The Emerald-Opal Heir - 5

The Warrior

Forrest knew it was ironic that he wished his dead friend was here so that he could tell the others about her death. Some goddess was probably watching him, laughing at this cruel twist of fate. 

“Can I, y’know, sit down?” he asked. 

Emmeline, Clara, and Newt all took a step back, surprised at the sound of his voice. 

Forrest couldn’t blame them. The last time the four had been together was… Forrest didn’t know but it felt like forever. He could see that they’d changed too. 

Those dark circles rimming Emmeline’s eyes were new, and so was the pale sheen to her skin. The markings on Newt’s arms were silver instead of black, which Forrest guessed was due to the weird Reader illness. Even Clara seemed older now, something like sadness lingering in her eyes. 

Forrest noted that Beckett was absent, just as Emmeline had informed him in their messages through Ernest. He still couldn’t believe that the prince had left them… 

“Take a seat, take a seat,” Clara interjected, her words rushed. “Your friends can sit too.”

The message was clear. Forrest was to explain everything, every heartbreaking moment. He was beginning to wish he’d taken the coward’s way out by sending everything through letters. 

Forrest took a seat on one of the logs surrounding the small campfire, grateful for the heat it provided. He scooted over a little to make room for Coral before he remembered that she wasn’t there. Something in his chest cracked. 

Bethany took the seat, easing a bit of the awkwardness. She didn’t say anything, which Forrest was also thankful for. Her bronze hair glinted in the firelight but she didn’t meet his eyes.

His new friends had been nothing but supportive over the past week or so. Even now, faced with people they’d only heard stories about - essentially figures of myths - they stayed by his side. Rae, Margo, and Calli took their seats on the next log over and Forrest caught Clara watching them with cautious eyes. They were definitely an interesting picture - Rae, blonde and pixie-like with a childish innocence about her; Margo, nearly identical to Bethany except her hair was slightly shorter; and Calli, her hair a dark brown and witch mark marring her palm. Margo and Bethany’s triplet brother, Morgan, plopped down on Forrest’s other side. 

Their unspoken support was evident, drifting through the air and keeping Forrest strong. 

Emmeline, Newt, and Clara were watching him from across the fire. He could sense the questions burning in their minds, knowing fully that they kept quiet out of respect for him. Even the other girl - Brooke, Forrest was pretty sure - was silent. 

“Coral is … she’s…” 

Goddesses. He couldn’t do this. He turned to Bethany, hoping maybe she would explain for him. She only pressed her lips together in a tight line. An obvious no. 

“She isn’t with us anymore.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and dark. Forrest stumbled over his words, struggling to force himself to speak. How could he possibly explain this? 

“It was my fault,” he whispered. “I was the one who killed Coral.”

A risked look at the others. Emmeline pressed her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide as she moved closer to Newt, whose mouth was pressed into a thin line. And Clara … her expression was unreadable. 

Morgan put a comforting hand on Forrest’s shoulder. An encouragement to keep going. 

Forrest had told Emmeline pretty much everything else through their letters, and he trusted that she would have told the others the contents. The only things he’d left out were Coral’s death and his swim in the river outside of Dinrali. And even now, he wasn’t sure how to phrase it so he didn’t sound like a monster. 

It wasn’t you, a voice whispered in his head - sounding oddly like Coral. It was the Beast. The … creature that killed Coral wasn’t Forrest, it was the Beast - an embodiment of his Curse and anger. 

“Racke … I … we.” Why was this so hard to put into words? Morgan gave a little squeeze to Forrest’s shoulder. “Coral followed a whim that told her we could convince Racke to take back my Curse. She agreed, too, but she said I… I had to face my greatest fear. My Curse overtook me and… “ 

His voice trailed off and he stared at the flames, afraid to look at anyone else. 

“Coral tried to help me but in the heat of the moment, she failed and I killed her.” And now her blood is on my hands. 

He didn’t dare look at Emmeline or Newt or especially not Clara. Instead, Forrest kept his gaze fixed on the fire. It reflected the roiling heat welling in his chest. Tears stung his eyes but he pushed them back. 

Finally, it was Clara who broke the silence. “Did you make Racke pay for it?”

Forrest lifted his head, surprised by Clara’s reaction. He met Clara’s steely gaze, her red-rimmed eyes seemingly empty. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she repeated her question. “Did you make Racke pay for killing Coral?”

