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I stared down at my frail body. Pale skin. Gaunt cheekbones. Shadows circled my eyes. Bruises spotted my arms, evidence of my struggle to escape. All the fighting, all the planning, all the hope , had been in vain. I’d lost the battle.

I don’t know how long I lingered, floating, studying my body in disbelief.

Regret mounted as I reevaluated my life—the losses I had suffered, the misjudgments I had made.

None of it seemed fair—but maybe that was another one of my faults, thinking life was fair.

Ironically, trusting Devrix, and by association Jarrett, was not among those regrets.

No one could predict Jesmine’s fury, but they had tried.

As I reflected, I became a cloud of sadness—a murky, gray disappointment suspended in the corner of the grimy cell.

Who knows how long I remained like that before the door creaked. Jarrett stepped inside, walked over to my body, and whispered into my ear. “Hang in there. We are so close.”

It was agonizing to witness. What he thought we were so close to, I didn’t understand.

Can’t he see I am no longer with him? The plan has failed.

Has he deluded himself into believing there is still hope?

Jarrett’s faith in Devrix was strong … he couldn’t see the truth of what lay in front of him: a corpse.

There was nothing for me in that cell, or in the entire fortress, for that matter.

I need to move on . Bound by my flesh no longer, my intuition guided me, and I angled to drift toward the door—but a tightness pulled at me, some sort of invisible force yanked back.

I tried again and failed.

I am dead … aren’t I? Certainly, the fact that I was looking down at my human flesh, pale and unmoving, laying on a table, had to mean it was over.

Why can’t I pull myself away?

I tried again. The bond was there, an unbreakable restraint.

Even in death, I was bound against my will. My frustration grew. I wanted to leave this place behind. I needed to be free.

The door creaked again. Arden entered. He stopped inside the door and waited.

“She is not going to make it,” Jarrett said, still standing near my corpse. He didn’t bother to look up at Arden, and pulled the blanket higher on my chest. He just told me to hang in there—why is he contradicting his own words?

After a breath, Jarrett turned to Arden. “I know you were friends, so I will give you a moment.”

Jarrett parted.

Arden stepped up to my lifeless body. He hesitated before reaching out and wrapping his hand over mine. “I tried,” he croaked. “I’m sorry I didn’t act sooner. You asked me to help … I just didn’t know how.” His voice strained and his eyes grew watery as he swallowed back tears.

He pulled something from his pocket. My mother’s blue beads. He must have collected them from the offering site. They were strung together, reformed into a bracelet.

He lifted my hand and wrapped them around my wrist, tying the ends into a knot. “Goodbye Nova, I will miss you.”

Jarrett entered the room a step ahead of Jesmine.

She stepped to the edge of the table and looked down at my unmoving form. Two of her fingers pressed to my throat. “Only a little life remains. She gave less fight than the last one,” Jesmine complained. “It would require too much to bring her back.”

“Yes, her heartbeat is faint. Scarcely detectable,” Jarrett agreed in a low voice. His actions had become erratic—one minute he was whispering words of encouragement, the next he seemed happy to be rid of me.

“Hardly worth the trouble.” Jesmine sighed.

“It’s so disappointing. I thought she would have given more of a fight.

I suppose I should have figured—just another weak human, after all.

” She headed back to the door. “Gather her body. I will escort you out. Arden, you will fetch another at the upcoming market.”

I hadn’t seen Arden appear in the doorway until Jesmine addressed him. His jaw set as Jesmine brushed by, she was oblivious to the rage building in his eyes.

The realization that Jesmine would continue with her cruel experiments, sacrificing one human after another, until she found a Slip willing to work with her was heartbreaking.

I wanted to confront her, attack her with everything I had left—but what was that?

I was a bodiless consciousness, weightless and invisible.

How long will this last? Seeing my death is a torment I no longer want to endure. I need to break free of whatever it is holding me here!

Arden stepped into the room to assist Jarrett. My body rested on top of a heavy sheet, which they used to lift me off the table. One man at each end, they carried me like I had seen them do with the young boy all those weeks ago.

As they left the room, my consciousness was forced to follow. They brought my physical form through the halls and up the stairs. My spirit tugged behind, like a horse on a lead.

Jesmine waited at the back door, which she unlocked and propped open. “You are both expected back by nightfall,” she said as we passed through. The door slammed closed behind us.

My spirit ached to wander—to be anywhere but there. Maybe the tether will release me now that I am beyond the obsidian walls … but my spirit could not detach.

Arden and Jarrett set me into a wooden handcart.

I glanced around at the leaf strewn yard, not feeling the chill that certainly clung in the air.

The men treated my body with care, laying me down gently, rather than tossing me in like the corpse that I was.

The scratchy blanket was arranged so my head was the only thing visible.

Neither man exchanged a word.

Arden approached the front, grasping the cart’s two long handles while Jarrett readied himself to push at the back. Clearly, this was a routine they had completed before.

I was forced to move along with them as they navigated the rocky path, wheels rattling loudly.

Are they taking me to be buried somewhere on the grounds? Please, no—how horrible it would be to be stuck here, haunting this land, so far from the ones I loved.

They skirted around to the front of the fortress, connecting with the main trail that divided the open yard. The Shadow Wilds looked on from the far edges. The men didn’t direct the cart to an open plot of earth, instead, they made a straight line toward the fire tree.

The tree’s leaves were still a vibrant orange, not a leaf lost like all the others. The cart stopped in front of its massive trunk, the constant fire burning within.

Arden opened the concealed panel on the tree’s side. He retrieved a bundle of sticks wrapped in blue string and pulled out three twigs. Approaching the hearth, he threw them in. The yellow-orange flames altered, the blaze shifting into the signature Ashloran blue.

