Chapter 13 | Corym

Chapter 13

Corym

I BARGED INTO THE CORRAL late at night. My thoughts had been swirling too much lately, and it was time.

I knew Ravinica was angry at me for going back on my word, not allowing her to leave our camp, but it couldn't be helped. Her presence had suddenly become a necessity for my people. If she truly knew where the Ancient One resided, she could cut down on days or weeks of searching.

Over the past week—three now that Ravinica had been here—things had become tense. There was no outlying threat on the horizon, yet still I felt the walls closing in.

It was Logaithn's words that unnerved me. He was our lead scout, often hunting in the eastern grounds where Vikingrune Academy was located. Bringing back boars and deer to eat was simply a diversion from his true purpose out in Delf'avernin Forest.

Most recently, two days ago, he came back and told me the academy had locked its gates for the first time in years. Of course he couldn't penetrate their walls to see what was going on inside, but the outward appearance of a locked-down academy was a worrying development.

It meant we were running out of time—that we may be overstaying our welcome in Midgard.

It should have come as no surprise. Killing academy soldiers and thinking we'd get away with it without repercussions was foolish.

Perhaps Ravinica had simply been distracting me too long. Deitryce certainly thought so.

If I was to lead this vanguard unit, I had to do it wisely. I could not sacrifice lives for my own desires. I had vowed in Alfheim to watch over our people, keep them safe, and bring them home once our mission was complete.

Meeting the silver-streaked powerhouse that was Ravinica had . . . complicated matters.

Now, it was time to throw foolish notions aside. Daydreams would never become reality because of our differing circumstances. I hadn't trained with Ravinica over the past week, in either combat or runeshaping, so I knew I was losing her anyway.

It was time for us to go our separate ways.

When I stormed into the corral where she slept, she jolted awake out of a dazed slumber. She smudged her eyes with her knuckles and stared into the darkness of the doorway where I stood.

"Corym? Is that you?" she asked, body rigid. Her hair glimmered in the soft moonlight bathing her bed through a side window.

"It is time, lunis'ai ."

"Time for what?"

"Time for you to take me to the Ancient One. It is time for you to return to your people."

Perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight, the darkness, but I could have sworn her shoulders slumped when I said that last part.

Owls hooted softly nearby. Birds and nightcritters made little sounds as Ravinica led me through Delf'avernin. The trees were thick here, giving my encampment as much cover as we could muster.

We trudged for hours through the dense forest, walking side by side, heading west and eventually cutting north. The leaves, twigs, and grass at my feet gradually became sludgy and muddy.

The trees gave way to knolls and spindly willow trees. The path forward became less obvious, hidden by the rising swamp around us.

"Not far now," she said. It was the first words from her in nearly an hour—short and clipped. It raised my pulse. When she glanced over her shoulder, she asked, "Why now, Corym? Starting to feel bad about what you've done?"

"All I've done is protect my people, lunis'ai ."

"Ah." She eyed the ground to see where she stepped in the darkness. "You're annoyed and finished with me, then. I have one more use for you to exploit, and then you'll spit me out."

A knot formed in my belly. I couldn't explain the resistance and pain I felt hearing her say that. Putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her, I said, "Never that, Ravinica. I hope you do not believe me to be a monster."

The softness of her face in the moonlight belied the toughness inside her. Her yellow eyes, so much like my own, shimmered like the sun and closed. When they opened, she said, "I don't know what to think anymore. I was just starting to get to know you, but now I feel I don't know you at all."

A small twinge of hope shone inside me. I tilted her chin with my thumb, bringing our eyes together again. "Perhaps I can remedy that."

Our lips were close, hers full and soft. She stared at me with a mixture of confusion and wonder.

I pulled away, clearing my throat, and continued to walk us down the ragged path through the swamp's fringes. "Ask your questions," I said. "I'll see what I can answer."

She said, "What is Alfheim like?"

It was a surprising start.

Slowing my march, I said, "It is a beautiful realm. Blooming with nature and magic. Not yet tainted by the technology and culture of this one."

That brought a smile to her wondrous face. "Is it more war-torn than Midgard?"

"We have our fair share of conflicts." My head bobbed left to right. "There is no realm I know of that does not, lunis'ai. Your wars may be more frequent, but ours are longer lasting. The Ljosalfar and the Dokkalfar had been waging war against each other for hundreds of years, with no end in sight. Occasionally, there will be a truce. But they are short-lived, in the grand scheme."

