Page 64 of Death’s Kiss (The Order of the Tide Raiders #1)

It’s also no secret that this is when most blood is split. There are no rules once inside those famed kórallian walls. Providing us with the opportunity to settle any and all scores. Rumor was the last time The Vault arose, when TideLord Dolion won, the sea was stained scarlet for a week.

The aura of my rabid power has me chafing at the bit as I storm over the bridge. Its heightened presence is also no doubt why I was able to leave Skelm’s quarters in such a fit of rage. There is some reasoning behind him forcing kratosbane down my throat before bestowing punishment.

Herse notices my furious approach towards them before the others and whistles at Kleio in warning. My second pauses her instruction with Greer and Davina, allowing Nimra to take over.

Kleio deftly grabs two second-hand broadswords from the pile of various weapons they’ve dragged out here with Preceptor Oplon’s blessing.

My vibrating fingers struggle to unbutton my too-tight jacket until I finally just rip it straight off my body. Readjusting the gold pin and securing back my hair in a huff, I swipe one of the outstretched hilts from my second’s hand.

Kleio follows me wordlessly to the chalky, grass-outlined ring we’ve begun using again for Brek affinity training.

Circling each other, I spy the almost invisible lines of concern etched into my second’s brow in the fading sunlight.

Visible relief flattens those creases after she’s studied me enough to find I’ve come back in one angry piece.

Then Kleio lunges.

Her weapon swings in a broad arc and I grunt while meeting her with my own identical blade, deflecting the attack.

The impact of our clash reverberates through my arms but I hold firm and dislodge her.

Kleio doesn’t give me a moment’s rest before pushing forward again with relentless alternating strikes.

This is exactly what I need and the look in Kleio’s eyes tells me that she's very aware.

“So I can assume that went well?” My second is able to tease, now that she’s certain I haven’t been physically reprimanded.

I dance backwards, parrying each blow as fast as I can. Blood pumps rhythmically in my ears and my mind begins to clear, sharpening for the task at hand.

“Oh yeah, a real tea party in there.” I snort.

With a sweeping motion of my palm across the ground, I send a wave of cold towards my second. Ice manifests rapidly, forming a slick surface with the once-dewy grass beneath her feet .

Kleio’s affinity springs to life, shimmering around her and neatly dispersing the ice. I've got plenty of energy to spare. I will a bitter chill into my weapon, causing hoarfrost to creep along its blade, then I swing for Kleio again. This time with more precision.

Her power slams up like a wall between us. My strike bounces off the barrier harmlessly but a faint crack forms beneath.

"So what did he have to say?" Kleio presses. Her wall of force burns a brighter shade of violet, pushing me back towards the outer white ring.

“Thirty,” I growl with a sharp exhale.

My second drops her shield and pounces for me again.

Sidestepping her intention, I pivot and thrust my palm towards the ground.

A barrier of frigid spikes emerges between us as I move backwards.

Kleio’s power reappears before her approaching figure and extends outwards as I regain my footing.

She throws me a quizzical look before effectively shattering the brutal icicles separating us.

“Thirty fucking points is all that I earned from the last pillar task,” I explain before launching a flurry of strikes, each one aimed to test the limits of her shield.

In the aftermath of Captain Namak's unexpected death, I didn't think much about my current scoring. It seemed too trivial to worry about in the wake of watching all of his crew members and Dhara stumble about like their own hands had been cut off.

It's been more painful than I could have anticipated to observe.

“Well—what were the other scores?” Kleio, ever the optimist, ventures as she blocks my rapid assault with skill.

Her affinity's protection wraps tightly around her body to absorb the impact of each blow. Ironically, my second has had more practice than just about anyone else when it comes to resisting me and my affinity’s force.

“Fucking better than that. We’ll be going into the last pillar ranked fifth .” The word leaves a sour taste on my tongue and the angry line between my brows deepens .

She retaliates my incessant walloping with a powerful downward swipe, which I barely manage to parry. My weapon arm starts throbbing from the force of her attempt and my teeth press together in determination.

Kleio starts up in her encouragement, “We can work with that. Fifth isn’t—”

“Fifth is fucking atrocious,” Herse calls, cutting off Kleio’s budding words of positivity from the other side of the chalky boundary. “ Damn Boreas. What were the requirements for scoring this round? See what captain could piss off their grand preceptor the least?”

Despite the anger riddling my veins, Herse’s bluntness draws a real laugh from my lips.

“More or less,” I shout back. My thoughts shift to Skelm’s long list of reasons for docking me points. I avoid the impulse to glance over at where Nimra is currently drilling Davina.

Kleio gives our third a blatant look of chiding, to which Herse rolls her violet eyes. Using the momentary distraction, I charge for my second, swinging my broadsword in a wide arc. Her energy shield fractures slightly under the pressure of my frigid blade and I spot an opening at last.

“She’s right, Kleio. It is atrocious. Fifth place is not good.

I’ve been ranking in the top three since this whole thing started and now—when we need it most—” I grunt with renewed effort while thrusting my weapon forward, aiming for the identified chink in her armor.

“I somehow manage to fuck us all the way down to fifth.”

Her affinity shatters with a resounding ‘ crack ’ and Kleio stumbles back, momentarily exposed.

I don’t hesitate. Unleashing a torrent of icy shards, I send them flying her way.

She reacts quicker than I anticipated, raising a smaller, more concentrated shield to deflect each one of the glass-like pieces of frozen evening dew.

"You've gotten better," I praise between panting breaths, throwing a glance of approval at my second.

