Chapter 24
Eldric
E ldric sat alone in the cottage before the hearth and watched the logs crack beneath the dancing flames. Lost in the mesmerizing swirls of smoke wafting up the chimney. Lost in his thoughts about how the life he’d begun to build was crumbling. Lost without her.
He knew Lorali had been within the temple these past two weeks, had followed the tug of his heart through the dark-kissed city until it brought him to the double oak doors. He did not knock; he had no right to show up and demand to see her.
What good would an explanation or an apology be to make up for the past? He had delivered her to the temple that night without question, without thinking. Hidden the truth once he learned it. Had planned to take advantage of her, believing it to be a sacrifice for the greater good. Violated her trust when she had shown him nothing but kindness. How could he ever make that right ?
He blinked his dry eyes, looking down to the palm of his hand with its white scar that was beginning to fade. It ached slightly with the changing weather as winter deepened its claws into the land. But it was nothing compared to what he had been dealing with since she left. The sharp, pulsing pain wrapped around his head, burying itself into the base of his skull. A constant companion in her absence. One he deserved. But she did not.
The thought of her suffering because of his mistakes had him taking a paring knife from the drawer and anointing it in the hearth’s flames until it burned hot. He had never been one for prayer, but he uttered the words he had learned as a child. They were not the ancient ones that dripped from Lorali’s lips when her magic came alive, but they were what he had, and he hoped that the fact that he was bound by Athanasios’ hand would leave some connection that he could follow. Maybe the god would feel pity for the woman who so selflessly bound herself to an oathbreaker and would free her from this misery. Eldric cried out as the still-hot steel of the blade dipped painfully into the flesh of his palm.
He sat in stunned surprise as his vision began to blur and turn dark, as it had when they were bound, pulled into a realm meant for gods. Somewhere other than his physical body. Power surged through him for a moment, as if the connection had snapped into place. He wondered if this is what Lorali felt when she communed with the gods. Eldric’s brows scrunched as he tried to focus, to pull his thoughts away from Lorali’s warm touch amid the creeping cold of Athanasios’ realm. He braced himself, remembering the feeling of frost spider-webbed across his skin and frozen bones, as if he’d been plunged into the depths of the jewel in winter. But it never came.
His brows furrowed. He wasn’t sure how all of this worked, but the feeling had been similar to start. But now instead of frozen cold, he felt the warmth of the hearth enveloping him, a sense of safety washing him in its orange-white glow. But his eyes were open, blinking into a clear sky, as if he were in the clouds themselves. That sharp pain fading into nothing as he heard his name whispered on a breeze.
Eldric.
He turned around and found himself facing a tall woman in a flowing white dress. Her skin glowed as if she were made of starlight itself, white hair and eyes so reminiscent of Lorali’s that he thought he might be dreaming. She smiled, as if he’d said the thought aloud.
Who are you? he asked, wary. The woman stayed at a distance, a content smile playing across her face. Her hands were folded together across her abdomen, swollen and taut as ripe fruit. The goddess’s voice was feather light.
I am Ostara. She gave no epithet, her name carrying all it needed to.
You weren’t who I was trying to reach. Eldric’s eyes narrowed, hesitant. How had he ended up in the goddess’s presence?
No, I am not. But my hands have guided your path since birth, young Lorecaster.
Eldric snorted, then realized that perhaps he shouldn’t laugh in the presence of a god. He did not know how to navigate this. He had seen Lorali’s interactions with Athanasios, had some sort of bearing. But the goddess? He was at a loss.
You must have me confused with someone else. I am no believer of yours.
She laughed softly, a warm sound like birdsong in the morning. Your faith does not determine if my hand touches your fate.
The oathbreaker did not avert his gaze or let the goddess distract him from his mission. I have business with Athanasios.
I know. And I know what you seek.
Hope flickered to life within, leaving him breathless. Would she do this, not for him, but for her high cleric? Someone who had devoted her life to the service of the goddess?
Will you grant it?
The goddess shook her head. No.
His jaw tightened, chest constricting. He should have known; it was foolish to expect the gods to care for the lives of mortals. Anger flared, his voice raising as he stepped forward to make his plea.
Lorali is your most devout believer. She creates miracles in your name. Rather than guiding my worthless life, you should have been guiding hers. Or, better yet, you should have been fixing the corruption within the Order so she could have lived a real life.
The goddess was quiet at his rage. As if he were a child throwing a tantrum and she, his patient mother.
Every step has led you here. Where you are meant to be. This is the right path. Do not stray.
The right path means nothing if you walk it alone.
Yes. The goddess smiled, eyes seeming to light with joy. You have learned that lesson well.
A white mist began to move in, the vision blurring as her words hung on the air.
Have faith that your guiding light will return to you. Follow her. She is where you are meant to be .
He gasped, throwing out his hand with a shout as if it would stop her. Before he knew it, he was left, breathless, on the floor of Lorali’s cottage with a bleeding wound and nothing to show for it. He tried again and again to call upon the gods, any god that would listen, without answer.