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“The failure,” Odarum said beside me, watching the female.
We remained frozen as we watched the torture tear her mind apart. I couldn’t fathom what she was seeing as she hallucinated her worst nightmares and greatest fears—a punishment from the Gods that would last for the rest of her life.
She won’t last long. They never do.
I was right. Unable to bear the torment any longer, the female ran straight for the edge of the Rip and gave her soul back to the Gods. I looked away just before I felt her step off the edge of the world. Even though the female was vile, no one deserved that kind of death. The sentence for failure in something we had no say in competing in in the first place never sat well with me. This was their own form of damnation.
One thing still bothered me that I couldn’t let go. I ran ahead, Odarum staying behind, and approached one of the Sages at the end of the group. I was glad to be able to run again without panting for air or the pain in my leg.
“Sage, if I may have a word,” I said to the pale male. He stopped and turned to face me as he offered a bright, toothy smile.
“Of course! What can I do for you?”
“The other contestants, the ones who returned, was Njall of Oryn one of them?” I needed to know. The last time I saw Njall he was badly injured, and an arrow was headed straight for him before I was taken from the Woltawa Forest.
“I’m afraid that I don’t know their names. The Spirits tell us only of those that are Worthy. We don’t even know who all perished in the Trial.” He placed a hand on my shoulder.
“You mean to tell me that the Sages don’t even bother to take record of who entered the Trial?” I crossed my arms and offered a stern look.
Absurd. Absolutely absurd. Scholars would never be so negligent as to not even document the names of the contestants.
“It does not matter to the Sages who enter the Trial. Only the Worthy who return.” His voice was apologetic.
I took a deep breath. “How many returned?”
His face turned downcast. “Not counting the Worthy, such as yourself, five completed the Trial. Plus the…failure.”
I huffed in disbelief.
Only five out of nineteen.
In the shape he was in, it was unlikely that Njall was one of them.
“And where are the returned now?” There was still a chance, and I’d like to see for myself.
“After their marks were removed, they departed.”
It was the one thing that I couldn’t decide how I felt about. Most of the Trial made me furious—but, at least, not all the contestants shared the same fate as those who failed. If you passed but weren’t deemed Worthy, you were still allowed to live. Growing up, I couldn’t decide what I wanted more. If I wanted to make it out alive and be able to live a normal life, or if I wanted to be Worthy. Most saw the removal of their marks as cruel. They believed it was their own form of punishmentfor not being chosen—having them removed hid the evidence of what we were forced to endure. It was as if the Gods were ashamed and wanted nothing more to do with us, and now that the Sage admitted to not even bothering to record everyone’s names, I was starting to agree.
“How long ago?” Frustration was beginning to seep out of me.
“I beg your pardon?”
“How long ago did they leave?”
The Sage swallowed. “Last night. Before dusk.”
“We were still in the forest last night.” I shook my head.
He gave that sad smile again. “They arrived nearly a day before you.”
My mouth fell open and I whipped my head to Odarum.
“I was in Hylithria for an entire day?” My mental voice screeched down the bond. It had only felt like a few hours in the Spirit realm.
“Time is perceived differently in different realms. This should not be surprising.”
“Right. Because fae know so much about time in other realms.” If he noticed my sarcasm, he didn’t show it, and he didn’t respond to my retort.
