Chapter one
I’ve come to realize that solitude isn’t a weakness. It’s a delicate strength. And if you aren’t careful, it can become highly addictive.
The second thing I’ve recognized is that when you’re alone, it’s harder to hide from what you’re becoming. Which is why I’m currently sitting in this darkened, run-down pub brimming to the rafters with people. The very same individuals who make my brain feel like it’s dying. Gasping for that last sliver of breath.
All the while, death sits in the corner, and impatiently waits to claw its way down my throat.
But I’m not the one death will ultimately claim.
The stench of stale ale permeates my nostrils as I let my eyes roam over the dimly lit room, filled with too many bodies and not enough air. They just sit in here laughing and hiding behind their cups, pretending their world isn’t one fragile stone away from crumbling.
They’re naive.
And they’ll die for it.
Civilians of Salaryan, the same ones who don’t care if their abilities are allowed to manifest. You can bet your ass they will be the first ones screaming for help, though. If I don’t get away from this place soon, my biggest fear is that I’ll become just like them. Content to bury my head in the sand and stay complacent. To never reclaim what should never have been taken in the first place.
Sweat builds on the palms of my hands, and my cloak feels like it’s too heavy. I feel like I’m suffocating. I rub the moisture on my lap and look around for the nearest exit. It dawns on me this probably wasn’t one of my best ideas as the door I came in swings open, and a handful of loud men who can’t seem to hold their ale or their loud opinions burl through.
This dingy establishment leaves a lot to be desired, and not just in the clientele. The once claret-colored paint on the walls is so faded it now resembles chipping rust. Warped wooden planks protrude from the ground in various places, and the booth beneath me wobbles every time I so much as breathe, as if it’s fighting for its life. The wooden beams holding up the ceiling sag and look as if they might crumble in defeat at any moment.
Candlelight flickers against the warped glass windows, throwing eerie shadows across the faces of patrons eager to forget. This was the kind of crowd that lingered because they had nowhere else to go.
Some would go as far as to call this place a complete and utter shit-hole.
My lips pull up in a faint smile, half guilt and half defiance. I knew coming here was a mistake, but I did it anyway.
Voracious laughter from my left causes me to duck my head slightly lower than normal.
It’s obvious he’s not coming, and I was an idiot for believing he could get out of the academy and back without anyone noticing.Even after picking the nearest city, which was small enough not to be on the academy’s radar but large enough to be discreet, it was a long shot that he could sneak away and meet up.
I tuck my hair behind my ear and make sure my hood is securely in place before sliding out of the worn-down booth, the wood creaking beneath my weight. Head down and chin tucked, I avoid making eye contact with anyone. I don’t want to give them a reason to remember me being here.
I head toward the back, silently disappearing through the crowd. At nineteen years old, and not exactly the type to frequent shady company, I’ve never been here before. I kind of planned on just leaving the way I came in, but the crowd has doubled since I arrived. I don’t feel like trying to elbow my way through.
I slip into the long hallway tucked to the side. The candles sitting in the tarnished brass holders flicker, casting shadows on the peeling walls. It really adds a nice touch ofI’m about to dieto the putrid ambience.
Walking quickly and tossing glances behind me sporadically, I head toward the end of the hallway before cutting a sharp left and breathe in a deep sigh of relief.
There’s a door.
Thank fuck there’s a door.
It’s partially hanging off its hinges, but it’s there.
It takes everything in me not to run toward it to just be able to take a full breath of fresh air again. One that’s not filled with alcohol and body odor.
The moment I step outside, the cool night air slaps me in the face, reminding me I’m alive, and for the moment, it’s a blessing. Tomorrow might change that opinion, but tonight, I have things worth living for.
Without a backward glance I make my escape. “This was a dumb idea,” I mumble, kicking a pebble as I walk down thedark, cobbled street, shadows following in my wake. Each step is heavy with disappointment. Of all the nights for one of our plans not to come together, the night before the start of Asylamation would be the absolute worst-case scenario.
Welcome to the worst-case scenario.
This little excursion should have given me a nice edge over my competition. Something that someone like me, adequate to the core, desperately needs. I’m not too proud to admit that, thus far in my short life, I haven’t really excelled at anything. I’ve just been sufficient. An abundance of mediocracy. To finally be able to take part in the initiation period is all I’ve been able to think about. To be able to manifest what has been mine since birth but withheld. I’d love nothing more than to show those who always doubted me that they can choke on it.
A quick motion to my right catches my eye, but too late, I realize my mistake as a hand lands over my mouth, blocking any scream. The attacker’s other hand rests right below my rib cage, effectively trapping me.
“Leaving so soon, brat?” a deep voice purrs into my ear.
