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I kept my eyes shut and my body still as I let myself fully wake.

Whatever had put me to sleep had been strong, but despite that, I had regained some semblance of consciousness sooner than I imagined I was supposed to.

Still, it was better to appear asleep until I was fully functional so that I might gain the upper hand if necessary.

I was still unsure whether the mist was a device employed by the attacker to mask his escape, or if it had been scheduled to be released regardless with the beginning of the next trial.

With each moment that passed, my muscles grew taut as the memory of all that happened before I was put to sleep returned. Guilt held my chest in its vicious grip, its talons entwined into my ribs like a wicked monster waiting to devour me from the inside out.

If it weren’t for Ace tearing out the chip that inhibited my magic, then Zane and many more would have died from the punch that had been poisoned the night before.

I didn’t know when Zane had become someone close to me—someone I cared about—but he had.

His eccentric behaviour had gnawed its way in and there was no getting rid of him now.

I’d healed as many of the poisoned Potentials as I could but the punch had worked too quickly.

Far too fast for my magic to fight on its own.

Eventually, my magic had been exhausted.

I hadn’t been able to do anything to stop death creeping towards Fallon’s sister.

There had been far too much blood, and I was too tapped out of magic to stop the flow.

I wanted to believe her life was in fate’s hands and that perhaps she still had a chance, yet I knew it was only wishful thinking.

Logic didn’t care how much I hoped Fallon wouldn’t have to endure seeing Victoria die in her arms. When I’d left, it was clear Victoria’s passing was imminent.

Neither fate nor time had been on her side, and she would have taken her final breath alone with Fallon in the auditorium.

A sharp pain pierced my chest at the thought.

It was strange how even fleeting moments could shift perspectives entirely.

If someone had asked me a few months ago if I’d feel anything other than relief over Victoria Auger’s death, or if I’d feel guilt for not being able to heal her, I would have answered a firm no.

It would have been a quick reply with no room to waiver; solid as a stone pillar.

Yet here I was, feeling like I failed not only Fallon but Victoria, too.

More names to add to the list of people I had let down.

Anger continued to rise at how close the others and I had been to catching the hooded attacker. He’d slipped through our fingers like the mist that had knocked us unconscious, and all that time we were chasing him, Fallon was all alone with her dying sister. It was beyond unfair.

Yet, those running the trials didn’t care about my anger or any other feelings or needs.

They didn’t care about anyone. The purpose of the Terrulian Trials was to seek out the next monarch.

The Overseer and Masters wouldn’t let anything get in the way of finding that one person who could survive every relentlessly horrific thing they threw at us.

The thing was, humans, like all living things, needed time to recover.

Physically, obviously, but mentally too.

In many cases, the unseen damage was the most crucial to the health and well-being of a person.

Without adequate care, it didn’t matter the physical shape; things could go downhill pretty quickly if the mind was unwell.

The Overseer and Masters didn’t prescribe to that logic. They didn’t follow any logical reasoning at all, only the path that caused the most trauma. It was a sure-fire way of crowning a madman of their own making.

This fact had me pissed.

My jaw ached as I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists, the rage inside me now almost at boiling point, eager to lash out.

I was fucking done.

Done with knowledge constantly beyond my reach.

Done with being tortured and abused.

Done with watching those close to me get hurt and not being able to do anything.

Done with waiting.

Done with being the nice guy.

I was fucking done.

In my eagerness for revenge against the hooded attacker, I’d dismissed the presence of the mist. A stupid decision that went against everything I was and believed in.

That was what Fallon did to me—she made me irrational.

Yet whilst the attacker may have gotten away; an understanding had solidified in me.

Fallon and the guys were what mattered in these trials and at the academy, and if that meant being irrational, then I didn’t want to have another rational thought.

My arms itched now; the exposed skin irritated by the soggy dirt I realised I was lying in. My pants and t-shirt were soaked, the wetness seeping up my sides. Yet I didn’t move. Instead, I stared up at the smoky purple sky and allowed myself to feel the anger coursing through my veins.

