Page 17

Chapter

Sixteen

The black obsidian walls felt like they were closing in on me, the gleam of the stone reflecting the flickering flames from the tripods.

The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire and my shallow breaths.

My mind raced as I replayed what I’d whispered to the wind.

I hate that I’ve lied to be here.

What if someone had heard me?

What if the wind wasn’t as mindless as it seemed?

My greatest desire, my deepest secret—out there, carried on the wind for anyone, anything, to hear.

A chill ran down my spine.

Had I been careless?

The very thought made my skin prickle with anxiety.

The walls seemed to press closer, as if they knew, as if they were waiting for me to slip, to fall into the very trap I feared.

And then, the shadows moved.

At first, it was subtle—a shift in the darkness, a ripple along the floor that seemed almost alive.

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. The shadows hissed, curling and uncurling like smoke, like they had a will of their own.

I should have been terrified, but instead, a strange sense of calm washed over me, like the darkness was whispering promises of safety, of protection.

The shadows gathered, swirling in the center of the room, a dark mass that grew larger with each passing second.

My breath caught in my throat as the mass began to take shape, coalescing into the figure of a man.

No definitive features—just an outline, an impression of a man made entirely of shadow, his face indistinct but unmistakably male.

He stood there, silent and still as if waiting for something.

For me.

I didn’t know what to expect, but the shadows didn’t threaten—they beckoned, drawing me in.

The flames in the tripods flared, the fire leaping from its perch and spilling onto the floor like molten gold.

It snaked across the obsidian, encircling me, the heat licking at my boots as the circle tightened, shrinking, forcing me closer to the shadow figure.

My heart pounded in my ears, but it wasn’t fear driving it.

The fire closed in, the ring growing smaller by the second, and I knew what I had to do.

The test wasn’t just about solving riddles or outsmarting my competitors; it was about something deeper, something primal.

Embrace the darkness, or be consumed by it.

The shadowy figure extended an arm, the gesture fluid, inviting.

I hesitated, every instinct urging me to flee, to escape the fire’s relentless advance.

But there was something about the darkness—something that felt familiar, almost comforting, like the embrace of an old friend.

The flames licked closer, nearly brushing my legs, leaving me with no real choice.

I looked up at the shadow figure, its presence inexplicably calming the storm that raged within me.

Slowly, I reached out and took its hand, the coolness of the darkness seeping into my skin, a stark contrast to the scorching heat.

The moment our hands connected, the flames receded, the suffocating heat vanishing as if it had never existed.

The room began to shift, the obsidian walls dissolving into nothingness.

Then, in a move that caught me off guard, the shadow leaned in and pressed its lips to mine.

The kiss was tender, almost reverent, and I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me, though I couldn’t comprehend why.

My mind reeled, trying to make sense of the moment, but I found myself unable to resist, unable to pull away.

I didn’t fight it; the kiss anchored me.

As the shadow figure pulled back, its hand lingered, gently grazing my cheek.

The touch was fleeting but electric, sending a familiar shiver down my spine.

Then, as swiftly as it had appeared, the figure began to fade, melting into the surrounding darkness.

I stood there, breathless and bewildered, with only the memory of that unexpected kiss and the soft brush of its touch remaining as the world around me shifted once more.

When I opened my eyes, the gymnasium’s familiar walls greeted me.

The oppressive weight of the obsidian room was gone, replaced by the echoes of distant voices and the scent of sweat mingling with something else—citrus and smoke.

The air was thick with it, clinging to my senses, grounding me in reality.

I was back, standing in the center of the gym, surrounded by the hum of activity, but something had changed.

The calm I felt in the darkness lingered, a quiet strength that settled deep in my bones.

Whatever fear I’d felt before was gone, replaced by a strange, new understanding.

As the remnants of the obsidian room faded from my mind, I caught sight of Kadian.

“Thank the Gods, there you are. How do you think you did?” He patted my arms and scanned my body, looking if I’d been harmed during any of the trials.

Peeking around him, I saw Oz, Lil, and Tamra huddled together in the corner.

Tamra was animated, her hands gesturing wildly; Lil had her jovial smile, and Oz leaned back, an easy smirk on his face.

They were strong, unshaken by the trial’s intensity.

But right now, I couldn’t bring myself to share in their victories or their camaraderie.

“I’m fine, Kad. I’ll be right back.”

Kadian’s mouth gaped open as I skirted around him.

My thoughts were elsewhere, my feet moving of their own accord as I searched the room for Emia.

I’d begun to panic when Marsh appeared in front of me, blocking my path.

His face was somber, his usual lighthearted demeanor absent.

“Brida,” he whispered, “if someone fails any part of the trial…they’re sent home immediately.”

His words hit me like a blow, my breath catching in my throat.

The memory of Emia falling, the wind catching her, flashed through my mind.

I forced myself to breathe, to keep the tears at bay.

Emia had been my ally, my friend.

But I couldn’t afford to break down.

Not here, not in front of everyone.

I had to hold it together, to keep my composure, even as my heart ached with the loss.

I didn’t even know if I’d done enough to stay, if my time on the Zenith would be enough to secure my place.

But at least I’d completed all the tasks.

That had to count for something.

Marsh’s hand closed around mine.

I couldn’t help but stare at it.

It was cool but grounding.

“You had the best time on the Zenith,” he said, his voice pulling me back to the present.

“That secured your place. Anyone who comes first in a section automatically moves on to the next round.”

I blinked, the words sinking in.

I’d done it. I was moving on.

But the relief was muted, swallowed by the hollow ache left by Emia’s absence.

“Kadian was the fastest on the wall,” Marsh added, his tone lightening.

“Tamra was right behind him.”

He released my hand and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, folded note.

“Emia wanted you to have this,” he said softly.

“I was the one who caught her…and escorted her out of Azmeer.”

My heart twisted, but I nodded, taking the note from him with trembling fingers.

I didn’t trust myself to open it here, in this crowded room with so many eyes watching.

Instead, I slipped it into my pocket and managed a small, grateful smile for Marsh.

He gave me a reassuring nod before stepping back, allowing me to make my way over to Lil, Kadian, Oz, and Tamra.

Their excitement was a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me.

Before I could say anything, the Master of Trials appeared at the front of the room, his presence commanding immediate silence.

He held a list, his eyes scanning the faces in the crowd before he began to read the names of those who would be moving on.

One by one, my friends’ names were called.

Relief washed over me as their places were secured, but my thoughts remained with Emia, wondering what would become of her now.

Would she be okay? Would she find another way back to Azmeer?

The uncertainty gnawed at me, even as my own name was called, ensuring my place in the next round.

I went through the motions for the rest of the day, smiling and nodding when appropriate, but my mind was far from the laughter and chatter around me.

When I returned to my room, the weight of the day settled heavily on my shoulders.

I’d done what I could.

A step closer to helping Dad, to earning my spot.

Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it, my hand reaching into my pocket for Emia’s note.

The paper was crumpled from being carried all day, but I unfolded it carefully, my heart pounding as I read the single word written in Emia’s neat handwriting:

Dawn.