Page 43 of The Oracle's Journey

“I stayed with the woodland troop for the rest of their excursion. They fed me and I was just so happy to eat that I did everything asked of me, afraid they’d stop if I disappointed them. Once I regained my strength, they put me to work as a … well, squire. It was some of the same work they had boys do in the warband, so it felt safe and familiar, and the woodland elves weren’t cruel. Standoffish for certain, but it was better than I was used to, so I wasn’t afraid for long.

“Once we made it to the woodlands, I was introduced to my new mother and sister, Imryll and Alyndra. That was a harder transition. Dark elf females are even worse than the males. I didn’t know how to respond to their patient kindness and I’m ashamed to say I was very difficult until the healers could ease the damage done to my … spirit for lack of a better word. Gradually I assimilated, forcing down all the dark tendencies that separated me from the woodland folk. Elven children are innocent and curious in the woodlands, so I was well tolerated by my peers, though the adults were cautious. I learned to read and write from my mother and studied sword art with my father. Once I was old enough to serve the community as a soldier, I did so. And when that time was over, I started training to work in the apothecary and learned how to treat wounds without magic. As you know I just wasn’t strong enough for traditional healing, but it was what my heart wanted to do more than anything else. Life was good until Dulanzo tracked me down and said Lobikno needed me—that I owed our brother for more than a century of freedom.”

Lobikno and his scars …

Cold dread settled about my shoulders. I attempted to speak, but the words tried to stick in my throat. I had to force them to my lips and they came out in the barest whisper. “What happened to Lobikno?”

Lhoris didn’t start again right away. I didn’t dare look back at him and risk his abandoning the story for my comfort.

“Lobikno survived in the wilds for almost a year before Dulanzo’s people found him. Normally, a deserter is just executed on the spot. As the commander’s brother, Lobikno would have to be brought back to serve as an example. No mercy for blood relations, quite the opposite really. Dulanzo would have simply humiliated and executed him, but with the leverage of my safety to hold over Lobikno’s head, Dulanzo could use him as a living example—to show the others that there are worse things than death. He was imprisoned, tortured, humiliated for years before being put back to work. Any time Dulanzo had to dole out punishment, Lobikno was included in the flogging whether or not he was part of the offending group.”

“He didn’t just kill himself? Or force them kill him?” I couldn’t imagine willingly living through all that without an end in sight, though I suspected the answer.

“By then, Dulanzo knew where to find me. He would come for me to serve in Lobikno’s place. I was also his brother and a deserter, no?”

“You were a child!” I looked back at Lhoris, my lip pulled back in a sneer. “You didn’t have any choice!”

He shook his head solemnly. “A deserter is a deserter, Oz. No exceptions. It is their way.”

Their way, not his. For that I was grateful.

“One day, our mother approached Dulanzo and asked him to choose the most gifted of his brothers to sire children for a new ally of hers. Some political union.” He scoffed. “None of my brothers had been strong enough to stay in the city along with her, so she picked from the warband. Lobikno wasn’t the most gifted, but he was the one Dulanzo took the most pleasure in tormenting. Being given away for breeding is hardly ever beneficial to the male half of the equation, and Dulanzo knew this female had a reputation for brutality.” The sound of Lhoris grinding his teeth together made me wince. “She abused Lobikno, badly, for decades before she bored of torturing and fucking him. None of which was he a consenting participant, mind you. When Lobikno was returned to the war band, he found all the sons he’d sired in that time had been sent there, deemed disposable. Dulanzo made certain the weakest ones were slowly killed the way I had almost died.He forced Lobikno to bear witness.”

Lhoris paused.

“It … broke him.”

My face twisted and I ground my teeth. Any remaining hard feelings toward Lobikno evaporated. How could someone that risked everything to rescue his little brother not break after that?

“Do you need me to stop?” Lhoris asked after a few heartbeats.

I took a deep breath and shook my head. “No. I want to know the whole story.” I’d seen a lot of cruelty in my work. People preyed on each other often and I’d witnessed the results personally. It kept me well motivated to balance the scales.

“If you’re sure,” he sighed.

“Absolutely,” I growled.

“Right. My adopted family begged me not to go, but I had to help Lobikno. To at least get him back on his feet. But his soul was shattered by the time I made it back. It took two years to get him functioning again. All the while my nephews, and other boys, wandered around beaten, neglected, and groomed to be monsters. Most of them were younger than me when I’d been stolen away from that nightmare. I tried hard to keep them safe or at least soothe and heal their wounds, but it wasn’t enough.”

Lhoris’ voice took on a harsh edge. “I finally couldn’t take it any longer. I made a deal with Dulanzo. If Lobikno and I could gather enough wealth, we could buy my nephews away from the warband and leave. If I could have bargained for all the children, I would have, but we had no claim. We never quite got to the amount he required, though. Dulanzo never intended us to, really. It was just a game to him. The crew he gave us were vicious morons, and we had to expand our territory to the human side of the mountains and supplement the crew with men to get anywhere.

“Then we kidnapped a wild little princess and her attendants because somebody fed us bad information about a dowry.”

I was speechless for a handful of heartbeats, unsure what to say. Weariness wore down the anger I’d felt on their behalf, leaving me hollow and grouchy for the inability to do anything about it. But Lhoris’ apprehension was palpable at my back. He needed me to say something. I cleared my throat.

“Well, it explains a lot.”

“What does it explain?” I could hear a frown and confusion in his voice.

I leaned back into him and rested a hand on his knee, to reassure him. Some of the tension ebbed from his body. “First, the way you’re so gentle and easy going. You didn’t live in that culture for much of your life. Second, Lobikno and his grumpy front. He’s just like you, except he did have to suffer through life there.”

I paused, unsure if my last observation was worth mentioning. Surely it couldn’t hurt to bring it up.

“Third, do you think the self-loathing over your dark elf qualities might be what’s been plugging up your magic?” I turned my head to peer up at him, “Does that make sense?” It wasn’t lost on me that his access to magic had become functional immediately after the conversation we had leaving Dulhal. “If you intended to push down the things that made you a dark elf, that intention might carry over. Couldn’t it?”

He stopped breathing and just stared back at me, thinking. “Yes,” he nodded slowly, brow creased, “that actually makes a lot of sense. Perhaps I’ve been overthinking the problem all this time.”

I snorted. “No, you never overthink,” I drawled, words heavy with sarcasm. “Like you didn’t become the most lethal swordsman I’ve personally met to compensate for your lack of magical talent. Like you’re not driven, intelligent, adaptable, and resourceful as shown by all your enchanted gear.” I paused, softened my tone and looked back up at him again. “Aren’t those all traits associated with your people? Those things make you exceptional, so it’s not all bad.”

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