Hungry Heart - Book #4 - Ch. 19 (Patreon)
Content
Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen / Chapter Fourteen / Chapter Fifteen / Chapter Sixteen / Chapter Seventeen / Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen – Uprooted
For a moment, everything stood still. If he hadn’t known any better, Duril would have thought that even the inevitable passage of time had stopped after the obliteration of the heart of the forest at Lakan’s hands.
The young white tiger no longer looked like himself. His hands raised to high heavens, his eyes burning in his head, he looked as if anger itself had taken shape and lived like anyone else. There was nothing he understood more than the grief that must have wrapped itself around the youthful heart, snuffing out the good to make room for the bad.
Toru was the first to react. He threw himself at his brother, pushing him to the ground and holding him with his shoulders pinned to the ground. “Who are you? Where is Lakan?” he yelled.
They all gathered around them, not knowing whether to stop Toru or force the truth out of Lakan, who could just as well be someone else.
The golden eyes flashed at them, but it didn’t appear that whoever it was had the strength to push Toru away. “The prophecy lives through me,” he said in a somber, unrecognizable voice.
“You,” Toru hissed, and his eyes narrowed. “What did you do to my brother? Where is he? If you killed him, I swear--”
“I am him, and he is me,” Lakan replied. Duril couldn’t give him any other name because he didn’t understand what was going on.
“You just couldn’t die, you ugly lizard,” Toru said through his teeth and shook the other.
“Drahlung? He is Drahlung?” Claw asked, expressing the same astonishment Duril felt.
“Give Lakan back to me!” Toru continued to shake the creature that had to be in his brother’s stead now.
“He is yours, just as you decided,” Drahlung replied calmly. “And as much as you may fail to understand, he is also here. Since he is weakened by trying to fight me all through the night, I found it appropriate to take over.”
“Why did you destroy the heart of the forest? Aren’t you sworn to protect it?” Duril asked. “You’re its guardian.”
“What forest?” Drahlung asked and smiled cruelly.
They must have all felt the same gust of wind because they turned at the same time. Groaning and jolting from their ancient roots, the trees all around them had somehow started to uproot themselves.
***
It was just as the prophecy had foretold, Toru realized, and more confusion than anger flooded him. He grabbed Lakan, no, that was Drahlung, by the shoulders and forced him to his feet. “What’s the meaning of this? Ask them to go back.”
The sound of so many trees uprooting themselves at the same time was so loud that he had to shout to make sure his voice was heard.
“I will not ask anything of them,” Drahlung replied firmly. “As their guardian, I will decide their fate. And their fate can’t be other than what the prophecy established for them.”
“You’re a wicked, twisted soul,” Toru accused. “I must destroy you once and for all.”
“Are you sure you want to do so? Lakan still lives in this body, as much as he is trying to fight me. I have to admit that I was astonished to see a weak blood like him capable of so much resistance. But that makes it all the more rewarding to know that I’m not inhabiting the body of a weakling.”
“Get out of him. Let him be, or I will make you,” Toru threatened.
It was unnerving to look into the face of someone he knew and loved and remind himself at every moment that it was the enemy he was staring in the eye, not his brother. And if Lakan was still there, still alive, there was hope for saving him.
The forest around them continued its movement, implacable and portending dark deeds. What would the trees do, now that they had left the ground behind? Would they be manipulated into becoming a plagued breed, like the Vrannes during the war fought by Varg and Duril?
“This place doesn’t exist without the Niverborg forest,” Drahlung explained in the same even voice, as if he wasn’t speaking about the destruction of a home for many generations of white tigers.
“Why would you want to destroy it?” Toru asked. “You’re not getting out of this. I will find a way to save my brother from you and have the trees return to their places.”
Only then he noticed that his friends had already thought of ways to help. Claw and Varg were inspecting the remains of the old trunk. That and Elpis’ ice statue were still in place, seemingly not following the example of all the trees around. With the uprooting of the forest, creatures of all kinds, from birds to four-legged animals, had started wailing, distressed by the sudden transformation of their home.
