Vassal by Sterling D'Este (reading books for 7 year olds .txt) 📗

The morning bloomed bloodred, the sky molten oranges and pinks, golden rays piercing the starry purple of night and pushing it away.

Alphonse had woken in Delyth’s arms and managed to keep her tears at bay to kiss her paramour one last time. She had dressed, fondly touching the folds of her veil still tucked in the bottom of her pack, then wrapped her journal in it securely.

Secretly, she had stowed the journal in Delyth’s things and then left the tent.

She watched her last sunrise, but by the time the fiery dome had crested the sky, embers replaced amber, and Enyo was reborn.

She purred luxuriously and stretched, a mountain cat waking from a long nap. Ready to prowl. Ready to hunt.

No one bothered with breakfast; Thlonandras and her basin calling to her brightly, summoning. Packs and tents were towed away, Calamity chiming cheerfully on Delyth’s back as Enyo started her climb. She was sweating by the time she reached the top of the minor cliff and hauled herself over.

One hurdle down.

“Did you enjoy your night, Ba’oto?” she asked, collecting pebbles and turning them over in her hands.

“You know, I don’t think she did,” Tristan said, making a show of peering into Delyth’s face. “That isn’t the look of a satiated woman. And I would know. Pity you paid so much, eh? I’d be asking for my money back.”

Mindlessly, Enyo tossed the stones across the path, skittering and bouncing.

It seemed a childish thing to do, to throw rocks—

With a crack like splitting marble, a large pit opened where her throws had landed, exposing something that looked like a trapping pit. A hole dug into the ground, spears sunken deep into the earth so that when the beast fell in, it impaled itself.

Enyo smirked. “It appears some of my trials are still intact…”

༄

Delyth did not know whether or not to be glad that Enyo was walking the path rather than Alphonse.

Already, she missed her lover fiercely.

But the way she had spoken last night as though it was foolish even to consider hope. Let me save you, at least.

Delyth shivered. She couldn’t allow Alphonse to sacrifice herself. She didn’t deserve it.

But neither would she dignify Enyo’s question with an answer. The priestess just watched the rocks leave her hand, tumbling across the path until she triggered the bear trap. The ancient spikes within reached up to Delyth, open hands.

She turned away.

Of course, the path was lined with pitfalls. Enyo had called them ‘trials.’ Perhaps this was where the temple’s tradition of testing their warriors had come from. Enyo’s barbaric insanity distilled into a more reasonable, safer form. And more evidence of the temple’s comfortable ignorance.

Behind her, Tristan had finally stopped laughing at his ridiculous jokes. “Guess we’ll have to be light on our feet.”

“It is simple enough,” Enyo instructed as she started to walk down the trail, sporadically tossing rocks, as if she could not recall where precisely her traps were. “Don’t touch anything, watch out for snares and tripwires, and if at any point you hear a mudslide, run.”

Her gaze flickered knowingly to Delyth, clearly expecting her priestess to save her should it come to that. After all, Delyth could fly.

⚄

Tristan turned his eyes skyward and sighed.

Fucking Enyo.

Did things always have to be this difficult?

He rubbed his face with his hands and pressed forward, sliding around the morose warrior with the ease of a mountain cat. This was going to be annoying, and all because Enyo had to prove to herself just how devoted her people were.

It wasn’t as if Delyth was going to save him if anything happened. He didn’t have perky, bouncing tits or full lips.

He huffed, scanning the ground for tripwires. At least he was quick on his feet. That ought to help.

“Is the entire length of the path trapped?”

Surely, it would have been enough just to do the ends. Enyo seemed to think about that, then pulled a face that was neither confirming nor denying this idea. “There used to be wild bears that Maoz would convince to roam these mountains…” He didn’t think she could have sounded more pleased by the thought. “Maybe you could convince them to leave us alone with your satisfactory techniques?”

“Me?” Tristan put a hand over his chest. “But you are so educated on the subject, m’lady. I would only get in your way.”

He glanced over his shoulder to watch Delyth folding in on herself, face stony but shoulders hunched forward.

Hmm, it appeared that his jokes weren’t helping her mood.

Tristan smiled. He would just have to try harder.

“Though I would, of course, love to learn by -erm- demonstration.”

She shook her head. “It’s much harder with female parts…” she trailed off as she peered around a tight corner of the trail. It had narrowed and was forcing them between two large boulders.

Tristan followed her gaze, his sense of unease growing. Was there something behind those boulders? Enyo rubbed her hands together, as if in preparation, and then stepped past the behemoth rocks.

And the air split with a crack.

Of course, it was a fucking trap. And Enyo had forgotten about it.

Above him, something dark and heavy was falling, too fast to bother finding out what. He bounded backward, stumbling to the path so that grit and rocks bit into the skin of his palms with jagged teeth. Was he out from under it?

Tristan turned his face skyward, arm thrown above him for protection, to find that Delyth had not sprung away from the tree but towards it. She was in the air, her black wings straining, and the log pressed into one shoulder.

She didn’t throw it so much as fall, angling her wings down the slope where she let go of the log. There was a long scratch across her cheek where some smaller twig had scored her.

Tristan leaped up as though he had never fallen, dusting himself off peevishly.

“Didn’t you design this path?!” he snapped at Enyo, his expression dark.

Watching where the large branch bounced down the mountainside with regular thumps,