Without hesitation, Arden pulled the cart, and Jarrett pushed from the back. The two steered my body into the tree and through the cool flames. My spirit was drawn along.

A foreign horizon came into view.

I was surprised to see that we were no longer among the Shadow Wilds. In fact, the fire tree we’d emerged from sat upon a rolling open hill. The landscape was entirely new— it must be Ashloran territory.

A well-traveled road led away from our location, parting a field of long grasses, their tips golden and brown from the crisp autumn air. Jarrett and Arden carted me down the lane, both seemingly familiar with the route.

Not too far along, an Ashlora traveler approached on foot, heading toward the tree.

As practiced at the fortress, Arden and Jarrett steered the cart to the side, letting the man pass.

The man’s gray eyes briefly scanned the cargo, yet his features remained unaffected after observing a pale human wrapped up in a blanket.

I found the whole interaction unsettling.

Toward the bottom of the hill, a small gathering of horse-drawn wagons was lined up, waiting for travelers who came from the tree. Arden pulled the handcart up to the turnaround, and Jarrett approached a waiting driver.

“Need a delivery into town?” An older man called from his perch. He had a cheerful demeanor for an Ashlora, flashing a broad grin. His white hair was combed neatly to the sides.

Jarrett stepped forward, cutting off a hesitant looking Arden. “Yeah, we have another body to be taken to the incinerator. Same as the last time. What was it, two coppers?” Jarrett asked.

Another body … same as last time. … They were talking about Claire. I hate this! I hate having to watch. Let me go! I tried to tug free from the invisible bonds once more ... nothing changed. I was forced to keep watching.

“I reckon that’ll do,” the driver replied to Jarrett. “Go ahead and load her up. I’ll take her there straight away.”

Arden stepped up to Jarrett, voice low so the driver couldn’t hear. “You really think we should give up on her? I heard Jesmine. She said there was still a little life remaining. Isn’t there a chance … maybe we could pay off a healer to see if there is something that can be done?”

Jarrett let out a humorless laugh. “Your timing is incredible.” Through clenched teeth, he added, “She came to you long ago for help, and you urged her to behave and follow orders. But now, when there is nothing left to save, now you want to be the hero? What, because you think Jesmine won’t find out about it out here?

” He stepped into Arden’s face. “It’s too late. We load her up.”

“We can at least stay with her …” Arden’s voice caught. “Until she is truly gone.”

“You know we can’t do that. Once dusk settles, Jesmine won’t even hesitate to cast her spell, dooming our families. We have to go back.”

Jarrett stepped away, leaving Arden to soak in his remorse.

I felt for Arden—he was good at his core.

I didn’t believe he held ill intentions.

Yes, he avoided conflict and had a hard time defying orders—there was no fault in being cautious rather than outspoken—but without the motivations of others pressed upon him, he meant well.

Unfortunately, having a good heart doesn't matter if you still let others do bad things around you, and worse yet, if you assist them along the way. I was conflictingly angry and understanding toward him. The truth was, if I had laid my trust in him, he would have pulled through—he did help me in the end. I could have escaped with the map and elixir he provided. It was a regret that I didn’t get to see things through with that option …

but I also didn’t regret trusting Devrix.

The men loaded my body up into the back of the jolly man’s covered wagon. Jarrett tucked the blanket tight around me, as if it mattered to keep me warm. Only my pale face was visible as Arden stood back and watched. His expression was one of bitter sadness.

The driver clucked his tongue, and the horses started to pull away.

It was the last time I would see the two men who had played a role in my daily life since I’d become the Blood Offering. Their watchful silhouettes grew smaller as my body was taken down the road, and my spirit tugged with it.

The clatter of the wagon filled the air.

I floated as far above as the tether would allow, watching the fields pass by and the wind drift through the grasses.

If my heart is still faintly fluttering in my body, once it stops, will the tether finally break, freeing me? I hope it will be soon—I don’t want to witness my body burn.

Will I encounter another drifting soul on this road? Will I come upon Claire —s he had been taken this route. If our spirits pass, I can explain to her how sorry I am. And Devrix … where can I find him? Will our paths ever cross again? I long to say goodbye.

I thought about my mother, my brother, and many others I shared happiness with during my lifetime. Endless questions came and went just as swiftly as the scenery.

The driver greeted passerby on foot and horseback, all while my body jostled around under the canopy in the back.

Buildings appeared on the ridge, but the horses turned in the opposite direction, down a less traveled road. Is the incinerator kept outside of the city?

Devrix had told me that the Ashlora cremated their dead—the body reduced to ash, so the soul was released.

Other than that, I knew little of their customs. I worried that my human soul would not find peace, after all, it was human custom to bury the body, so the soul returned to earth.

This was yet another question that I found no answer to.

When I looked at my surroundings again, the town had completely faded from view.

Something felt amiss.

The wagon pulled from the less traveled road onto a narrow track, which looked long abandoned. If a person wasn’t looking for it, they would pass by the trail entirely unnoticed.

Where is this man taking me?

Brush rubbed against the sides of the wagon as we crept along the path. Progress was slow. The path curved one direction, then another, snaking its way forward.

At last, a row of thick hedges opened up, exposing a single-level log cabin. It was quaint, if not in a state of disrepair. A small stable could be seen on the cabin’s far side, with a horse tied up out front.

This isn’t the incinerator. Maybe it’s the older man’s home … Would he really be making a stop with a corpse in tow?

The wheels drew to a stop, and the driver hopped down, making his way toward the front steps.

The cabin door swung open—someone was expecting him.

And then, Devrix emerged.