Dryad's Touch (Void Waker Book 1)

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Dryad's Touch (Void Waker Book 1) Page 10

by A. W. Graybill


  There was a sing-song sound like a bird call from behind the male dryad. Both the dryad and Fallon looked towards where the other still held Nara. It was the female, her lips moving but not speaking in any way Fallon knew. It was as though the animals of the wild were conversing all at once when the two of them spoke. The female’s hands released Nara, who in turn rushed not to Fallon but to Castien. While the dryads conversed, Fallon lowered his hands, glancing behind him.

  Nara held Castien close to her, checking the wounds on his face and sides. Castien stared ahead with a stony expression. With blood seeping from several cuts he had received, his lip curled at the sight of Fallon. As Nara ran her hands over Castien, a pang of regret entered Fallon’s heart.

  Looking back at the male dryad, Fallon was surprised to see him standing directly in front of him, towering over Fallon by two or three feet. Long and wiry, Fallon was not fooled. This was the king of their forest, and he held a great deal of strength.

  The dryad raised his hand in a fist and brought it down, gently knocking Fallon on the head before gesturing to Nara and Castien, speaking in his language once again. Fallon didn’t understand what the dryad said or what he was doing. But when he smirked, brown and white teeth exposed, Fallon understood exactly what it was he tried to convey.

  What had Fallon just done?

  CRAITH

  Ghedril’s light hung in the sky, large and looming as if to say she was watching all the happenings in Arlania below. When they had set up camp, the air had been still and continued to be still even as the soldiers drank and absorbed themselves in mirth before fires blazing amongst the rolling grasslands and moors of Eanlasair.

  Thus far, they had passed through the land of fire undetected. Craith left his men distracted with drinking and the women that tended to follow the roving military. He thought them expendable no matter how well he treated them, and despite knowing this, the men and women were born into this life and chose to stay.

  Sometimes he wondered at the blind devotion to his father. Perhaps they wanted to side with a stronger god, or perhaps they feared the consequences of leaving.

  The furs and silk covers of Craith’s temporary bed moved. The unnamed woman he’d chosen to spend a night with shifted, soft kisses traveling across his hard back. She was short with dark hair and lightly tanned skin. A descendant of those who had followed Drudan and his siblings from Darso, she was chosen that night for her appearance and anonymity. In the Shadow Kingdom, the women and men he and his siblings chose to bed were deemed god touched and were held in high esteem after returning to their homes. Those who lost their innocence to them and even those who were already wives or husbands to another were revered.

  Irritated, he looked over his shoulder, watching her enticing look while her hands pushed at his large back.

  She would be like the others.

  “You can leave now,” he said passively, staring after her and seeing the offense and hurt arise. Her hands rested on his back feeling the muscles beneath skin, dark eyes taking him in.

  “There is nothing more that I could do for you, My Lord?” she asked, tears already welling up.

  “Leave,” he replied, turning away from her to rest his head against his arms. Through all the movement of her dressing he gave her no more attention. He had seen the pain with rejection in several women. Many hoped to be chosen as part of the godhood for longer than a night or two. Since the time of Elona, it was not something given to another by Thaos or anyone. Nor would Thaos allow his children to grant it to a mortal. If there had been other gods made, Craith did not know.

  Craith sat up. With a blanket of fur draped over his bare lap, he ran his hands over his arms. From behind him, Craith heard the flap of his tent open again. Agitated, he said, “I told you to leave my presence. If you refuse, I will force you out in a most unpleasant way.”

  “I’ve wanted to see you,” came a soft, delicate voice. His heart grew still, back straightening at the familiarity. Snapping his head around, his heavy braid fell away from his shoulder. He stared wide-eyed at the lovely Maida dressed in a simple gown of lavender. Every woman that he had ever taken had some resemblance to her beauty. Small stature, full lips, lightly sun-touched skin, round face of the moon set with brightly shining eyes.

