Chapter 424: Chapter 421: Questions

Chapter 421: Questions

 

  The silver moon glowed softly in the night sky. Stryg lay on the ground, Blossom wrapped around him snugly and a thin blanket underneath him. His head was lying on Tauri's thighs as she caressed his silver-white hair. 

  Tears stained his blue cheeks but he didn’t know why. He felt like he knew nothing, really. Everything was a blur. He had been traveling inside icy tunnels deep underneath Grimstone Mountain and now he was lying beneath the stars.

  What had happened?

  “Was it a sad dream?” Tauri asked gently and wiped a tear from his cheek.

  “I don’t… I don’t remember. I just felt— warm,” he muttered.

  “Stryg!” Plum jumped on top of him, disregarding his injuries, and hugged him tightly.

  “Ow,” he smiled with a wince.

  Tauri frowned and slapped the drow’s head.

  “Agh! What was that for!?” Plum grimaced and rubbed her scalp.

  “Don’t hug the wounded, idiot,” Tauri said sternly.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Plum rolled her eyes and jumped off Stryg, though she stayed next to them.

  “I’m glad everyone’s okay,” Stryg smiled in relief.

  “Not everyone, around half the hunters didn’t make it out,” Tauri said sadly.

  Stryg’s lilac eyes grew cold. “What happened?”

  “I already told you, we’re safe. You’ve suffered heavy injuries, you almost died. Rest for now. We’ll worry about our problems tomorrow,” Tauri pinched his cheek.

  Stryg glanced at Plum, “Where are we?” Stryg asked.

  “We’re at the base of Mt. Moon Fang,” she said without missing a beat.

  “Plumela.”

  “What? He should know,” Plum said.

  “Moon Fang…? How long have I been asleep?”

  “A little over two days,” Plum said.

  “What happened at Grimstone?” Stryg asked.

  “That’s…” Plum didn’t know what to say.

  “First Mother took care of it,” Tauri said.

  “What happened to the frost trolls?” Stryg asked.

  “First Mother took care of it,” she repeated.

  “And the ore shipment treaty?”

  “First Mother took care of it.”

  “I see… then what happened?” Stryg asked.

  “We left that damn mountain and traveled to this mountain,” Plum said wryly.

  “Wait, how did you two carry me all the way here?”

  Stryg was aware he was— heavy. Feli and a few others had tried to carry him before and failed miserably. Had they dragged him all the way down Grimstone and up Moon Fang? He suddenly felt guilty for having fallen unconscious.

  Tauri noticed the change in his expression and caressed his cheek reassuringly. “Hey, it’s fine. First Mother also took care of it.”

  Stryg wrinkled his brow, “How did she…?”

  Plum shrugged, “Ask her yourself.”

  “Later,” Tauri said with the same strict voice she used to admonish them back at the academy.

  “Fine,” Stryg grumbled and closed his eyes to rest. He wanted to know more but he was content resting on Tauri’s soft thighs while she caressed his hair. He would never admit it but it felt nice.

  His thoughts began to drift away and sleep slowly began to take him…

  “...Krikolm!” Stryg’s eyes snapped open and he sat up in a flash. Pain flared all over his body and he fell back with a grunt.

  “Stryg! Don’t move so fast, you’ll tear open your wounds!” Plum warned.

  “You heal faster than anything I’ve ever seen, but you almost died. You need to rest,” Tauri said.

  “Where is my sword?” he asked restlessly.  

  “Your sword…? You mean—”

  “It’s right here,” Plum pointed to the scarlet blade lying next to him.

  Stryg sighed in relief. “Thank the gods. For a moment I thought it was forgotten at Grimstone.”

  “I take it you no longer hate the relic sword anymore?” Tauri asked carefully.

  Stryg picked up the sword and stared at the blade. “Its name is Krikolm, the Bloodfang. The ancestral weapon of House Veres… my House…”

  Plum and Tauri shared a silent worried look.

  “I know it sounds odd, but when my blood touched the blade I saw these visions of the past…” Stryg’s voice trailed off. “I need answers.”

  He looked around the camp and spotted First Mother sitting on a half-buried boulder uphill around ten meters away. Though her cloak was pulled up and her back was turned to him, he saw her watching him from the corner of her eye.

  First Mother noticed his staring and quickly looked away.

  With a painful grimace, Stryg rolled over and pushed himself to his feet. Blossom sensed his movements and unfurled around him, returning to its usual cloak form. As usual, several flowers had grown around the grass where Blossom had been.

  “Stryg, wait!” Tauri called out.

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  “Leave him,” Plum shook her head subtly.

  Stryg grabbed his bruised side with one hand and dragged Krikolm across the ground with the other. The scarlet blade carved a silent path behind him as he walked up the hill with sore legs.

  First Mother turned away as he drew closer, but Stryg ignored her cold shoulder and clambered up the boulder with a heavy groan. He settled himself next to her and stabbed Krikolm into the side of the boulder. The blade sank into the stone like a knife through butter.

