When both men were out of earshot and Heekam had finally attained a little bit of privacy, he turned back to his charge and wrinkled his nose, eyes glinting with unshared wisdom. “Now are you willing to eat and stop this unnecessary stubbornness?”

“I truly cannot eat,” Jaelan whispered, pulling the blanket closer as a chill shook him. “I was not lying.”

“You think you cannot eat.”

“I know I cannot eat.”

“If you keep this up,” Heekam angled his brows and growled, “You’ll be sending your dear lover into an early grave. Is that what you want?”

Jaelan froze. His eyes darted to catch Heekam’s knowing gaze.

“That poor boy hasn’t been able to sleep for the past two days. And your stubborn resolve to refuse food is only adding to his already troubled thoughts.” The eunuch drawled and flicked an invisible piece of lint from his robes. “Aren’t you a selfish little Prince?”

All Jaelan could do was flap his mouth open and closed like a fish, eyes bulging out in much the same manner as a freshly caught snapper.

“What’s the matter?” Heekam folded his arms, bowl in hand as he leaned forward. “Did I say something to startle you?”

“How—my—how d-did you k-know?”

“Know what?” Heekam smirked impishly and bent closer so that the space between them was barely a hand’s distance. “That you, Jaelan of Ellos, next in line as the leader of your clan, have spread your legs wide for a man?”

Jaelan winced, disliking the way the eunuch chose to phrase it. Nonetheless, that was what had transpired. He was not one to deny the truth. With great pain, he nodded his head. Eyes unable to look upon the knowing face of this half-man.

“Do not think I condemn you for that.” He heard Heekam say with a sigh. “It is not my place to hold judgment over you for actions resulting from an emotion I will never know. All I’m saying is that if you indeed love that man, how could you deny him the peace of mind he would attain if you simply swallow a few mouthfuls?”

Jaelan blinked like an owl, face pale.

God…he was right.

This eunuch was right. He was being selfish. These last two days……all he had been was deadweight…an unhelpful package and burden to Wylen. The few times he’d awoken and been allowed to do so without falling off the horse with pain, Wylen had been constantly taking care of him. Upon the mount, he held him pressed into his front tight and secure. And when the pain proved too much to handle, it was not one of the men from their company that gratefully stole his consciousness, but Wylen.

“You’re right…” He whispered hoarsely, ashamed of himself. “I…I will try and eat.”

Feeling a little guilt for being so terribly blunt about things, Heekam wilted just a bit. Stretching out his hand, he gently patted the young warrior on the shoulder. Then when he deemed the time right, he brought the bowl back into view and drew a good helping of the stew into the wooden spoon and held it to Jaelan’s mouth.

Without qualms the young man opened his mouth and took the offering, chewing slowly. His eyes gradually lifted to look into the eunuch’s face and Jaelan soon began to wonder again how this traveler was able to figure out the relationship between himself and Wylen.

Swallowing his mouthful, Jaelan pinched his lips shut as the spoon went sailing towards his mouth.

“Jaelan.”

“I have a question.” Eyes stared up at Heekam with curiosity. Jaelan cleared his throat, pushed down nausea he felt creeping up from the pit of his stomach, and demanded the other hear him out. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That Wylen is my lover.”

“Ah,” Heekam smiled and wiggled a finger in the air before motioning to the spoon.

Sensing he was not going to receive any sort of answer unless he took the food into his mouth, Jaelan leaned forward and parted his lips.

“I have noticed after my many years of experience,” Heekam started, conveniently leaving out the part of his ‘experience’ lying within the grounds of a palace. “That when a man is completely and utterly ensnared by the emotion known as love, he becomes…a how can I put this delicately…a…um…he becomes a moron.”

That’s putting it delicately? Jaelan’s eyebrows shot upwards, mouth parted in silent surprise.

Seeing his chance, Heekam shoved another spoonful past Jaelan’s parted lips.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Heekam grumbled, although with a smile. “It is true…or else he would not have dared to jump out like a madman from the brush at five armed men on horseback. Nor would he demand a horse from said group of men or spend sleepless nights holding you and caressing your face.”

