The Essence Wars--An Envious God, page 58
The morning brought no relief. Whatever had stirred in the dusk had grown heavier by dawn, threading through them with quiet tension. They were fugitives, each in their own way, and the island had swallowed them whole. The weight of it settled over them in silence, and as the hours dragged on, doubt turned to frustration. There was nothing to fight, no clear enemy to curse, only the slow, unyielding pull toward something none of them could name.
By midday, they had left the jungle behind. The terrain shifted to craggy outcrops and open air, the thick canopy giving way to a sky layered in deep gray. They crossed unmarked creeks, wading through waters no map had ever named, each valley funneling them toward Essidelven’s Peak. The base of the mountain was now clear, a looming presence just a few miles ahead. Its spire, however, was lost in the mist.
Vorruk had become particularly fixated on the mountain streams, where fish darted in the shallows. He plunged a paw into the water and, with almost no effort, tore a fish free, swallowing it whole. Kaedryn groaned, stepping forward and shouting at him to catch more. Vorruk, unimpressed, obliged, flinging fish onto the rocks with lazy swings of his claws.
For the first time all day, the tension broke. Maerwyn and Grantchu joined in, wading into the stream, laughing as they attempted to snatch fish from the water with their hands. Even Braegor joined the chaos, snapping at the flashing silver bodies beneath the surface, though his efforts proved less successful. Cyre sat on the riverbank, tail flicking, watching the scene unfold with silent amusement.
They decided to camp at the base of the peak for the night. There was no clear path forward now. The Kherastis Tree had no marker, no guidance. It was as elusive as the Grwentree that had once given rise to the Thunderbow.
Vorruk devoured his meal raw while the others roasted their catch over a driftwood fire, a rare indulgence drawn from waters this clean. No voices. No pursuit. Just the soft hush of wind across stone. The scent of crisping flesh rose into the cool mountain air, too thin to carry far. The night passed in uneasy quiet, each of them stealing only fragments of sleep before the gray morning called them forward once more.
They moved with renewed purpose, following the braided stream that had provided their bountiful catch. The water, a striking aquamarine, flowed in twisting ribbons between smooth, marbled stone, its clarity so pure that Maerwyn could see every detail etched into the riverbed below. The air was fresher here, untouched and unspoiled. She couldn’t help but marvel at it. Why had this place never become a paradise for men? Even as the thought entered her mind, she dismissed it. Perhaps it was better this way. Some places were meant to remain wild.
By midday, they had wandered deep into the valley, where sparse trees lined the river’s edge, their canopies stretching high into the mist-laden sky. They stopped to eat, the hush of the water filling the silence between them. As Maerwyn chewed, her eyes swept the landscape with idle curiosity, until something caught her attention.
On the far bank, just beyond a small stand of trees, the land seemed... different. A path? No, not quite. There were no clear markings, no cuttings in the undergrowth, but the ground bore the unmistakable impression of movement. Not the erratic, twisting trails of animals. Something else entirely. Tracks that followed a steady course, as if made by someone who knew the terrain and had passed through recently.
She frowned, studying it longer. The longer she looked, the less natural it seemed.
‘There,’ she murmured, nudging Grantchu and Kaedryn. She didn’t look away, even as they followed her gaze. ‘Do you see it?’
They did.
The three of them sat in silence, watching as the wind shifted through the trees. There was nothing inherently unnatural about the clearing, though it bore the quiet marks of use.
Maerwyn finished her meal, set aside what little remained, and rose. Without a word, she waded into the shallows, the cold water lapping against her boots as she crossed the stream. She had only just reached the halfway point when she stopped cold.
Vorruk, bounding playfully through the water, brushed past her without a care. Grantchu followed. Braegor hesitated, stopping mid-stride in the knee-deep current. Even Kaedryn slowed, his expression tightening.
Because now, up close, it revealed itself, undeniable and unmistakable.
One tree among the others on the northern bank rose like a living impossibility.
It was magnificent.
