” Si’Kirin asks.
“I will give it back to the elves,” I say without hesitation.
The man purses his lips, considering my words. “Are you sure that is a good idea?”
“Perhaps it wasn’t so wise to steal it from its owners in the first place,” Thorne hisses, no longer silent.
Si’Kirin fixes him with a hard stare penetrative enough to cut through crystal. “It wasn’t stolen entirely—it was given. And your king hungered for power just as much as Teo’Lihk. You would be a fool to think otherwise.”
Thorne doesn’t respond, which I find odd, considering he has consistently corrected others about his affiliation to the elven throne. The degrees of separation between the sisterhood and the royal court aren’t wide, but they are significant—to him, at least.
“Something tells me it was destroyed in that damned volcano. Is that why you feed us stinking fish and pacify us with your old words?” Thorne spits.
Si’Kirin tilts his head to the side. “The artifact wasn’t destroyed in the eruption, thank the gods, but it did… sink. It is beyond the city, in the depths of the cavern. It used to take me nearly a day to check on its evergreen glow. It has been a few years since I have gone to look at it.”
Thorne looks like he’d slice the man’s throat open. “Then how do you know it is still there?”
He looks unamused. “This ocean is large and hard to navigate. There is more water than land in this world. If someone had come to claim it, I would know. It has a way of making its presence known. ”
Thorne insists. “When you say you tended to it, that means… what?”
“After the eruption, the underground vault where it was stored was cracked. We found it had sunken deep into a crevasse. It was nearly impossible to get close to it, but, like I said, you can feel it. You will know for yourself when you go for it,” Si’Kirin says.
Estela lets out a scared little yelp from my side, and I turn to find one of the Enduares dropping her braid.
The braid that I wove this morning.
I see red, grabbing another Enduar’s hand and slamming it into one of the stones above his head. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”
His eyes are wide, more shocked than in pain. “Her hair… It is not like an Enduar’s. I wanted to see if it was soft like our females, if this is what we are meant to mate with.”
I grit my teeth. “Don’t ever touch my queen again. And if you speak like that in front of the humans, I doubt even your mate would want to touch you.”
The man nods once, fear in his eyes. I soften. I detect no malice inside of him, merely a curiosity that might be explained by fifty years separated from any female. Duty can do much to warm one’s soul, but the inhabitants of this bubble don’t seem particularly friendly toward each other.
I can see it in how they walk as individuals, hardly speaking. After the war, everyone in Enduvida was quiet and distant. I can extend an inch of grace to them as they see Estela for the first time.
“This is your last warning: don’t touch my wife,” I command again, punctuating each word with as much power as I possibly can. Her hand finds mine, and I bring it to my mouth to plant a soft kiss.
He watches the movement and then nods, rubbing his wrist as I step back. I turn to Si’Kirin. “One of you will take us to this spot after we are finished resting.”
Si’Kirin, who has been watching the exchange closely, nods. “It will be done. You can stay in Tir’Suel’s old room.”
I nod and then return to Estela. “Are you well?”
She looks at me with her deep brown eyes and smiles. “Yes. Thank you—te amo.?3”
Those words change everything. They remind me that we can do this.