Duril hadn’t followed the others, and he stood with his arm stretched out, as if to arrest the trees in their movement, lost in a world of his own. As a speaker to the trees, he was probably trying to convince them that they should go back to where they belonged.
***
Why wasn’t it working? Duril thought in dismay, as he focused all his heart and attention on the symbol on the back of his hand, the one that allowed him to communicate with trees everywhere. As he remembered well, the forest here appeared to be sullen compared to its counterparts everywhere else, but that didn’t mean that he shouldn’t try.
However, as soon as he tried touching one of the trees in passing, it just jolted out of the way, so Duril found that his gift was useless under the circumstances. He was about to voice his frustration when he remembered the gift offered to him by Shearah and gave up on trying to touch the passing trunks, moving in unison like an army on a march.
Instead, he searched for the mark of the flower on his chest and touched it gently with his fingers. Spirits of the wind, can you hear me?
First, there was nothing. He even closed his eyes to focus on whatever answer the wind cared to offer him. Then, slowly, a small hiss reached his ears, and a voice rose from it. Speaker, what do you want to know?
How can we stop the forest from uprooting itself?
You must destroy the turned guardian.
The turned guardian? You mean… Drahlung?
Yes. It is by his power that this forest lost its heart. Now the trees are looking for another soul.
We cannot destroy Drahlung. It lives inside Lakan’s body. We cannot kill him.
Speaker, you asked for our advice. This is the only reply we can give you.
It wasn’t possible. If they did that, they would destroy Toru’s heart in the process, and that was no option. Duril focused, bent on understanding what else he could ask the wind spirits. There had to be something else they could help him with.
Is there another soul the trees can find? Where is that soul?
They might walk to the end of the world without finding it. That soul needs to search for them. Drahlung, as the guardian of this forest, knows it well.
What does such a soul look like? What does it want? Duril continued his questions, wanting nothing else but to discover how to save the forest, Lakan, and Toru’s heart from suffering.
The soul must love the forest.
Duril turned slowly and took in Elpis’ frozen statue. Elpis loved the forest. She had laid with a tigershifter to make a ruler for the place, just so that it wouldn’t die. But she was trapped in that prison of ice, as good as dead.
He rushed to where Toru was holding Drahlung, squeezing his shoulders and trying to make sense of what the guardian wanted to give Lakan back. “The power is no longer his,” he said.
They all turned toward him. “The trees will return to their places when a new soul will want them. Isn’t that so, Drahlung?”
Lakan’s strange eyes stared at him, or better said, the creature did who looked through them as if through the windows of a house. How painful it had to be for Toru to know that his brother was there, imprisoned, without the possibility of speaking. Drahlung had mentioned how Lakan had tired himself out by fighting against him all night. That didn’t mean that his powers were sapped forever. Maybe Drahlung didn’t have the luxury of squandering time, and he just wanted to make the prophecy come true, with no regards for the consequences.
Duril moved closer to Elpis and put his hand on her shoulder. “Why did you destroy the heart of the forest?” he asked.
The golden eyes were shrewd and wise as they examined him. That was a powerful, dangerous combination and Duril knew it well. Did he truly have what he needed to play a mythical creature and hope to win in a game of wits? It was their only hope, as he saw it, and he couldn’t stand the pain he saw in Toru’s eyes at the possible loss of his brother, despite everything he had done to save him.
“You already know the answer, oros,” Drahlung said and his eyes glinted with malice.
“How do you know that word?” Duril questioned. “Only the Silverlight called me that, and they exist so far away from here that I can’t imagine that you have ever known them.”
“I know many things, just as I know that this forest must perish. The order of things was disturbed when Toru made his choice. Order lives through me. Without it, there would be nothing but chaos.”
“I am more than just an oros,” Duril said as he caressed Elpis’ frozen shoulder in sympathy. “I don’t talk only to the trees.”
“I thought you’d be more modest. But I can see that you are prey to dark ambitions just like any other,” Drahlung said.
