Page 16 of Son of the Drowned Empire

Chapter Fifteen

G arrett and I flew in silence, both in shock. I thought of calling Aiden over the woodlands, but after I asked Garrett what he thought and he shook his head in response, I knew I couldn’t. It had been risky enough calling him once, and even if we did pass on the warning, who could he get to in time? How could he explain what he knew without revealing we’d broken the law?

And we were so out in the wilds. I had no idea where the soturi were posted—most were camouflaged. We could lose time searching for someone to raise the alarm. Heading to the Gryphon Pits was the fastest, most efficient way to let the soturi know about the threat.

The threat I prayed was over.

The idea that I might have left too soon was twisting my stomach, but I knew Garrett hadn’t been able to take much more, and we couldn’t allow ourselves to be turned. At least we’d left two akadim dead.

My mind kept turning, insisting I’d made the right choice, and then falling into doubt all over again. I just knew this: the red gryphon was still there, and he was more than capable of taking on another beast. Far more than Garrett and I were.

I urged the bronze gryphon to fly faster. Beside me, Garrett grimaced. Something darkened in his aura, spilling across the sky. He shouted to speed up, and upon his command, the gryphon’s wings flapped, emitting powerful gusts of snow-dusted wind into my face.

I kept my ears open as we flew, anxiously listening for the sound of warning bells. I wasn’t sure if I truly wanted to hear them or not. Hearing them meant more akadim were in Glemaria, but it also meant our security measures were in place, that we were attempting to protect our own people, that someone knew, that something was being done.

Through the shrieks of the wind, the only bells that rang, in the end, were the ones calling out the time. We’d be at the Pits within the hour by my calculations. The woods below had long grown sparse, leading into some of the smaller towns and villages. We’d have a short window to fight in the Alissedari before the sky went completely dark, barely hours before sunset, but not much.

Occasionally, I called out to Garrett. He was uncharacteristically silent, staring ahead, no longer playing with the gray gryphon. He barely offered him a pat on the head when he followed directions. Gryphons, while fully capable of having and expressing emotions, did not pout, yet somehow, Garrett had found one who did.

As we soared over another cluster of sun trees, their golden leaves muted beneath the overcast sky, I spotted the Pits on the horizon. The structure grew taller as we approached, and I tried to remain calm as I took in its size—larger than the Katurium, larger even than Seathorne. I tightened my grip.

The Gryphon Pits had been modeled after our Katurium. It was a large, round building with an open center that held a soturi’s training arena. Seats along the sides rose to the top of the open structure. Every country had a similar school, but ours was the largest, the most prestigious, and the only true place to become a soturion in the North, especially for nobility. Its reputation and size only had one competitor: the Soturion Academy in Bamaria.

Pale gray stone built on the top of a hill had formed a round fortress. Glittering silver ropes crisscrossed over the top, giving the illusion of the arena being a closed building with a round dome.

My throat tightened at the sight. I’d known what we were getting into—what we’d been forced into—but seeing it so close, knowing we could be trapped, knowing it was just for my father’s ego, just another symbol of his cruelty, just another excuse for violence, as if our world needed more, left me enraged. Violence was literally breaking through our borders, going unchecked, unwatched, and it was up to the novices, to me and Garrett, to defend our home while everyone in true power was drinking in the Godsdamned waste-of-resources Pits.

Still, no bells had rung. I prayed it was because the threat truly had been stopped, but I no longer trusted in our defenses.

The sky darkened as more snow fell, and a wave of panic blew toward me. It felt like Garrett’s aura, but it was weak. Gryphons shrieked and growled; more riders entering the tournament had begun to catch up. Ahead, circling the Pits, were dozens more riders.

Garrett flew beside me, having paled even more since I’d last seen him.

“You okay?” I yelled, my voice barely audible against the wind.

Garrett nodded, his eyes still ahead. I directed my gryphon closer, the tips of her bronze wings nearly brushing those of his. Garrett was starting to worry me. There was a kind of desperation and longing in his eyes. And something else. He was upset. He’d been attacked brutally by akadim twice now. He’d killed akadim twice now.

I imagined that as much as we honored and celebrated the killing in Glemaria—the act still took a toll. I couldn’t imagine the act of taking a life not leaving a mark, even if that life had already been stolen by monsters.

“You sure?” I yelled. “Are you sick?”

Garrett shook his head again, still staring at the Pits.

