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"Probably." I couldn't help but laugh.

His smile faded as he looked out the window, at the sun forever frozen in its partial eclipse. "I remember the day it stopped moving," he said quietly. "We were in the gardens—what was left of them." He drew in a shaky breath. "That was the day Aether found me in Croyg. The day everything changed."

I stayed quiet, letting him find his words.

"The gardens used to stretch for miles," he continued softly. "My mother used to say you could walk for days and never see the same plant twice. The air always smelled like earth and growing things. Like life." He took a deep breath. "But by then, everything was gray. Dead. The soil turned to dust between our fingers."

"Your parents..." I started, but wasn't sure how to finish.

"They wouldn't leave. A lot of others had left. Either to Draxon or Ravenfell." His voice had gone flat. "They kept saying the land would recover, that it always had before. They didn't understand that this was different." He picked at a loose thread on his leathers. "When the food ran out, they started eating the spoiled crops. Said we couldn't waste anything. That's what killed them in the end."

The weight of his words hung in the air.

"The worst part is..." He hesitated, wrapping his arms around himself. "Sometimes I worry I'm starting to forget things. Like what my mother's laugh sounded like, or exactly how tall the sunflowers grew. It feels like betraying them somehow."

"You're not betraying them by surviving," I said quietly. "By moving forward."

"Aren't I though?" His voice was barely a whisper. "Joining the Umbra, learning to fight... sometimes I wonder what they'd think of me now."

He stared at his hands, so young but already marked with calluses. "They were healers, you know? Well, not officially. But everyone in Croyg came to them when they were sick. My mother knew every medicinal plant in those gardens. Which leaves could bring down a fever, which roots could ease pain." A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "She used to say the land provides everything we need, if we just know where to look."

The smile faded. "But then the land started dying, and nothing she knew could fix it. I watched her try everything. Even when the plants came up twisted and wrong, she kept hoping the next batch would be different."

His voice cracked on the last word, and I fought the urge to reach out to him. I'd never truly been the best at comforting people, but something about his pain was too real—too familiar. I'd never known my parents–didn't have any memories to hold onto. And the thought of them was something I mostly avoided. But when I was younger, before I'd decided to compartmentalize so many things, tucking them away in places difficult to reach, I'd missed them. In a way of missing something you didn't know.

"Do you think it could be like that again?" he asked suddenly, cutting through my thoughts. "If we stop what's happening? If we fix things?"

The question hung heavy in the air. I wanted to tell him yes, topromise him that everything would go back to the way it was. But he deserved better than empty promises.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "But we're going to try."

Something in my heart tightened at the words—at how much I suddenly needed them to be true.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The waitingchamber felt smaller than yesterday, the stone walls pressing in as we gathered to draw lots. My muscles still ached from the combat trial, each bruise gnawing at me, reminding me how spectacularly I’d lost the day before.

Another Archival assistant stood before us, holding that same black cloth bag from yesterday. Urkin loomed behind him, betraying nothing as his eyes swept over our group. When his gaze reached me, it narrowed almost imperceptibly.

Soren's absence was notable. He was still too weak from yesterday's beating to compete in the trial today. The others tried not to look at his empty place in line, but Mira's hands were clenched at her side.

"The order of demonstration is final," Urkin's voice filled the chamber. "You will present your tether to the Council when called. Any use of abilities before your turn will result in immediate disqualification."

My stomach churned as the bag made its way down the line. I watched each contestant draw their stone, studying theirreactions. Theron's face remained impassive as he read his number, but something like satisfaction flickered in his eyes. First, then.

"How fortunate," a smooth voice came from behind me, sending a chill down my spine. "It seems we'll have plenty of time to become acquainted."

I turned to find Valkan standing closer than I'd expected, his dead eyes fixed on me with unsettling intensity. Even in the dim light, his skin seemed to glow with an unnatural vitality that made my stomach turn.

"I must admit, I find myself... intrigued. A foreign contestant in the Strykka—that's never happened before."

My gaze drifted to the upper level where the Umbra gathered. Aether stood near one of the stone columns, his golden eyes fixed on our interaction, jaw clenched. Even from this distance, I could see the shadows writhing beneath his skin.

"And yet here we both are," Valkan continued, moving closer. "Breaking tradition." His smile revealed teeth that seemed too white. "Tell me, how are you enjoying your time in Umbrathia?"

Before I could respond, Urkin's voice cut through the tension, "Candidate Theron, take your position."

I moved away from Valkan, grateful for the excuse. But his voice followed me, soft enough that only I could hear: "Perhaps we'll continue this conversation later."