Varg, Claw, and Toru observed their exchange without saying a word or even drawing as little as a breath. They all trusted him to disentangle this mess of things created by a guardian as old as time that appeared to be a lot more than appearances let on.
“I am just telling the truth. I can speak to the wind, too,” Duril said simply. “Shearah, in her kindness, bestowed that gift upon me.”
A flash of uncertainty lit in the golden eyes, only to die quickly. That was as good a confirmation as any, and Duril would work with the smallest seeds of hope right now.
“Well, what does the wind tell you? I can see it carries all of these trees further and further. It appears that it’s more my accomplice than yours.”
Duril allowed himself a small, knowing smile. “You might not know the wind that well. There are spirits of the wind, more than one, and each of them enjoys their freedom. The spirits here told me that we should kill you and find another soul for the forest.”
Toru let out a small gasp at those words, but Duril continued to hold Drahlung’s eyes. “So, it appears that you have guessed it. Lakan can save the forest, as he is part of it. Too bad I live inside him now. I won’t allow him to turn into a new heart for the forest. As you can see, all your knowledge amounts to nothing, oros.” The guardian threw that title at Duril with undisguised disdain, as if it meant nothing that he, a half-orc, could talk to the trees.
“I wasn’t thinking of Lakan,” Duril said and placed his hand more firmly on Elpis’ shoulder.
“What, her?” Drahlung exclaimed.
Duril felt the ice beneath his fingers. Unlike any other, it didn’t melt under the heat of his skin. That had given him the idea, along with what the spirits of the wind had told him. “Yes, Elpis. I think she’s far from dead. I think that, if I start talking to her, explaining how her son and her beloved forest are now in danger, she will wake up.”
“That is nonsense. This low-ranked fae is nothing.” He said those words from the tips of his lips, as if he could hardly be bothered to even consider such a possibility.
“I don’t think it is. You shouldn’t underestimate Elpis. She went against her mother and the order you so hold dear and created a savior for this place.”
“A savior? That son of hers? Split between two worlds, belonging to none?” Drahlung’s voice was getting higher, and there it was again, that thread of doubt, which meant that Duril’s shaky strategy was beginning to work.
“Yes. And it worked until Toru came here. You can’t say it isn’t true. Niverborg should have stop existing for a long time now otherwise. Elpis,” he said and turned his head toward the statue, “I know that you can hear me. Your beloved son, Lakan, needs you. And so does the forest you’ve always loved so much.”
“Stop it,” Drahlung warned. “Stop it right now!”
Duril acted as if deaf to those words. Varg, Claw, and Toru joined him, and they all started taking turns talking to remind Elpis of all the love she had to give as a fae of the forest of Niverborg.
Drahlung roared all of a sudden. They barely had the time to move out of the way, and Duril prayed that his plan wasn’t, after all, bound to fail. Fire blew over their bodies, singeing their hair, and all he could see above was a golden flame.
He watched as Elpis’ statue, as made of ice as it was, caught on fire. Duril felt his heart leaping into his throat. What if he was wrong, after all?
Under their very eyes, the fire abated, and the statue moved, losing its shades of blue and white. Elpis’ hair grew green and tumbled in waves down to the ground, and she looked different from what they had known her to be before. Her body was made of moss, but she still had the shape of a woman. Her large eyes blinked and she looked around, probably not understanding the situation.
“Lakan,” she whispered and opened her arms wide.
Drahlung took a step back, wide-eyed and frightened. Toru pushed him right into Elpis’ open arms.
Duril didn’t know how Toru had known just what to do, but it was the same as with his gifts granted to him by Lady Amethyst and Shearah. He had no idea how they worked; they were like the workings of a heart, not prone to explanations of any kind.
Elpis’ arms turned into vines and coiled around Drahlung, as she rested her head against his chest, as she clearly mistook him for her son.
Drahlung bellowed and threw his head back. Fire burst out of his mouth, and in those flames, Duril was astonished to see small flakes of something black. Was it soot? What could be burning black like that?
