A scheme growing in the shadows

Chapter 45: Infection

“Kayn… do you even understand what you’re accusing him of?” Cyffor’s voice cracked like a whip, louder than he intended, his face caught between outrage and disbelief. His hooves stamped once against the dirt, betraying his agitation.

“I don’t have solid proof,” I admitted, forcing my voice to stay calm even though doubt tugged at the edges of my mind. “But the timing doesn’t add up. Chiron’s sudden disappearance, Vod rising to power immediately after…it’s too much of coincidence. Too convenient. And there’s something else I noticed…” My words trailed off, the uncertainty gnawing at me.

Noor tilted her head, studying me with those sharp, fox-like eyes of hers. She had learned by now how my mind stitched patterns together. “You know…” she murmured, sly but with an undertone of unease, “he did mention us being chosen. That’s not public knowledge. At least, it shouldn’t be.”

“Exactly.” I snapped my fingers slightly, leaning toward her. “How could he possibly know that?”

Iris crossed her arms, her voice blunt and no-nonsense. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but even with all your fancy senses, you satyrs can’t just look at someone and know they’re chosen, right?”

Cyffor and Entinos exchanged a loaded glance before Entinos finally answered, his tone firm. “No. We can only sense someone who belongs to this plane of existence. Nothing more.”

“Then who told him?” Aerys asked softly. Her voice trembled. Not loud nor accusatory, but heavy with a dawning dread. The way she said it made the question feel like a shadow settling over us.

“There’s only one kind of beings who would know.” My own words felt colder as they left my mouth, the truth forming with awful clarity.

“The Erebosians,” Iris muttered, spitting the name out like poison.

Entinos’s stoic mask faltered for the first time. His ears twitched, and his hand curled into a fist. “Wait. No… As much as I despise Vod, he wouldn’t stoop that low. An alliance with them is beyond reckless, it’s madness.”

“There’s no one else who could pull this off,” I pressed, the certainty burning stronger inside me. “Especially removing Chiron from the board. This has their stench all over it.”

“If what you say is true,” Cyffor barked, trying to mask the crack of fear in his voice with authority, “then Vod must stand trial. He has defiled the balance.”

“By the gods!” Ikaro’s voice cut in suddenly, sharp and almost panicked. His eyes lit up in that way they did when his brain started racing faster than his mouth. “It all makes sense now!”

We all turned toward him at once.

“What is it?” Aerys asked quickly, her voice urgent but still gentle, as though coaxing truth from him.

Ikaro pointed a finger at the ground, then at Cyffor, practically bouncing on his heels. “Back at that tree, we saw the dead crops, remember? The rotting fruits?”

“Yeah,” Iris said, brows furrowing. “But what does that have to do with Vod? Crops die all the time.”

Ikaro shook his head furiously. “No, Iris. That’s the point! Cyffor, answer me honestly. The clans’ last harvests… they’ve been failing, haven’t they?”

Cyffor hesitated, but his silence was already an answer. “…Yes. And not just crops. The cattle, too.”

Ikaro’s expression hardened. “And the Recniq? How badly have they been hit?”

The satyr frowned, confusion flickering across his face as he searched his memory. “Now that you mention it… they haven’t. Not at all, in fact. They’ve been providing for the others more than ever these past weeks.”

“That’s not a coincidence.” Ikaro’s tone dropped lower, darker. “That’s a setup.”

My chest tightened as I looked him with a dreaded look. “Ikaro… what are you trying to say?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he slipped his hand into his bag, muttering something under his breath. His sister’s eyes narrowed as she noticed.

“Don’t tell me…” Iris stepped forward, glaring. “Are you seriously carrying rotten fruit around in your bag?”

“Trust me,” he shot back, annoyed but focused. “This is important.”

He pulled the object out carefully, wrapped in a folded cloth. When he unrolled it, the smell hit first… a sour, acrid stench that made my stomach turn. Even before I saw it, I felt something wrong emanating from the thing, an unnatural vibration crawling at the edge of my senses. The apple lay in his palm, its skin blackened and pitted with veins of sickly green, as if rot had grown roots that pulsed faintly beneath its flesh. “This,” Ikaro said grimly, “is not natural.”

Noor stepped closer, her teasing mask slipping for once as she stared at the fruit. Her nose wrinkled, and for a heartbeat she looked genuinely unnerved. “What…? Impossible. This reek of mana.” She reached out, hesitated, then touched it lightly with her fingertips. A faint crackle of energy ran through the air. Noor’s eyes widened. “Someone used magic on this. But it’s not just magic…” Her voice faltered, rare for her. “There’s alchemy in it too.” She pulled her hand back quickly, shaking it as if the corruption lingered on her skin. “Whoever did this isn’t some hedge-witch or apprentice. This is refined. Deliberate. Whoever made this wanted the forest to **** on it.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. The apple sat between us like a cursed artifact, the stench of it seeming to spread wider, heavier, the longer we looked.

