Page 20 of A Broken Promise (the Freckled Fate #1)

20

T he deck was almost empty, with just a few occasional workers walking by. Large pillars of steam rose high into the dark sky. It was surprisingly warm for the night. The Kinderby River, almost stagnant, stretched far and wide.

My entire body ached from the brutal exercise and feeding regime Priya instilled. She was ruthless; from dawn until late night, we spent training. I was her first ever apprentice and she’d proclaimed that she “doesn’t deal in failure,” so I had no choice but “to step it up,” because truly, I was weak. Even if my mind was eager, my stomach wasn’t; I wretched my guts after almost each workout. Priya, though filled with utmost disgust, sent encouragement from a healthy distance away from my spilled intestines.

“Lighten up, Freckles,” she said. “It might not be better tomorrow. But I promise you, it will be in time.”

And I believed that. Relying on that simple truth, I pushed myself past the embarrassment because for the first time in years, I had a clear goal.

Exhausted, I spent the last few nights completely unconscious, but today I couldn’t sleep. Overtaken by the nightmares, one after another, loud clangs of armor and metal, blood and fire consumed my mind. Screams of unfamiliar people still rung deep in my ears. I knew it was a dream, probably brought up by exhaustion thanks to Priya’s daily gruesome training, and yet my whole body still quivered each time I closed my eyes.

I would eventually let go of the soul-crushing sounds, forget the screams, the falling ash from never ending fire—but it would take time.

Time seemed to be the only currency life took.