Lost in a chapter

Eight

Through the veil of blistering air, Sylvain led the way, a stoic figure cutting through Emberfell’s volcanic mist, the heat pressing against his skin like molten silk, suffocating and unrelenting, though Sylvain marched forward as though untouched. The Fayb is here somewhere. If its deal isn’t broken, it’ll haunt us forever, her most of all. He frowned, his thoughts turning to Theanna. I felt her panic before I left Sylvarune. Why does she run? If only she gave me the chance, to listen to what I have to say. Does she not understand I’ll always protect her? He clenched his fists. She doesn’t see it yet, but she will. The bond isn’t something she can simply escape.

Solis followed closely, his thoughts knotted around Theanna and the elusive Fayb. Every step forward felt heavier as doubt and frustration warred within him. She’s out there, somewhere, searching for this cursed creature. Does she think it can free her from us? From me? If the deal is undone, and Sylvain is her true mate, will this pull I feel for her disappear? Will I want it to? The volcanic haze blurred the path ahead of him, an apt reflection of the storm twisting through his mind.

As he glanced downward, the movement of something wriggling against his boot caught his eye. He paused, kneeling to peel away a baby pudin that had unknowingly accompanied him to Emberfell. The pudin squirmed, slick and slimy, clinging stubbornly to him, another unwelcome reminder of Tora’s hold on him. “What are you doing?” he whispered, peeling it off his boots and allowing it to stubbornly attach itself to his tunic. Solis sighed, continuing his journey with the pudin clinging determinedly to him.

Sylvain let out a low chuckle, pulling Solis’s attention. “What’s so amusing, brother?” Solis questioned, puzzled by Sylvain’s lightened mood. “Nothing,” Sylvain replied coolly, his words frosted with disinterest, though his thoughts churned beneath the surface. She’s in my mind even now, her defiance and fire. Does Solis feel this too? Does he sense her as I do? He dismissed the thought immediately. No. She’s my mate, my bond. Whatever he feels, whatever the Fayb has twisted, will end soon.

Solis raised a brow, but Sylvain turned away, his icy resolve shielding him from further scrutiny. The flicker of unease in Sylvain’s demeanour didn’t escape Solis’s notice. He tightened his grip on his sword hilt.

As Emberfell’s eruptions waned under the night’s approach, glowing rivers of lava and radiant hot springs illuminated the landscape. The air shimmered with heat, casting jagged shadows across the scorched terrain as if the molten glow itself watched them. “Let’s rest,” Solis suggested, his military expertise finding agreement in Sylvain’s nod. “Should we look for shelter?” Sylvain asked. Solis gestured toward the large holes they had passed along their trek. “We sleep in these, they house at least three soldiers, we’ll fit with enough space between us. They’re empty, and they’ll hide us while we rest.”

“What creature makes these?” Sylvain queried; his curiosity uncharacteristic. Solis glanced into a pit. “Bollips, similar to our Oax. Harmless, they eat during the day and sleep at night, they’re family orientated so they sleep in tight family groups, sometimes up to fifty together. Don’t worry; they never reuse the same hole. It’s safe,” Solis replied confidently stepping into the hollow. Safe enough, at least. But nothing in cursed land ever feels entirely safe.

Sylvain appeared ready to ask more about other beings within this land but restrained himself, instead following Solis into the hollowed earth. He slipped slightly, landing in the pit with a soft grunt. “Surprisingly spacious,” Sylvain remarked, his voice carrying a faint edge of approval. The silence of the pit pressed against him, a rare moment of respite amid the chaos of the day.

Tossing and turning in the pit, Sylvain quietly asked, “You awake?” The silence pressed against him like the weight of the earth. When Solis finally responded, his voice was laced with exhaustion. “Shh, get some sleep.” “I’m trying,” Sylvain muttered, lying on his back. His eyes drifting shut, but his mind sought another connection. Theanna. Are you awake?

Her voice echoed in his thoughts, sharp and dismissive. “Sylvain, stop.” A faint smile touched his lips, unseen in the darkness. “Goodnight,” he murmured, surprising her into silence. Her lack of response lingered like a soft warmth, bringing a rare flicker of peace amidst the smothering air. He finally relaxed, his back pressing against the heated ground. No matter what you think of me, I’ll keep you safe, Theanna. I’ll be waiting for you once I break the Fayb’s deal.

Solis stirred, his eyes snapping open to find Sylvain missing. He sighed, his instincts telling him that his brother had been summoned back to Sylvarune. Solis remained in place, patient, knowing Sylvain would shadow back to him eventually.

Time is ticking, brother, he thought as he fed the pudin the last scraps of his jerky. The little creature devoured it eagerly, its slimy surface glistening in the volcanic light. Black shadows coiled around him as he stood waiting, the stillness pressing against his skin.

“About time,” Solis muttered when Sylvain reappeared, dressed in fresh clothes and bearing the unmistakable signs of a recent bath. Solis let out a soft, disapproving sound as he brushed past his brother. Sylvain bristled, his tone sharp. “Did you expect me to sort out Sylvarune’s affairs and return filthy?”

Solis didn’t reply, continuing his walk. His head tilted upward, catching a scent in the air. “Can you smell that?” he asked, sniffing again to confirm his suspicion. Sylvain huffed, irritation creeping into his voice. “You’re an idiot.”

Solis halted abruptly, raising a hand to stop Sylvain. “No, not you i***t. It’s the Fayb.” Sylvain hesitated, narrowing his eyes before sniffing the air. Recognition dawned, sharp and immediate. The tension between them sharpened as if the very heat of Emberfell coiled tighter.

“It is,” Sylvain murmured. Finally. He knows we’re here. His gaze darted into the shadows, searching.

Solis’s jaw tightened, his thoughts calculating their next move. “Then let’s lure him out, now,” Sylvain said, his tone commanding and resolute. Solis glanced at his brother, their mutual understanding solidifying in the smouldering landscape. Whatever awaited them, the Fayb had already set the stage.