Page 51

My fingers tightened around the dagger at my hip. The weight of it felt heavier now, like an anchor to a life I was choosing to leave behind.

"You think letting go of that means betraying them," Aether said, reading my thoughts with unsettling accuracy. "The people you care about there."

"Doesn't it?" I traced the emeralds with my thumb. "I'm pledging myself to a realm they see as the enemy."

"Caring for the fate of both realms isn't a betrayal." His hand moved slowly, deliberately, until it covered mine where it gripped the dagger. The touch was careful but firm. "You can fight for Umbrathia without turning against those you left behind. The two aren't mutually exclusive."

The warmth of his hand against mine seemed to carry more meaning than his words as we descended near an entrance cut directly into the rock. The sound of a gathering crowd drifted up from below, muffled but growing louder.

Before I knew it, we had landed, and he was pulling me off of Nihr, steadying me on the rock below my boots.

He motioned for me to follow him. The passage twisted downward, lit by torches that cast our shadows long against the rough stone walls. The sound of the gathering crowd echoed from somewhere ahead, but felt distant, separated by layers of rock.

Soon enough, the passage opened into a small antechamber. Two Umbra guards stood at attention beside an ornate door, beyond which I could hear the full weight of the crowd.

"This is where I leave you," Aether said, his voice neutral once more. "When they call your name, present your sacrifice."

"I got it. Go find Lael."

He met my eyes one last time, and for just a moment, I saw something crack in his carefully maintained features. But then it was gone.

"Try not to fall," he said, and turned away, leaving me alone.

The guards motioned for me to follow them, and led me to a small waiting chamber. Through the stone walls, I could hear the muffled sound of voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying.

The emerald dagger felt heavy in my hand as I paced the small space. No one had actually explained what I was supposed to do when I got out there.Present the sacrifice. It sounded a bit ridiculous and overly dramatic, but who was I to judge? At least they hadn't asked me for my blood.

Yet.

Time dragged until finally, a guard opened the door. "They're ready for you."

I followed him down a short corridor, my boots echoing against stone. Ahead, a voice boomed—Urkin's, I realized, but I couldn't make out the words.

The corridor opened into what looked like a massive underground cavern, carved entirely from black stone. The suddenspace after the cramped passage made my head spin. But it was the silence that hit me first—a sudden, crushing quiet that fell over the crowd as I emerged.

Hundreds of faces stared down from tiered seating that rose into shadows. I felt their eyes rake over my white hair. Some leaned forward, whispering to their neighbors. Others simply stared, unmoving.

At the center of it all stood some kind of altar, where Urkin waited. To his right, a line of Kalfar stood at attention, their black uniforms stark against the stone—contestants, perhaps. The ones who had gone before me. His voice faltered for just a moment as he took in my appearance.

The silence stretched. I gripped the dagger tighter and moved forward, my boots echoing far too loudly against the stone floor. Not a single face looked away. That old instinct crept up my spine. The urge to duck my head, to blend into the background until I disappeared completely. I'd spent so many years perfecting that particular skill.

But this wasn't about hiding anymore. This wasn't about staying safe.

The emerald dagger felt heavy in my hand. Another army. Another pledge. The memory of Laryk's voice whispered in my head.You're different. He'd meant it as a gift, but now the words felt like chains. How many times would I let others decide what that difference meant?

I approached the altar, trying to focus on the simple task of walking without stumbling. I looked up at the other contestants, their faces now close enough to recognize. Most wore an unreadable mask, but then I saw Lael. He looked so much older than he should have. His dark hair was slicked back, and he wore the same leathers as the rest of us. We locked eyes for a moment, and I could have sworn his mouth cracked into a smile.

"You present yourself to face the Strykka?" Urkin's voice boomed through the room, dancing off the walls.

"Yes," I breathed, feeling the weight of the entire room.

"Present your sacrifice." His eyes fell on me, and I watched the subtle narrowing of his brows. He still didn't trust me.

I lifted the dagger, its familiar weight in my palm sending a wave of memories through me. I remembered how Laryk’s emerald eyes had gleamed with satisfaction the day he saw it fastened to my chest. A blade forged in Sídhe's finest flames, beautiful and deadly—something that was entirely mine. It had been my first real possession as a member of the Guard—something that marked me as one of them, something that was entirely mine. A symbol that I belonged somewhere, that I was more than just a branded outsider. Now, laying it on this altar felt like severing another tie to my old life.

I laid the dagger on the altar, watching as the emeralds caught the dim light one last time, and I forced myself to pull my hand away.

Urkin turned to address the crowd, his voice carrying authority that seemed to fill every corner of the cavern. "Before us stand those who would give everything to serve Umbrathia. In times past, the Strykka was a path to glory, a way to prove one's worth." He paused, his eyes sweeping over the assembled nobles and military leaders. "But now, as our realm faces its greatest challenge, these brave souls offer themselves for something far darker—the survival of our realm."