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Ryker
Blood drained from my face and dread settled as I saw my Worthy mark, faintly glowing an angry red—a warning of my eventual doom. The intense visceral reaction never eased with each initiation of a Trial. For the third time, my status as Lord, my life, was threatened.
I may have been a powerful Worthy, protector of my Nation, but all that power couldn’t stop the undeniable fear coursing through my veins.
Keeping my features neutral, I quickly masked my scent before it reached the diplomats sitting around the table during the meeting. Unfolding my rolled-up sleeve and pushing it down to cover the flowing swirls and symbols of Xareus, I struggled to pay attention to the conversation—my thoughts flooding with memories of past challenges and worries of another to come.
Maybe Xareus would get rid of me and choose someone from Dusan, Gaol, or Torx. Perhaps he’d be a bastard and select someone from our rival Nation, Ulrik. Or maybe he’d replace me with someone from my own Nation. Now that would have been fucking cruel—to force me to fight for my life against someone I had sworn to protect.
But the Gods were ruthless. I wouldn’t have put it past them.
A throat cleared, and I glanced up from my covered arm to find the room looking at me expectantly. Mavris narrowed his eyes questioningly. I subtly shook my head. It wasn’t the time or place to discuss what was occurring.
“I apologize,” I said to the room. “Something has come up. Continue to coordinate with Mavris. He will see that your concerns are dealt with. Excuse me.”
I stood from my chair at the head of the long table and left the hall as wide, shocked eyes followed me. In the three hundred years since I was initiated as Lord, I had never left in the middle of an assembly. But I couldn’t think. I wasn’t able to give their words the consideration they deserved.
Ten days.
Time was conditional upon the one perceiving it. Ten days of suffering felt comparative to that of a lifetime. Yet, having the awareness that you may have only ten days left until you were challenged for a life you could very well lose seemed so limited. It was the only thought consuming my mind.
I went upstairs, down the dim corridor, through the doors, and onto the balcony. The chilled wind instantly cooled my heated skin. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the crisp air and willing myself to calm. Though I had been through this before, and came out victorious each time, the foreboding left me anxious that this time would be different. I leaned on my forearms against the railing, looking down at the city below and the people I had defended for centuries. The streets I walked, the shops I visited, the memories I had created—all of it could be taken away.
Ten days.
What if that was all that was left?
“Ryk, what’s gotten into you?” Mavris asked as he stepped onto the balcony behind me.
I didn’t speak, too lost in my thoughts to explain to my brother that, once again, I would be leaving and may never come back. He wouldn’t even know until the new Worthy appeared on the palace doorstep to take my place as ruler.
Resting against the railing next to me, his eyes grew concerned.
“What is it?” Mavris’ voice was stern.
I rolled up my sleeve and presented my glowing arm.
He drew in a sharp breath. “Well, I mean, it’s not like you weren’t expecting it. We all knew it would be sometime before Nailu.”
“I know.” I nodded slowly.
He was quiet for several moments, following my gaze over the city. “It’ll be fine. You’ll be back.”
I huffed a humorless laugh. “And if I’m not?” I turned to face him with raised eyebrows.
“You will. Or else, I’ll piss right off the edge of the Rip all over your corpse,” he said with a straight face.
The side of my mouth twitched up. “That’s a pretty cruel way to treat your only brother.”
“Then I suggest you ensure you get your ass back here.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “We need you.”
“Thanks, Mav.”
I spent the next few days trying to get everything ready. I knew that Mavris hated it, but I refused to be less than fully prepared. While I hoped to return, I wanted to ensure my peoplewere cared for if I didn’t. I took my duty as protector seriously, and I continued to do so even considering my death.
Getting a new Worthy was a rough adjustment for a Nation. It could have been someone they knew, or some stranger from another Nation. Regardless, a time of acclimation was required for everyone, and I would make damn sure that they had the smoothest transition possible.
“Ryk?” Mavris rapped on my study door as he opened it.
