To Scale the Emerald Mountain (The Willowbane Saga #1)

18. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ALEC

M adness is an affliction that has plagued many men in the Vahnsing line over the millenia.

I watched as its dark shadow claimed my father and twin in quick succession, transforming them from caring and compassionate men of reason to angry and selfish fanatics devoid of any happiness or hope. They stopped smiling and laughing. Their faces turned cold and cruel. By the time I left for the Territories, I did not know Father at all.

He had begun Locane’s poisoning long before his death. All their quiet meetings behind closed doors while we all assumed Father was investing in Locane as the future King of Quinndohs were private lessons to pass down the affliction. Father was convincing Locane that he was not meant to be king, that it was he who split from I in the womb, and that our birth order meant absolutely nothing in terms of birthright. Father taught him instead about the great destiny of the Fates that they could claim for themselves.

Father would tell us stories when we were children about the powerful gems created by the gods when they came to this world. The gems were left in hidden corners, just waiting for the right person to come forth and claim them to become a god in their own right .

And they were just that, stories.

It is unknown precisely when it stopped being a fantastical myth to Father, but the lure of god power took hold of him and festered in his mind until there was nothing else left. The frequency with which he spoke about those gems increased in tandem with his mania.

And so, madness took my father.

It was too late to stop the indoctrination of Locane by the time we realized Father’s obsession had manifested behind closed doors years before it was apparent to those around him. Locane had known for years that he would abdicate to me when the time came and never said a word. That was his first betrayal. He allowed me to move across the sea to seek my own path. I made a name for myself in the Territories as a skilled warrior and a ruthless killer. I became a mercenary after so many years of having to be the pragmatic younger brother who kept the future king grounded, yet I had no direction for myself.

I should have seen what was coming.

Even as boys, Locane had a flair for spontaneity and living uninhibited. Many have told me in the twenty-seven years since Father died that I am better suited for the role of king. No matter the truth of the statement, it did not lessen the sting and disappointment when Locane left, shirking his responsibilities to me and claiming he had to chase destiny.

And so, madness took my brother.

I have spent many years praying since they succumbed to the madness that curses our family. Praying to the Mother, the gods, the Fates, or whatever higher beings are in control. I prayed that I would get to keep my mind .

The affliction is unpredictable. No recurring indicators of who has been marked are known. For instance, my grandfather was sane and whole when he died of old age. The only of his siblings that fell was a bastard half-brother. Like the rest, he died in his quest for god power. My prayers to be spared have increased in conviction and vehemence ever since the day she was born.

Ellya Rhydelle.

I felt her take her first breath. It was just after midnight as one of the first cool night breezes of the season fluttered the gauzy curtains of my chamber. I lay awake, unable to sleep after I left the Samhain festivities early due to restless anticipation that I did not understand at the time.

Then, it was as if a small light within me flickered to life. The warmth of it licked at my soul, nourishing and soothing it in a way that I had always been lacking. An emptiness I had carried within me all my long life was finally full of purpose and joy. That joy woke every cell in my body as my life connected to hers. I knew then what had happened; that the new shine in my heart meant the birth of the one meant just for me, and that I was meant for her. What I did not expect was to find her so early in her life. Nor did I expect her to be the daughter of the King of Brhadir.

A true mate is rare, and I had never heard of any true mates who had been born so far apart. I was just over two hundred when Ellya entered this world. Even after the precious piece of her soul that belongs to only me took root within, I thought she would have a life full of her own experiences and adventures before we found each other.

When I saw Mhaylene—King Milo of Brhadir’s mother—in Bokhaii, and she mentioned that Ellya had just turned five, on Samhain, I struggled to hide my excitement .

It was known that Tellisha had died in childbirth, but I did not know until then what night her death occurred. I told Mhaylene that I would like to come visit since it had been many years since I had seen my old friend in Crane Hills. I had not yet been able to see Milo since the unexpected passing of his wife.

In truth, all I wanted was to know if the Rhydelle princess was the girl I was waiting for.

