Page 17 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The ceremonial black leathers felt stiff against my skin, new and difficult to move in. Effie circled me like a predator, adjusting straps and smoothing nonexistent wrinkles.

"Stop fidgeting," she scolded, batting my hands away from the collar for the third time.

"You're the one shoving me around." I shifted again, just to watch her eyes twitch.

Vexa lounged on my bed, absently tracing the void burns that spiraled up her arm. "Let her be, Effie. We all fidgeted before our ceremony."

" I didn't fidget," Effie sniffed, but her hands went gentle as she adjusted my sleeve.

"No, you just threw up in the waiting chamber."

"I did not!" Effie spun to face her, color rising in her cheeks. "I was... momentarily overwhelmed."

"Right." Vexa's lips quirked. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

I watched their exchange, noting the undercurrent of tension beneath their banter. "What was it like?" I asked. "Your ceremonies? "

Vexa's smile faded slightly. She sat up. "Different. There were more candidates then. The drought hadn't spread so far, and people still believed..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

"Believed what?"

"That joining the Umbra meant glory," Effie said quietly. "Not just survival."

Silence settled over us, heavy with unspoken weight. Effie's hands stilled on my shoulder, and for a moment, I saw past her affected manner to something deeper.

"I sacrificed my family crest," she said finally. "Generations of Eirfalk nobility, condensed into a single medallion."

"But you don't regret it?" I asked, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

A soft smile played at her lips as she glanced at Vexa. "Never."

"My sacrifice was simpler," Vexa said, standing to join us. "My first forging hammer. Illegal work or not, it kept me alive when nothing else would." She shrugged, but I saw how her fingers tightened on her arm.

Three sharp knocks cut through the moment. The door opened before anyone could respond, revealing Aether's broad frame. He'd worn the sleeveless leathers today, the ones that showed his void burns in full glory, which seemed unusually dark against his skin, almost breathing in the dim light. In his hands, he held something that made my breath catch—my emerald dagger, the one I had been given when I joined the Guard.

Vexa straightened, her eyes fixed on the blade. "Pretty," she breathed, professional appreciation warring with something else in her voice.

"Your sacrifice," Aether said, his golden eyes meeting mine for the first time since that day in training. Since I'd seen the woman in his head.

The emeralds caught the light, their color a painful reminder of other eyes I tried not to think about. This dagger had marked my beginning in the Guard, my pledge to protect Sídhe.

Effie's hands fell away from my shoulders. "Well," she said, her voice artificially bright. "I suppose it's time."

"Are you ready?" Aether asked, his voice low and steady. His fingers lingered on mine for a beat too long as I took it from him, their warmth sending shivers up my arm. The dagger felt familiar in my hand, the weight a reminder of the day I’d received it at an entirely different ceremony.

"Well, don't just stand there looking tragic," Effie said, breaking through my thoughts. "We have a ceremony to attend." But there was something gentle in her tone, something almost like understanding.

Vexa moved to the door. "The Vordr will be waiting." She paused, looking back at me. "Remember what we said about the gates. Don't hesitate when you step through."

I nodded.

"Come," Aether said, his golden eyes unreadable in the dim light. "It's time."

I gripped the dagger tighter and followed him into the corridor, where the real weight of what I was about to do finally began to sink in.

The hall stretched ahead, lit by flickering torches that cast long shadows against the stone walls. I followed Aether in silence until we reached the outer doors.

"Shouldn't you be with Lael?" I asked, remembering how young he'd looked during training. "He must be nervous."

"I’m going to him." Aether didn't slow his pace. "After I drop you off."

The gray twilight enveloped us as we crossed to the stables. Nihr waited near the entrance, her dark form massive against the ashen sky. Aether lifted me onto her back, his touch brief and impersonal. And then he was behind me, keeping that careful distance between us.

"What if I'm not what they need?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. "This realm has suffered so much already. If I fail them?—"

"You won't." His voice was quiet but certain.

"You can't know that."

"I've watched you since the moment you arrived." Though he kept his distance, something in his tone had shifted. "You could have chosen the easier path. Could have denied everything about who you are. But instead, you're here."

"Being here and being what they need are different things."

As Nihr took to the sky, the fortress fell away beneath us. The unchanging gray stretched in every direction, broken only by ancient stone structures emerging from the wasteland. In the distance, a massive hillside rose from the earth.

My fingers tightened around the dagger at my hip. The weight of it felt heavier now, like an anchor to a life I was choosing to leave behind.

"You think letting go of that means betraying them," Aether said, reading my thoughts with unsettling accuracy. "The people you care about there."

"Doesn't it?" I traced the emeralds with my thumb. "I'm pledging myself to a realm they see as the enemy."

"Caring for the fate of both realms isn't a betrayal." His hand moved slowly, deliberately, until it covered mine where it gripped the dagger. The touch was careful but firm. "You can fight for Umbrathia without turning against those you left behind. The two aren't mutually exclusive."

The warmth of his hand against mine seemed to carry more meaning than his words as we descended near an entrance cut directly into the rock. The sound of a gathering crowd drifted up from below, muffled but growing louder .

Before I knew it, we had landed, and he was pulling me off of Nihr, steadying me on the rock below my boots.

He motioned for me to follow him. The passage twisted downward, lit by torches that cast our shadows long against the rough stone walls. The sound of the gathering crowd echoed from somewhere ahead, but felt distant, separated by layers of rock.