Jaelan’s cheeks burned with color.

“If you’re nervous about the others finding out,” Heekam mumbled, feeling oddly fond of this young warrior. “Then you are worrying needlessly. They are all men with keen observation skills reserved for the battlefield and not much else. None of them will be discovering your secret anytime soon and I surely will not be the one telling them. As if I need this journey to grow more difficult.”

 Jaelan smiled and then gave a little laugh, muscles relaxed. “I think I’m going to really like you.”

“Please don’t,” Heekam replied. However, he couldn’t hide the smile on his face in time, much to his own annoyance.

“But I really think I will.”

Heekam coughed, bringing his attention back to the stew. “So…how is that nausea?”

To his utter surprise, Jaelan could not feel it pressing against the sides of his throat any longer. The chill he felt crawling up and down his skin had faded as well. Amazed, he looked to Heekam, his astonishment showing clear on his expressive features. “It’s gone!”

“Well, what do you know…”

“It’s gone!” Jaelan repeated and after a quick examination of himself, felt his earlier strength having returned. Delighted, he threw the blanket off his shoulders and turned to smile at the eunuch. “I feel fine! I honestly think I’m better!”

However, the unexpected look of sheer shock on the eunuch’s face gave Jaelan pause. Concerned, he grabbed Heekam by the shoulder and gave the man a light shake.

“CROWN PRINCE!” Heekam screeched, garnering the immediate attention of their troupe. “He’s glowing! The man is glowing!”

“Jaelan!” Wylen rushed over, eyes wide in alarm. Behind him, the others followed their expressions mirroring the same shock and awe of their eunuch.

“Crown Prince?” Jaelan frowned, eyeing the men who rushed over with evident inquiry. When the guards all turned to Taemor, it allowed the half-god to deduce that the richly clad warrior was in fact royalty.

Unable to tear his gaze away, Taemor stared slack-jawed at the glowing warrior. His eyes almost doubled their size as he stood there as if transfixed to the spot.

“Crown Prince?” Wylen glanced over his shoulder to the leader of the small band, eyebrows furrowed. “May I inquire as to why your man here just called you that, Sir?”

“Only if you can explain to me why Jaelan there is glowing.” Taemor bumbled. Boots still glued to the ground and still suffering shock from seeing something one would otherwise call myth and fable.

“Very well then,” Jaelan agreed. He stood to his feet, all elegance and regal grace now that his strength had returned. His eyes locked on the Prince and he motioned with his hand to the fire, instructing the group to follow him there.

For the first time in his life, the Crown Prince found himself following orders given to him by someone other than his father. Knowing so, he still acquiesced and took a seat by the roaring blaze, brows furrowing as the dull glow emitting from Jaelan faded from existence.

Regaining his composure, the Prince cleared his throat and put on a blank expression. He needed to know who he was dealing with immediately. He never heard of anyone from the Ellos clan glowing or even possessing any godlike abilities—except for the natural-born swiftness and striking white hair.

Once they had gathered around the campfire and Heekam had sent the guards to get more wood for the fire—an excuse, and they knew it—the Crown Prince motioned with his hand, “You may start first.”

Jaelan looked to Wylen and nodded, “Since I don’t know how long my grace period will last, I will tell you what I can.” He started. “As you already know, my people are the mixed descendants of the Gods and contain the divine blood within our veins. Not too long ago, a priestess came by my tribe and announced that I possessed something no one else in my village had. Blood in a perfect state of equilibrium…half God and half-human. It is that difference…which has led me to believe that…I can glow…unlike the others of my clan. I have never seen it before or heard stories of such a thing occurring.”

“So, in other words…” Taemor murmured, eyes locked on the ethereal man. “…You don’t really know why you are able to glow.”

“Yes.”

Wylen bit his tongue. Aware that Jaelan was leaving out the prophecy and their dalliance in the cave of seven peaks on purpose. If it had been him speaking, he would have done the same. Proud, he let loose a small trace of a smile.