He didn’t have time to say a word, because Toru swept his arm through that open fire and all those tiny flakes gathered around his hand.
Drahlung’s power waned suddenly and he lay limp in Elpis’ arms. Toru held his hand open, for all of them to see the black shard that lay there.
***
It burned in his palm, but he didn’t waver for a moment. The moment he had seen Drahlung spitting fire like it was the last thing he could still do in this life, he had felt drawn to the flame. A power superior to his had guided his arm through the open blaze, and now he was holding another shard like the one in his shoulder.
He closed his palm over it, and his arm shook violently. Something climbed up his arm, like a colony of ants, and the pain settled in his shoulder. He grabbed it with his other hand and knelt under the intensity of the hurt he felt.
Duril hurried to his side. “Toru,” he called out to him, “Toru, can you hear me?”
Toru offered his lover a wan smile. “You don’t have to yell, Duril. And look, the trees.”
Sounds of relief and awe emerged from their chests as they took in the formidable spectacle in front of them. Slowly, the trees were marching back, and their roots dug deep into the ground, only then becoming as motionless as before.
The pain was already fading, and, in its stead, more power rose. Toru stood and took Duril’s hand. His eyes fell on Lakan, his body now probably deserted by Drahlung. That must have been the creature’s last breath, but did he really know that the wicked monster hadn’t taken Lakan with him? Together with Duril, they rushed to him.
Elpis’ large eyes turned toward them. “He is just sleeping,” she said gently. “I don’t understand what happened.”
Toru put one hand on Lakan’s forehead. It was warm, but not hot enough to seem unusual. He could only hope that his brother was back to his normal self. So, he did the only thing that crossed his mind. He shook him. “Lakan,” he called out loudly.
The white tiger’s eyelids fluttered and finally, he opened his eyes. They were clear and blue, like before. “Toru,” he said tentatively. “What’s going on? I feel as if I’ve been in a long slumber.” He slowly moved his eyes around and then he saw Elpis. “Mother? Is that truly you?”
“It is I,” Elpis replied and cradled him gently in her arms, now returned to their usual shape.
Lakan seemed embarrassed as his mother let go of him. He touched his head and frowned in confusion. “Was it a dream, or did Drahlung live inside me and make the forest uproot itself?”
“It wasn’t a dream,” Toru assured him. “That nasty lizard tried to steal your body and force that prophecy to come true. I’m sure he’s the one who wrote that book, and put our father’s name on it only so that we would believe those lies.”
Lakan nodded, but he still appeared confused, which was understandable, given what he had just been through. “And the forest… how come it’s the way I know it?”
“That must be your mother’s doing,” Varg intervened, and Claw agreed loudly. “Duril here was quick to think on his feet, as he realized that the forest needed to find another soul, after Drahlung destroyed the older one.”
“It was not my thinking,” Duril said with modesty and casting his eyes down. “I used Shearah’s gift and asked the spirits of the wind. They told me the forest needed another soul. I thought Elpis would be the one.”
“Me? But--” Elpis wondered out loud, and only then her eyes fell on the destroyed trunk. She hurried to it and knelt by its side. “What--” she asked in confusion, incapable of finding her words.
“I’m afraid Drahlung chose to destroy the old heart of the forest for the sake of his twisted plans,” Claw said and knelt by her side to comfort her.
Elpis nodded quietly and buried her face in her palms briefly.
“Don’t cry again,” Toru warned her. “Duril says the last time you did, you turned into a statue, and Lakan won’t like it if you do it again.”
Despite the situation, Duril had to hide a smile. He could tell Varg and Claw were doing the same. Maybe he wasn’t very careful with Elpis’ feelings, but it looked like only the fire made by Drahlung had been strong enough to melt that kind of ice, and he believed that Drahlung no longer existed on the face of Niverborg or anywhere in the entire world for that matter.
The new shard burned in his shoulder, but it was the kind of heat he could stand.