Even beneath the dull gray sky, its bark shimmered. It wasn’t moisture, nor the glossy sheen of rain, but something else entirely. Light seemed to catch in its surface, dancing in symmetrical patterns that defied the natural world. Though its trunk was wood, solid and ancient, something else wove through its form. Scattered across its bark and rising into the highest canopy were pieces of something pearlescent, like shards of crystal or the dust of a shattered diamond. It reflected with an ethereal glow, shifting as they moved, glimmering in ways that no ordinary tree should.
For a long, breathless moment, none of them spoke.
Maerwyn’s chest tightened, her breath caught between awe and disbelief.
This was no ordinary tree.
This was something else.
And in its presence, she felt—no, she knew—they had found the Kherastis Tree.
They approached its massive trunk with cautious reverence. The embedded Kherastite shimmered high in the canopy, untouched, unreachable. There were no fallen shards, no scattered remnants, only those secured to the tree’s limbs, as if nature itself had locked them away.
Their awe lingered, stretching through the quiet, until fascination gave way to something colder.
Maerwyn turned, her gaze sweeping the forest behind the clearing. The paths were worn and purposeful, unmistakably human. Someone had been here, and not long ago. Even in a place this sacred.
What unsettled her most was Braegor’s nose, pressed to the bark as if the scent had only just begun to fade.
Kaedryn tensed, tilting his head as he reached for the sounds beyond the wind, beyond the rustling leaves. He drew a breath, then let it slip through his teeth with a shake of his head.
‘I don’t hear anything unusual. Just the forest.’
Maerwyn’s tension held firm. A path like that wasn’t made by animals.
‘We follow it.’
Grantchu turned to her. ‘Smugglers?’
‘Maybe. We won’t know unless we push forward.’
She glanced at Vorruk. The bear, massive and utterly incapable of stealth, would be a liability on any quiet approach. Leaving him behind wasn’t an option, either.
‘How do we keep Vorruk from giving us away?’ she asked.
Kaedryn scoffed. ‘We don’t. He’s a bear. He’s going to do bear things.’ He gestured toward the open wilderness ahead, where the jungle thinned into rugged slopes and wind-bent trees.
‘This land suits him better. It’s open, less tangled. Terrain for a fighter, not a ghost. He was made for war. If something or someone is out there, we’ll be damn glad he’s with us.’
‘And if he gives us away?’
Kaedryn’s voice was steady. ‘Then we deal with whatever hears us coming. If Vorruk doesn’t go, I don’t go. And then you’re alone.’
Maerwyn sighed. Grantchu raised an eyebrow.
‘Is there anyone here?’ he asked.
Kaedryn’s expression darkened once more. He hesitated before speaking. ‘I... I don’t know. I don’t hear anything. But I also don’t think we’re alone.’
Maerwyn looked to him, then to Grantchu. Neither believed he was wrong. All three understood what they wouldn’t say aloud. This island was not theirs.
She straightened. ‘Then we push on. Quietly. If we’re heard, we prepare for that too. Vorruk stays with us.’
They left the Kherastis Tree behind, stepping into the unknown, following the first true human tracks they had come across. The path cut through ridges, the terrain steepening as they pressed forward. For nearly two miles, they moved in careful silence.
Then Kaedryn stopped.
His hand shot up, signaling for stillness.
Maerwyn and Grantchu watched as he closed his eyes, his breath slowing, his focus stretching outward. He stood there for a long moment, the sounds of the island pressing in around him.
His face tensed.
‘I think...’ he began, his voice low. ‘There’s a structure ahead. Over the ridge, through a clearing. It’s man-made.’
Maerwyn’s fingers tightened around her belt. ‘How many people?’
Kaedryn frowned, concentrating harder. ‘I can’t tell. We’re too far.’ A longer pause. ‘But... I think I hear something. Movement. Voices, maybe. It’s faint. I need to get closer.’ His jaw clenched. ‘I think I need to go alone.’
Grantchu didn’t like it. Kaedryn had proven himself time and again, not just as a fighter but as their edge. His Gift gave them reach beyond sound, awareness beyond sight. Losing him now wouldn’t leave them blind, but it would strip away their greatest advantage.