I waved at the guards ahead on gryphon-back and began stroking my gryphon’s head—she was so prickly, I didn’t know if she’d perceive the gryphons before us as a threat. I needed her to slow down enough that I could talk to them, tell them what happened, and get some scouts out to the borders.

But as we entered their space, I realized my mistake. The riders that flew out to meet us weren’t soturi at all. They were mages, and they’d already placed a protection dome around us—one that kept us from backing out. We’d unknowingly entered a binding.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Akadim! Akadim at the Hartavian border! We need soturi out there now.”

The moment the words left my mouth, they died in the wind. There was too much noise, too many gryphons, too much chaos for the mages to hear or focus on anything other than entering another contestant into the game; following my father’s orders.

I urged the bronze gryphon closer to the mage before me, but his gryphon’s wings were flapping too roughly to get as near as I needed. I called again, louder this time. Nothing.

I turned to Garrett. “Tell them!”

His eyes darkened. “I can’t.” His voice had weakened considerably.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

He shook his head again, that same desperate longing in his eyes, his focus fully on the Pits.

“AKADIM!” I roared back at the mage.

Instead of heeding my warning, the mage yelled out, his voice amplified, “Lord Rhyan Hart, Heir Apparent to the Arkasva, High Lord of Glemaria, Imperator to the North, enters the Alissedari. Bronze gryphon.”

A riot of shouts and cheers sounded from the Pits in response.

Silver bindings escaped his stave, rushing at my gryphon, who squawked in fear, just before the rope tied itself around her ankle.

“NO!” I screamed, the binding around my wrist heated. I tried to steer my gryphon up, away from the Pits, but we were already being dragged forward, forced through the domed rings and into the fight. “There was akadim!” I shouted desperately, my voice pleading.

My warning fell on unhearing ears.

Another mage performed the same binding on Garrett. “Soturion Garrett of Ka Aravain enters the Alissedari. Gray gryphon.”

My gryphon flapped her wings, angling her body backward, and nearly bucking me off as she attempted to escape the rope. But it was useless. Magically powered in this situation to resist her strength, the rope pulled, and we were sucked toward the dome of the Pits within seconds.

My ears burst from the sound of cheers; the audience filling the stadium had to boast at least two thousand.

I’d grown almost numb to the cold. I’d been outside the entire day. But the sudden heat of the tournament’s bindings crashed against my body with such force, I was stunned for a moment, barely able to move. Sweat beaded the nape of my neck, and my skin itched and burned until I made it through. My ears popped.

A spiraling doom burrowed its way deep inside my belly. We were inside the Alissedari now, no way to warn the others or escape.

Not until it ended.

Not until someone died.

I could see Garrett’s face register the same realization as his gryphon fought his bindings, kicking his legs, desperately trying to fly back toward freedom. Instead, he crashed against the burning cold of the silver rings.

Garrett ducked low, but it wasn’t enough. He shouted in pain, grimacing and laying his face against the gryphon’s back.

I kept steady, waiting for Garrett to descend.

“Find Dario!” I yelled once we were at the same height. I thought it’d be easier to talk in here, but it was even harder. The wind was gone, but now we were surrounded by the sounds of thousands of Glemarians shouting. My ears hurt. Aiden may have kept our armor and cloaks from absorbing moisture, but we’d been wholly unprepared for the noise.

I wasn’t sure if Garrett heard me or not, but he immediately directed his gryphon down, flying toward the outer rings, as close to the seats as he could manage without actually crashing into the wall that magically separated us from the audience.

I craned my head, trying to catch my bearings. Below me, a tawny-colored gryphon was being chased by three more. I wasn’t sure the gryphon had a rider, but then a head full of dark curls with silver beads appeared, his hood blowing back.

“Dario!” I yelled.

My gryphon dove, swooping in and out of fights and swerving around another gryphon flying straight for us. I tucked myself against her neck and directed her to the left then to the right, narrowly missing a black-feathered beast.

“Dorscha!” I ordered. We were so close to reaching Dario.

Without warning, my gryphon swerved and growled, the sound vibrating furiously through her body as we came face to face with a pale white gryphon carrying a soturion from Ka Oryyan.

I withdrew my sword, recognizing Thorin’s cousin, Sev. He was charging forward, flying swiftly toward me, blade flashing.

I leaned forward just as we passed. Our swords clanged, the metal singing above the din of noise.