“Now it is your turn,” Jaelan announced, voice ringing like a bell through the night air. His eyes reflected the glowing fire in their clearness. “Who are you really?”

Taemor frowned, eyes falling to stare at the flickering fire as he collected his thoughts. At the sound of an owl’s cry, he turned his gaze back to the two young warriors and spoke. “My official name is Laemor of Dorl…and I am the Crown Prince of Deterra.” 

Both Jaelan and Wylen stilled, eyes widened in shock.

“I was called back to the palace after battling with the Heathens from the North …so I was on my way home when we ran into you.” Prince Laemor sighed and wove his fingers together. “Usually, I don’t stop like this once I’ve been called back to the palace by the King…however…I know that I must return you safely back to your people. It is on the way…and only adds three days or so more to our travel.”

“I see.” Wylen nodded and bowed his head low. “Thank you very much.”

“It’s quite alright,” Laemor gave a small smile, “It isn’t a bo—”

However, he didn’t get to finish as Jaelan gasped and fell over in his seat. His shoulder hit the ground hard as he clutched at his abdomen. The three men instantly jumped to their feet and darted to the fallen warrior.

“Jaelan!” Wylen pulled his lover into his arms, face full of fright as he watched the whites of Jaelan’s eyes appear and the eerie emerald glow return to them. “Jaelan!”

“AHHH!” Jaelan shrieked. His voice pierced through the air and echoed throughout the trees and leaves, sending the three guards rushing back to the campsite as fast as their legs could carry them.

“JAELAN!” Wylen cried out, trying to keep the thrashing warrior still in his arms as Jaelan continued to writhe and tear at his stomach. His lip trembled as perspiration began to form on his lover’s brow. “JAELAN!”

“MAAAA!” Jaelan’s back arched off the ground like a piece of bent bamboo as fists held his tunic in a grasp so tight his knuckles turned white. The heels of his boots dug into the soil creating little mounds in the Earth.

His cries pierced all those in his immediate presence to the bone with their desperation and agony. Even Heekam, who prided himself on being able to stay calm and rational, felt the pricks of panic assail him as Jaelan’s cry reached decibels unheard of. “MAAAAAAMAA!”

“JAELAN!” Wylen was beside himself, his arms holding his lover as tight as he could while tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, daring to fall. The terror of the unknown holding him by the heels and swinging him to and fro with each chilling scream that left Jaelan’s dry and parted lips.

“KNOCK HIM OUT!”

“I CAN’T! IT WILL KILL HIM IF WE DO IT TOO OFTEN!”

“HE SOUNDS LIKE HE’S DYING RIGHT NOW!”

“BUT HE’S STILL ALIVE!”

“HE’S IN PAIN!”

Out from the brush, Raygar rushed to them in his full soldier garb, a dart in his hand as he slid across the dirt and grabbed for Jaelan’s thrashing arm. With one quick movement, he stuck the long needle into the pale skin and held it steady. In less than a minute, Jaelan’s body went slack and his jerky movements ceased.

Holding his chest, Heekam swallowed difficultly and looked to his Prince, seeing for himself how perplexed the soon-to-be King was at witnessing the young warrior in such excruciating pain. Never before had he seen such horror and terror in Laemor’s face. His countenance was downright ashen. Not even on the battlefield, in front of hundreds of armed Heathen soldiers…his Prince never showed such visible signs of fear.

As the other two guards reached them, Raygar stood to his feet and bent his head down.

“How long will it take for us to reach the Ellos clan?” The Crown Prince asked after taking a shaky breath and standing to his feet as well, eyes on the Captain of his small guard.

Raygar pondered.

The skin of his brow furrowed. “I’d say about four days if we ride hard without stops. Longer if the weather gets worse.”

“Four days…” The Prince repeated, head spinning. He looked down to where Wylen was holding Jaelan in a deathly grip. As if afraid to let the man go for fear the other’s pain would return. His heart ached for the grieved warrior. “…God help us…”