Luka
The smell of the potion was almost unbearable. I had no idea those concoctions could be so pungent; none of the others that Mags had made had ever smelled that bad, at least not to my recollection. It was an acrid odor that seemed to permeate everything in its vicinity, and it made me feel queasy and uneasy. I felt like I wanted to vomit, but somehow managed to keep myself together while standing there in front of her. Whatever the witch was cooking was definitely an old, magick spell. Something darker, and not of the gods.
Rhen had asked her to deliver a message to Baz, and although she agreed, she made it clear that it would take some time. She explained that in order to put together the necessary components for the task, she’d have to make the journey back home.
“Not even a single pig organ in this place, can you believe that?” she asked.
I swallowed hard, not wanting to contemplate having to drink something with any trace of organ meat in it. My stomach churned at the thought, and I crossed my arms in a vain attempt to ward off that feeling of dread as images of the grotesque-looking meat filled my mind.
Moments later, Elm stepped into the room with a large map in his hands. Carefully, he unrolled it across the table, taking extra caution to prevent it from curling back again. He held the edges down with several glass cups around its circumference in order to keep it flat and fixed in place. His expression was intense as he looked over the map, tracing his finger slowly along lines and curves that marked its surface.
“Wonderful! Let’s see. Do you have a baster?”
Elm made a face, and although the blind nymph couldn’t see him, she waved her hand into the air. “No matter, this will do.”
She delicately and deliberately scooped up a large spoonful of the rich, dark brown liquid and carefully poured it onto the map. It glistened in the dimly lit room as she watched it slowly spread across its creases and curves.
The liquid curdled, and I realized it wasn’t brown, but a very dark red. My stomach turned again when I made the connection that it was coagulated blood. It pooled in one area, thickening but not moving from the place where she’d poured it.
Her lips began to move, and a blanket of silence fell over the room. A hand hovered above the map of Etherean, and incomprehensible words spilled out of her mouth in an unfamiliar language. I watched in amazement as a thin line of blood slowly traced its circles around each territory on the map, like it was searching for something only it could see. Again and again, it paused for just a moment, almost as if there was something within each region drawing its attention before it moved on. Finally, it traveled off the map and out into the depths of the sea.
Suddenly, the blood stopped and vibrated. I felt a wave of energy ripple across my skin as the vibration intensified, almost like an earthquake had just run through the room. Then, almost as if someone had flicked a switch, the shaking abruptly stopped, and the blood completely soaked into the map.
“It didn’t work,” I said dishearteningly, staring at the parchment.
Elm’s face crumpled in disappointment, but Rhen shook her head.
“No, wait. Look.” She pointed at the blood spatter and observed a small blimp in the water that I had initially mistaken for a fleck of dust. The map was old, so I expected it to be a bit dirty; however, this anomaly caught my eye.
“There’s nothing there,” Elm said, but he squinted harder at the speck and his eyes widened.
Ayesha smiled warmly and tenderly patted Rhen’s hand, her fingertips filled with assurance. “Daphne is an island. Well done, darling.”
Rhen could not help but smile in triumph. Joyfully, they called for Kol and Phyre, summoning them into the kitchen to share the good news.
“Tell Phylix that we’ve found it. There’s no time to waste. Rhen and I are going now.”
Kol stretched his wings and flapped them as he confidently declared, his voice carrying an undertone of pride. “And me.”
Elm shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable and almost icy. “No.”
The sylph’s face crumpled. “I’m fine. I can make the trip.”
“Which is exactly why you can’t go. I need you here, guarding the stone.”
I cocked my head in surprise. I hadn’t realized that when they mentioned having the stone, it really meant that he was keeping it here in the fortress. To think that Xandrea had been within these walls so close to the Article and had left it here.
Kol seemed just as shocked by the news. “The stone? I thought it was with the Hunt.”
Long white hair coiled around Elm’s fingers as he gathered and secured it into a low bun, layered so the shaved side of his head was hidden. Since the equinox, his free-flowing locks had grown in quite a bit and were now reaching an awkward stage that refused to be harnessed back behind his ear. He sighed with slight frustration as he tried to style it to perfection.
“Apparently, the General decided it would be safer in royal hands—something about concealing its aura, so I placed it in Gaia’s box. Rhen is the only one that can open it.”
“Then shouldn’t she be the one to guard it? Let her stay. Please, I can feel my muscles withering away.”
Kol’s gray eyes were wide with pleading desperation, but Elm could not be swayed; his expression remained resolute. Kol sighed heavily, a deep sound that seemed to express his defeat. Elm placed a comforting hand on Kol’s shoulder before slowly withdrawing it again. “Follow the protocol, brother. If we aren’t back within the allotted time, you know what to do.”
He groaned but nodded his head in agreement. “Fine, but the moment I feel something is off, fuck protocol.”
Rhen moved in closer to him, her body language indicating her potent emotions. She tentatively placed a hand on his cheek, the warmth of his skin radiating through her fingertips. His face was slightly scruffy from a few days of not shaving, and she closed her eyes at the sensation it gave her. Taking a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what must come, she slowly pulled away.
“I promise we will come home safe, but if we don’t, then you can have Elm’s room.” She winked, then shoved her hand back inside the pocket of her pants.
Trying to stifle his smile, he cocked his head slightly and glanced over at Elm, who just shrugged in response.
“All right, now we’re talking.”
Ten minutes later, I watched Rhen and Elm slowly fade into obscurity, as if the night was swallowing them up. Phyre warmly embraced Kol one last time before walking off. I watched them all go off their separate ways, the thought of them never coming back together again looming in my mind.
