Page 133 of Of Blood & Stone

“Clever, sister. Very clever. But not enough, I’m afraid.” He motioned to the Kreena. “Destroy it, so my sister can’t communicate with anyone else ever again.”

Kneeling down, the woman gripped a giant root, her power shooting out of her body, wrapping around her, the roots, and the entire tree. Wind rushed through the room. Sylzenya couldfeel it brush her skin, her hair flailing with the woman’s as a giant crack ripped through the great willow.

The woman crumpled to the floor. Her face was hollow, cheeks sunken into her bones and eyes bulging from her skull. Blood pooled around her as Distrathrus’ shadow covered her.

Sylzenya’s stomach revolted against her, but she kept it down, staring into the dead eyes of the Kreena.

Aretta finally spoke, “My brother had finally disconnected me from my creation, using my own people to destroy the roots connecting my current prison to the willow in the altar room. I’d tried many times prior with different Kreenas and acolytes during the first few centuries of my imprisonment, but after this woman, he’d finally had enough.”

The temple’s altar room suddenly flooded with numerous women dashing in and out of its hall, like ghosts, running on top of each other, using their power to gain a vision from one of Aretta’s birds. Suddenly, the image shifted to different locations in Estea—the gardens, the temple hallways, the healing pool—where Distrathrus met each one of the women with a glass of wine and a vial of his black blood, forcing it into their open cuts.

“No,” Sylzenya whispered, stepping back, Elnok squeezing her tighter.

“This iscruel,” Kharis finally shouted.

Aretta raised her hands, the vision dissipating, returning them to the meadow. “I finally stopped my endeavors a century ago. I was wrong for inflicting such harm on my own creation. Even so, Distrathrus gained more of my power each day, getting closer to his goal of resurrecting his body and taking the land—ourland—as his own.”

The meadow disappeared again, replaced with darkness.

“But then,” Aretta continued, “I had a vision of my own. A foretelling of how to defeat Distrathrus, and it involved three people. First, a Kreena with insurmountable power.”

An outline of a woman erupted with golden light, a great willow rising above her head.

“Second, a prince who ran away from his crown.” The next outline carved into the darkness, this one of a man holding a crown, throwing it into the shadows and running towards the woman.

“And third, a Dynami who fell in love with a king.” The third outline was a man in armor, reaching out his hand towards a robed figure with a scepter in his hand.

Sylzenya stared before turning to find Elnok’s brow furrowed, his finger spinning the gold ring on his pinky finger.

“In the vision, it was clear only these three could defeat my brother.” Aretta continued, “And so, I stayed connected to the roots throughout the continent for an entire century—watching carefully. Low and behold, it was my brother’s desperation that started it all. Elnok’s parents began to stop shipping Vutrorian weaponry. They took away the only instrument capable of extracting orodyte serum for my brother’s resurrection. In his inability to negotiate politically, he issued the assassination of Elnok’s parents. He then sent shipment after shipment of wine, so that the next king, Tosh, would stay under his control and never limit their trade again.”

Sylzenya watched as Elnok spun his ring faster and faster, her insides twisting as if she was the ring spinning around on his finger.

“It was the king’s crazed state governed by the wine that drove Elnok away from his crown. And it was because Distrathrus sent more Dynameis to Vutror for trade that Kharis met King Tosh, the king’s anguish over what he’d done to his younger brother softening Kharis’ heart to the point of intimacy.”

“You don’t know anything about Tosh and I,” Kharis whispered.

Elnok spun his ring even faster; Sylzenya couldn’t stop herself, she held his hand. He didn’t refuse her, only squeezed her hand.

“And then, when Sylzenya met her hands to the earth only a day after Elnok’s escape from the dungeons, I knew. I could feel the way her power surged through the roots, the way her body could hold more power if it was given to her. I knew this was her—the Kreena needed to perfect the triad. And so, when she created her first willow, I pushed more of my power into her hands. I helped her create that first willow, gave her even more power than she had already possessed, and Distrathrus took immediate interest in her. A risk, but my vision foretold his obsession with this Kreena would be pivotal. But, I knew you’d still need more. My blood needed to flow through you; your father’s willingness to carry out the deed on your ceremonial day was the final piece of the puzzle.”

“Youinvolved my parents?” Sylzenya spat. “They’ve been starving in the dungeons because of this.”

“I did what had to be done,” the goddess replied, “Your parents understood well enough when I visited their dreams. They did as they were told: they stopped going to the wine ceremonies, and were able to smuggle a vial of orodyte serum undetected.”

“I thought it was Distrathrus who made a weapon out of me.” Tears welled in her eyes as she clenched her fist. “Notyou.”

Aretta held up her hands. “Before you start blaming prematurely, listen to what I have to say. You three are from my vision, the ones foretold to finally end my brother’s plan. And so, I helped each of you by preparing you and orchestrating a way to find my tree.”

Elnok stepped forward. “I can understand how Kharis and Sylzenya came into this—they worship you. But you had noguarantee I would ever step foot in Estea. I didn’t have a reason until Orym became sick.”

Aretta became silent, picking another flower from the meadow—a red one.

“Sometimes we must do things we aren’t proud of for the greater good.”

Elnok scoffed. “What the fuck are you…”

He paused. Sylzenya’s lungs squeezed.

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