5 - Eloïra: Saga of the Children of the Gods by Linda Saint Jalmes

Author:Linda Saint Jalmes [Jalmes, Linda Saint]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Saga of the Children of the Gods#5
Publisher: LSJ Éditions, T.O.
Published: 2025-05-11T22:00:00+00:00

THE COUPLE SPENT MORE than two days locked away in Cirth’s chamber, only rising to bathe in the washroom or to retrieve the meal trays Kleyda left at the door.

They made love again and again, pausing only to doze off or to learn more about each other, sharing anecdotes and stories from their respective eras. Eloïra was always careful not to reveal too much, making sure not to disrupt the chronological flow of time. For instance, she hadn't mentioned Elenwë, nor had she spoken of the journeys that had taken Awena and Diane from the future into the past.

“You have a large and loving family, and they seem exceptional, Eloïra,” Cirth remarked after listening to her stories about the Saint Clare clan.

“Yes,” she smiled, lying against his body on the massive bed, her cheek resting on his chest where his heart beat steadily. She traced lazy patterns over his bare, muscular stomach with the tips of her fingers.

They had lazily pulled a linen sheet over their hips and were savoring the gentle floral-scented breeze that drifted over their skin through the small windows. The sounds of voices and the bustle of life outside drifted in, while the afternoon was already well underway.

“You seemed surprised when I explained what a ‘clan’ is, and yet I’m just as surprised to see you so alone. Where are the people of your lineage?” Eloïra asked curiously.

“There are no clans here. Families are scattered throughout the city, and the Fëanturi coexist with the Kadwan and the Muiredach. But I am the Fëanturi of the North, just as there are Fëanturi of the East, the West, and the South. However, when we leave Galéa, the families will come together, and in time, clans will undoubtedly be born. You come from a distant era—your words confirm this for me.”

Since they had spoken of Eloïra’s existence in the future, she had sensed a change in Cirth’s demeanor. He seemed more distant, distracted. As if he were already pulling away from her.

After a long silence, Eloïra let herself speak aloud, twirling a strand of her long brown hair between her fingers, a hint of sorrow threading through her voice:

“Cirth, where do you go when silence falls between us?”

The warmth of Cirth’s hand ceased its gentle caress on her back, his fingers tensing slightly before he let out a deep sigh. He was half-reclining against a pillow propped up against the wall, and as he slid his free arm behind his head, his green gaze fell upon the heart-shaped face turned toward him.

“Lug,” he finally said in a somber tone. “His behavior has changed since you arrived.”

“And... is that a bad thing?” Eloïra asked, resting her chin on Cirth’s chest, her eyes never leaving his.

“I don’t know,” Cirth murmured, his voice tinged with fatalism. “He’s everywhere, interested in everything. The frivolity that once defined him is gone. Lug is aware of things that deeply trouble him. He hides his thoughts in my presence, and he only speaks aloud now. I have this persistent feeling that I’m dealing with another god.

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