Forrest nodded grimly. “I drew my sword on her and left her a nice present on her cheek.” If anyone was shocked that he’d managed to draw blood from a goddess, they said nothing.

He glanced at Emmeline and Newt to see how they were taking the news, only to find Newt wrapping an arm around Emmeline as she cupped her face in her hands. Even Newt was in tears at this point. 

Forrest felt a twinge of envy at seeing the two of them together and alive, but the feeling was overcome by the guilt of thinking like that. 

“I’m sorry,” he offered, knowing how empty the words were. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Newt assured him. “If anything, we should be giving our condolences to you.” 

Their acceptance almost made the situation worse. Forrest wished that the others would hate him or scream at him or attack him. Anything to numb the pain constantly chewing at his heart. 

“So,” Calli said, “a change of subject, how are you guys? What’s happened to you?” She acted so comfortable, like she had been friends with Emmeline, Newt, and Clara for a very long time. Forrest knew he should be glad she was at least trying to get along, but it felt weird to see the two spheres of his word combined - especially since the only constant in both was gone. 

It was the little blonde girl who answered. “Lots of stuff, mostly boring.” 

She reminded Forrest a lot of Beckett, in both looks and in actions. Maybe it was the pale hair, skin, and eyes or maybe it was the air of innocence and arrogance. 

“Who are you?” Rae jumped in, eyeing Brooke warily. 

Brooke crossed her arms. “I’m the heir everyone’s been searching for - Brooke.” The way she said it made it sound like she expected that to be obvious. 

The corners of Forrest’s lips tugged up the tiniest bit. 

“Besides,” Brooke added. “Who are you?” 

Quick introductions were made, though Forrest didn’t quite pay attention. He already knew who everyone was, plus he was too focused on trying to figure out where Beckett was. 

Had the prince met a similar fate as Coral, or was he hiding somewhere else? Forrest didn’t know Beckett well enough, despite all the time they’d spent stuck together. Beckett was guarded about his past, Forrest could give him that much. The only person he’d really opened to was Coral, and, well… 

“I thought the prince was travelling with you,” Margo interjected, snapping Forrest back to the present. 

He could practically feel the hatred and disgust rolling across the circle when Clara spoke. “The little brat of a prince decided he would be better off waiting on Baelle’s hand and foot.” 

No. 

Forrest blinked once. Twice. 

Of all the people he knew, Beckett was one of the least likely Forrest would’ve expected to turn to Baelle’s side. Sure, the prince was naive and fairly arrogant at times, but siding with Baelle? That was plain stupid. 

“When Emmeline took me to the Temple of Purity to heal me, Baelle found us,” Newt summarized, not even bothering to mask the bitterness in his voice. “She gave us a final chance to join her, and Beckett did. Long story short, he helped her torture Emmeline and nearly killed her too. His allegiance has been made clear.”

From an early age, Forrest learned to watch body language. And now, as Newt spoke about the horrors he and Emmeline had endured, Forrest studied the latter. 

Her fingers trembled slightly and her lip wobbled. Maybe it was a side effect of the tears she was silently shedding for Coral, but Forrest thought otherwise. The broken look to her eyes, the leaning on Newt for support - there was something else going on there. He made a mental note to check in on her later. 

“What about you?” Margo turned to Clara. 

The younger girl squared her shoulders, pursing her lips. “Titus and I followed the army to Elyviella and we rescued Brooke. Baelle sent the Silver Army after us, and we lost the battle.” She fingered the silver locket around her neck. A new piece of jewelry. 

“And Titus?” Forrest found himself asking, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer. 

Clara hung her head. “Dead. Sacrificed himself for me and so he could find Marlene again. We also lost Bones - an army captain. He’s … he’s in Baelle’s castle, probably being tortured as we speak.”

Forrest could tell Clara had some sort of connection to both Titus and this Bones person. If they were both gone, that explained her emptiness. It was as though the spirit was drained from her, leaving some sort of shell. Forrest already missed her energy, her spunk that set her apart from the others. 

“It’s been a rough few weeks,” Newt agreed solemnly. 

“I see you’ve recovered from your illness,” Forrest said. “Emmeline mentioned you were feeling better.” 

Newt’s expression darkened slightly, though Forrest wasn’t sure why at first. Wasn’t it good that Newt wasn’t on his deathbed anymore? 