Soon enough, the passage opened into a small antechamber. Two Umbra guards stood at attention beside an ornate door, beyond which I could hear the full weight of the crowd.

"This is where I leave you," Aether said, his voice neutral once more. "When they call your name, present your sacrifice."

"I got it. Go find Lael."

He met my eyes one last time, and for just a moment, I saw something crack in his carefully maintained features. But then it was gone.

"Try not to fall," he said, and turned away, leaving me alone.

The guards motioned for me to follow them, and led me to a small waiting chamber. Through the stone walls, I could hear the muffled sound of voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying.

The emerald dagger felt heavy in my hand as I paced the small space. No one had actually explained what I was supposed to do when I got out there. Present the sacrifice . It sounded a bit ridiculous and overly dramatic, but who was I to judge? At least they hadn't asked me for my blood.

Yet.

Time dragged until finally, a guard opened the door. "They're ready for you."

I followed him down a short corridor, my boots echoing against stone. Ahead, a voice boomed—Urkin's, I realized, but I couldn't make out the words.

The corridor opened into what looked like a massive underground cavern, carved entirely from black stone. The sudden space after the cramped passage made my head spin. But it was the silence that hit me first—a sudden, crushing quiet that fell over the crowd as I emerged.

Hundreds of faces stared down from tiered seating that rose into shadows. I felt their eyes rake over my white hair. Some leaned forward, whispering to their neighbors. Others simply stared, unmoving.

At the center of it all stood some kind of altar, where Urkin waited. To his right, a line of Kalfar stood at attention, their black uniforms stark against the stone—contestants, perhaps. The ones who had gone before me. His voice faltered for just a moment as he took in my appearance.

The silence stretched. I gripped the dagger tighter and moved forward, my boots echoing far too loudly against the stone floor. Not a single face looked away. That old instinct crept up my spine. The urge to duck my head, to blend into the background until I disappeared completely. I'd spent so many years perfecting that particular skill.

But this wasn't about hiding anymore. This wasn't about staying safe.

The emerald dagger felt heavy in my hand. Another army. Another pledge. The memory of Laryk's voice whispered in my head. You're different . He'd meant it as a gift, but now the words felt like chains. How many times would I let others decide what that difference meant?

I approached the altar, trying to focus on the simple task of walking without stumbling. I looked up at the other contestants, their faces now close enough to recognize. Most wore an unreadable mask, but then I saw Lael. He looked so much older than he should have. His dark hair was slicked back, and he wore the same leathers as the rest of us. We locked eyes for a moment, and I could have sworn his mouth cracked into a smile.

"You present yourself to face the Strykka?" Urkin's voice boomed through the room, dancing off the walls.

"Yes," I breathed, feeling the weight of the entire room.

"Present your sacrifice." His eyes fell on me, and I watched the subtle narrowing of his brows. He still didn't trust me.

I lifted the dagger, its familiar weight in my palm sending a wave of memories through me. I remembered how Laryk’s emerald eyes had gleamed with satisfaction the day he saw it fastened to my chest. A blade forged in Sídhe's finest flames, beautiful and deadly—something that was entirely mine. It had been my first real possession as a member of the Guard—something that marked me as one of them, something that was entirely mine. A symbol that I belonged somewhere, that I was more than just a branded outsider. Now, laying it on this altar felt like severing another tie to my old life.

I laid the dagger on the altar, watching as the emeralds caught the dim light one last time, and I forced myself to pull my hand away.

Urkin turned to address the crowd, his voice carrying authority that seemed to fill every corner of the cavern. "Before us stand those who would give everything to serve Umbrathia. In times past, the Strykka was a path to glory, a way to prove one's worth." He paused, his eyes sweeping over the assembled nobles and military leaders. "But now, as our realm faces its greatest challenge, these brave souls offer themselves for something far darker—the survival of our realm."

The weight of his words settled over the chamber. Even the whispers had died away.

"Three trials await," he continued. "Combat, to test strength. Observation, to measure tethers. And finally, for those deemed worthy, the Void itself. If any candidate completes the first two rounds successfully, they will be given a choice. To enter the Void, or to be placed into the highest tier of the Unit they will best serve. The Medics. The Archivists. The Scouting Regiment. Or the Sentinels." His voice grew sharp with pride. "To emerge from the Void marked by shadow is to become something greater. It is to ascend beyond what any Kalfar could dream. Our realm may be suffering, but our warriors—our Spectres—they are what hold us together. They are what give us hope."

That's when I heard it—movement from somewhere behind me, a shift in the crowd's energy. The silence took on a different quality, tense and electric. Even Urkin's eyes moved past me, fixing on something near the entrance I'd come through.

A murmur rippled through the crowd. I noticed several Council members shift uncomfortably in their seats. Urkin's jaw tightened, but he maintained his composure. Finally, I turned around. My blood ran cold.

Valkan. The Lord of Draxon himself stood there. A murmur rippled through the crowd as he approached. He flashed Urkin a wicked smile as he took his place in front of the altar, holding out what seemed to be a bloodied diamond, and letting it fall onto the surface.

"I present myself to the Strykka," he said in a voice that could command thousands. The room ran silent once more, and I could have sworn a vein in Urkin's throat snapped. His eyes shot up to one of the elevated seating boxes, a shocked expression creasing his features.

Valkan shrugged, and walked to the empty space next to me. Chills ran across my skin as I felt him lean in.

"You're even lovelier up close."