We both turned at once, my gryphon’s wings pulling back as we soared, swords repositioned. This time, I wasn’t aiming for a hit. This time, I’d unseat the bastard. For good.

Cheers erupted below, and in the distance, I could hear announcements, someone calling out the names of those warriors in battle.

“Lord Rhyan Hart, Heir Apparent…”

I loosened my grip, my muscles tensing as I recalled my years of training, allowed my sword to be an extension of my arm, and moved to make the hit I needed.

A countdown started in my head, the fight before me becoming clear. Three…two…one…

Our gryphons passed, wing tips touching, and I struck, catching Sev’s leathers hard enough to push him back. He hadn’t engaged his core, I could tell the second we made contact. Sev fell backward and rolled off, hands barely catching onto the edge of a wing.

He’d been cocky, unprepared to exert more than his magic stores. Just like earlier. He fell lower, sliding down the wings, until he dangled only by one hand. He screamed in horror.

I yelled out for his gryphon to descend. Either he hadn’t practiced his High Lumerian enough to recite the command himself, or he was too terrified of the fall. I tried once more, urging my own gryphon down as an example. But Sev fell, and despite my dislike for him, my throat tightened with fear.

The audience screamed as he dropped, but the floor was soft. He landed on his knees and rolled over.

I exhaled sharply, relieved.

Only one death was allowed. I should have known it would come from something far more sinister than a soturion being knocked off his gryphon.

No longer facing an immediate threat, I tried to take stock of the tournament around me. There had to be at least two dozen gryphons and more battles happening below me. On the ground, Sev had his sword out and was still fighting. He was limping a little on his left leg but clearly had enough strength in him to attack an apprentice.

Looking up, I saw two more gryphons fly through the bindings, screeching and struggling against the ropes that pulled down their legs.

“Soturion Sev Orryan is gryphon-less. Now fighting on the ground.”

The gryphon Sev had fallen from was soaring upward, the silver rope around his leg torn. There was a flash of white light—an opening in the dome that he flew through. The second his tail passed, the hole knit itself closed, and the silver hummed with its warded magic, reigniting its defenses.

Two more gryphons flew before me, nearly crashing into us. One soturion lifted up from his seat, kneeling before standing. He eyed his opponent’s gryphon and, with a shout, jumped from his gryphon’s back. His blade was drawn, and I held my breath, terrified he’d go for the kill as he landed. His opponent seemed to suspect the same thing, and rather than fight back, he rolled off the gryphon, falling to the ground. He landed on top of another soturion.

I directed my gryphon to fly around the stadium. I needed to catch my breath, and I couldn’t see amongst the chaos of wings and blades where Dario or Garrett had gone. I chanced a look at the audience filling the seats. Most were a blur of faces, black leathered armor, green cloaks, and blue robes. But I spotted my father, sitting proudly as he watched the senseless fighting and carnage—all in his honor. Like last night, he was completely surrounded by his personal guard.

My mother sat beside him, her face strained. Our eyes caught and I saw the sigil for Ka Gaddayan one row behind, but I wasn’t fast enough to find Kenna.

Just as I passed the section of seats, I found the Ready. Aemon’s eyes were dark and stormy as he watched me pass.

Coming round the opposite side of the arena, I found Aiden. But he didn’t see me; his eyes were fixed ahead, no doubt on Garrett. I turned, following his gaze, and sure enough, there he was, his gray gryphon swooping down, his sword out as he knocked out another soturion.

I screamed his name, flying toward him.

In the opposite direction was Dario, at last. He roared in delight at seeing us, his eyes lighting up, but then three riders swooped down on him.

Dario was quick, leaning forward and head-butting his first opponent hard enough to knock him unconscious.

Garrett turned, coming to Dario’s aid. Another rider soared past, his sword pointed right for me. I was ready. Our swords met, once, twice, and then with a third thrust, I knocked the blade from his hand. He reached for the spare on his back. I didn’t wait. I flung my sword out against his leathers, blunt side smacking into his unprotected stomach. I didn’t cut him but hit hard enough that he fell back, his second sword dropping to the ground. Cursing, he took off to retrieve it.

I locked eyes with Garrett, and stilled, my stomach churning. His eyes were different—distant, dark. Something had been off about him since the forest, since the akadim attack. His aura had darkened… weakened. Even his gray gryphon looked agitated with him.