I tried to deny my selfishness. I tried to convince myself to leave her be until she got older, to let her learn and grow and live without the weight of her whole life being laid out for her. But I could not resist. Every day that passed, I could focus on nothing else—nothing but the knowledge that I might know where to find her. Time was torture in those days, and within only a couple moons, I sent word to Milo that I would be coming.

The anticipation in those final days was nearly maddening.

I did nothing but pace the palace, trying to pass the time. I could take it no longer and showed up at Rhydelle Castle a day early, bringing Kraeston with me to tap into his power to not need rest between jumps as I traveled from The Capital in Quinndohs to Rhydelle Castle in Crane Hills.

I knew I had found her before I entered the castle grounds. As soon as I entered Brhadir, that invisible string between us tugged for the first time, pulling deep in my gut and guiding me to her. Up until recently, that tether begging to follow has not stopped pulling at me since.

My heart tried to hammer straight through my chest with every footfall as I neared that garden terrace at Rhydelle Castle. There was a tremor in my hands the moment before I swung open the gate and my old friend and his family came into view.

And there she was .

Feeling her aura, my nervousness instantly soothed. I was overtaken with calming peace when she turned and ran to me, as if she knew who I was; she recognized me for what I was in the capacity of a child.

When Ellya hugged my neck and told me we were going to be friends, I felt settled in a way that I had not since before Locane turned. In a way I had not since we were thick as thieves, one always with the other. Mother always told us we were two halves of the same whole. Even when Locane and I were still close, I have lived my entire long existence being lost—like something was missing. Ellya has filled those missing pieces, only now I am missing the gaping pieces of my brother.

For most of my life, I had never envisioned having a family of my own, for I had never met anyone who inspired any true passion in me. Really, I was just waiting for her. After Ellya was born, I have spent so many years experiencing nothing but peace and joy while we got to know each other.

I nearly brought her home with me when I left Brhadir after the conversation with Milo that evening that essentially ended our centuries-long friendship.

Ellya finally drifts off to sleep late in the night. She endearingly insisted that I keep reading to her for hours, and I happily obliged.

Reluctantly, I leave and head towards Milo’s apartments, knowing that he is waiting. I am not nervous despite the conversation that is to come with a man, an ally, I have known my whole life regarding his young daughter. Knocking on the solid oak door twice, the roughness of the wood scrapes at my knuckles.

“Come in! Come in!” his booming voice calls.

The door swings on silent hinges as I enter the parlor. Milo has his shirt sleeves pushed up his arms in a casual manner, and his blonde hair falls into his eyes. When I am settled on one of the plush velvet couches, he pours us each a healthy drink and clinks his glass against mine in celebration.

“Well, this is an unexpected turn of events,” Milo tells me.

Laughing, I nod in agreement. “I must admit, when I saw your mother in Bokhaii, and she told me when Ellya was born, I could not resist coming here to see if she was the one.”

“You knew your mate had been born?” Milo asks me surprised, and I nod with a soft smile gracing my lips.

“I did. I felt it the moment she entered this world.”

Milo’s eyes suddenly shutter and he pours another drink. “Yes, unfortunately that wasn’t a joyful night for everyone.”

The bitterness with which he speaks takes me aback, but I offer him my condolences nonetheless. I was unable to make it to Tellisha’s funeral after she died, tied to The Capital with the responsibility of hosting a trade summit that had been scheduled over a year before her death.

“I can imagine that you feel conflicted about what has been brought to light today,” I start, not bothering to waste time before getting to the point. “But I would like to hear your thoughts on what course of action we might take moving forward.”

Milo waves his hand carelessly, as if brushing off an unimportant subject. I stiffen.

“Of course,” he lights a cigar and offers me the box. I take one, rolling it between my fingers without lighting it before abandoning it on the table beside me. “Mother was going to bring her home tomorrow. You can take her then if you’d like, or just stop to collect her from Mother on your way back to The Capital. ”

The room grows cold as Milo speaks about his daughter as if she were nothing more than an unwanted pet that he is eager to place in another’s lap.