Noticing Forrest’s confused expression, Newt explained, “My Blessing has been … replaced.” He pressed his lips together in a tight line, his refusal to say more only fueled Forrest’s questions more. 

How could a Blessing be replaced? And how did they know it was actually a Blessing? The last Forrest had heard, Newt didn’t know if he had a Blessing or Curse, and was actually leaning towards the latter. 

“When we healed him, the illness changed him,” Emmeline mumbled, face still buried in her hands. “Instead of controlling ghosts, Newt now controls death.”

Death. 

Forrest felt a shiver roll down his spine. The power over death. 

“H-how?” stuttered Calli. “No one can control death, not even Dixral herself.” She crossed her arms like she didn’t believe it. “The sorceresses were taught that death bows to no one.”

Newt shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it controlling death so much as manipulating life forces. It’s nothing.”

Certainly doesn’t sound like nothing, Forrest thought to himself. It was more likely that Newt didn’t find his new “power” as amazing as everyone else. Forrest couldn’t blame him - to kill someone was no easy task for the heart. 

Luckily, Calli seemed to relax a little now that her standards weren’t being challenged. Forrest didn’t need a fight on his hands. 

“What about Emmeline?” Morgan asked, sounding bored. “Doesn’t she have some kind of crazy magic gifts from the goddesses themselves?”

Emmeline peeked out from between her shaking hands. Her emerald eyes were puffy and she stared straight at Forrest. Her mouth opened and closed a few times. “The gifts are mediocre at best.” 

“Pfft,” scoffed Margo. “You have all twelve goddesses standing at your side.” 

Emmeline shrugged. “The gifts don’t do much.”

“They saved my life,” Newt reminded her, trying for a small smile. Emmeline only winced. 

“My gifts aren’t helpful,” she repeated, her voice firm. “Now if you all don’t mind, I’d like to get some rest. It’s been an emotionally exhausting day.” 

Without waiting for a response, she stood and beckoned for Ernest to follow her before the two disappeared towards the lines of houses. Forrest caught Newt watching her go, probably debating if he should follow her too. 

At least he can follow where she went, Forrest reminded himself. 

“It’s been rough for her,” Clara said defensively. Brooke nodded her agreement. “Baelle used the slaver dust on her and she nearly died. We had to carry her out of the castle.”

Forrest saw Newt’s fists clench a bit. Slaver dust was a terrible creation designed to incapacitate Readers for capture while paralyzing everyone else. He’d only experienced the dust once before, when Emmeline was kidnapped by slavers. He expected the memory to wake his Curse but then he remembered that his Curse was gone for good. 

No one spoke for a while. Forrest stared at the ground, glad for the presence of Bethany and Morgan beside him. You are not alone. 

The silence was broken when Rae yawned. “I think I might head to bed too. Is there anywhere we can sleep?”

Newt, Clara, and Brooke all nodded. 

“Most of the houses were destroyed in a fire,” Brooke told them, not sounding even remotely sorry. “We found a few that weren’t really damaged and set up rooms in them. If you need more stuff, just scavenge from the other houses.” 

Forrest could feel exhaustion pressing in at him. Ever since he’d taken his second swim in the river of death, he’d become tired more quickly. His nightmares were worse too. 

Yet he stayed at the fire as the others got up and left until only he and Clara remained. 

“She’s really gone,” Clara breathed as she sat down next to Forrest. “I can’t believe it… She’s not here.”

Forrest bit his lip, drawing blood. “I can’t believe it either.” 

Clara laid her head on his shoulder, and her body shook as she began to cry. “I … I didn’t want the others to see me like this,” she said through muffled sobs. “I don’t want them to see me broken.”

Forrest wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulder. “You’re not broken.”

He expected her to protest or thank him, but instead she whispered, “Why does everyone I love leave me?”

Johnny, Titus, Bones, and now Coral. Forrest didn’t know if there were more people too, but he couldn’t even begin to fathom the depth of Clara’s grief. 

“I’m here, Clara. And I will always be here. When everyone else leaves, I will stay with you.” 

Her body stilled and Forrest realized she’d cried herself to sleep. Gently, he slipped his arms under her legs and lifted her without waking her, pressing her to his chest. He carried her back to one of the houses with ease and placed her on one of the beds. 

Clara was wrong to trust the last piece of her heart with Forrest. 

After all, the last girl he’d loved was lying dead in a cold temple, her blood staining his hands.