“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” I say. He chuckles.
“But they will serve the warriors. The best among the fighters is awarded one when they pass their training with their first venture into the Gray Trench. Then, they will pilgrimage here and use their spear to mark out where their armor will be cut from, should their merits to the Eversea ever warrant receiving such a boon.”
“No wonder the Faith and Spear duchies have such a close relationship,” I observe.
“We did, before me and Ventris.” Ilryth pauses, staring at the spears. “I sometimes wonder if I’m even worth the Granspell name.”
“You are a good man, Ilryth,” I insist, knowing how he feels all too well. “You have done nothing but help your people.”
He looks away. “Except indulging in you.”
I swallow thickly and step in front of him to catch his eyes. I hold them firmly. “I will be an incredible offering. I swear it to you.” I rest my hand on his chest and he grabs it.
Bringing my fingers to his lips, Ilryth kisses them lightly. Though this time he doesn’t stop at my knuckles. He gives three kisses up my forearm toward my elbow, pulling me a step closer that I take gladly. “You’re biased in how you see me.”
“Maybe so.” I grin slightly. “But do you care if I am?”
He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in me. “I suppose not. Now, come. Let’s pay our respects to the goddess of life.”
We finish trekking across the beach, right up to where the wood of the tree trunk meets the sand.
I am certain that there are mountains smaller than this tree. I am humbled by something that only an old god could create. Much like I saw in Ilryth’s vision, it seems to be multiple trees woven together as one. I imagine Lellia in the center of a circle of trees arching above her, reminiscent of the altars I saw in the Gray Trench. The trees continued to grow around her, keeping her in, like bars of a cage to hold the old goddess in her place, rooting her to this land against her will.
It’s an odd thought, I realize, but the suspicion is compounded by how the vines over the door have turned gray and hard with age and time. Woody ropes that are no doubt stronger than any metal chain from my world. Still, there are five notches in them, one for each vine.
“You said that Krokan and Lellia chose to stay in this world after the Veil was made, right?”
“That is what our stories tell us,” Ilryth says. “Long ago, there were many gods and goddesses that walked this earth, side by side with the living, the dead, and the immortal spirits. When the first Elf King sought to bring order and hierarchy to the young world and its first crop of mortals, the old gods agreed to his plan. They assisted him and then they were the first to traverse the Veil. The path their passing made was the way for our immortal souls to join them in the Beyond. Lady Lellia remained to look after her creations and make more. Lord Krokan stayed as well, to guard his lady love and the passage to the Beyond.”
“I see…” I tilt my head and continue to stare up at the tree. The way the leaves rustle sounds almost like a song—faint and whispering, as though it is trying to tell me a long-forgotten secret.
“You seem skeptical,” Ilryth says. I don’t know if skeptical is the right word for it…but I do have a nagging sense ofsomethingmore.
“I have no reason to doubt your stories,” I say. The last thing I want to do is offend him. “Perhaps the history is just so wondrous, so seemingly impossible, that it is merely hard for me to fathom.” Just laying eyes on the Lifetree begs a reverence to a greater force, one that can be felt but never fully understood.
He smiles faintly. “This is the first time I have come here in a long time.”
I say nothing. As he speaks, he stares up at the leaves above as well. Tiny slivers of silver foliage fall to us with each sway of the tree, like rainfall on a moonlit night.
“I’ve only been here twice before,” he continues. “The first time you saw. It was with my mother, when I was supposed to pledge myself to the Eversea as the Duke of Spears before Lady Lellia. The second time was when I returned alone to actually accomplish that task.” His voice grows soft, eyes sad. “I wish my mother could’ve seen it.”
“I’m sure, in a way, she knew. She could feel when your oath was made.”
“I hope so.” Ilryth grows still. He’s a statue in a breezy world of swirling sand and gently falling leaves. “I thought that if I could put off becoming a duke, I could change her mind. That she would hold on for longer. My selfishness only made more problems. If I hadn’t clung to her as I had, perhaps she would’ve been a successful sacrifice.”
My hand returns to his and he doesn’t pull away. I shift closer. “If you’re right, and it’s a human Lord Krokan desires, then there’s nothing that could have been done for it.”
“Perhaps…”
“Because of your grief, you went into the trench that night. You found me.” I hate to shift the focus onto me, but I feel as if he needs something more to hold onto—to find meaning in.
“A silver lining worthy of Lady Lellia’s light.” He brings his face to mine with a small smile. “If all my misfortune has led me to this moment, if every pain and hardship I endured was to meet you, then it would’ve all been worth it.”
I stare up at him in no small amount of awe. Has anyone ever spoken so kindly of me? I am a balm to his troubles. An explanation that is an ease and comfort. I…I wish I could give him the world and more.
“Come. There’s much more of the holy island of the Lifetree to show you.” He goes to move away but I end up lingering for another moment at the door. I can’t seem to tear myself away. “Victoria.” He tugs lightly on my hand.
“Yes, sorry.” I step backward away from the door. I should leave matters of the gods be, but I can’t help but ask, “Behind that door—”
