“If only he was here.”
We passed the outer rim of the training grounds where thistles grew wild and sharp… useless for healing, excellent for teaching pain. I remembered scraping my palms on them during my first trial run, bloodied but proud. That was the Gyorian way: bleed first, ask questions later.
I’d once believed in that.
Now I carried a stolen relic in my belt and couldn’t stop thinking about an Aetherian who made me forget the rules I’d been raised on.
“You could?—”
“No.”
It was becoming a tired argument.
Dren stopped walking. Sighing loud enough for my father clear across the palace to hear, I did the same.
“Pride will be a useless defense when he discovers it missing.”
“Pride? I have no notion?—”
“Aye.” Dren cut me off as if he were the Prince of Gyoria and I was his right hand. “You do. After raging against your brother for months, you refuse to admit his actions may have held some merit.”
I hated how well he knew me.
“She lied to me,” I said, not for the first time.
“Aye,” Dren agreed. “But perhaps the Stone serves a dual purpose.”
Whether he meant it could both restore balance and open the Gate, or something else, it mattered naught.
“I will confront him,” I said, more determined than ever. For answers. For clarity.
“And I will give you his response, if you wish to hear it. His rants have become predictable as of late.”
“As have yours,” I said, considering tossing Dren into the thistles.
We both froze then, the ground rumbling under our feet.
I knelt down, closed my eyes, and connected to its source. Sighing, my worst fears confirmed, I stood.
Dren’s brows raised in question.
“He’s discovered it missing.”
“Are you certain?”
“His energy is unmistakable,” I said. “Sharp. Furious. Like when he shattered the basalt pillars after the treaty was signed.”
“What will you do?”
I stood. Resigned.
“Speak to him. Father has gone unchecked for too long. His lies were the tipping point.”
At least, that was the plan. I was no coward, to run as my brother had. Neither was I a traitor to Gyoria.
Kael is neither.
Attempting to reconcile my brother’s actions had taken a toll. One that appeared to pale in comparison to what was about to be a confrontation for the ages.
