Soteria

[Tristan]

Tepid waters swirled, but Nimeda was contemplative while Tristan boiled inside. Trolls, wolves. Both demanded to shape his mind, and both would fail. All this emotion built a pressure in his chest that frightened him. He gazed down at her and the heartfelt affection pooling in her eyes, but his thoughts were tugged toward distant shores until the stroke of her fingers flared ashes long dead. He felt like he was being torn in half. His jaw clenched. Fists balled. He heard what she said, but the graze over his heart could not douse what stirred. Love couldn’t undo what was done. His eyes squeezed shut, flashes skimming hot over the surface. Green eyes lit the dark. Hungry teeth snarled. Blood dripped from open jaws.

Only when the tug of his beard pulled to the point of pain did the fog part. Her words sizzled at first, but quickly fizzed to nothing before understanding could claw into his mind. Nobody would tell him what to do, despite their good intent. It grated, and on instinct, rebellion bubbled within. But he didn't push Nimeda aside. Although the risk hung over their heads.

She was right about one thing. His uncle intervened into lives not his to control. They had to speak. As Tristan took Nimeda’s hand, the world shifted in unison. The trollstone writhed in his mind. It wasn’t until icy waters swarmed their bodies that he suddenly worried what it was he would see when they climbed to shore.