“Stop for a second.” Aerys lifted both hands as if to slow the conversation itself, her voice soft but urgent. “So… wait. You’re saying someone is poisoning the forest? On purpose? But why…why would anyone do that?”

“Control.” Entinos muttered, his tone low and heavy, like the word itself tasted like ash. Everyone turned toward him. “They want us broken, dependent. Slaves to their will.”

“Who?” Iris asked bluntly, her hand tightening around the hilt of her knife as if she already knew the answer but needed to hear it spoken aloud.

Entinos’s jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to his old companion, his voice like stone grinding against stone. “It's true, Vod. He’s betrayed us. He’s made a deal with the Erebosians for the power of Egosea.”

“No.” Cyffor’s voice cracked sharp, but it trembled at the edges. He grabbed his forehead, shaking his head as if he could physically fling the words out of existence. “No, no… this can’t be. I don’t like Vod, but what you’re accusing him of…it spits in the face of everything the balance stands for. If Vod truly did this… if he allied with them…” His breath hitched, and he pressed his fist to his chest, shaking. “Then he will pay. But you must prove it first, Entinos. You must.”

Entinos stepped forward, fury blazing in his eyes, and shoved a finger into his old friend’s chest. “Are you blind, Cyffor? Can’t you see the cards already on the table?! Vod and the Recniq have captured Chiron with Erebosian help. He sold us out for his cursed crown!”

Cyffor met his stare, his own eyes wet with anguish, his voice breaking even as he raised it. “And what do you expect me to do? Tear him down with no proof? Condemn Egosea to chaos based on suspicions? I won’t! I can’t!” He was shaking now, his breath ragged. “If I do that, then I become the betrayer. Don’t you see? We have nothing left but the balance, without it, we are nothing!”

The two satyrs locked eyes. The silence between them was sharper than any blade.

Finally, Cyffor wrenched his gaze away, his voice low and pained. “Bring me proof. Find Chiron. Anything solid, and the clans will refuse Vod’s ritual. Without that… I have no power to stop him.”

“What if we do find Chiron?” I asked, stepping into the tension like a wedge between them. “You told us yourself, the Egosea would have felt his ****. That means he must be alive. If we bring him back, would that be enough?”

Cyffor’s lips pressed tight, then he gave the barest nod. “Yes… yes, that would be more than enough. But you have no idea where he is.”

Ikaro smirked, breaking the tension like a spark of reckless light in a dark room. “Do you know who you’re talking to? We’ll find him. One way or another.”

I squared my shoulders, letting my voice carry with conviction. “Then it’s decided. We’ll find Chiron, and we’ll uncover every shadow Vod has thrown over Egosea. If an Erebosian walks these woods, I’ll sense him. And when I do, he won’t succeed.”

Cyffor looked at me a long moment, his eyes searching mine for something…resolve? Truth? maybe hope. At last, he exhaled a heavy sigh, shoulders sagging under a weight too great for one soul to bear. “Very well. I’ll return to Egosea. I’ll dig where I can, listen where I must. But before I go, Entinos… there’s something you need to know.”

Entinos tilted his head, wary. “What is it?”

“It’s about the Rhaadkat. Vod… he exiled them. Drove them from Egosea.”

The words struck Entinos like a hammer. His breath caught, his chest heaving once before his face hardened into pure, burning ire. “Where?” His voice was barely above a growl.

“Last I heard,” Cyffor said carefully, “they set camp near Diomedes. Vod named the Recniq the sole protectors of Egosea moving forward.”

Entinos’s fist slammed into the nearby tree with such **** that bark and splinters exploded outward. He pressed his forehead against the trunk, trembling with rage, before turning back, eyes lit with fire.

“Go, Cyffor,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Do what you must. I’ll do the same.”

For a long moment, Cyffor stood there, then he raised a fist to his chest, tapping it twice in solemn salute. Entinos mirrored the gesture, the motion heavy with years of brotherhood, fractured but not yet shattered. Without another word, Cyffor turned and walked away, his silhouette swallowed by the forest shadows.

“Guess we know where we’re headed next,” Ikaro said with a crooked grin, trying to break the grim silence.

Entinos drew in a sharp breath, ready to speak, but I cut him off before he could finish. “No. You’re not going alone. We’re coming with you. That’s an order.”

His eyes flicked to mine, searching, testing. For the briefest second, something shifted there…acceptance, maybe even respect. Slowly, he nodded.

“Very well, Kayn.”

I turned to the others, my voice firm. “Everyone, gather your things. We move for Diomedes at dawn. And when we get there, we’ll tear this scheme apart at its roots.”