Page 18 of The Faebound Trials (Mates and Madness: The Phantom Prince and The Bloodweaver #1)

Underneath the water we were helpless.

But beyond the fields, we were doomed.

I wanted to question them, was it their intention to drown us? Did they expect us to survive drowning? Or were they testing if the water was toxic to humans too?

Either way no one would answer us. No one was willing to explain anything.

And I felt like we were worse than lab rats.

No one was willing to tell us shit.

The lease they could do was tell us what we were about to face. Tell us just anything. So, I wouldn’t feel like this.

We were down to ten. We lost more than the first test.

The water proved safe as no one choked or vomited after being submerged for minutes. We lost people because they were drowned by the Etarans.

If they wanted to know if water was harmful for us, they could’ve just asked us to drink it. They didn’t need to drown us like animals.

The blushing boy was still alive and he sat down beside me while we collected ourselves after almost drowning.

“I thought this time I was going to die,” he emphasized the word die and a snort came out of me as a response.

“Me too. I thought luck had abandoned me.”

I was smiling as I shook my head. I couldn’t believe I survived that.

“Luck tends to stick to pretty faces.”

He saw a funny expression on my face and that made him laugh.

“Well, maybe I’m still alive because you haven’t told me your name yet.”

His ears turned red and I almost laughed at how cute he was.

“You are a flirt.”

“And a good one too?”

He looked away, hiding his face.

I saw how he blushed innocently at what I said. I knew after this, I wouldn’t stop teasing him every time he gave me a chance to.

Besides, I’d rather chill and be playful than wallow in my anxiety and worry.

Misery was never a good company. And I knew I was stuck here until I healed all my wounds, might as well have some fun and take things at a better light than to fucking sob all night.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to answer my question.

When he opened his mouth to speak, I slightly saw a glint in his eyes.

It was brief but I saw it. I felt it.

“Drystan. My name’s Drystan. I’m a slave. So, I didn’t have a last name,”

I nodded.

But my attention fell on a few Etaran Stewards coming down from where the waterfall hid. Finally the rest of the guards also appeared escorting the Etarans and positioning themselves in every corner as they stood guard.

“Does that make you not like me anymore?”

I turned my head to Drystan, confused.

“I’m sorry, what?”

My mind was focused on the Etarans. And the rest to the mortals. There was this unexplainable silence. Something had changed. The understandable rage was not there.

As if the mortals were tamed. Last time, everyone was shouting, screaming, begging to be let out of this place when the test had ended.

Why are they suddenly acting as if they were domesticated?

Where are the plans? The anger? The desperation? The shouts?

Maybe it was the fear, or the acceptance that we’d die here.

Still, I turned to glance at the rest of the mortals. I shuddered as a thought crossed my mind, as I saw the hollows of their eyes were distant, and some of them were catatonic even.

I shrugged, thinking it was the trauma of the near death experience.

It’s nothing like you think.

You were like that before.

Everyone’s in shock like you were in the first test.

“Being a slave. Not having a last name. Does that make you not like me anymore?” My mind was pulled back into reality when Drystan spoke.

But I heard that. That tone. That manipulative tone.

It was similar to that manipulative glint in his eyes I saw earlier.

But my mind was back to the Etarans in front, they were walking to where we were sitting.

They brought something similar to a rectangular tray. It was covered with a cream satin fabric.

“Why would I hate you for being a slave?”

Thankfully I didn’t need to listen to whatever he was going to say next so I stood up, leaving him.

My full attention was on the item the Etarans placed atop a rock circle in the middle.

“Gather here, mortals.”

Observing, my eyes followed the line of mortal boys silent. I guess I was wrong. Everything was okay.

When Shilmarej, the Etaran steward who wore gray robes removed the cream satin fabric, I studied the pieces aligned perfectly on top of it.

It was a canine jaw of a dead animal, its teeth almost resembling a set of sharp knives molten in silver fire, plain and simple.

I wondered what kind of animal the canine once belonged to. How could it eat with such teeth? Everything was just sharp.

Somehow it reminded me more of a claw than actual teeth.

I blinked and suddenly one mortal was walking straight to where the claw was, his catatonic expression made me believe I wasn’t wrong earlier.

What is he doing?

“Hey!” one of us shouted.

But like he was in a trance, he didn’t turn, he didn’t stop.

And an unexplainable feeling bounded my feet to the ground.

My chest tightened.

Dread had settled in my bones.

What the fuck is happening?

Until it wrapped around the pulse of the mortal when he reached out to touch it.

He yelped in pain and I could only stare.

I watched until it drew blood from him. Blood gushed from the wound. The silence overwhelmed me.

And when the canines touched the blood, it turned black.

A collected gasp murmured in the room as we watched him grow sick and pale from the impalement.

No one touched him, not even the Etaran Stewards.

No one did anything as everyone just watched him convulse and shake uncontrollably.

No one removed the claw until he took his last breath.

I blinked, processing what happened. Like everything was just a dream. It was fast and fleeting as if it didn’t happen.

We were down to nine and not even an hour had passed from the last culling.

“Fuuuuuck,” a long, exasperated shout came out from me.

I felt numb. I felt trapped.

Confined.

And the only way to release the constriction in my chest was to shout.

But even that wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t even a pity. It was the frustration clogging in my chest.

The fucking reality that when things like this happen, mortals would only look. We would just watch.

No one would play hero. Not even me.

Even this was a test.

They covered the rest of the claw and one of the stewards removed it from our sight, walking away, disappearing behind the rocks beyond the waterfalls as if they just got what they wanted.

An answer.

They just wanted to know if the bite of a dead animal’s claw was harmful for us. And they got it. They got the answer they wanted.

And who paid the price for their little experiment? Whose blood was spilled?

Us.

Humans.

Mortals.

I was torn between wanting to leave, wanting to blame these fae, and wanting to end all of this for once.

Frustration bubbled up in my throat.

I was in the past and I knew this happened way before I was even born, these things were conducted because in the future Enoranthas will be a home for mortals too.

But seeing how these people here die for the sake of knowledge, for the sake of the future, my heart aches at the thought that these people would suffer for what was to come in the future.

“Knowledge comes with a price. Over the past millennia, us and mortals strive for knowledge. Knowing means to suffer in an old belief of Theseria. A much greater sacrifice builds the foundation of an era. And you are all here as the foundation of knowledge. Your great contribution is needed to build the future. Your sacrifices will not be in vain.”

My mind couldn’t process his words. Somehow, he was beginning to sound muddled.

As if he was incoherent.

Or maybe I just refused to understand his manipulative excuse. He wanted us to believe this was all for the greater good.

And I refused to believe his shit.