Etienne froze on the road, his fists clenched.
His fear was so terribly heavy. Ravenous. With a maw like a dragon threatening to swallow him whole. It was too much. Stronger than he was.
But Alphonse...
Etienne swallowed, forced himself to turn around.
He could do this. He could face Enyo and Delyth and Tristan even if it meant pain or death.
He could do this.
For Alphonse.
The mage took his first step back towards Thlonandras, then he took another. The blade in his chest did not stop its ceaseless slicing, but it was more bearable because Etienne knew it need not slice forever.
Chapter XXVII
Eighth Moon, First Quarter: Thloegr
The path up the brutal ridges of the behemoth peak that housed Thlonandras was winding, narrow, and in some places non-existent. Even in her prime, Enyo had kept the trail treacherous.
If her devoted followers wanted to experience the magnitude of her ascendance, then they must first pass through the gauntlet.
She thought it was perhaps the most devious and clever thing she had ever concocted, but Tristan and Delyth were looking at her warily. Unimpressed and frankly unappreciative. The Goddess snarled and gestured up the cliff face, a sheer drop to the left the only fate awaiting any traveler who slipped and fell. “That is the way to Thlonandras.”
She could see why the priestess might be hesitant. It had been a harrowing few days. The mortal had become practically a mute, her face frozen in perpetual shock since her little friend had abandoned her. She’d been less than useless, which was an accomplishment of sorts because she had hardly been pulling her weight beforehand.
But now Tristan and the priestess had needed to do everything for the pitiful vassal. Cook, bathe, feed…
Enyo shook back the curtain of golden hair and turned her face up to the bright sun overhead. At least with the vassal so thoroughly broken, she’d been easy to control. Supple in the Goddess’s hands.
But they would simply have to get up the ridge and into Thlonandras, and Enyo would have her basin. With her sacred object in hand, her consciousness would be fully merged into this body, and her powers restored. For the most part. Of course, inhabiting a mortal form would limit her somewhat, but there were ways around mortality.
For a Goddess, at least.
“Just one more day’s hike, and we shall reach Thlonandras and my wondrous basin. And then this tedious journey shall be at an end. Praise Va'al.”
༄
Delyth followed Enyo’s eyes up the horrible slope, taking in the frozen rock and slanting footpath. This was the last part of her journey, the last thing she would have to do to fulfill her duty to the temple.
She should have felt proud. Victorious even.
Instead, she just felt hollow.
Ever since the loss of Etienne, Alphonse had hardly been present. Mute, vacant-eyed. Delyth had to beg her for the simplest things: to eat a few bites in the evening or change her clothes. It was like she was lost already. Like she had just given everything over to Enyo. Like reaching the temple was less an end than a symbol of something that had already ended.
The priestess swallowed. Never before had she been so loath to complete a task for the temple. But the simple truth was that she no longer had any desire to see Enyo strengthened.
She just wanted Alphonse back.
Instead of answering Enyo, Delyth turned away from the ridge and dropped Alphonse’s bag onto the grass off to one side of the road. There wasn’t any point in camping away from the path. It wasn’t like other travelers were going to be coming by.
Behind her, Tristan was eyeing the path with a bored expression. “Are we camping so soon?”
It was an hour or so earlier than usual, but the priestess turned to him and nodded firmly. “I’m not getting stuck on that after dark.” It would be an entire day’s travel. Better just to leave it for the morning.
Enyo’s eyes widened. “Ba’oto! We cannot stop!” While this seemed like a debate, Enyo was already starting towards the steep climb.
“Enyo, that body isn’t used to a climb like that. It’ll be dangerous even when you can see where you’re going.” Delyth’s face was set, but she tried to reason with the Goddess rather than demanding. Not that there was any greater chance of success, but it was at least a less dangerous option. “What if you missed a step and fell? What if I couldn’t see you to catch you?”
She shook her head, throat closing. Delyth would not lose Alphonse.
Not any sooner than she had to.
“What happens to you if—if Alphonse dies?” Curse her voice for cracking. “Will you be trapped again, like before?”
For once, Tristan didn’t argue. Delyth knew he longed for the Goddess’s full return. Perhaps the idea of failing so close to success bothered him.
“She does have a point,” he said, shrugging at Enyo.
❂
Enyo actually slowed in her climb, reaching for one handhold only to glance over her slender shoulder at the two. The Priestess and the Rogue.
United. For once.
And Enyo didn’t know what would happen should this body die before she was bound to it. Would she simply claim a new body, perhaps that of the priestess? And then renew her attempt to gain access to the basin?
Or would she go back to… to that place? The void.
Shuddering, Enyo let herself drop back from the cliff face. She looked contemplative, typically an expression that then was followed up by some devious, terrible plan.
Yet…
She heaved a great sigh. “Fine.”
And just like that she walked off to admire the intimidating view down the mountainside.
༄
Delyth looked down at the pack containing the tent she shared with Alphonse and then turned away to join Enyo at the cliff face. The priestess didn’t speak, instead just staring down at the abrupt fall. At the craggy rock face, fading into obscurity and the sheen of Lake Penneidr miles and miles below.
She could just… step