Garrett wobbled, his head lolling side to side, and then he fell headfirst from his seat.

I screamed, ordering my gryphon to move. She followed the command at once, her head diving down, and we descended in pursuit of Garrett. His name was called out by an announcer, and from the corner of my eye, I spotted his gryphon bursting through the bounds of the Pits, free of the tournament.

I urged on my gryphon, my vision blurring with sweat. My arm straining, I leaned forward and grabbed hold of him, pulling him into my lap as we careened to the ground.

I squeezed my eyes shut, sure we were about to crash, then tightened my grip on both my gryphon and Garrett as we suddenly rushed up.

My chest heaved as we evened our pace, flying around the arena once more. Garrett shifted to a riding position next to me.

“Rhyan?” His voice was weak.

I reached for his shoulder, squeezing gently. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

His face fell. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

I’d known Garrett for years, seen him through so much, yet not once had I ever seen him shed a single tear, much less cry.

“Garrett?” I steered my gryphon to fly over a battle between two riders, and then we angled down again, narrowly missing a tawny gryphon flying toward us.

He let out a pained sob. “I’m sorry. I… I—” He sobbed again. “I should have said something. Hours ago. But I wasn’t—sure. Didn’t want to believe, didn’t want it to be true. Convinced myself I was okay. It didn’t happen like I thought. Like we’d studied.”

“What?” I searched his eyes, dark, shadowed. And something like fear twisted inside of me, my veins filling with ice. Those weren’t Garrett’s eyes. Surely that was just a trick of the light, of the Alissedari. “What didn’t happen?” My fingers tightened on his armor. An itch began to spread across my back where the blood oath had been carved into my flesh.

Another gryphon growled, coming at us, and I didn’t hesitate. I thrust my sword out with a yell, cutting right through the soturion’s arm. He screamed in pain, blood falling onto his gryphon’s wings before it screeched and turned.

I turned back to Garrett.

“I always thought it happened right away, you know?” He was practically babbling, his voice shaking. “When there wasn’t—wasn’t a black mark, I put my armor back, buckled it all up before…” his fingers tensed, clawing at his chest, “…before you saw. But I could feel it. Feel it happening. Feel part of my soul leaving me. Not leaving. Fuck. Not leaving. Eaten.”

Eaten? My eyes widened, my throat constricting. “No. No.” I shook my head. “Garrett, no. That’s not how it works.”

“It is. At least, this time it is.” His hands trembled as he reached for the buckles on his shoulders.

All day, Garrett’s aura had darkened, felt foreign, unfamiliar. I’d thought he was tired. I’d thought it was the distance. I’d thought it was the chaos of the tournament. Even the silver binds around our wrists could have dulled his aura, but that hadn’t been the reason. Because this wasn’t him, wasn’t how his energy felt. Because right now… I felt nothing.

Garrett had no aura.

Nothing was coming from him. And his eyes—by the Gods. It shouldn’t have been possible. They were black, and somehow, they were getting darker, unnaturally shadowed.

His shoulders shook, fingers trembling as he pulled back his leathers just enough for me to see his tunic had been ripped to shreds. His jaw tightened, his eyes on me, as he pushed the pieces aside.

A black mark had formed over his heart, and it was growing right before my eyes, spreading to his collarbone, neck, and shoulders.

Suddenly I was seeing what I hadn’t allowed myself to see back in the forest: Garrett on the ground, the akadim over him, his leathers open. His shrieks of pain…

“No! NO!” I roared.

Garrett put his leathers back together, methodically, lifelessly, like he was preparing for a battle—one he found boring, one he fought every day. He laughed, the sound joyless, filled with horror. “I should have known. I wasn’t going to be lucky twice.”

“It was never about luck!” I snarled. “You killed the akadim before because of your strength, and you killed that second bastard today because you’re fucking strong. You hear me? You didn’t survive once because of luck. You survived then and you will survive now because of you. Are you listening? You’re going to be okay. Just hang on. I’m going to get you to help.”

He was fine. He was going to be fine. He had to be fine.

“How? We’re trapped here until the game ends.”

Something hardened in my heart, in my soul. That sense of doom I’d felt before grew. My father had warned me. I was supposed to win. I was always going to be the one—even if I couldn’t have imagined it. Thorin had come at me with the intent of great harm. As had Sev. They’d been brutal. They had permission. And so did I. Today was always going to end with death.

