Jaime sat at Elena's bedside in the healer's hut, the faint glow of mana lanterns and candlelight casting long, trembling shadows across her bandaged form. She slept fitfully, the rise and fall of her chest shallow but steady. Each fragile breath tethered him to hope, though fury and worry churned beneath his skin.
"I will take her to the Wellspring," he murmured, voice low, almost to himself. Coatriskie stirred inside him, the god's protests sharp and icy:
It is too soon. She is too weak. Guabancex will be furious if she senses interference.
"I don't care," Jaime said firmly, pressing his palm to Elena's hand. "I will not let her die while waiting for divine caution. If she lives or dies, it will be in my hands, not theirs."
Coatriskie's laughter rumbled inside him, deep as the tide:
Mortals are far too headstrong. Very well, but beware the serpent's wrath. It may hurt her, and there is nothing you can do.
By midday, Jaime gathered the elders, the family, and trusted allies in the cathedral. Candles flickered along the vaulted ceiling as he explained the plan, emphasizing protection, care, and timing. The elders murmured among themselves, concerned yet swayed by the urgency in Jaime's tone.
Juan stepped forward, channeling Gueyaba. His eyes glowed as golden pollen swirled around his hands. "I can clear the path," he said. "The jungle, the traps, the obstacles- they will be gone. By tomorrow, the way will be safe."
Aurora and Señora Behike exchanged worried glances. "Even with this path, she must remain still," the Behike cautioned. "One misstep could reopen wounds, tear stitches, or worse. We must stabilize her fully first."
Jaime's jaw clenched, frustration flashing across his face. Divine caution, mortal delays… he thought. "We do what we must," he said quietly, "even if the gods tremble at our persistence."
Later, in the healer's hut, Jaime crouched beside the cot, staring at Elena's sleeping form. "Why can't she be freed like Niegal was?" he wondered out loud.
Aurora knelt beside him, her hands warm against his arm. "Because she is a vessel," she said softly, eyes grave. "If Guabancex leaves her, even for a moment… she dies. The lightning that healed Niegal, it passed through her. She begged the gods to save him from a curse that would have killed him, and they answered through her. But it should have killed her."
Jaime's fingers clenched around hers, eyes wide with disbelief. "She… she sacrificed everything?"
Aurora nodded. "Yes. Her life. Then, to return, she accepted the vesselhood of Guabancex. Even that came with a cost- she and Niegal were bound to sire an heir, Phineus, as part of that mortal-god union. She bore all of it… and now, she lies here, and he…" Her voice faltered.
Anger and grief flared in Jaime's chest. "For him? For him to betray her like this?"
Aurora's hand rested over his. "Have faith. If you cannot in the gods, then have faith in Elena. She has survived far worse, and she is strong."
Coatriskie laughed from within Jaime, a low rumble:
Mortals are too stubborn. Too headstrong. You will protect her, yes- but you cannot predict the ways of gods.
Jaime tightened his jaw. "Then I'll be her strength. Gods be damned."
The following day, Juan staggered into the sanctuary, blood streaking his face and clothes, nearly collapsing into Esperanza's arms.
"They're in the jungle… the cult… Serpiente," he gasped. "Niegal… I saw him… with them…" His body shuddered, exhausted and broken.
Alejandro bolted toward the healer's hut, panic spiking his steps. There, he found chaos, Aurora and Behike staring in stunned disbelief-
Lightning split the air, illuminating the hut in brilliant white. Elena was gone. Guabancex had taken her, and Jaime barely held on as Coatriskie seized his body, driving him forward in pursuit. The room shimmered with residual energy, the scent of ozone and rain thick around them, bodies trembling as divine power tore the air.
Alejandro rallied the remaining forces, hacking a path through the jungle. Cultists fell before their blades, screams echoing through the trees. Every step brought them closer, their faces tight with determination and dread.
Finally, they arrived at the Wellspring of Coabey. Silent, still, and empty.
No Elena. No Jaime. Only the rippling surface of the sacred waters, catching the first light of evening.
The wind whispered through the surrounding trees, carrying the faintest trace of violet lightning across the surface. Something had gone ahead, something beyond mortal grasp.
And the storm was only beginning.