  He was unable to speak or move, wondering how quickly his mother had traveled to them. Or had Maida left behind the sorcerers she oversaw in order to see him? With the news of Thaos and Elona joining forces once again, perhaps she had…

  “Craith,” Maida whispered, moving forward with her hands clasped before her. Quickly he stood, wrapping the blanket around his waist to show her respect.

  “You’ve come to see me?” Craith asked, a hint of emotion entering his voice. Not only could he hear it, but he felt it. Hope, love, and sadness all mingled into one expression. “Why?”

  “I need to forgive in order to move on,” Maida responded, stepping closer to him. “When you held me that day, when Thaos raped me,” she paused, eyes downcast. Her hand touched his bare chest, thin fingers splaying across his skin. “I love you so much. I can finally forgive you.”

  He was not given a chance to speak. On tiptoe she stood, wrapping her lips around his while her arms folded around his neck in a gentle embrace. Shocked, he gradually gave into her kiss, but his hands stayed loose at his sides.

  Warmth spread through him, pain of almost three thousand years surfacing. Long ago when Thaos and Elona were still joined as one, Maida and Craith had been in love. It was nearly an instant feeling when they met. Through the years that he knew her, he had not touched her. He did not even think to approach her regardless of his feelings until she approached him, and they began their courtship. He had given her many walks and gifts as they spoke of plans for binding and children. While she would remain immortal, he would work towards giving her and only her godhood, to plead with Kothes for her sake.

  His father wanted to take those things from him, to make him realize who was in control.

  He could feel her pulling at him, letting the blanket pool around them. Quickly he reacted, remembering her to be chaste.

  Taking her by the shoulders, he eased her away, staring at her in wonder.

  “You do not want me?” she asked, hands running along his belly, across the soft play of hair.

  This wasn’t right, he told himself. Squeezing her arms even harder, a flinch of pain on her face, he became outraged by what he saw. Against the flicker of her eyes, reptilian slits surfaced. Realizing his mistake, he grabbed her by the throat, breaking the illusion to confront his sister.

  “Eusa,” he hissed, tightening his hold. It didn’t matter to her. The harder he squeezed, the happier she appeared. If he hadn’t seen through her illusion, he knew she would have taken it much farther than kissing. Eusa had a sick and depraved humor, something he never wanted to be a part of.

  “I see the raw wounds still, brother,” she croaked, arms hanging freely at her sides. Snarling, he tossed her to the side and reached for his trousers, hastily dressing. “Craith, please,” she laughed, “it was only a joke.”

  “Leave.” His voice was strained, his face hot with anger. “Keep your games away from me.” Eusa moved towards him, her jagged tail waving behind her until she set a strong illusion back in place. Venomous hands touched his shoulders until he grabbed her wrist, squeezing till her fingers went rigid. “I said leave, Eusa.”

  “Do you not want to know why I am really here?” Seduction dripped from her every word, her other hand running the length of her brother’s chest. Knowing what Eusa and Hathus did in their temples and behind closed doors disgusted him, and she knew he, just like Karasim, would take no part in that. It never stopped her from trying.

  She wouldn’t leave him alone unless he heard her proposition.

  Grasping her wrist more tightly, he seethed, “What do you want, Eusa?”

  “I want you to help me, in exchange for helping you,” she purred, meeting Craith’s eyes. “I want to help
bring your beloved Maida to you.” Craith narrowed his eyes. Even though she hated Drudan most, she hated all of Elona’s Chosen. If it meant helping her brother, she would be helping Maida too. Something she had not been keen on in the past.

  “You will torment her,” he spat, tossing her hand to the side and walking away. He stooped to retrieve his tunic some few feet away. Eusa was worse than their father with her lies, double promises, and strings. Whatever she wanted would come at a further price.

  “I will tell you what it is Father has planned,” she tempted. He paused in his movements. “Plus, my side of the deal will cause Drudan so much pain.”

  “I could care less for Drudan.”