Vorruk released a deep huff, jaws stretching wide in a slow, toothy yawn as Kaedryn rose to his feet. The bear watched him go, but remained where he was, ears twitching as Kaedryn made a silent motion for him to stay. The forest swallowed him in an instant, the muted gray light of the overcast sky barely reaching through the canopy.
They waited.
Minutes passed like hours, each second a slow crawl beneath the press of stillness. Maerwyn crouched in the undergrowth, her hands resting lightly against the damp earth, her senses stretched outward into the silence. A faint rustle stirred the track ahead. It might have been an animal. Or something heavier. She shifted her weight, slow and deliberate, her fingers closing around the hilt of her sword.
‘It’s me,’ came Kaedryn’s voice, low from the trees. ‘Don’t attack.’
Grantchu let out a short breath through his nose, the tension in his stance refusing to ease even as Kaedryn slipped back into the clearing. Kaedryn’s return brought no relief. Maerwyn caught it in his eyes, the tightness in his posture. Something was wrong.
‘There is something there,’ he confirmed, voice hushed. ‘There’s a fort of some kind. Stone structure. It’s not large, but it’s built. I counted six, maybe seven people, but there could be more. Hard to say.’ He ran a hand over his face, as if trying to wipe away his unease. ‘I don’t know who they are. They could be Eastern Union, Aurenvia Tollitch... maybe even someone else entirely. One thing’s clear—they’re armed.’
Silence settled over the group like a heavy fog.
‘If they’re smugglers, then we kill them,’ Maerwyn said, voice flat. ‘They have no right to Kherastite. And if they’re working for the Chancellor, they’re funding a war. That makes them enemies.’
Kaedryn hesitated. ‘We don’t know they’re smugglers.’
‘Then we find out,’ Grantchu muttered.
Kaedryn shifted his stance. A controlled breath eased from his nose, though tension still coiled beneath his skin. ‘We have two choices. We go in, take them out before they even know we’re here. Or... we surrender and see what they want.’
Grantchu scoffed. ‘Surrender? That’s a damned joke.’
‘I agree,’ Maerwyn said. ‘Whoever they are, they’re not our friends.’
Kaedryn looked between them, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘If we do this, we need to be smart about it. The fort isn’t particularly secure. I saw several windows, north-facing, wide open. We could get in easily. Two men had occupied the lower right-side room for some time. One of them paced the corridor outside, likely acting as a sentry. Another three were upstairs, playing some kind of game. No one looked like they were preparing for an attack.’
Maerwyn flexed her fingers against her belt, already making calculations in her head.
‘You can take position at the ridge,’ Kaedryn continued. ‘Perhaps you can cut down the guards before they raise an alarm.’
Grantchu nodded. ‘If we take them by surprise, it’ll be over fast. No one expects a fight in a place this remote.’
Grantchu rolled his shoulders, pushing the breath from his lungs in a slow release.
Maerwyn’s pulse thrummed in her ears.
This place held the island’s secrets.
The Chancellor. The Kherastite. The smuggling.
It all came back to this place.
And now, they were going to take it.
They moved to the ridge, crouched beneath the cover of thick brush. The afternoon light was waning, shadows creeping long across the forest floor. If they were going to strike, it had to be now.
From their vantage point, Vorruk remained well behind them, silent and still, while the small stone fort lay exposed ahead. Gray and weather-worn, it was open in structure, more of an outpost than a stronghold. If they had been expected, there was no sign of it.
Maerwyn settled into position, the Thunderbow steady in her grip. The sentry moved in methodical paces, weaving between the open windows. Kaedryn knelt beside her, whispering every detail he sensed. His awareness moved through the shadows like a blade, mapping the guard’s rhythm with a precision no ordinary sight could match.
She nocked the first Soulpiercer.
As she did, the image flashed: Lady Elyth standing in the brothel, the gleam of the Soulpiercer in her grasp. The memory of the arrow that had once struck Umbraxis down. That should have killed him. That had not.
The tip of the arrow followed the sentry’s steps.
Maerwyn controlled her breathing. She needed him to fall unseen. She waited, watching, pulse steadying as he drifted toward the eastern edge of the fort, toward a line of bushes that would conceal his body.