I’d been fooling myself for weeks. Pretending I’d had a choice. But like the rest of my life, it had been an illusion–a dream.

Imperators did not offer choices. They commanded and we were helpless but to submit to their will.

I knew what I needed to do.

“Then, we end it,” I snarled. “We end the game now.”

I didn’t recognize my voice or the words coming from my mouth. I’d never killed before. Not a person, not even an akadim. I’d only half-killed the one who had done this to Garrett. But I would change that now. I’d do it if it meant saving my friend. If someone had to die, then let it be so Garrett could live and not to satisfy my father’s ego.

I scanned the gryphons that remained, the soturi still fighting on their backs, the ones battling on the ground.

I could jump. Take out my sword, let Garrett stay safely on the bronze gryphon.

“Just wait here,” I said. “I’m going to do this for you. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you help.” I knew dozens of soturi who’d survived akadim attacks. Garrett would survive.

But a small voice warned… they survived with their souls. No black marks.

“No,” Garrett said. “Don’t. Please.”

Tears were burning behind my eyes. “Garrett, I have to do this.” I turned away, prepared to jump, to make my first kill. “It’s the only way.”

He grabbed my arm, and pulled me back, his fist unnaturally strong around me.

“No, it’s not.” He sniffled. “It’s not a way at all. Rhyan, you’re not a killer. And I can’t die knowing I made you one.”

I shook my head. “I would do this for you, I swear.”

He sighed, the sound heavy, defeated. “I can feel it. It’s too late for me.” Garrett pulled on his blonde hair. “I feel it happening. You know there’s no cure. No help for me now. I’ve been lying to myself and to you. But the truth is… the truth… I’ve been forsaken for hours.”

The blood oath on my back was heating. Burning. Warning me. I was in danger, I was close to violating the oath, to breaking my promise, to not just losing Garrett but suffering the consequences, the punishment that would come from failing to protect him.

“It’s not too late. You’re still you. You’re still in there.”

“I’m not going to be me for much longer.” His throat bobbed. “Please. My father’s out there, watching. My mother. Vanya. The shame… the shame of having a family member turn akadim—you know the taint that will have on our Ka. And I don’t… I don’t want them to see me turn. Don’t let them. Don’t let them see me become a monster.”

“You won’t. It’s day. It’s not possible.”

“Night’s nearly here. It’s okay. I’ve had hours to process this. To decide. Just… please. Don’t let this hurt them anymore than it already will. And don’t let me…don’t let me hurt them. You promised. Promised to protect me, to protect mine.”

I cried out in pain. The scar on my back was growing hotter.

“End it,” Garrett said calmly. “It’s easier this way. Here, now. I can’t… can’t take much more. And if I have to see them, say goodbye… I don’t think I can.”

“NO!” The scar burned even hotter. Sweat was pouring down my tunic, rising up my neck.

“Please, Rhyan,” he said, his voice growing weaker. “You swore.”

“Swore to protect you!”

“This… protects me.”

I shook my head.

He reached for my hand. “You have to win, don’t you? He’s going to punish you if you don’t.”

I shook my head. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. I’m sorry… I should have spoken up a long time ago. I shouldn’t have been silent. I should have… I should have protected you better than I did. And I never should have made you swear that oath to protect me…not when I didn’t do the same for you. But now you must. And now… This is how you protect me. Let me die as myself. While I’m still me. While I still feel. While I still…” his bottom lip trembled, “…while I still love. End the tournament. Win. Stay safe from your father. Warn the others. Protect Aiden. For me.”

“Garrett!”

“You feel it, don’t you? The blood oath. I can see it in your face. The pain will stop. For both of us. I’m sorry.”

A rider charged forward, his gryphon small, its wings bronzed with snowy tips. I pushed Garrett down, reaching for my sword, and I struck with the intent to kill. My back burned hotter than before, the pain so bad, I dropped my arm and ducked, just missing the rider’s blade.

Slowly, I turned to Garrett and held my sword to his neck, angling it just so, as if I would kill him.

And he was right. It worked. The pain vanished.

I pulled my blade back. The heat started again.

Gods. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be how I protected him. But letting him die as Garrett, not letting him become akadim, that was my duty now.

The announcer called my name. From his vantage point, it looked like I was in a duel with Garrett.

He reached weakly for my shoulder. “Stop the threat,” he whispered.