  “Liar,” was her immediate response. Looking back at her, he saw her staring at him, lips upturned in a most devious grin. “Drudan came between Mother and Father. Drudan holds more sway in this realm than you, yet he is no god. Drudan led his forces against yours. And it was Drudan that kept you from Maida.” This was all true. While he did not always think of the older Thrason, seeds of hatred festered towards the human.

  Two things were more tempting above Drudan, however: Thaos’s plans and Maida. This was something that Eusa knew and would use to her advantage.

  “I’m listening,” Craith said at last, standing with his top in his fists and his eyes on her. Damn all who got in his way and who would be affected by him acquiring Maida.

  NARA

  The sun had set by the time Nara stood at the edge of Castien’s bed. With one arm crossed over her stomach, she gnawed on the knuckle of her free hand and gazed at Castien. Seated on his bed, his back close to the wall, he stared ahead blankly while the healer passed her hands over his wounds. The healer applied salve to all wounds before she would continue with her healing touch. Not knowing whether or not the dryads had released their toxins, she used both salve and her touch to ensure a healthy recovery. Had the dryads done so, and had he gone untreated, it would have crippled him for some time. Death was doubtful.

  Fallon had helped her carry Castien back to the temple, shouldering one bare, bloodied arm. But he was silent in his departure, his expression as emotionless as Castien’s. Fallon had seen them in a precarious situation, and at the time she had breathed a sigh of relief that he had stopped them from going any further. The sweet temptation they had when they came into contact with one another was overwhelming, urging her to do what she ought not to do. Yet she couldn’t help it in those moments, beneath his hands.

  While she wanted to ask an Elder, she couldn’t. When she discovered she had family, they had broken her trust. She felt abandoned, desiring to know more of what she should have been.

  The healer began her healing light, first applying her hands to his face. Nara knew that there would be scarring. She wondered why the dryads had reacted so negatively towards him. It was a rare occurrence, and never before had it happened around her. When she called them, they would usually focus on her and give only curious glances to the others that accompanied her.

  Castien hissed. His blank expression broke with a wince when the healer touched a deep cut on his right side. Thin fingers prodded the inside of it. Nara wanted to touch him as she had in the woods. The only time that those unique feelings of ecstasy had not overtaken her senses had been when the dryads attacked. Both had been in too much distress to notice.

  “My apologies,” the healer muttered before spreading her light against his side. After healing his face, leaving nothing but faint scarring, the healer applied bandages to his side. While a healer’s abilities were great, it could still be undone unless time was given for rest.

  When she was done, she nodded to both of them. “Should I contact the High Elder?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Castien answered, wincing as he pulled on a borrowed top. “If you’d like, tell him what happened, but I need nothing beyond that. I will get more attention for the wounds on Ghela if need be.”

  The healer paused, looking him over with cautious eyes. Bowing her head, she removed herself from the dimly lit room.

  “I am so very sorry,” Nara whispered quickly, her hand falling away from her mouth to rest on her shoulder. She thought back to when she had rushed to his side, the sensations that had led them to that situation had not been present. At this moment, she didn’t want to test when they would return.

  He raised a hand to her and smiled half-heartedly. “You could not have known what they would do, Nara.” Tilting his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes, deeply inhaling. “Although I wonder if your friend did.”

  Nara shook her head, narrowing her eyes for a brief moment. “Fallon would not have suggested anything that would cause any to come to harm. Of that I am certain. He is a gentle soul.”

  Castien raised his eyebrows but said nothing. His silence made her uncomfortable. She hoped he wasn’t angry with her for defending Fallon. His anger towards Fallon was misplaced. She knew Fallon better than that. Or at least she hoped she did.

  “You know this means you owe me another excursion,” he murmured. A smile erupted, but he had not opened his eyes. “We’ve only three or four days left until Vheday, which is when your age rites occur, correct?” He looked at her at last. His intense gaze made her heart race, and she nodded. “Return to me in a day. We will speak more of your birthright, things those you hold dear should have told you.” Adjusting slightly, he grunted in pain. “In the meantime, I’ll need rest and prayer.”

