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I laughed, not caring who heard me. It felt good to talk now that some of the urgency was gone. I needed some normalcy, even if it was short-lived. It was my first real conversation after almost a week of barked words and shouted threats.
“Har, har,” Aiden mocked, turning slightly in the saddle to pretend-glare at me before a smile lit up his face.
Dimples appeared, the right side slightly higher up his cheek than the left. Those crooked dimples on that handsome, somehow perpetually sad-looking face were downright dangerous. Aiden had stunning dark blue eyes that were shiny no matter the light and always looked like they were about to shed a tear. They were more breathtaking with the glint of humor.
Aiden might have flashed those dimples to hook that dignitary’s wife. He probably regretted that since her husband had tried to kill him. He should be more careful where he flashes those things.
I wanted to poke my finger into his dimple so bad, but I refrained. Ugh. What was happening to me?
“Thanks, Aiden, I needed that.” I hugged him tighter, laying my head on his back. “How long until we get there?”
“Another hour or so. I have a place inside the Forest of the Goddess where we can stay for a night.” Aiden gestured toward the wooded area we were approaching.
I froze, locked tightly around him. Everyone knew the Goddess’ Forest was now home to numerous rebels and thieves. More and more stories were filtering out daily. No trespassing signs lined the entire perimeter, but they would only keep out the law-abiding citizens, not the ones everyone feared.
I almost wanted to take my chances camping in the open. Only a fool would pass that tree line at night. It looked so ominous and threatening in the distance. I wasn’t sure who would be worse to run into— thieves, murderous rebels, and whatever other unknown threat was in the woods… or the king's men.
“We are staying in the forest?” I asked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“No, it will be perfectly safe,” he said without hesitation.
“No one is safe in the forest,” I supplied, my hesitation evident.
Aiden chuckled, patting my hand, and continued riding without further explanation.
My arms locked around him, holding on for dear life, not leaving an inch of space between our bodies, cementing myself to him.
I hadn’t seen Aiden in three years. I knew next to nothing about the boy he was, let alone the man he had become. It should have been awkward talking to a stranger and holding him like this, but it wasn’t. It felt… good.
I longed to know his story. That would be added to the list of things that I needed to ask about later. It wasn’t as important as other issues, but still worth discussing. He’d apparently done some wild stuff.
It had been six days since we left the castle, and I was finally about to get some answers.
And get off this darn horse. My ass was both numb and on fire at the same time.
* * *
Before the Great War and the creation of Adaria, tensions were high between the four elemental regions. A peace agreement was arranged so that together, the four regions could build a grand temple in tribute to the Goddess. They picked a central location for all four regions and declared the newly named Forest of the Goddess sacred ground. It was owned by none but protected by all.
At the time it was built, Spirit Users could communicate directly with the Goddess, transcribe her word, and give her blessings. Their teachings had helped the people who had freshly settled on this land learn to manage their new elements and completely different ways of life. When the temples were complete, the most powerful among the Spirit Users became Elders and presided within. The most powerful Spirit Users were accepted to serve in this temple. The rest joined smaller temples throughout the land.
Every drawing I’d seen portrayed a magnificent temple constructed with the best craftsmanship and materials from all four regions. The glimmering, light-colored stone was nestled between lush trees and bountiful gardens. A statue handmade in the Goddess’ likeness stood proud, front and center. The statue had seemed ethereal, sparkling in the sunlight.
The Goddess was regal, with an intricate five-point crown resting on her head. In her hand, she held out the five original elemental symbols, Fire, Earth, Water, and Air, surrounding Spirit in the middle. She cradled them almost lovingly as she held them out to us in offering.
The artist managed to portray the Goddess’s intelligent eyes, strength of posture, kindness, and fierce protectiveness as she gazed lovingly at the land below her, at her followers. Us.
Riding past the ruins was a terrible experience. We had all seen the drawings of the ruins. They were commonly used when telling a cautionary tale about what happens when you disrespect the Goddess. But witnessing an illustration and seeing something in person was a completely different experience.
Shadows spread over the broken stone building. Several trees grew from the original structure while moss and grass overtook the crumbled stone littering the ground. Cracks caused by time and nature highlighted the original cream color against the charred black left behind from the fire.
Worst of all was the fallen statue crushing the blooms that once flourished beneath the Goddess’s feet, one of which was busted entirely off. The hand that lovingly held the elements was smashed into the ground. She didn’t escape the fire. Or nature.
Though I sympathized with the villagers and was extremely grateful that Father’s position had allowed us to escape most of the suffering, people only made their lives harder with the civil unrest over the years. The king and council’s focus was pulled from finding a cure for the magic loss and instead were dealing with the rebels' thievery and militia attacks. The Denalians eventually took over that effort, but I never understood someone biting the hand that feeds them.
Plus, the leading theory for the loss of magic was that the Goddess was taking it away, so it was asinine to think significantly disrespecting her and destroying her temple would gain her favor. It would earn you a well-deserved mark of shame.
If awarded directly from the Elders as the hand of the Goddess, a mark of shame magically castrated you. It hurt forever, some even dying from losing their magic, the pain and withdrawal too much to handle. The more current marking of shame, like mine, just hurt all chances of social or economic success. But they murdered the residing Elders, stealing invaluable artifacts and destroying irreplaceable manuscripts. They deserved the mark, I did not.