“Mhaylene and Ellya do not live here?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. My fists clench tight when Milo laughs at the suggestion.

“Gods, no. They live in Mother’s cottage. You remember the place?”

“Why do they not live here, with the rest of your family?” I ask him, fighting to keep the waver from my voice. Lifting my glass to my lips, I toss back half of its contents, just for something to do with my hands rather than wrap them around his throat.

I had quietly observed Milo with his family and noticed throughout the day how his interactions with Ellya are different from his other children. He becomes tense when she is near him; his shoulders stiffen when she speaks to him.

It is apparent now that he is fully uncaring.

“It’s too painful to look at her,” he says as an empty excuse, shameless in his aloofness towards his daughter.

Attempting to control my anger, I wrap my head around the ways that Milo is choosing to fail his daughter.

“But it is not too painful to look at Tellisha’s sons?” I ask with lethal softness.

Milo stares out the window deep in thought and impatiently polishes off the remainders of his drink. “Women of our background rarely die in childbirth. Why Tellisha?” he asks, that bitterness again coating his words. “Why her?”

“I am sorry that you so tragically lost your wife, Milo, but I am sure that you do not mean to tell me that you blame Ellya for her death.” I stare daggers at him. He returns my gaze, feeding off my growing mountain rage.

“I didn’t want another child,” he spits at me.

His insinuation efficiently lights the fire in me that was threatening to burn, and I leap to my feet. “This is how you would honor Tellisha’s memory? By snubbing your own daughter? You think that is what she would want?”

Milo’s chest puffs as he bows up on me in defense. “She can’t want anything now, can she, Alec? She’s dead.”

My arm rears back to throw my tumbler against the wall; broken glass and liquor rain down to the carpeted floor. “And you are a fucking coward!” I roar. “Rejecting your little girl who is clearly desperate for your love and approval. She is already growing up without her mother, you willingly deny her a father as well?”

“What does it matter? She has you now.” Milo turns away from me and angrily walks to the window, looking out over the city of Crane Hills below us—refusing to face me any longer.

“That is not the role I am meant to play in her life. She needs you just as much.” Although his back is still turned to me, I shake my head in disbelief at his empty silence. “But do not fret, Milo. I will gladly be the one to pick up your broken fucking pieces,” I throw at his craven back before storming out of the room. The door slams hard behind me, rattling portraits hung on the walls of the hallway.

Fuming, my fists clench all the way back to the apartments Ellya and Mhaylene are occupying during their apparently short stay at Rhydelle Castle.

My anger has not settled by the time I make it back, and I pace like a caged animal before the door. I try to slow my breaths while I push down the urge to return to Milo; to rip out his hateful heart with my bare hands to preserve and present to Ellya when she is grown.

Mhaylene must sense my restlessness. She opens the door to find me pacing and pulling at my hair. Her face holds endless sorrow, understanding where my fury is coming from.

“He is unreasonable,” I grit out. She nods at me sadly in agreement. “I am taking her home with me.” I give her a challenging look—daring her to try to stop me.

She does not, and only says, “Of course.”

Sighing, I smooth back my wild hair before telling her, “I am grateful that she has had you.”

Mhaylene and I stay up the rest of the night, discussing plans for her and Ellya to move to The Capital. My mind is lighter in the late evening hours, knowing there is a plan in place to protect Ellya from the failures of her father. When Mhaylene finally retires for the night, I peek in on Ellya while she sleeps.

The innocence of her aura shines brightly, not yet bruised by Milo. My chest constricts knowing that I cannot entirely save her from the hurts he will cause, but I will protect her from his failures in whatever ways I can.

I will single handedly ensure that she never doubts that she is loved and cherished.

All the plans Mhaylene and I made that night fell through only hours later with innocent words uttered from the mouth of a little girl.

When we mentioned going to The Capital to Ellya, she asked when her father, siblings, and stepmother would join us and my heart broke, realizing just how desperately she longed for her father, how much she looked up to her brothers, and cared for her stepmother. I soon learned Angelise agreed that Milo treated Ellya unfairly. I could not take her from them, not yet.

