Page 81 of Of Blood & Stone

There was a worshiper of Distrathrus among them.

A chill ran up her spine. Centuries ago, there’d been a group of Distrathrus worshippers claiming he’d been the one in the right, not Aretta—that his monsters were innocent and humans were not. Legend said they tried to prove their point by living in the forest alongside its creatures.

They were killed within the hour.

Sylzenya thought back to her vision.

For life there is a price,the bird had said,and only in pain is it made whole. Your choice has been made, and so your consequence is set in blood and stone.

A gold ring turning into blood, filling the orodyte. The bird killed by a thicket of branches. None of it made sense to her.

This price she’d paid, had it already come to pass? It might as well have, because everything changed after she failed the Kreena Rite.

Gripping the compass to her chest, she kneeled to the wood floor. The scent of damp soil filled her lungs. Quickly, she removed a floorboard, revealing a bed of dirt. She and Elnok still hadn’t figured out how they could traverse through Lhaal Forest, their chances of survival slim to none without a divine warrior by their side.

Tilting her head, she listened; the sound of water washing over skin still echoed from the bathing room, which meant Sylzenya had time before Elnok was done.

If she was to do this, she had to do it right now.

She placed the compass on the ground next to her.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The familiar sound silenced her nerves. Hopefully it would help her in their time of need.

Unclipping the orodyte from her necklace, she dug a hollow hole into the dirt underneath the floorboard. Dirt crusted her fingernails as she shoveled the soil back over the stone, placing her warm palms on top of it. Taking a deep breath, she prayed a silent request for her goddess’ blessing.

Help us find your willow, Aretta.

Sylzenya’s fingers ached with a natural pull towards the earth. She obliged, leaning forward, searching for her goddess’ power woven into the soil, the roots, all that bore life.

Thump.

Thump.

A warm tingle met her palms, Sylzenya’s chest brightening at the long-awaited sensation. Golden sparks flickered from the ground, circling her arms in weak spirals. Even still, it felt like a part of herself had woken up. Excitement rushed through her veins as her goddess’ power sliced into her back. It was sharper than she remembered, deeper; a cry spilled from her mouth. But it didn’t matter.

Help us find your willow, she urged, sweat dripping from her brow. Her fingers dug deeper into the dirt as if she’d never let go.

The golden light flickered, the brightness in her chest fluttering away, the pain in her back sharpening.

Please, Sylzenya begged.Please. Help us.

Air, acidic and sweet, shot into her lungs. The inn’s wooden bed frames and stone walls disappeared, replaced by a dark earthen wall. The walls glinted—cavern walls, she realized—with white and yellow specks of light, like stars in the night. But these weren't stars.

They were pieces of orodyte.

The ancient orodyte mines.

“Sylzenya.”

A deep, commanding voice overwhelmed her. The cavern vanished, replaced by the sight of her crimson blood dripping down her arms. Elnok caught her as she collapsed.

“Do you have a death wish?” Elnok asked, clearly exasperated. She hung limp in his arms, her blood now smearing on his freshly cleaned hands.

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