Page 23 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The mountain arena felt different today. Colder somehow, as if the stone itself knew what was coming. We stood in the antechamber, the air thick with anticipation and something else—fear, maybe, though none of us would admit it.

Kenna paced in small circles, nerves radiating off of her. Even Theron's mask had slipped, his fingers drumming against his thigh in an uneven rhythm. Mira stood perfectly still, but her eyes never stopped moving throughout the space. The only one who seemed truly at ease was Valkan, lounging against a pillar with his personal guard, looking for all the world like this was merely a social gathering.

Vexa's boots echoed against stone as she approached our group, her leathers marking her as Spectre. "Those offered the choice will fly to the Void's location this evening," she said, her voice carrying an official weight that still felt strange coming from her. "If you accept, there's no turning back."

Her violet eyes swept over us, lingering on each face. "Those who decline, or aren't selected for the Void, may be offered positions in other units based on your abilities. The ground troops, scouts, or archival units all need capable soldiers." She paused, something flickering across her expression. "Each role serves the realm. Remember that when you make your choice."

I could feel her gaze on me, heavy with the weight of last night's conversation, but I kept my eyes fixed on the far wall. The awkwardness still hung between us, made worse by the formality of the moment.

"Fia," she said finally, gesturing to a quiet corner. "A word?"

I hesitated, remembering her sharp comments about Laryk, how I'd nearly cried my eyes out in front of them. The others pretended not to watch as I stayed rooted in place.

"I'll be quick," she added lightly. Something in her voice made me follow.

She led me to an alcove, away from curious ears. For a moment she just stood there, absently tracing the designs on her leathers.

"I was harsh last night," she said finally, meeting my eyes. "And that's the last thing I wanted to be. It's just... you've always seemed so sure of yourself. So strong. Like nothing could touch you."

I almost laughed at that. I had been their prisoner for a majority of my time here, and that didn't necessarily scream strength.

"Hearing about what happened in Sídhe," she continued, "how they treated you, how they..." She shook her head. "It caught me off guard. Made me angry. Not at you," she added quickly. "At them. At how they took someone with your power and tried to..." She gestured vaguely.

"Turn me into a weapon?" I supplied, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

"Into whatever they needed," she corrected softly. "With no regard to what they had taken from you. All while concealing the truth."

The words hit something deep inside me. I thought about that scared girl in Sídhe, the one who'd been so afraid of her own power. The one who'd hidden from everything until she had no choice but to fight. When had that changed? When had I become someone others saw as strong?

"I'm not—" I started, then stopped, unsure how to explain. "I wasn't always like this. Before everything, I literally just kept my head down—stuck to the shadows." A bitter laugh escaped me. "Ironic, considering."

"And now you command six Sentinels at once and make Urkin squirm in his chair." A hint of that smirk returned. "People change. Sometimes for the better, sometimes not. It sounds like your experience helped you grow. And that's never a bad thing."

I thought about that—about all the ways I'd changed since joining the Guard. Some changes had been forced upon me, others I'd chosen. But which was which? The line between them felt blurrier every day.

"I am sorry though," she added quietly. "About what I said. You didn't deserve that."

"Why does it matter to you?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. "A few weeks ago I was just your prisoner."

Something flashed across her face—pain, maybe, or recognition. "Because we're not so different." She shrugged.

Before I could respond, movement near the arena entrance caught my attention. Valkan stood with his personal guards, his milky eyes fixed on our conversation.

"He did well in the trials," I said, trying to redirect.

Vexa's mouth hardened into a line. "Too well. The drought doesn't seem to affect him at all. His abilities, his strength—none of it has diminished like the rest of us. I understand the Council's desperation, but I'd rather die than serve alongside that."

A horn sounded from above, cutting through our conversation. The sound reverberated through the stone, making several candidates jump. Through the archway, I could see nobles filing into their seats .

"Candidates," Urkin's voice boomed through the chamber. "Take your positions."

Vexa squeezed my arm once before moving away. "Whatever happens next," she whispered, "You've proved yourself already."

We filed into the arena proper, where the Generals sat in their elevated seats. The crowd seemed larger than before, the noble boxes packed with anxious faces. I couldn't help the pang in my gut at remembering that they chose Valkan. They allowed such a monster into this competition. Gave him even more power—more influence.

"Candidate Theron," Urkin's voice filled the chamber. "Step forward."

Theron moved with the same confident stride he'd shown in his trials, but I noticed a slight tremor in his hands. He stood before the Generals' platform, the torchlight reflecting off his dark hair.

"You have proven yourself worthy of the choice," Urkin stated, his voice carrying to every corner of the arena. "Your abilities show not just power, but control. Discipline." He paused, letting the words settle. "Do you choose to give yourself fully to Umbrathia? Do you choose to embrace the shadows? Will you meet the Void?"

"I will." Theron's voice carried clearly through the chamber, unwavering despite the weight of hundreds of eyes upon him. Applause erupted from the crowd as he was led away by two Spectres.

This was really happening. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

Kenna was next, appearing solemn as she accepted. When Cassia declined, whispers rippled through the crowd, but the Generals merely conferred briefly before offering her a position with the scouts. Her relief was palpable as she was escorted from the arena .

"Candidate Lael," Urkin called, and my heart clenched.

The boy who'd sat beside me at the bonfire seemed transformed as he approached the platform. His shoulders were set, his chin high. Aether's words from last night hung in the air. The Void tests you in ways unimaginable.

"I will," Lael said, his voice laced with determination. I felt a lick of pride flare at the smile that broke across his face.

The ceremony continued. Raven's abilities with mirror communication earned him a place in the Archival Unit. Mira accepted the choice.

Then Valkan stepped forward, and the very air seemed to still.

