Page 57 of The Concubine King
“But it’ll take the whole day just to get out of the city.”
Kiaro held out a hand.Ethyr stared at it for a long second before daring to take it, and the god’s slender fingers wrapped around his.He didn’t have time to consider the chill taking over his body, he only had a sense that the ground below him had moved, and he stumbled a little with the change.Kiaro gripped his arms to keep him upright, and the sudden proximity raised his eyes to Kiaro’s.
As their gazes met, a flicker of emotion ran across Kiaro’s face, and it took a second for Ethyr to recognize what it was, because it was so foreign on the quiet, stoic god.Discomposure.He released Ethyr, stepping back.
“S-sorry,” Ethyr said, not sure what else to say.
Kiaro gave only a curt nod.“This way.”
He started through the trees.Because there were trees, Ethyr realized for the first time.The city—if it could be called that—was gone, replaced by a towering forest that looked so much like the one from his home that his heart could have burst.He swallowed sorrow and homesickness and followed Kiaro.The god stepped through the woods with ease, like he knew every branch and root and stone.
“Where are we?”Ethyr asked, but got no response.
Kiaro slowed.Ethyr didn’t see it until they were almost upon it.An opening in the earth, like the dirt had yawned wide and gotten stuck.But it wasn’t a cave—forming the top of the structure was the base of an enormous tree.Where the trunk didn’t cover, its roots spread out over the top and down the sides, mingling with ivy and ferns and other plants to give the whole abode a beautifully overgrown look.
“Wow,” Ethyr breathed.He knew Kiaro was watching him, but he couldn’t help his awe, stepping forward and pressing a hand to one of the roots.To be amongst nature again was like taking the first warm breath of spring after a particularly harsh winter.
“I knew you would like it.”
The words took a second to sink in.Ethyr pried his eyes from the majesty to look at Kiaro, who watched him with a besotted smile.The words were confusing, but the smile took Ethyr completely off guard, and the question on his tongue stammered out.
“Kn-knew?How?”
The smile drifted away and Kiaro did not reply.Ethyr stepped back, a tingling feeling down his spine.Had Kiaro been watching him more closely than the others?Why?It wasn’t exactly something he could ask about.
“You said this place wasn’t alive,” he said instead.“But isn’t this alive?”
Kiaro looked at him curiously.Then, as though the look had given something away, the god caught his expression and neutralized it.
“It is not,” he said flatly.“Humans know that plants grow, and so they grow.But it is not from life.It is more like the way humans manipulate puppets.”
Ethyr understood.Itwasmissing something.It was vibrant green and brown, but dull somehow.It did not tug at him the way the wild at home did.Still, he couldn’t help but appreciate the reprieve from the endless stone of the city.He returned to the ground-cave’s entrance.It looked like there were piles inside the shelter.
“Can we go in?”Ethyr asked, resting a hand on the leaf-shrouded frame of the entrance and squinting into the shade.It was definitely full of stuff.
“Of course,” Kiaro said, so Ethyr slipped in.Kiaro had to duck under the opening, but once inside it was surprisingly spacious.It took a moment in the sparse light leaking through the tree’s leaves and roots for Ethyr’s eyes to fully adjust.
The den was filled with things like the temple and palace had been, but with fewer items, and none as opulent.Simple iron candlesticks like the ones his commune used for the Festival of Frost, bone dice, wool cloaks, a few carved wooden pieces lay strewn about.But prominent amongst the rustic items was a large piece of wood, taller than Ethyr’s torso and about as wide as his outstretched arms, with an incredible landscape painted on it.The brush strokes weren’t the clean, careful, pious strokes of the murals in the palace and temple—they were harried, chaotic, like the artist had made it in a possessed frenzy.
But what most drew Ethyr was the dark spot almost directly center of the piece.The rest of the landscape—a forest—had been painted as though cast in full daylight.But the foremost tree blocked out the light, so that its canopy was illuminated while below it was cast in darkness.Barely visible, at the base of the tree, knelt the small silhouette of a person.His face was the most discernible part of him as he clung to the tree, looking adoringly up at it.The rest of the landscape may have been bright, but it was tumultuous—this one dark spot was tranquil.
“It is from an ancient legend,” Kiaro’s voice broke through the hold the painting had taken on Ethyr.“The god of nature harboring the god of darkness.Most mortals interpreted the tale as darkness tricking nature into sheltering him.But this artist understood.”Ethyr looked up at him.“Darkness is gentle.”Kiaro was speaking almost reverently.“It is nature who is fierce.”
The god had never looked so vulnerable and aching.He stared at the painting alongside Ethyr, lost in his admiration of it and for once too unaware to correct his expression.
“Why is this here?”Ethyr whispered.Something about the space suddenly seemed too sacred to speak loudly.
“I brought it here,” Kiaro said, as though it was a complete answer.
“Why?From where?”
“I saved it after the artist died.”
Ethyr looked around at the pile of other things.“And these too?”
“They were offered.”
“These are offerings?”
