“Horses,” Elyssara murmurs. “So many of them. They feel… so close. But I can’t see…” she trails off.
Kael swings his gaze to Teddy, a knowing expression already on his face.
“The Great Calling,” Teddy whispers in awe.
The Great fucking Calling.
Elyssara doesn’t move, eyes still searching for the herd of horses she’ll never find.
Because they’re not there.
“The Great what?” she asks, voice still distant.
Kael and Teddy share a knowing look.
“The Great Calling,” Teddy repeats. “I thought… I thought it was a myth. A tale told to children…” he trails off.
Elyssara drags her gaze from the horizon, spinning slowly. Her eyes lock on Kael’s.
“What does it mean?”
He huffs a small laugh.Of course the horses have come for her.
He drags his gaze across the group and clears his throat.
“In old Zerynthian lore, it is believed that when a person is on the path of their Great Calling, they will hear the thunder of hooves—a creation made by Rualia, Goddess of Change and Purpose. She created a herd of wild mares on the continent ofTaaruven that call to those who have crossed a threshold,” he explains, awe still thrumming through his veins.
“A threshold?” Seren asks, leaning in a little closer, eyes alight with curiosity.
Teddy nods, taking a step forward.
“When one with a world-altering fate steps onto the path of their Great Calling, the horses make themselves known. The sound of hooves, El… it is an invitation to claim one. To bond with a Taaruvi mare. They become one with their bonded, responding to their every whim and intention, helping them live out the full power of their path,” he says, awe-struck.
A sound heard not with the ears—but felt somewhere deeper.
Elyssara doesn’t respond, only stares blankly ahead.
So Ronyn takes the opportunity. He raises a finger, a puzzled look quirking a brow.
“How does one go about getting themselves their own Taaruvi mare? Wouldn’t mind one if they’re on offer,” he says flippantly, shrugging a shoulder.
The group shakes their heads, stifling a laugh.
Jax groans. “They’re not ‘on offer’, you moron. They call to you when your fate is world-altering and you’re on the path toward it. Not just because you’re a sarcastic prick who wants one,” she scoffs.
“And I don’t believe sleeping with the maids, pick-pocketing, or embarrassing everyone at Poker is considered a Great Calling, Ronie. As sad as I am to admit it,” Rubi drawls, throwing back a swig of brask.
Ronyn scoffs indignantly, feigning offense at the insult. “I’ve worked hard at those skills. Who are you to question the great Goddess of Change and Purpose? She might have watched me at work and decided she was a patron of the arts,” he jests.
He flashes a dazzling smile. The kind of grin he wears when he’s talking absolute bullshit. “I don’t mean to embarrass theother lads, but I have heard some lovers refer to my love-making as a masterpiece.”
That earns a laugh.
Kael relishes the sound. Normality. Levity. Joy.
Rubi barks a laugh, slapping the table. “By all means, don’t let the truth get in the way of your opinions, Ronie.”
But Ronyn’s already smiling.