Kol’s frame filled the kitchen doorway as they turned to face me, a wave of emotions washing over his features. Our eyes met mine, and he paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words to say. “So.” The soft glow of the feylight brought to life the hint of dark stubble that graced his jawline as he tilted his head. “What now?”
We sat in a stillness that seemed to last an eternity before Kol abruptly got up and made his way to his bedroom. There was something about him that caused my stomach to plunge; he was obviously downcast, like he had taken a jagged shard from the silence and incorporated it into himself. The slight tension in the air lingered long after he left.
He was so cute when he was sulking.
I inhaled a sharp breath at the thought. What was I thinking?
Sure, he was nice looking. Definitely an attractive male, for a sylph. Easy on the eyes, but cute? That was the sort of adjective I reserved for my niece and nephew, not a guy.
So, when he returned half an hour later, my face was still flushed with embarrassment. I had been sitting there for so long, my heart fluttering the entire time.
“Are you feeling okay?” He leaned forward a bit, his expression a combination of worry and confusion. He was just about to reach out and place his hand gently on my forehead to check if I was running a fever when I recoiled slightly, both palms turning up in an almost instinctive defensive gesture.
“I’m fine, seriously.”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise, as though he was taken aback by my sudden outburst, but he wisely chose not to push the issue any further. The uneasy silence that filled the room when I finished speaking was almost palpable. He moved from his previous spot and settled himself down beside me on the sofa, maintaining a safe distance between us.
We both sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity, neither of us daring to utter a word. The atmosphere was heavy, the tension between us thick. I wanted to say something, anything really, but words failed me. I wasn’t sure if it would be too little or too much; would it soften the mood or make matters worse?
“You know,” he said finally, “this is the first time this place has been this quiet since the human got here.”
I rolled my eyes. “She has a name, you know.”
He cracked a faint smile, lingering on his lips for a moment before fading away. He kept his gaze firmly ahead, focused on the vivid painting that hung on the wall. “I know,” he said quietly.
When I saw the work, I immediately recognized it. It was some of Elm’s handiwork; he had always been passionate about painting landscapes. He found solace in depicting nature and wildlife, spending countless hours perfecting his art. His depiction of serenity and creativity were masterful.
I had watched him during my training shifts as he would take up residence on a patch of grass, only equipped with his wooden pallet and white board. He would spend hours diligently working with his bare fingers against the canvas until finally he’d created a stunning landscape. This one was different, though, darker. It was unlike anything I’d ever witnessed before; The colors were stark, and the sights were eerie, yet strangely captivating. While it made me feel uneasy, I couldn’t help but admire his work.
“He was a broken man when I met him,” Kol offered, still staring at the painting. “That was the first thing he painted when he came to live with the Hunt.”
“What is it?”
Kol turned to me; his eyes filled with sympathy. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I shook my head, and he scoffed, as if it should have been obvious. “It’s the palace.”
Squinting my eyes, I looked again, trying to make sense of it. The dark color scheme, the red flowers that seemed to be bleeding. But Kol was right. The structure, the pillars. It was the palace, but not the way I remembered it.
Was that how Elm had viewed it when he’d left? A black hole that sucked life from everything? It had been his home—our home—yet he hated it so furiously that he’d painted it without light.
“It took him a long time to open up to us. I think it was after Jules,” he paused, a pain in his eyes at the mention of the name, “He told me about you. That leaving you alone with his brother was one of his biggest regrets. Of course, he’d kill me for saying this, but he missed your friendship every day. But I understood him. Knew exactly why he put on the big scary face and screwed around.”
When I didn’t reply, he sighed with a sense of disappointment and frustration, as if the answer was so obvious to him it was pointless to say it out loud. “Fear, Luka. We are all afraid of losing the only good thing in our lives. He hurt you to save you, as stupid as that sounds.”
I knew that. Felt it radiating from his body every time I was in the same room as him. Yet, hearing it spoken aloud was a different sort of experience.
“Well,” Kol said, nervously running his hands along the legs of his pants before rising from his seat, a determined look on his face. “That’s enough sappy shit for the day.”
“No, wait—”
He turned toward me, but I felt my courage faltering and stumbled over my words, unable to vocalize the question on my mind. It had been so long since I’d felt anything for Elm. Too much time had passed since then and I had forced those emotions away until they were nothing more than a distant memory.
The ache in my heart still lingered, but I no longer felt the same sense of attachment I had to him. Maybe that was why he’d decided to leave, to give me time to heal my wounds. We both knew the relationship would never have become romantic, so he’d done the right thing by severing our ties.
I’d had a few female lovers myself, nothing long-term or particularly meaningful, but just enough so that I could appease my parents and their expectations of me.
But I couldn’t give them what they truly desired. Despite my admiration and attraction towards them, the deep connection that I longed for was always missing, and I knew I could never settle for anything less.
My gaze found its way to Kol’s, and I couldn’t help but smile. Our eyes connected, and I felt an intense warmth radiating between us. He looked so vulnerable, then so strong in that moment; my heart fluttered in response.
His face transformed into a smug, almost arrogant expression; one brow raised higher than the other. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, as if amused. “Why do you look like you’re about to kiss me, fox?” His tone was mocking, yet warm and inviting at the same time.
I stammered. “Wh—what are you talking about?”
He let out a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling up with mirth. His laugh was infectious, and soon the room was filled with the sound of joy. The corners of his mouth threatening to split as he continued laughing, an expression of pure happiness on his face. He leaned back in his chair slightly, wiping away happy tears from the corners of his eyes as he finally caught a break in between laughter spasms to take a deep breath. “Hey, don’t be embarrassed, I’d kiss me too if I could.”