And he meant it.
Leander wanted to find a way to undo the lie he had whispered into Nevari’s ear all those months ago. It would not be easy, and no doubt Jarryn would cast Leander aside, but he had to do this, he understood that now.
Taskevi nodded thoughtfully. “Nature thrives on balance, and perhaps, in your redemption, a new balance can be found. If you are sincere, I am willing to help guideyou on this journey. But know this: the path will not be smooth and simple, and you must prove yourself through actions, not just words.”
Leander, grateful for the goddess’ words and offer of assistance, grinned. “Thank you, Taskevi. I am ready to embrace the challenges ahead and prove that even the God of Lies can find a place within the pantheon, and I can guide those who would appeal to me to tell their lies without judgement.”
Offering the demigod a small and encouraging smile of her own, Taskevi spoke. “Then let us begin, Leander. The first step is acknowledging the truth within yourself and facing the consequences of your past. Only then can the process of absolution truly take root.”
“I—wait, what?” Leander blinked once, twice, confused. “I do not understand.”
“I said I would guide you, Leander, not hold your hand in mine. This is your path. You must walk it alone.”
Leander stared at the goddess for a moment, though he was not staring in disbelief. He could appreciate what was being said. “I must walk alone?”
Goddess of Nature nodded. “For now, yes. No one else can claim what you seek on your behalf. I was the one to send you here, don’t forget that. And I know best how you may return to us.”
“But you won’t tell me how?”
“I already have.”
Leander scowled. “A version that is not so… enigmatic?” he asked hopefully, though he already knew what the answer would be.
Taskevi smiled again. “I’m afraid not, Leander. I willsay, however, you are to be warned of overstepping your bounds. You are not the God of Lies anymore, and you shouldn’t meddle further in the work of the Nine to damage what little stability there is. If there is to be a war… then it will be so. You are not to interfere.”
Leander blinked, surprised at how clearly Taskevi spoke, and took the warning to heart with a quick nod.
“Now go. The night is young and you have many mortal delights to explore. I will be watching to see this conversation through to fruition.”
Watching as Taskevi turned and made her way through the thick crowd of shoppers, Leander could not help but smile. Properly.
He had a way home. Taskevi was going to help him, even if she wouldn’t tell him exactly what he needed to do, he knew she would be paying attention. Next time he saw her, Leander was confident that it would be so that she could restore his divinity.
A grin still plastered across his face, Leander paid a silver piece for the blue flower, thinking of how it would match Jarryn’s eyes, and folded into the crowd of the Bazaar in search of those mortal delights Taskevi was clearly so keen for him to experience.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You’re quiet tonight,” Jarryn said, after he had been complaining once again… something or other to do with the barbaric laws in Vyrica on slavery. It was something Jarryn did regularly, normally with more people around him. Leander had no idea why he was going on and on with his self-righteous rant when it was only the two of them, sat in a quiet, too blue, room at the back of a tea house.
Leander glanced up from his tea to meet the other’s gaze, suddenly realising how much he had just been nodding along as the prince had been speaking without really adding any meaningful contributions to the conversation.
“Sorry, I was just thinking,” Leander said, looking pensive.
“By the Nine!” Jarryn exclaimed. “Not again!”
Leander managed a weak smile but said nothing more.
Jarryn sighed. “What were you thinking about, then, Leo?”
Leander returned to looking at his tea, which was barely touched and had long since gone cold, finding it easier to share his thoughts with an inanimate object than an actual person. “Nothing. Sorry, I was thinking… it’s nothing.”
He was thinking about his meeting with Taskevi the evening before. About what she wanted him to do, though Leander had no idea what that was. He had been ruminating over the conversation, thinking about it repeatedly, trying to work out the meaning of her cryptic words.
It was futile. He just didn’t know.
“Leander?” the prince prompted softly.
“I was thinking about… life. How fragile it is.”