“Stop the threat,” I said, my vision blurring. I bit the inside of my cheek. “How?” I asked. “How do I…?” Gods. How was I supposed to kill my friend?

Garrett tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck.

A memory flashed through my mind. We were sixteen, studying in Seathorne’s library. Garrett had just been allowed to start studying with the nobles thanks to his father’s position as turion.

“Best way to die?” Dario asked, as Garrett sat down.

“Not dying,” I said, kicking Dario’s foot.

“Not dying isn’t an option. You have to die. Best way to go?” he asked again, his eyes brimming with mischief.

Garrett shifted in his seat, pushing back his blonde waves. Aiden looked up, watching him intently.

“I’m going to assume old age isn’t an option?” Garrett tapped his finger against his chin.

“Nope,” Dario said. “You’re going to be killed before old age can get you. Best way to go?”

Garrett’s eyebrows narrowed like he was taking the question seriously. A moment passed before he said, “Quickly.”

I laughed, and a librarian walking by with a stack of scrolls in her arms shushed me.

“Fall from a mountain?” Dario asked.

“That’s not exactly quick,” Aiden said.

“It is when you hit the ground,” Dario said.

“I don’t like the idea of falling. And I don’t want to bleed out. Head chopping can be fast but risky. I’d rather not see it coming,” Garrett said thoughtfully. He paused for another moment, running his fingers through his hair and down to his shoulder. “Neck snap,” he said definitively.

“Perfect,” Dario said. “That’s what I’ll use for my paper.”

“You just had me ponder my death for your homework!” Garrett yelled.

I knew what to do.

I reached for his neck, positioned my hands just so—just as I’d seen demonstrated in class. Just as I’d practiced a hundred times on a dummy in the Katurium.

“Tell me when,” I said.

Garrett seemed to relax. A small flare of energy came from him like he was at peace, like this was right. I felt it, too, even though I shouldn’t have. Everything about this was wrong.

“Will you tell Aiden that I’m sorry? And tell him, tell him I love him. Tell him I said, Mekara. Mekara , Aiden.”

My heart is yours. Garrett wanted to tell Aiden that he was his soulmate.

I was going to be sick.

“Tell him, too, that I want him—need him to be happy. Make him swear. Move on, find happiness in this life. Tell my family the same.”

My hands shook. I was disgusted with myself. This couldn’t be right. There had to be another way. And yet, I knew in my heart that there wasn’t. The black mark had seeped past Garrett’s armor to his neck, shadows were forming under his eyes, and his skin was turning white.

“I’m sorry, Rhyan,” he said. “Sorry, I made you swear. Sorry, you had to be the one to do this.”

“Me, too.”

“But I’m glad it’s you. Wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

I bit my lip, knowing he meant that as a compliment, but it didn’t feel like one.

“You’re a good friend, Rhyan. Know that. You’re blameless. Nothing to forgive. Your oath is fulfilled.”

I nodded, trying to think of what to say. What words could be meaningful now, what words could possibly matter?

In the end, there were no words. Nothing was going to be right in this moment, no matter what I said, no matter what I did. There was only one thing I could do: protect my friend. Fulfill my oath. Let Garrett remain Garrett. Keep him from suffering more. Keep his family from that same fate. Not allow him to become a monster.

Stop the threat.

“Me sha, me ka,” I whispered.

“On my life.” Garrett smiled at me, his lips shaking. His eyes locked with mine and he nodded. He was ready.

I tightened my hold, his body went limp in my arms, a willing participant even if his chest was rising and falling with rapid breaths, as if his lungs knew they were about to run out of air. Our eyes met, and then his gaze went to the stands, seeking out Aiden.

My heart constricted. I couldn’t do it.

Gods! Fuck!

As if by some other force, my hands moved. His eyes widened. The sound of the crack broke through every other sound of the arena. Louder than the growls of the gryphons. The shouts of the riders. The roar of the audience. The clang of metal on metal on metal.

All I could hear was one single sound. The sound of Garrett’s life ending. In my hands. My bare hands.

His eyes closed, his head rolling to the side.

A scream from the audience rose above the din, replacing the sound of the crack in my ears that had splintered my heart. It was a scream of pain and anguish.

I thought it was me at first, that I was screaming, but I wasn’t. It was Aiden. Aiden crying out. Aiden shouting because his soul had been cleaved in half.

And so had mine.

Garrett was gone.