Chapter 243: PROLOGUE - Part 1
NOTE: While Reth & Elia are separated between worlds, at least two other characters will be introduced as POV (Point of View) characters, in order to more fully tell the story. (Both Reth & Elia will need you to see other sides of their stories.) Pay attention at the beginning of each chapter or scene change to see who is narrating. I hope you enjoy getting to know these characters better!
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GAHRYE
Passing through the portal was like going underwater. For a moment that lasted forever, everything seemed to slow. Cold washed over Gahrye's skin and he felt like he was held—as if time slowed. Then he took another step and opened his eyes in the traverse. Dust motes drifted across his sight.
He blinked.
The cave ahead was little more than a rock-strewn path in midnight dark. It smelled wet, of rot and mildew and made his nose wrinkle. Yet, he could see nothing but dry, dusty ground falling away to a chilled, yawning dark on either side. His eyes pulled light from some invisible source that made the path almost glow—a soft haze that allowed him to see the way forward, but little more.
The path was a few feet wide, but the land appeared to fall off on either side into… nothing?
His own breath sounded loud, his heart thundering in his ears, but there was… nothing. Nothing else. He shifted the large bag he had slung over his shoulder, plus his own smaller one and waited, ears pricked for any sound or movement, waiting for the spirits he'd been warned about to attack. But… still nothing.
Uncertain whether to be nervous or grateful, Gahrye looked ahead at the dusty path and the dim glow of light in the distance that had to be the other end of the portal.
Get to the human world, he reminded himself. Protect the Queen. Return her safely to the King.
Gahrye set his teeth and took the first step.
As if his movement broke some tether, the voices began, rushing and howling around him. Along with the sense, the itch between his shoulder blades of hidden eyes.
"Hero… the hero has come to us," they whispered, cold voices that brushed his ears like icy breath.
The hair on the back of his neck stood tall, but he pushed forward.
"Victory is in his hands," they hissed.
"Misunderstood, they do not see it, but we do. Come to us."
"Under-valued. He offers victory, strength unseen."
"Hero."
"Hero."
Gahrye swallowed. He was not the hero here. Here he was the Guardian. But the word seemed to echo through the chamber and never really die. He forced himself to take another step forward and the voices doubled, speaking over each other as if rushing for his attention.
"Noble and strong… they are blind to what you bring, Misunderstood. We are not."
"We see."
"We value."
"We strengthen the strong."
"And you are very strong…"
Gritting his teeth against the urge to listen, he pushed forward, always forward, each step harder than the last, as if he pulled himself bodily through the deepest of swamps. He had to walk. That was all. Just walk. Ignore the voices. Ignore the call to listen and accept their—
"So often overlooked, you deserve more. So much more—"
"So often they spit on you. But we would empower you—let us show you. With us you can show them."
"I am here for the Queen, for the Anima, not for your… plots," he snarled through his teeth, but as if speaking to them had made them stronger, he could suddenly feel them. Near. The weight of their… bodies? Spirits? He wasn't sure. It was the feeling of a stranger's appearance at your back making the air move. It made his skin crawl, but he took another step.
"You cannot flee—you should not."
"We see you, Hero. We see you."
"They do not."
Gahrye caught movement off to his right. He snapped his head to look, but nothing was there.
Except, there was a flash of eyes glowing on his left and when he whirled to look that way, a soft chuckle like dry leaves blowing across the dirt, echoed around him.
"They do not know what they have. Take us with you. We will bring you everything they cannot see."
"The love of a mate."
"The strength of command."
"The wisdom, fierce wisdom you offer—we see it, Hero."
"Show them what they are blind to, Hero. We see you."
"Step off the path, Hero, and we will place you back on it, stronger. Better. We will make you what they do not believe is possible—"
"Show them, Hero."
"Take what is rightfully yours."
Gahrye kept walking slowly, slowly, shaking his head. They were tempters. Liars, he reminded himself. He was here for Elia—and to fulfill his vow to Reth.
But he couldn't escape the voices, swirling and whispering, tracing ice-cold fingers down his neck. "I do not want those things from you!" he screamed into the void.
"You do."
"You do."
"No more fighting for what should already be yours."
"No more being the only one who can see what you possess."
That one hit, right at his heart's core, and Gahrye blinked, his toe catching on a stone in the path and he stumbled.
"Hero."
"Hero."
"Hero."
"Take your vengeance, Hero. Show them who you really are. We can show them."
"They will never sneer at you again."
Gahrye blinked and an image bloomed in his mind.
An image so simple, but one that called his heart…
He walked through the market of the Tree City, and instead of meeting eyes averted, and shoulders turned away, instead the eyes of his fellow citizens raised to find his, alight with admiration. Smiles.
Bows.
Males clasped his arm, sought his insight.
Females stroked him with their eyes, jostled each other aside for his attention.
Gahrye swallowed and shook his head. He did not need adoration. He did not need power. He needed to get Elia and her baby through this war, and safely returned to the Tree City.
Bracing himself, he took another step. Then the whole world changed.
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