Fighting every instinct I had to keep her close to me, to be selfish, was difficult. But if I brought Ellya home with me then, I would be solidifying her never having any kind of real relationship with her family, save her grandmother.

Ellya also deserved the chance to be herself, separate from me. She deserved to form her own personality, have her own likes and interests discovered all on her own. She deserved to learn and grow and make mistakes, for that is all part of the beauty of life. I always wanted her to have the most, to have everything.

I had lived what is lifetimes for others before she entered the world. How could I not afford Ellya the same freedom? If she had lived practically her entire life with me—with me overseeing everything about her education, training, and leisure—she would have molded into what I expected. The unfairness of that prospect curdled my stomach and made me feel downright dirty for considering it. Ellya’s life meant more than just being my mate.

I never wanted her to doubt that we are equal in every way.

Ellya was inconsolable that first time I had to leave. In her child mind, she had assumed that since she was staying in Brhadir that I would be staying with her. She screamed, cried, and slapped me across the face. The heartache still stings as stoutly when I recall the memory today.

For some time, I doubted my decision to let her blossom on her own, but I visited as frequently as I could. Mhaylene would bring Ellya to visit The Capital just as often, and it quickly became apparent that letting her grow up in Brhadir was the right choice.

The complications of navigating such an intimate bond in a manner appropriate for Ellya’s age was a hurdle I foolishly did not expect. It ended up being easier from afar to allow our relationship to progress through the stages of her life. I first acted as a protector and friend, then mentor and confidant.

Things have only begun to shift to something more intimate recently .

Seeing the new ways she had grown and learned was an experience in itself. Throughout her childhood and adolescence, Ellya’s powers manifested quickly and strongly. It was painful to watch her struggle through mastering her Sight for so many years. Some of those visits when she would seize and bled from her nose after being overtaken by a vision made my soul ache knowing there was nothing I could do but hold her through it.

Ellya eventually mastered that gift along with the others she was given which came to her easily, naturally. Seeing how she fought with her staff made me swell with pride. Where her gifts were beautiful, the staff was not something she was born with. That was a choice that was all hers, even if inspired by Mhaylene.

Patience has become a virtue I have mastered. In the last year, I have sensed Ellya’s maturing nearing completion. The hard line I had drawn for us in our vast age difference coming into view. I was waiting for the time that I would come to her, find her fully blossomed, and our lives together would start. And that day came not long ago when I was able to get away long enough to come to her for a few days.

The moment my eyes landed on Ellya, everything had changed. I knew that it was time. It had only been a few months since I had last seen her; but she was different. Not her physical appearance, but her aura; it had fully lost the shine of childhood.

Ellya’s scent was different. She had always had the earthy, fresh smell of clove. But this time, when I gathered her in my arms, I was hit with something new that nearly brought me to my knees. Clove was still there, but wrapped around it was something dark and sultry. The scent of night blooming jasmine.

My arms held Ellya longer than I ever had, trying to douse myself in the intoxicating floral aroma that was so utterly, beautifully her. When I finally pulled away, and she gazed up at me, her lovely green eyes held the same fire I know that mine did. She knew as well as I that it was time. The ancient magic of our bond purring in my chest began whispering to me in that fleeting moment, beginning its coaxing to claim what is ours.

Cradling her face in my hands, I brought my lips to hers for the first time, capturing her mouth with mine passionately—possessively. We were both so enraptured with each other in the life altering moment I could not resist, even if I wanted to.

I was addicted at the first taste.

I would have brought Ellya home with me then. And gods, do I regret asking her at that moment—senselessly drunk on her and the possibilities ahead of us—if she was ready to come home with me. Ready to claim me as hers and us rule at each other’s side. Her preening was evident when I called her my queen, despite always knowing that she would be. In just minutes everything was different between us. We were to be everything we were always meant to be.

