“How do you figure?”
“You heard the Arbiter. Strength and power. Resolve and ‘depth of spirit,’ whatever that means. We just completed the Trial of Strength. So, three more await.”
“Technically, the Arbiter never said that thosewerethe trials. Only that the trials woulddemandstrength and power, and that it would test our resolve and spirit.”
“Semantics.” Kit waved a hand, and the candles lit in sconces around the room were extinguished with a wet hiss, thrusting the room into peaceful darkness.
Something sharp nettled Elyria at the mention of the Arbiter’s words. Their final proclamation rang over and over in her mind.
From bitterest rivals to heartbreaking ends, two bloods shall find their way. Through sacrifice, darkness, and friendship betrayed, as dawn brings a new day.
She had many questions about why the Arbiter had decided to remind Elyria of the final lines of the prophecy, but her mind was caught on one part in particular.
Friendship betrayed.
She tilted her head toward Kit’s bed, squinting as though she might see her friend in the darkness. Surely, this was but cryptic nonsense. Some error, brought on by the Arbiter’s shock at Elyria stumbling into them. It might not have even been officially tied to the Crucible—no other champions heard the words, after all. And with multiple versions of the prophecy apparently floating around, who was to say what was the truth?
With mettle and promise, darkness and light, as dawn brings a new day.
Elyria had to admit, she vastly preferred Cedric’s version of the final line. None of this betrayal shit. Unfortunately, she also felt rather convicted that, were she forced to choose which version was likely the correct one, it would be the one that came from the mysterious glowing being who reigned over the Arcane Crucible.
Resolving to put it out of her mind, Elyria wiggled further down into her bed. Her eyelids were heavy. Had they really been at Castle Lumin only that morning? This might very well have been the longest day of Elyria’s considerable life.
“Ellie?” Kit’s voice pierced the quiet.
“Yeah?”
“Do you...do you think that Ev at least got this far?”
Elyria swallowed. “Without a doubt.”
Kit was silent.
“You knew your brother,” Elyria continued, her throat tight. “I’m sure his stubborn ass made it all the way to the very end before...well, before.”
A huff filled the dark room. “Yeah. Maybe,” Kit said.
Elyria wanted to say more—do more. Wanted to reassure Kit. But her eyes closed and before she could say another word, sleep pulled her into its embrace.
Elyria wokethe next morning to a loud chime ringing through the bedroom. Groaning, she shielded her eyes from the golden light that spilled into the room through slats in the stone walls. Kit was already awake, stretching her long arms over her head with a frown etched into her brow.
“Rise and shine, I guess,” Kit mumbled sleepily.
Before Elyria could respond, the chamber door swung open with a soft creak. Was the roomkicking them out?
“Four fucking hells,” Elyria muttered to no one in particular. “Give a girl the chance to wake up, will you?”
They made quick work of popping into the bathing room and exchanging yesterday’s torn and bloodied clothing for fresh, clean outfits. After gathering their weapons, they stepped back into the Sanctum’s main chamber, Kit jumping as the door to their erstwhile bedroom slammed shut behind them.Rude.
Steps still somewhat sluggish, they ambled toward the center of the chamber where most of the other champions had already gathered. Yesterday’s haphazardly strewn floor cushions and benches had vanished, leaving a long table laden with bowls of steaming pottage and plates piled high with bread and fruit in their stead. Elyria exchanged a ravenous grin with Kit before darting forward to claim her breakfast.
“Ahem.” A low voice let out a light cough behind Elyria’s head.
She looked up, her cheeks bulging with the bites of breakfastshe’d hastily shoveled into her mouth and met the amused stare of Cedric Thorne.
“Caahelloo?” she garbled through mouthfuls of bread.
“Er, what?” he replied, his eyebrow arched mirthfully. The scraping sound of his armor grated against Elyria’s ears as he shifted in place.
