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Enyo returned and a body that is tiring and weakening as I fight her. My mind is iron against her, and yet I know it is rusting. 

Perhaps, if Etienne and I were alone still, this would be simpler, easier. Perhaps, if it were just he and I, we could really stand a chance to cast Enyo out once and for all? 

And then I wouldn’t have to hurt anyone anymore. 

That would be a blessing. 

“Aderyn bak dewr…”Delyth pulled her wings in tight, her chest a small thunderstorm. Alphonse had been so brave despite the odds, so determined to fight Enyo, and that reminder bolstered the warrior’s resolve. She owed it to Alphonse to fight just as hard as the healer had, even if it meant fighting Enyo in Alphonse’s body.

Delyth curled up around the book and kept reading as though it were not just the record of Alphonse’s journey but the healer herself.

Sixth Moon, Waning Crescent: Thloegr

I was wrong. Enyo is not simply Enyo. She is insane—a madwoman who would bite off her own nose to spite her face. 

Etienne and I made a run for it. He enchanted Tristan and Delyth to sleep, and we escaped. We ran and ran, and while it broke my heart to see Delyth lying on the trail, I knew it was for the best. She would never want her Goddess to be cast out, and we would never be able to defeat Delyth, let alone she and Tristan both.

I thought for one moment that I would be free from Enyo, that I would not have to betray Delyth at the temple. And despite the pain ofleaving my friend behind, my practical self hurried. I had to find the cure before I completely succumbed to Enyo. 

But I was wrong. 

Enyo is stronger than I am. She’s a Goddess. It was foolish to think I could make one choice for myself, to fight for myself. She yanked on the reins of my mind and took control. She started a massive fire and attacked Etienne and Delyth. 

She wanted nothing more than the bloody destruction of her foes.She didn’t care about anything but her own wrath. She made me hurt my friends and scare my companions. 

Now, Delyth will never forgive me for leaving, for taking her Goddess away.And Enyo knows my intentions. She has redoubled her efforts to get out, and I feel those pains in my heart and mind. My body is withering. My will is gone. 

Etienne, too, seems broken. He could not stop Enyo. He could do nothing as she tried to burn him alive. 

I don’t know what’s worse; knowing Enyo is so powerful, our chances of success dwindling by the day, or the way Delyth won’t look at me now. 

I ruined my friendship and my future with a moment’s decision.

Delyth shut the journal, Alphonse’s despair as painful as her own hurt. Her wing twinged vaguely in memory of that day: her body broken, the healer sobbing as she mended it. The warrior had few memories so dark, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that Alphonse had never tried to leave out of a lack of trust but rather out of a sense of right. Their friendship had not been lost as Alphonse feared. It had continued to grow.

With that thought, Delyth closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, the journal still pressed to her chest.

⥣          ⥣           ⥣

“You look pale, mage,” Meirin murmured as she watched him gaze into the contents of his cup. They had woken before dawn, and Delyth had flown off to find the precise location of Enyo, Tristan, and Maoz. So Meirin was left with a shaky Ingolan and an uncomfortably tight sensation in her own stomach.

Today was the day. The day they would bait the Gods, tempt the fates, and hopefully save their friends. To make things worse, it was cloudy, and thunder rolled ominously in the distance. They might be running through a storm to head off their prey—not something she particularly looked forward to. For now, though, she simply had to keep Etienne from vomiting or losing his nerve. He wasn’t a tested warrior, so she had no idea how to gauge his ability to complete this task.

Still, she knew from personal experience that keeping him distracted would likely help. She never liked to overthink  an unpleasant task before setting about it—no point in worrying over the future. It would come whether or not she fussed. “So—Do you have a paramour back in Ingola? Someone fair and tall?” she asked, tone half teasing, half interested.

“A paramour?” Etienne repeated, looking up suddenly from his tea. “Um, no,” he stuttered. “There was never time, what with my studies.”

That surprised Meirin. The Mynydd Gwyllt clan was fairly accepting of people taking lovers before they settled down with just one partner. Etienne couldn’t be much younger than she was, and he wasn’t terrible looking.

“Perhaps then just a bed mate? That doesn’t take much time, in my experience. At least not for men…” She grinned and kept her gaze on his face, taking pleasure in his mild discomfort. Owlishly, she sipped her own tea. She thought herself clever to distract him with this kind of talk.

✶

Etienne looked down at his cup again and took a sip. “Sort of?” he admitted, a little awkwardly. It wasn’t as though he had never slept with other students—he didn’t follow Alphonse’s Goddess, Mother Agathi, with all her talk of purity— but neither had he seen anyone regularly. There was always the work.

“Sort of? You either did or didn’t, Etienne. I’d think you’d know… All that learning you have.”

“Off and on,” he said, trying to appear nonchalant. Meirin was smiling, a sort of half-tilt to her lips that looked suspiciously as though she were laughing at him. Etienne scowled. “What about you then? Got someone back home?”

“Plenty of someones. You might not have noticed, but I am strong, and a good warrior and I stand to inherit the bakery. Plenty

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