Milo and I barely tolerated each other in those first several years, arguing often over my outspokenness towards his lack of parenting. As Milo finally began to deal with his grief from losing Tellisha, he became more unsettled by the thought of me mating his daughter. And though our friendship will never return, we eventually became cordial. I held some level of nervousness when I left Ellya to go speak to her father.

“You are a good man, Alec. It’s just… I’ve seen you be downright debaucherous more times than I care to count. And you’re so old.” Discomfort contorted his expression.

Laughter crawled up my throat when he said that to me after I told him I was finally taking Ellya home. My debauchery tamed when I became king. It disappeared completely the day Ellya was born.

My joy was painfully short-lived when Milo informed me that Locane had shown up unannounced a few days before my arrival. “He was asking strange questions, Alec. About Ellya and her visions. Why would he be so interested in Ellya and her gifts?”

Milo’s concern was noxious, and I knew what Locane was inquiring about.

My brother and I had not spoken since our father’s funeral. Locane fled shortly after the service, leaving only a frantic note. It was in that nearly illegible letter that he told me the Quinndohsi throne was mine.

Word made it to me that he started a new life on the Mother Continent, living lavishly after making a sound investment in a mine in the Crehseidance Territory. I had hoped that he had healed from his afflictions that were hand delivered to him by Father, that he had given up the cursed quest. I prayed as often for that as I did for my sanity, especially knowing what I do now and how my mate may come to play a part.

My hopes were instantly dashed away when Milo relayed to me about my brother’s overall appearance. Overwhelming sadness blanketed us both when he told me about Locane’s pallor; the lack of shine in his eyes; the cruel lines of his face; the utter void of emotion in his tones and expressions. Mostly, when Milo described the darkness staining Locane’s fingers: a truth I would willingly accept to prepare for the possibilities ahead. Especially when Milo confirmed my suspicions about Locane’s questions, asking if Ellya ever had visions pertaining to the gods or Ellhora.

Dread welled up inside of me when I considered that he also knew where Mhaylene’s home is located, that it was virtually unprotected. Milo is not aware of Ellya’s ties to the gems of the gods; that the gems are indeed more than just myth and legend. He did not understand when I suddenly told him I had something to tend to before Ellya would leave with me to start our new life. Milo was alarmed by my urgency to keep Ellya and Mhaylene in the castle grounds under the protection of powerful wards. He was outraged when I started ordering his guards to change stations, adding extra to every hidden entrance and exit.

Unfortunately, my brother knew this castle as well as any.

It was necessary to compel Milo to stop asking questions, solidify my orders, and add more wards to the grounds personally. After a long night of increasing patrols and protection, the castle was abuzz with anxious energy. Everything was in place except for one thing. The dread I harbored knowing I had to hunt down my brother to put a stop to whatever he may have planned was only eclipsed by my dread of telling Ellya that she would not be leaving with me after all—at least not this time.

She was furious. Her fury only increased when I would not tell her why I had changed my mind so suddenly, why she was being forced to stay at the castle. Ellya screamed, cried, and slapped me across the face. I should have seen the omen for what it was when she reacted the same as she had the first time she learned I would be leaving without her.

My heart cracked in two when Ellya accused me of not wanting to be with her at all. She told me to fuck off and burn when I said I would be back for her. The two halves of my heart withered to ash when she told me not to bother; she was glad that I was leaving; she did not want a life with me after all. I pathetically apologized and turned on my heel, leaving her crying and alone as I closed the door behind me on the way out .

I should have told her.

I should have told her, rather than give in to my primal demand to defeat the threat to my precious mate myself. I should have refused to leave Ellya’s side. There is so much Mhaylene and I should have told her but did not, not wanting to steal her innocence or frighten her. But we failed Ellya that night and the days after. We tried to protect her peace instead of warning her that a madman might be plotting to steal her gifts.

I had never been more determined in my life than I was in those coming days. Determined to keep Ellya safe by whatever means. But despite my best efforts, it was all in vain. Only a few days later, Mhaylene and Milo found me—scouring the Emerald Mountains to take down the only other person who could truly crush me—to tell me that Ellya was gone.

And so, madness took me.