***
Varg sat by Elpis’ side, while the others took their places around. “It seems to me that you are the new heart of the forest,” he said gently.
Elpis nodded, while her hands still caressed the charred wood. “I’m just a simple fae. I don’t see how I can be, but in my soul, I feel that it’s true.” She turned her attention to Duril. “You saved the forest.” And then, she turned to Toru. “And you, Toru. And all your friends, too. And my son.”
Lakan seemed embarrassed. “It appears that all I can do is be saved.”
Elpis shook her head and smiled a sad smile. “That is not true. I believe Drahlung wanted to exact his revenge as quickly as possible, but you stood in the way. He wasn’t in charge of you as much as he wanted to be.”
“I do remember fighting him fiercely in my dreams. Maybe I’m meant to be a dream warrior,” Lakan joked. “How fitting is that for the ruler of Niverborg?”
“Fitting or not, that is you, brother,” Toru said and slapped Lakan’s shoulder, making him grunt in jest. “As much as I like your castle now, since there’s enough food, I don’t see myself all that willing to spend all my time in this land of ice and snow.”
“Is that your way of saying that you want to leave?” Lakan said and leaned in to stare Toru in the eye.
Varg observed the exchange with joy. They were so similar in some respects, the brothers. Maybe Toru sometimes joked without meaning to, and Lakan was a bit wittier, but they both had a penchant for being slightly silly at times, for the entertainment of those around.
“And I thought you wanted me gone or something,” Toru exclaimed, opening his arms wide.
Lakan took that as an invitation and hugged his brother. “Thank you for making so much wrong right again, Toru.”
“Hey, no need to thank me. I came here along with my friends so that I could ask you, or whoever we would find here, about how to get to Nelsikkar.”
“What’s waiting for you there?” Lakan asked.
Toru remained silent, his handsome face scrunched up in thought. Varg understood the dilemma quite well. For a drifter like Toru, the mere notion of home had to feel like an unworn coat. “We don’t know,” he said. “But it’s where Toru comes from, and also where his mother was born and lived.”
At the mention of a mother, Lakan nodded solemnly. He turned toward his own and offered his hand. “Mother,” he said fondly, “let’s head back to the castle. You must be tired.”
Elpis shook her head and remained kneeling by the side of the destroyed old trunk. “I cannot go back with you, my son,” she said gently. “You are safe now, and my duty to you is over.”
“Duty?” Lakan frowned. “But mother--”
Varg felt compelled to intervene again. “I am sure that Elpis loves you just the same. And now she must pay her dues to another she loved.”
The young white tiger appeared to understand. In what seemed to be part of his reserved nature, he nodded shortly. “I see,” he said. “Can I come see you again?” he asked, and the affection he carried toward his mother shone through his voice.
“I will not be the same,” Elpis replied. “But you, of everyone in Niverborg, will be able to talk to me. As now you know the ancient language better than I could ever teach you.”
“But wasn’t it Drahlung who knew it?” Lakan started.
“Yes. You don’t know it because of him, but because something opened inside you the moment he attempted to take you over. You are a part of this forest, just as you are a part of me, Lakan. And a white tiger, and the rightful ruler of Niverborg.”
She got to her feet and came to capture his face between her palms. The look she gave him was one filled with love and tenderness. “I’m proud of you. Anyone else but you would have been devoured by Drahlung. You are worthy, my son.”
A short hug followed. Varg watched over his shoulder as Elpis stepped inside the remains of the old trunk and curled around herself like a child in their mother’s womb.
***
Under the golden skin, the two black shards glowed faintly. Duril remembered quite distinctly the way they looked before, how they had seemed to be nothing but bottomless dark pits, with no ability to reflect light. What he feared right now, as he caressed Toru’s shoulder slowly, was that their glow was something they stole from the young tigershifter.