I wasn’t sure whether it was night or day, the thick clouds above hid any sign of blue or sunshine.

But I knew that time had passed since we’d been unconscious.

The air was cold and wet and smelled of ash mixed with something sweet I didn’t recognise.

It reminded me of winter… but without snow or rain.

Rising onto my elbows, I took note of my surroundings beyond the sky above and instantly regretted the decision.

My stomach dropped. It wasn’t the dirt making my skin itch.

“Fuck!” I barked. I jumped to my feet and dusted myself down, shaking my body desperately to remove the tiny crawling bugs.

I fought back rising vomit, gagging at the knowledge that those bugs had been on me for an unclear amount of time.

I didn’t even want to think about how long I’d been knocked out and lying amongst them, or where they could have possibly crawled along or in. I shuddered.

The sickening crunch of bugs under my feet had me hurry away from my waking spot until I heard the crunch of gravel underfoot instead.

My eyes adjusted and I saw rows of hedges formed walls around me, directing my path.

There was no sign of the others, nor any other Potential.

As far as I was aware, I was alone. For how long that would be the case, I had no idea.

Judging by my surroundings, I deduced this was the Trial of the Mind, which meant that I needed to keep my wits about me more than ever.

A cool breeze blew by, brushing up against my arms and rustling the leaves to reveal bright crimson beneath their dark red tops, making the hedges appear as though they were blood-speckled.

I continued along the path, taking multiple turns and retracing my steps at dead ends.

Instantly, the word ‘maze’ came to mind.

I mean, why else would there be hedged pathways?

I reached out a hand, running my fingers along the wall to my right as I continued.

My senses were on alert after the bug bed with every movement and sound distinct.

The crush of the small stones beneath my boots, the light breeze that fluttered the hedge leaves, my breath as it passed through my lips, and even the shifting fabric of my loose-fitting trousers with my movement seemed magnified.

My first instinct was to find Fallon and the others.

If I was going to survive this trial, I needed to be in a group with the people I trusted to watch my back.

I had no idea how to locate them but finding my way out of the maze was my first priority.

The Overseer would be pulling out all the stops in this trial to test not only our knowledge but our problem solving too.

Thankfully, I was confident in my ability to succeed in both.

If I had to guess, it had only been a few hours since we’d celebrated what should have been a reprieve after the second trial.

We had deserved a chance to relax and unwind and reconnect to the good parts of ourselves; the pieces that were slowly being eroded by this place.

We trusted that we would be given time to rest and mend after such ordeals.

How wrong we had been.

Even if we had been given the time to recuperate, the murders across the grounds kept everyone on edge anyway.

They were a constant reminder that no one was safe.

In the trials, death was inevitable, yet in the academy, we were supposed to be shielded to some extent.

Fights and bullying behaviour were expected as long as the Potentials remained breathing, and their heart still beat in their chest. We were otherwise allowed to torment each other to our heart’s content.

It was the smallest of graces given from the ordeal of fighting for a crown during the trials.

At least, that was the way things were supposed to be until the bodies started appearing. That speck of safety had been stolen.

The academy was not immune to the outside world and its politics at play.

There was so much more happening beyond a royal title being fought for.

This was only made clearer by the Potentials falling victim to some unknown assassin while our guards were down and framing Fallon for the crime.

But nothing remained a secret forever. Until the assassin was found and their employer discovered, we would no doubt witness more murders outside the trials. Victoria would not be the last victim.

This thought reminded me… I stuffed my hand into my pocket, retrieving a small silver coin.

I turned it over, examining the symbol on one side: a circle with a cross in the middle.

It looked familiar, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen it before.

The hooded attacker had dropped it whilst fleeing and I’d quickly snatched it up.

I didn’t know what it meant, but it was a clue I would investigate as soon as this trial was over.