⚄
Eventually, Tristan gave up grumbling about how rude it was to wake people by screaming when there was obviously no immediate danger. Then, he re-emerged from his tent. This time, fully clothed.
Alphonse paced the clearing like a caged thing, anxiety twisting her features.
It didn’t take long for Tristan to figure out why, though he still didn’t say anything right away.
It wouldn’t do to look too ecstatic.
When he thought he could speak without laughing, the rogue strolled over to Alphonse, interrupting her along the path she was trying to trod into the packed dirt. “So, the boy finally got fed up with it all and left.” His voice was casual. At least it didn’t sound gloating.
Alphonse spun to look at Tristan, amber eyes flashing something like molten gold…
Enyo’s anger, surfacing through mortal veins. How thin the barrier had grown already.
But it was gone in an instant, and Alphonse shook her head. “He’d never leave me. We are best friends. We’re practically brother and sister. He… he wouldn’t leave me alone with—” With them. With Tristan. With Enyo…
Tristan drew his eyebrows together in mock concern. “Of course, you’re right. Etienne would never do that to you. You mean too much to him.”
He stepped away from her, peering at the ground where Etienne’s tent had been staked the previous night.
“Only, I don’t see any signs of a struggle, do you?” He paced around the area, one hand supporting his chin. “And the boy was no fighter, but surely he could have cried out or done a bit of magic to alert us.”
He gave up looking and wandered back to Alphonse, keeping his expression sorrowful.
This was almost too easy.
“Besides, what would be the purpose of just kidnapping one of us? Of taking only shelter and food enough for one person?” He looked off into the distance where Delyth had gone. “I mean, if I were going to steal, I wouldn’t be so careful about it. I’d just take it all.”
❀
The healer blanched. Tristan… did have a point.
She looked back to where Etienne had set up his tent. It looked as if it had never been there. As if he took the time to fold it up and pack it away, rather than just dragging it off like a wild animal or an attacker might.
“But,” she stuttered, her mind grasping. She was sinking into to some dark, wet pit with slick walls that offered no grip.
Etienne would not leave her. Not when they were so close to the temple. Not when Enyo was getting so strong. He wouldn’t leave her to Enyo! He wouldn’t doom her to a life like this. He was the only one who knew how to bind Enyo!
He wouldn’t.
But… he was gone. Where had he gone? Why? Was he going ahead to—to scout out the temple?
“Maybe he got a head start?”
Tristen just looked at Alphonse. “If you say so, mouse.” He didn’t laugh, but his tone made it clear that he didn’t believe it.
Severallong, slow minutes passed before Delyth returned, this time from the opposite side of the camp. Initially, Alphonse had stepped towards Delyth, relieved and desperate to hear the news. To know where Etienne had gone… But with the pained look the warrior was giving her, Alphonse stumbled to a halt.
“Alphonse.” The warrior was breathing hard, as though she’d gone at great speed. “Alphonse, I didn’t see him.”
Delyth’s face was drawn, her skin pale. “I’m so sorry, dear one, but the roads are perfectly smooth in either direction, as if…”
She couldn’t finish, but Tristan could. “As if by magic?”
“Smooth? What do you mean? Why would they be smooth?” Did she mean there were no tracks? Hiding which way he went?
Why would he hide his route?! Unless he was going to the temple to set up?
Yes. Yes, surely, that was it. But…
“Why?” Why didn’t he tell her he was going? Why had he snuck off in the dead of night? Alphonse grabbed both sides of her head, trying to think. Trying to reason the way Etienne would. His sharp, meticulous mind.
He would leave to…
Well.
“Why would he leave?” she asked aloud, not expecting an answer. He’d leave because the project was over. The spell was cast. The transfiguration complete. He only lost interest in something once he had met his goal. Which meant...Which meant.
“He’s done with me?”
“It looks that way, doesn’t it?”
Delyth glared at Tristan. “We don’t know that.” She stretched her hand out towards Alphonse, took a step closer.
He had given up. He had left her to Enyo. He had fled without so much as a goodbye—in the dead of night like some thief. He knew Delyth was loyal to her temple. He knew Tristan was deeply interested in seeing Enyo restored.
He knew his magic had been her only hope of survival.
And yet he was gone.
He had abandoned the spell because it was already ruined. Already lost. He saw no point in trying to repair the permanently broken.
“He left,” Alphonse repeated blankly. There was an echo of silence in her mind as the word bounced around. Alone.
Alone.
“I—I’m… alone.”
Not alone. Never alone, Enyo’s wicked voice crooned. Alphonse sagged where she stood. The Goddess was right. Never again would Alphonse be alone with her thoughts, her feelings, her fears.
Enyo would be there forever.
Because Enyo was not going to be banished or bound or cast out.
Enyo was going to have her body, and Etienne had left her to that fate.
Never alone.
Never Alphonse.
Never again.
༄
Delyth rushed forward to support Alphonse, where she stood, limp and dragging. All thoughts of Tristan had fled her mind. She didn’t care that he was there.
“You have me, Alphonse.” Her voice broke jagged on the edges.
How many times did she have to say it? What would she have to do to get Alphonse to believe it?
“You aren’t alone.” She dragged Alphonse’s face up to meet hers. “And I know this hurts; I know you feel abandoned. But I’m still here. I won’t leave you.”
And she