Kleio grins, a hint of pride in her eyes. “We’ve been practicing. ”

Then the concentrated ball of power in her hands explodes outward in a blinding sweep of violet energy. Its detonation forces me to scramble backwards to avoid being slammed across the white ring. I steady myself from the impact of her blast, watching as Kleio also regains her balance.

Questions swim plainly back and forth through those watchful eyes and I shake my head knowingly. “He refused to divulge anything regarding Captain Namak’s death. Only the Cardinal East is aware of what occurred and I was very thoroughly informed we are not privy to anything more.”

Sweat slides down from my hairline to coat my neck and pool at the base of my collarbones. My hands rest on my hips as refreshingly cool evening air works its way in and out of my lungs in a heavy pattern of recovery.

“That was also after he deemed it necessary to remind me he would use my skin for a cape if any of us dared to embarrass him before King Nereus and the Driftwood Court.”

Greer lets out a low whistle from where she and the others have joined Herse to watch and listen in on our brawl. “Gotta love that man’s charm. Always so colorful with his threats.”

“An artist, that one,” Prisca agrees.

“I think he prefers to be called a poet. You should ask him though, to be sure,” Nephthys chimes in.

I might have laughed along with the others if my mood hadn’t clouded over so entirely. Nodding to Kleio, we ready ourselves to go again. That blast of energy cost her. I watch the strain of using so much power sliding down the sides of her temples, soaking the front of her undershirt.

My blade glows a pale chilling blue before I blitz my second one last time. She raises up her wall again but it’s clearly weakened. My weapon slams down with all the pent-up frustration my meeting with Skelm left writhing inside.

Kleio’s affinity shatters beneath me once more but this time she isn’t quick enough with her blade to meet mine in deflection. The sword in my grip halts just centimeters from her shoulder. We stand there for a moment, panting and grinning at one another, before slowly dropping our weapons.

As the adrenaline rush from our fight begins to fall, so does my face. I swallow thickly, my head hanging low with the weight of self-condemnation.

"Hey," Kleio says, clapping me on the shoulder. “It’s not like fifth place is even going to matter. Don't give me that look—it won’t .”

I know her heartfelt words are just an effort to retrieve me from my brewing disposition. Like she’s my own sort of personal life raft. I can almost feel her nearby churning thoughts as she contemplates this new problem.

Kleio’s next words are spoken slowly, so there isn’t a chance of misunderstanding. “It actually won’t matter. Because we just so happen to have the best helmsman in all four cardinals.”

My head lifts slowly from where it previously studied the snowflake-dusted grass. When meeting my second’s gaze, I discover a very familiar mischievous light cavorting about her eyes. Blinking once I tilt my head to study her, I honestly can’t tell whether she’s joking or not.

“You want to switch?” I ask, my voice unsure.

Kleio nods and her mouth forms a scheming sort of grin. “I think we’d be stupid not to.”

For a moment I’m lost again but not to the agitation-fueled storm of guilt. Now I’m enveloped in the newly brightening horizon abundant with opportunity. Mulling over my second’s offer, I come to conclude that we actually might just be able to pull it off.

“But—you don’t mind? Really?” I press.

She laughs in return. “Mind? Why would I mind? If anyone would refuse to switch, it would be you. Which I wouldn’t fault you for, what with the TideLords and King Nereus there watching. But Merena, we could win .”

Any remaining clouds of my dismay dissipate into the ether and are replaced by fluttering's of hope. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of this before.

I grab Kleio’s hand, squeezing it gratefully. “You're brilliant, you know that? ”

She beams at me in return. Her brown eyes grow warm enough to thaw some of that unyielding ice inside of me. I could almost swear I felt something begin to fracture.

“Alright,” I shout with a brisk clap. “Kleio and I have some last-minute changes to go over with you guys.” A grin climbs its way up my face as we leave the ring and join the rest of our crew.

We spend the remainder of our time that night re-strategizing.

We cover and then re-cover the event timeline of the trial.

We analyze for hours all that we know when it comes to finding The Vault and noting the many factors that will have to be left up to chance.

Finally, we plan out how best to utilize the few remaining days we have to practice our last-minute change.

Not until we finally drag ourselves back to the cabin and I lie down in my bunk for what might be one of the last times do the doubts begin to swell inside.

What if I win and still no TideLord chooses me?

What if my origins are too much to overlook?

How absolutely humiliating that would be. For me and my crew. Just the possibility of it makes me want to hunker down and never leave the safety of my sheets again.

If only the evidence of what I am wasn’t so incredibly damning.

I often wonder just what exactly I must have done to piss off the drowned gods to such a degree.

From the white brand around my wrist extending to the identical shade of my affinity mark and then stretching so far as to turn my hair into a glaring symbol.

A part of me thought maybe I would never grow it back out after those assholes chopped it off in a hack job.

In the brilliancy of early youth, I thought maybe if I hid it, people might even forget.

Maybe, by allowing it to grow so long and obvious, I was inadvertently asking for the treatment I received.

Maybe I was the one at fault for bringing the attention upon myself.

Maybe I should just make myself as small and invisible as possible, I thought. Maybe then everyone would finally leave me alone. Maybe I could just fade into the background until no one noticed I was there at all .

Then a different part of me raised its head from the deep, dark depths of my blackened soul. It whispered to me tidings of another path.

Maybe, I thought, maybe I should become larger and more terrifying than even those who hunted me in my nightmares.

Maybe I should learn to train the beast that prowled beneath my skin and unleash it at my will.

Maybe I should take up so much space it would suffocate everyone in the fucking vicinity.

The choice then became crystal clear for my younger self. Oderint dum metuant.

Let them hate, so long as they fear.