  “Can I bring you anything,” she asked, stepping towards him. Close enough, she brushed the side of his face with her fingertips, feeling the expected shock. He took her hand into his and kissed her palm. The feeling grew more intense, bubbling beneath her skin. Having more strength than she did at the moment, he shook his head and released her. While she wanted to continue to touch him, to kiss him once again, he meant what he said.

  “If you’d like, pray for me,” he replied, his eyes exploring her face. “Ask for a quick recovery. That way, I will be able to roam the temple before you even see me.” He closed his eyes again, yawning. “For now, you rest as well, and send prayers for yourself. Maybe you will be granted a marking.”

  Nara gave him a curious look but said nothing and watched him fade from the waking world. Slipping down into the comfort of his bed, he turned his back to her. Not only could healing be undone, but when healing, usually a healer’s touch required energy from the one they healed. Larger wounds required much more from both.

  She quietly left, looking forward to another meeting with Castien.

  NYSA

  Stepping down from the hillside that led out of the Golden Dawn Mountains, Nysa wiped her brow. She smiled as she looked out over the plains that stretched from the point past the rocks and evergreens. The mountains, Nysa reflected, were thus named for the golden radiance the great Thena held when she had resided in the Mortal Realm.

  Nysa remembered Thena standing at the top of the mountains, directing people to the valley past them, showing her power with such brilliance and leading the people with light. One of the last things Thena did before ascending had been setting her protection on Thanis and the kingdom. Over the years there had been several border attacks, often shifting kingdoms. But thanks to the legions of Thena’s angels, Thanis and its country Ilystaria had remained untouched.

  Nysa would never have the kind of power Thena and the elder gods had, she thought. Long ago she had settled her allegiance to thieves, bandits, gamblers, and those who thought her lucky. Even now she could hear the prayers of many on Arlania in her head. As she had very few followers, it was difficult for her to understand how the elder gods handled the amount of prayers they did. It was something she never asked her father as she had not considered it relevant to her life.

  Now she left behind the small town she had hidden in the hills. A large group of men and women safely concealed in the mountains followed her faithfully. Though she didn’t command legions like the elder gods, she was content.

  For now.

  Set
ting her rucksack on the ground, her trousers clung to her legs when she crouched and took her cloak off. It would have been easier to instantly travel from one location to another. But there was little point. Not only was it not feasible for her to waste her power on folding through the world, but there was also no other way to discover other people to take under her wing. To become their patron goddess. She would not be able to feel the warmth of Vhedril’s light on her copper skin, to experience all that there was around her, to advance into the unknown.

  Pulling her deep brunette locks back with a piece of leather, she stared outwards. On the horizon, bisected by a river, surrounded by tall grass, and dotted by flowers, was Thanis. The Festival of Light was approaching, honoring Thena’s glory at the beginning of summer. Though she had no reason to honor any god, at the same time she had no disrespect and enjoyed the festivals of many. Traveling through different cities, towns, and villages, she would drink heavily, dance heartily, and take many suitors to bed.

  Boots hit the ground next to where she crouched in the grass. Nysa looked up to see a very familiar presence peering down at her.

  “Hello, Nysa,” Thaos greeted, his smile was as charming as his tone. Bright blue eyes caught the light, making him even more radiant. Such it was for the higher gods, no matter what was hidden in their hearts.

  Still, the edge of a blade was present in his eyes.

  “Thaos.” She nodded, already knowing what his presence meant. He would always show himself to her when he wanted something.

  She retrieved her rucksack and slung it over her shoulder, pushing her intricately carved staff into the ground as she stood. The elder god towered over her by at least two feet, if not more. Sighing and wanting to continue her journey, she impatiently asked, “What can I do for you, Thaos?” Her thick eyebrow rose high.

  “Oh, Nysa, you know it does not work that way,” he responded, his hand brushing across her cheek and down her neck. She had always wanted to bed him. Even now her skin trembled, his fingers resting just above her breast. “Ask what I can do for you.” Knowing he never truly meant what he said and gave partial truths if any truth at all, she narrowed sun-scorched eyes.

 

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