  “I see you’re awake…” First Mother said without looking at him.

  “Forgive me for interrupting your watch.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I just needed to talk to you,” Stryg leaned down and looked at her face from below her cowl before she could move away. He blinked in surprise, “You’re hair… it’s white?”

  Aurelia sighed and pulled her cowl down. “I’m getting old. Happens to us all, some sooner than others.”

  “Your hair turned white after two days?”

  Aurelia stared at him as if he was an idiot. “I dye it, Stryg. I lost the dye along with the rest of my supplies when the frost trolls ambushed us at the river. Is this what you wanted to talk about? If so, then stop wasting my time and go to sleep.”

  “No, it’s just— W-Well.” Stryg wrung his hands together uncertainly. “What do you know of my parents?”

  Aurelia’s eyes widened in panic for a moment but she quickly eased her expression. “I’ve already told you, your mother was a gatherer of the tribe. She died giving birth to you.”

  “And my father?”

  “As I’ve told you, he was never a part of your mother’s life. Or the tribe’s for that matter.”

  “So you never met him?”

  “No. I’ve told you all this before.” She clicked her tongue, “Why are you wasting my time with these questions?”

  Stryg stared at the scarlet blade next to him. “Was my father– was my father a goblin?”

  “...Of course, he was.”

  “But you said you never met him. So how do you know?”

  Aurelia sighed. “Your mother spoke about him, once, briefly. She met him at Evenfall during a full moon celebration. That was the only time they met. They were hardly acquaintances, let alone close.”

  “So you never saw him? How can you be sure he was a goblin then?”

  “Because only goblins are allowed in Evenfall.”

  Stryg glanced pointedly at Plum and Tauri in the distance.

  Aurelia frowned. “With the rare exception,” she amended dryly.

  “Then my father could have been an exception, right?”

  “...It is possible, though such an individual would have been escorted throughout his entire stay. He would have basically been a prisoner within the city limits. He wouldn’t have been allowed to wander the streets of Evenfall, much less participate in a full moon celebration. If your father was an outsider he would have never met your mother.”

  Stryg stared at his hands, his fingers trembling. “If my father was a goblin, then why am I blue? Why are my eyes purple? Why is my— Why is my hair white?”

  “Do you expect me to have all the answers, Stryg?” Aurelia scowled. “The world is full of unanswered questions. You were born under a new moon, an ill omen even in the best of situations. Strange things happen on such nights. Many have suffered worse fates on moonless nights than an odd skin tone. Be grateful that the Sylvan Mothers didn’t throw you out into the forest the night you were born and leave it at that!”

  “Okay…” Stryg nodded slowly. “I just have one more question.”

  Aurelia groaned quietly. “...What is it now?”

  “My mother… was she a goblin?”

  “Are you daft, boy? Of course, she was a goblin! She grew up in the village like the rest of our people.”

  “But—”

  “Enough!” Aurelia snapped. “I will forgive your stubborn impertinence this once because you’ve barely woken up from your injuries. Clearly, your mind is still addled.”

  Stryg bit his lip uncertainly, “First Mother, I—”

  “Tomorrow we will arrive at Evenfall and you will have to stand in front of the Elects and petition your request. I suggest you rest while you still can and think on what you shall say.”

  Aurelia stood up and hopped off the boulder with a light step.

  Stryg clenched his fists tight and watched her walk away. Hesitation filled his chest. He opened his mouth but no words came out. He bowed his head in frustration and clenched his eyes shut.

  “Why did you name me Stryg!?” he called out.

  Aurelia stiffened and looked back at him. “What did you say…?”

  The cold look in her eyes gave him pause, but Stryg pushed onward. “If my parents were goblins then why did you name me after Stryga Veres? Why name me after the Bane of Lunis? She butchered countless of us! Men, women, children! Their armies slaughtered our people by the thousands on her command! So why…? Tell me… please. Who…” He swallowed the lump in his throat, “Who am I—?”

  Aurelia jumped back onto the boulder with a nimble step, landing in front of him in the blink of an eye. Stryg froze in fear. She looked at him with a steady gaze and to his surprise she placed her hand over his heart.

  “You are Stryg of the Blood Fang tribe. You are a child of the scarlet forest and son of the Sylvan folk. That is who you are. And that is enough.”

  He looked down, uncertain of what to say.

  Aurelia placed her other hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “Tomorrow you will speak to the most powerful and influential Sylvans in the entire world. Your words will determine if they shall send aid to Hollow Shade or not. Focus on helping your friends and the goblins still living behind those walls. That is all that matters right now, Stryg.”

  He nodded without meeting her eye.

  Aurelia sighed and stepped back. “If you still wish to speak on these matters afterwards, then we will talk. Until then, rest, child.”

  Aurelia looked at him one last time then walked back to the camp.

  Stryg stared at her departing figure with a troubled expression.

  “Who am I to you…?” he whispered.

 

 

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