Page 12 of The Faebound Trials (Mates and Madness: The Phantom Prince and The Bloodweaver #1)

Lab rat. That was his plan. I was about to be a lab rat. A test subject.

This wasn’t what I signed up for. This wasn’t what I had in mind. Everything went wrong when they found out I was a bloodweaver.

I was brought to a place where an ancient underground lies, where ancient texts glow in gold on a green plated stone that stretches around 15 meters high. The absence of forest and life made me wonder if this ancient underground floor remained in the modern picture of Enoranthas I had in mind.

I craned my neck to see the ceiling was carved using metal and stone. It could be bronze or copper but it was too smooth to be one.

I looked around and gasped at the vivid and complex systems of floors. The ancient use of mechanisms that somehow felt too advanced for its time.

I didn’t sense electricity, nothing of that sort. Everything that powers this ancient underground city hums with Etaran magic.

And it breathes, it beats . I recognized the familiar thrum of the fae core somewhere beneath the ground. But I still couldn’t grasp how far it was from where I stood.

I was the last to arrive.

I was the last to stand on the empty spot.

There stood 15 boys, all bound by Etaran magic, all were beaten and bruised.

I was the only girl.

And I was the only one who wasn’t hurt.

My eyes widened when I saw the familiar boy. He was limping from where he stood, he couldn’t even stand straight.

What did they do to him?

I looked around.

The light hit the silver glare of metal and I saw the guards standing at the corners, they wore gray armor, they wore identical steel masks, covering their whole face, but I could see the point of their ears protruding from their armor.

There were no engravings except lines that somehow reminded me of tree roots that run across the entirety of their armor. Their silver sword hung elegantly at their side.

It wouldn’t be easy to run.

But it wouldn’t hurt to see how they try to run with that stiff armor dragging their feet down.

An Etaran stood in front, his long gray coat was tailored to fit his physique, a black embroidery similar to roots or veins enhanced his silhouette. The coat was evidently stiff to the neck; it was also embellished with an ancient Etaran symbol. His brown hair was braided but the rest cascaded down his back. And his face was the type to never show a smile.

“Untie me!” one of the boys shouted.

His muted red hair was wild against his back. He looked around frantically.

“Where are we? Let us go!” Another boy thrashed.

The boy was badly shaking, and no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t move his feet outside the stone.

That was how I realized the circle platforms we were standing on nailed us in place.

“Untie us, creature!” His left eye was badly bruised, and a purplish hue formed around it.

That didn’t sound nice.

The Etaran didn’t mind. He seemed unbothered. Oh right, maybe he couldn’t understand our language. But wait. Mortals and Etarans had similar structure in sentences.

It was still a mystery to me how I could speak or understand their language.

“I cannot untie you. Nor will the forest let you leave. You entered our forests of your own will.”

When he spoke, I guess it was all magic. Something in the air makes us understand each other. The mortals could understand him even though I knew he was speaking Etaran, and the mortals were speaking a dead language and I could understand both.

We didn’t like what we heard.

The rest of the boys argued. Some blamed the forests, some recounted how he was hunting a deer and was lured to a creek. And then he fell and when he woke up the forest had become unfamiliar.

Some were shouting they needed to get back home to their families that they had been wandering around the unfamiliar forests for weeks already before they encountered the same silver armored knights.

That they were lost in the shifting forests and had been walking around in circles for days, blaming the forests for luring them here.

That none of this was of their own will.

I couldn’t see the faces of the rest because I was standing at the last spot behind 15 men. There were four rows.

The Etaran acted as if he heard nothing. As if those were mere accusations and excuses.

“Mortals had a long history of stumbling upon the forests of Enoranthas. And contrary to your belief, our magic only lures the corrupted. One who had thoughts of evil and sin.”

My eyes narrowed.

“We’re humans. We’re designed to sin. Each one of us was born like this.”

“Yes. You are correct. But they were not as rotten as the rest of you.”

Silence enveloped us like a thick veil.

I was offended because he was right.

The rest didn’t hold back. The Etaran remained calm as if none of us could ever shatter his peace.

But then I realized his words.

But they were not as rotten as the rest of you.

One who had thoughts of evil and sin.

I slowly looked around to look at the faces of the men standing beside me. It could be he was saying that all of us had done unimaginable things.

What sins had they committed? A shiver trickled down my back.

Mine was murder. Greed and violence.

I wanted to escape my fate. And I had to steal one by murdering someone that I shouldn’t have.

And this was the payment. The curse of stealing one’s life, one’s destiny, one’s name.

And they knew. Even before I took the test.

They knew I was corrupted. They kept telling me even before when I was in my timeline.

The Etaran’s knew I was a Corrupt because they could see through us. But how?

“You can only blame yourselves. But Enoranthas is not a place for atonement. What you have done has nothing to do with us. You are a victim of your own sins.”

“What are you saying?” another boy snapped.

“Enoranthas will offer help but you have to do something in return.” Silence filled the place. “We have no power to control the gates of the forests, to let go of the Corrupted Mortals. But we can help you achieve the key back to your own world.”

“Tell me what do we have to do?” one of the mortals in my row asked. And the rest of us shouted the same.

The air was thick with anticipation. My hands grew clammy as I waited for him to answer the question that has been plaguing us.

“We need you to test if Enoranthas’ air is toxic to mortals or not. If it’s habitable for you . Each one of you will be the very first mortals to ever step foot in the lands of Enoranthas. And if you have proven that the best of the Corrupted Mortals can survive in the fae realm. We will reward you accordingly.”