Page 66 of Of Blood & Stone

Her friend embraced her once more. “I love you, Syl. You’re going to get your power back, and everything will be as it once was, alright?”

Nothing’s going to be the same after this.

How is it that her friend said those words yesterday and now sung a different tune? Sylzenya tightened her hold on Nyla, looking to the green willows for answers. A lifeless breeze returned her question.

“I believe he’s still in the temple,” Sylzenya said as she backed away. “Prince Elnok, my apologies, but we’ll do one more stop before we head back to the village.”

“Very well,” he replied, his face stoic.

“May Aretta bless you both,” Nyla said as she bowed, two hands placed over her heart. “Oh, and please, take a plum. They should be far better than yesterday’s.”

They both accepted the gift and walked back through the willow grove. Golden light flew through the air, swirling around Kreenas. Sylzenya’s head ached until they finally left and arrived at the main dirt path leading back to the temple.

“I suppose you were right,” Sylzenya whispered.

Elnok sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“What, no humiliating comeback? No ‘I told you so’?”

“No.”

She turned to him, his face burdened with something terrible and haunting.

“I could see how difficult that was, and yet you did it anyways. Though I know it benefits you to do so, it also helps me and why I’m here. So… thank you.”

Sylzenya rubbed her thumb along the smooth skin of the fruit. “Whyareyou here, Elnok?”

His frown deepened, fingers curling into the plum, the skin pulling and stretching.

“A dear friend of mine is sick,” he said, a quiver in his voice, “Dying, to be precise. The sickness taking over the continent has no cure, but I mean to find one.” He let out a breath. “I can’t let Orym die.”

Sylzenya could hear it in his voice, feel it in his breaths. He was desperate to save his friend, the same way she was desperate to spare her people. Maybe even more so.

“You must really love him.”

“He’s the brother I’d always hoped for.”

Before she could respond, he bit into the plum, and then—he fell to his knees and screamed.

Sylzenya threw her plum to the ground as she rushed to him. He screamed again, deep and cracked. She called his name, but he didn’t respond, as if he couldn’t hear her—as if he was somewhere else entirely.

Just like the wine ceremony.

“Tosh, stop!Please, I swear, just stop!”

“It’s ok,” Sylzenya soothed as she kneeled beside him, the moist soil seeping into her white robe. “Everything’s ok, Elnok, I promise.”

He dry heaved. Sylzenya quickly gathered his thick hair and held it back as he released everything onto the ground. Coughing, he caught himself with his hands, a deep sob rumbling through him.

“It’s ok,” Sylzenya said again, instinctively rubbing his back in gentle circles. It was strangely uneven, but not just from muscle… scars, perhaps. Many of them. “You’re going to be ok. Nothing’s going to hurt you here.” Her heart beat fast as she furrowed her brow. “I promise.”

The way she said it… how much she meant it… it surprised herself.

“Please, please.” He whimpered into the dirt, spit and plum dripping from his mouth. “Make it stop,please.”

His breaths started to even out, so she kept rubbing his back. Slowly, he repositioned and sat down, away from his vomit, leaning into her touch. She moved closer, placing herself in between his legs, combing his hair and stroking his face, the same way her mother did when Sylzenya was frightened during summer storms.

“You’re ok,” she whispered.

---