The Generals' faces had gone rigid, though they maintained their composure. Even Urkin's perpetual scowl deepened as Valkan approached, his movements like a predator.

"Lord Valkan," Urkin's voice carried a weight I hadn't heard before. "You have proven yourself worthy of the choice." The words seemed to cost him something. "Do you choose to give yourself fully to Umbrathia? Do you choose to embrace the shadows? Will you meet the Void?"

Valkan's smile was radiant and wrong. "My friends," he addressed the crowd directly, ignoring protocol entirely. "This is but the first step toward Umbrathia's salvation. Together, we will restore our realm to glory." His dead eyes found mine. "And we will do whatever it takes to achieve that end."

The nobles shifted in their seats, some leaning forward eagerly, others drawing back. Valkan continued speaking, but I barely heard the words. His gaze felt like oil on my skin, making my stomach turn. As he passed me on his way off the stage, he paused.

"Such raw power," he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear. "What a magnificent shadow you'll become."

Finally, only I remained. The silence stretched as the Generals conferred in hushed tones. I could feel the weight of the crowd's attention, the mixture of curiosity and suspicion that had followed me since my arrival in Umbrathia. Urkin's eyes bored into me, but I refused to look away, remembering how he'd watched me command his Sentinels. Let him see that strength now.

"Never before," he said finally, his voice filling the chamber, "has an outsider stood where you stand. Never before has one proven worthy of this choice." His jaw tightened. "But after much deliberation, we have decided you have earned the right to further prove yourself to our realm." He straightened in his chair. "Foreign-born, do you choose to give yourself fully to Umbrathia? Do you choose to embrace the shadows? Will you meet the Void?"

Relief flooded me.

I thought of everything that had led me here—the lies I'd been told in Sídhe, the truth I'd discovered in this dying realm. I thought of Vexa's words about choice. The Void might break me, might show me horrors beyond imagination, but at least this time, the choice was mine.

This time, I knew what I was fighting for. And I knew what I was fighting against. I stepped forward, eyes sweeping the panel of Generals. Each one nodded as my gaze met theirs.

"I will."

The clouds pressed in around us, thick and gray. Nihr's wings cut through them with ease, sending wisps of mist dancing across my skin. I shifted in the saddle, trying to ignore how close Aether sat behind me, how his shadows seemed calmer now than they had in days.

The other candidates were somewhere ahead of us, each paired with their own Spectre escort. Tradition, they'd called it, though I suspected it had more to do with making sure none of us lost our nerve at the last moment. Not that turning back was an option now—even if I wanted to.

The silence stretched between us, broken only by the steady beat of Nihr's wings. I thought of all the questions I still had, all the things I still didn't understand about what was coming. But asking felt like admitting fear, and I'd already shown enough weakness these past few days.

A sudden gust of wind rocked us, and I gripped the saddle horn tighter. The temperature had been dropping steadily as we flew North, the air growing thinner. Even the light seemed different here. Darker, maybe, or deeper. Ice began to form along Nihr's harness, crystallizing in delicate patterns.

My teeth chattered despite my best efforts to stop them. The cold had begun seeping through my leathers, burrowing into my bones. Behind me, Aether radiated heat. Before I could stop, I found myself leaning back slightly, drawn to that warmth.

I felt him stiffen for just a moment before relaxing. Neither of us spoke, but he didn't pull away.

"The cold gets worse," he said, his voice close to my ear, his breath warm against my skin. "The closer we get."

I fought back a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature. "How much further?"

"Not far." There was something in his tone—not quite concern, but something adjacent to it. "You can feel it, can't you?"

I knew what he was asking. Something had been tugging at my consciousness since we'd crossed into the Northern territory. Like a whisper just below hearing, or a shadow seen from the corner of my eye. It felt similar to how the darkness had called to me in Emeraal.

"Is that normal?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded against the wind.

He paused, and I felt him shift slightly behind me. "No. But I thought it might call to you. "

Another gust of wind hit us, this one carrying a bite that cut straight through me. Nihr's wings beat harder against it, sending us into a slight tilt that pressed me further against Aether's chest. The heat of him was maddening—a stark contrast to the ice forming in my hair, on my eyelashes. I should have pulled away, maintained some semblance of distance, but the cold had become too brutal to fight.

"The others," I started, then hesitated, trying to focus on anything except his proximity. "They don't remember their time in the Void."

"They remember parts of it," he said after a long moment, his voice a low rumble I could feel through my back. "The mind protects itself from the worst of it. Buries what it can't handle." His voice dropped lower. "But some things leave marks that can't be forgotten."

The clouds ahead had begun to thin, revealing glimpses of the landscape below. Or what should have been landscape. Instead, there was... nothing. An absence so complete it hurt to look at, like trying to see into a hole in the world itself.

"There," Aether said, though he didn't need to. I could feel it now—a vast, hunger that seemed to pull at something deep inside me. "The Void."

Nihr banked slightly, and the clouds parted fully. I forgot how to breathe.

It stretched as far as I could see, a mass of writhing shadows that consumed everything in its path. No light escaped it, no sound emerged from it. Even the dimmed light seemed to bend away from its edges, as if the very air feared being devoured.

This was what had changed Aether. What had marked all of them. And in a few hours, I would have to walk into its depths.

And suddenly, I recognized it. From my dream with the girls—the father dragging them into the darkness, their mother sobbing in the wake of it all .

"Remember," Aether's voice was barely a whisper now. "It's not about surviving. It's about choosing to keep fighting— resisting —even when everything inside you wants to give in."

I thought I felt his hand brush my arm—just for a moment, but when I turned to look at him, his eyes were fixed ahead, his expression unreadable as we soared towards the unending darkness of the Void.