The whistle came first. Then the thwack.
The sentry crumpled before he could make a sound, the arrow driving clean through his back and out his chest. His corpse dropped behind the bushes, disappearing into the undergrowth.
Kaedryn drew a tight breath through his nose, then let it go slowly, tension still coiled in his frame.
‘Two more,’ he murmured. ‘Bottom floor. Near the open windows. Sitting.’
He described them with precise accuracy: where they sat, how the light moved across their faces, where the shadows broke against the stone walls.
Maerwyn adjusted her aim. Two targets. Two arrows.
The first Soulpiercer slid into place.
Air cracked open with the shot, a thunder-snap that shattered the silence. One man lurched forward, a strangled breath escaping before his body sagged over the table.
Across from him, the second man flinched. His hand shot toward his weapon, but too late. The second arrow whispered through the shadows and struck clean.
He collapsed before his fingers even brushed steel.
Kaedryn swallowed. It was unsettling, the sheer precision, the deadly perfection.
Three remained. The last group, upstairs.
‘One’s moving,’ he warned.
Maerwyn held position.
The man rose, walking toward the open window.
If he looked out, he would see the body below.
Kaedryn whispered every detail: the pacing of his steps, the slight tilt of his head, the moment he leaned forward, peering into the distance.
She loosed.
The arrow met him between the ribs before he even saw the clearing. His body dropped with a dull thud against the window frame.
A chair scraped against the stone.
‘They know,’ Kaedryn hissed.
The two remaining men jolted upright, eyes flicking toward their fallen companion. One turned sharply and sprinted for the hallway. The other, startled but frozen in hesitation, lingered by the window.
He didn’t linger long.
Maerwyn had already nocked and loosed. The Soulpiercer hissed through the air, parting it with a razor’s whisper before landing with a sharp thwack. The man toppled forward, his body striking the frame hard before crumpling into the dark.
Kaedryn, still watching from the ridge, tensed again.
‘The other one’s in the hall.’
Maerwyn eased her grip on the bow, lowering it slightly. Their advantage had passed. The element of surprise was gone, and the hunt had shifted.
They were no longer the predators.
They were about to be prey.
‘They’re coming,’ Kaedryn said, voice low but steady, just loud enough for Grantchu to hear.
He descended the ridge, Vorruk falling into stride beside him, his massive frame bristling with readiness. Grantchu took the higher ground, Cyre a silent shadow at his heels. Braegor straddled Maerwyn’s side, his fur bristling.
‘Crossbows,’ Kaedryn murmured. His eyes flickered shut for a moment, his breath steadying. ‘Seven... no. Ten.’
The first bolts loosed through the trees, snapping through branches, embedding into bark. Wild shots. Probing. Finding their range.
Kaedryn inhaled sharply. ‘One in the upper window, reloading. He moves on my count... three... two...’
Maerwyn loosed a Soulpiercer.
The sound cracked like a whip, splitting the air. The man barely had time to register the impact before slumping lifelessly behind the wall.
‘They’re moving to flank.’ Kaedryn’s voice was tight. ‘Ten. Definitely ten.’
‘How many crossbows?’
‘Three left. All upper level.’
‘We take them out, we run. Straight through the front.’
Grantchu nodded. But the moment she spoke, the forest came alive with movement. Voices barked orders, and the thudding of boots pounded through the undergrowth. They were surrounded now, the enemy closing in with practiced coordination.
The first soldier crashed through the foliage, his blade clashing against Grantchu’s with an ear-splitting ring. Sparks crackled from Grantchu’s sword as he met the attack with sheer force, but his opponent held firm, pushing him backward, step by step, out of the trees and into the open.
Cyre slinked into the shadows, vanishing without a sound.
Maerwyn lunged to intercept the attackers, her blade catching the faint orange haze as dusk surrendered to night.
A sudden flash lit the clearing as Kaedryn reeled, momentarily blinded by a burst of white-hot light erupting from an attacker’s sword. Maerwyn flinched, one arm raised against the glare, her vision fragmenting as the forest around them spiraled into chaos.