They were alone in their quarters and Toru lay on one side, stretched out lazily and enjoying his caresses. Duril enjoyed such moments, when his lover could lie like that, without a care in the world, and let himself be loved and admired. As much as he wanted to wrap himself in Toru’s arms and let themselves fall prey to the passion they shared, he couldn’t bring himself to let go.
There were two shards embedded in Toru’s shoulder now. Two, and each time, they had been related to something bad happening. The first time, the lady of the marshes had tried to steal the moon from the sky and had almost succeeded. And now, Drahlung had tried to destroy Niverborg for good. A turned guardian, the spirits of the wind had called him, and maybe the reason for his turning had been this, the presence of that black shard inside his soul.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked.
Toru opened only one eye. “It didn’t hurt that badly the first time. You don’t have to worry.”
“How can I not? I saw you kneeling, overwhelmed by pain.”
“It was only for a moment,” Toru protested and pushed himself up.
Duril watched him as he began pacing the floor. “Drahlung must have been possessed by the shard. I don’t understand how that might have happened.”
Toru continued his pacing. “I do. Because I can feel a power inside me that does and doesn’t belong to me at the same time.”
“Whatever it is, you can control it,” Duril hurried to assure him. “There’s no one more powerful than you in the whole world.”
At that, Toru offered him a sheepish smile. It was like the boastful youngster was gone whenever he was offered genuine praise. Duril stood and came to his side. He ran his hand through the golden hair and looked Toru in the eyes. “Just let me know if the burden ever becomes too much. You know that I will do everything in my power to help you, and even more.”
Toru said nothing but kissed him deeply. “With all the fighting and such, we haven’t had the time to love each other as we should,” he declared.
Duril would have liked to talk about the shards and their meaning for a little more, but it seemed that Toru had other things in mind. As his mouth was taken once more, he let his mind drift away from worries.
***
There was more than a need to hold Duril’s warm body in his arms. The presence of the black shards inside his shoulder was a good enough reason for worry, but he couldn’t easily find the words to explain to his lover why he knew he shouldn’t let his mind be plagued by such concerns. The shards came from evil, he was sure of it; nonetheless, they appeared to lend their power to him obediently.
Even so, Toru wouldn’t give up on his plan to reach the hermit and make him remove the shards. He had no use for that power, as he had plenty of it himself. Although, a small voice told him, when he needed wings to defeat Drahlung, that hadn’t happened because of his inner power. The shard alone at the time must have felt the call of the other and had fought side by side with Toru so that it could get its sibling close.
As inanimate objects as they seemed, the shards were also alive. That was something Toru couldn’t explain, either. And he didn’t want to make his friends and lovers worry. If it was a burden to bear, it was his alone, and they would be his companions to make his life happy and wonderful.
He took Duril’s mouth, over and over, and let those thoughts move away from him like a tide retreating from the shore. With such people by his side, he would never fear.
Duril pulled him toward the window, and they both looked up at the serene moon watching over the vast expanse of white. “You are a true hero,” Duril said softly. “Not so long ago, you saved the moon.”
Toru nodded and took in the beautiful celestial body, round and full. From somewhere, a wolf howled. “I bet Varg can’t sleep either,” he said and snickered like a naughty kid.
“With a moon like this up in the sky? I would think not,” Duril confirmed.
Toru knew just the thing they could do to escape that melancholy that seem to be reaching for them with soft tendrils. “Are you sleepy?”
“Not at all,” Duril replied. “It was quite the day.”
“Then how about we go outside and enjoy this beautiful moon and the snow?” Toru suggested. “And have Varg and Claw join us.”
“Something tells me that they would be more than glad to do so.”
Toru leaned out of the window to take in the sky. It seemed like not one cloud was in sight. It was the best time to go for a run in the snow.
Duril patted him on the back. “Let’s enjoy the cold for a bit then.”
“I like this cold, although I don’t usually like being cold,” Toru pointed out.
Duril offered him a fond smile. “Then it must be because a part of you belongs here.”
That had to be it. A feeling of belonging overwhelmed his heart as Duril grabbed his hand and they both walked out of the room to get their friends.
TBC