Page 65 of A Simple Truth (the Freckled Fate #2)

64

FINNLEAH

L arge droplets of water landed on my face, soaking through my hair and my leathers as the relentless storm raged for what felt like an eternity. I raised my head up to the gray sky, watching the dark clouds lazily go by as streams of water poured out of them.

Was the rain always so cold? I wondered.

I stood like this once, back in the Rock Quarries, watching the rain fall as the dust around me settled. I vividly remembered the feeling of relief that those drops of rains brought to my brutally chapped lips and sunburnt skin. I got two lashings for it that day, for taking those few seconds away from work, for staring up. Yet, I had never noticed how cold the rain was.

The sizable drops collected in my outstretched, muddy palm. The all-consuming flames surrounding us now reflected in them like in a mirror.

It rained after Tuluma died, pouring similarly to now.

A detail I had forgotten, yet now remembered.

In fact, I remembered it all.

The memories that were hidden for so long.

The memories that crept beneath the shadows, terrorizing me for years.

I looked, and I remembered.

Though the man I had burned this morning was male, I had somehow still heard her voice, her screams, in my ears.

I turned my palm down, letting the drops fall to the muddied ground.

I no longer looked away from those recollections. Instead, I stared back.

Commotion echoed in my ears as bursts of fire, shields, and exhausted warriors flashed before me. We were losing; already battered and beaten.

All of the Ten were fighting like lionesses, as if their own lives and the lives of their families depended on it. Even then, it wouldn’t be enough. We would leave this field defeated.

I looked down the large cliff at the giant rock as the ocean waves crashed into it. There, amidst the storm, thrashing in the wind stood the untouchable red flag.

“Distract Gideon!” I shouted to the exhausted Lulu running past me. “Cover for me!” I yelled then to Ioanna as she sent a few more spheres out, fighting the commanders; she hesitantly nodded.

With that, I shielded myself as I started walking, my steps turning quickly into a sprint. Mud splattered against my boots as I ran as fast as I possibly could until I reached the very end of the island.

And then I jumped off the cliff.

I wasn’t planning on dying today.

Yet now, rapidly falling through the air, soon to face the stone-like water, I wondered if deep inside, I still wished for Death to be my reprieve. Perhaps, I would always live with that thought in my head, always there like the scars on my wrists.

A part of me would rather die right now than live another day underneath that self-destructing shame.

Maybe if I drowned today, crashed to death against the ice-cold waves of the stormy ocean, I’d no longer feel guilty.

Guilty for staying and guilty for leaving.

I used to think that grief was the strongest emotion. But now?

Guilt.

Guilt for surviving and guilt for wanting to die. Guilt for having powers and guilt for not using them before. Guilt for feeling happy and guilt for not, guilt for falling in love, and guilt for leaving the past behind.

Guilt.

Guilt.

Guilt .

Guilt that riddled every cell, every bone in my body, eating me alive like a swarm of bugs on a decaying carcass.

I straightened my legs, gasping for the last bits of air before my body plummeted deep below the surface, the sea swallowing me entirely.

The ice-cold water of the Northern Ocean instantly pierced me down to my marrow, sheer survival taking over my mind as my thoughts quieted, focusing only on propelling my legs and arms through the mass of water to the top.

My lungs burned as the little air that I had expired. I’d never swam in deep waters like this, and I didn’t dare look down to the dark blue void below. The salt water stung my eyes, but I stared up where small, almost nonexistent rays of light danced.

My lungs shrank in agony. Here, I should panic. Here, I should drown and die.

And yet, my mind was tranquil as I pushed my arms up, closing in on the bleak surface above. I fought the urge to gasp for breath, letting water fill my lungs.

I was a warrior.

I was a survivor.

And sometimes that meant surviving my own feelings that were attempting to kill me.

Even then, I’d live.

With one last push, my face broke the surface, frantically gasping for air before another wave covered it. The next time, I managed to stay afloat, filling my lungs with relief as I swam through the rain towards the scattered rocks.

I dared to glance back to the top of the cliff. All of the Ten and all of their opponents, now surrounded by the stunned crowds, stood on the edge, watching me.

There, between them all, stood the General, his ancient eyes as piercing as ever as if he silently asked,

Are you hurt? Are you okay?

Those are two different questions, my eyes replied. But I am not hurt. Remember? I have a tendency to jump off cliffs, General.

He nodded with acceptance, his eyes never leaving my figure as another large wave sent me underwater. I swam as fast as I could, fighting the rain and the waves to stay above the surface.

A stroke. A push. A breath. Again and again, until my hands clasped the nearby rock and my frozen, shaking feet found footing on the small, seaweed-covered trail of rocks hiding underwater, leading to the island. I carefully climbed, slipping just a few times against the slimy stones.

My whole body shook, and my teeth clattered, but I managed to reach the thick, metal pole with the soaking wet flag. A large, red heat wave exploded from the flag the moment I touched it, signaling the end of the Destroyer War Games. Even as the waves crashed into the rocks, covering me in icy drops, I could hear the muffled roaring of the crowds, thrilled by our win.

I hoped they would remember this moment.

I hoped that they would remember this and not what I was about to do.