She let out a hum. "I would love to visit."

I froze, eyeing her. "You would? Even after what I've just told you?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, as if the fear of war against Dokkalfar did not concern her. It was a blissfully na?ve notion, thinking she could understand the dark elves when she had never met them nor integrated herself in our conflict.

"I am half elven, am I not? Which means my father, who I've never met, must be an elf. I would like to see where they come from, how they live. Maybe I'd even find him." She chuckled at the end, evidently charmed by the ridiculousness of her statement.

Alfheim was not as large as Midgard, but it was certainly vast enough that she wouldn't just stumble upon her father in the local tree-tavern of my home village. There were millions of people living in the elven realm.

"It is a fine thought," I said, continuing forward when she started walking through the swamp again. "However, just because elven blood runs through you, and your ears are tapered, does not mean you are half elf. Just to be clear, Ravinica. Your elven bloodline may come from a man or woman further down the line in your history."

Her brow furrowed. "Really?"

"Aye. I'm only saying that so you don't get your hopes up. Until you know precisely where you come from, it's impossible to pin down your blood relatives."

"I've done research into them on my mother's side. A sad study in tragedy. My family name has been tormented for generations—a thousand years back, all the way to the time of Dannon and Talasin."

"I am sorry to hear it."

She abruptly shifted topics. "What do you do in Alfheim, Corym? What is your . . . vocation?"

I pursed my lips, clicking my tongue. A willow tree was in our way on the path, so we had to duck under the draping branches. I held her hand as I led her through the ankle-high mud-path.

"In Alfheim, I lead military excursions such as this one. I am also a torar'tis. A . . . tutor? The translation is close."

Her silver brow jumped. "You're a teacher ?"

"Is it that surprising?"

She smiled and looked at me with a strange glint in her eyes, like she was seeing me in a new light. It made my heart thump to see her smiling at me again, for the first time in days.

I could linger on that smile for years, and I figured I would once we parted ways after this meeting with the Ancient One.

"Are teachers respected in your realm?" she asked. "We have trouble giving them what they're worth here."

It was a bit cryptic, and I didn't immediately answer. Instead, I studied her beautiful face, the clear enthusiasm she felt when she was drawn into a topic that intrigued her.

The draw I felt toward Ravinica Lindeen was almost unnatural in its strength. The fact her Shaping powers had come to fruition in my presence only gave me hope—likely false hope—that there was an importance to us meeting each other.

"Inherent magic" was a term used to describe a human's ability to draw runes and Shape spells, evidently. Yet, in truth, humans did not have inherent magic. They either had the blood of magical beings passed down through family lineages, or they were enhanced by the powers of the Runesphere—an artifact many humans misrepresented and knew nothing about.

Shifters, for instance, didn't have "inherent" magic. They had other shifter blood in them, which, if you went back far enough, was originally sourced at the Runesphere.

Ravinica was different, though. Elves did have inherent magic. It was where the term came from, though humans would never admit it.

And Ravinica had that blood inside her.

As I had been cycling through my thoughts for days now regarding Ravinica and her purpose, I wondered if there was not something more there, too. If the "draw" I felt toward her was more tangible than I was giving it credit, rather than hastily formed lust I felt for the girl.

I found myself thinking, Could she be the one the prophecies spoke of? Is it even possible—for a girl such as her, so far removed from her roots in Alfheim—to hold that sway and power, without even realizing it?

The prophecies had always been vague by design. The chance of my wandering musings being true was close to zero. Yet, some part of me—

"Shit," Ravinica said, forcing me out of my thoughts. She slowed her walk and turned away from me, off the muddy path. "There it is."

Off to the side, nestled against a hillside, surrounded by timber, gnarled roots, and peat, was a large cave entrance. It would have been easily missed if Ravinica hadn't known to look for it.

She turned to me, eyebrows arching. "Are you ready to discover the answers you seek, Corym? Lady Elayina is in there."

"Are you?"

Her head reeled. "What? I'm not searching for answers."

With a small hum, I nodded. I didn't believe her.

"Besides," she said, waving me forward. "Elayina famously only speaks to one person at a time. So it will only be you she's speaking with. I'll stay out here."

I abruptly took Ravinica's hand, feeling that thrill when our fingers touched. A small gasp escaped her lips, pale cheeks reddening.

With a small smile, I said, "I think the Ancient One will make an exception for you, lunis'ai. Come on. I'm not leaving you out here in the cold."