Page 6 of Trivium

She patted her cheeks and forehead with cool, damp hands in an effort to quell the heat. The temporary reprieve relaxed her slightly and she stretched her neck. Thick wavy black hair framed her face, sticking to her medium brown skin that glistened from a day’s worth of work in the stifling print room. Her youth hid her lack of sleep, but her raw, chewed lips betrayed her, showing the toll of her anxiety.

What if she was making the wrong decision?

What if she was heading off to the Academy to die?

Of course, no one talked about it, but that was the reality. Guarding the city from the creatures beyond was a battle. A war. One where your life was at risk every single day. Even though Ahmina had every intention of becoming a Clever, which was an inherently less risky specialty than a Slayer, she was still expected to put her life on the line. No Defender, regardless of speciality, could avoid battle.

Trying to force every anxious thought away, she shifted her mind to the task at hand, venturing back through the library. The library was undeniably beautiful. As one of the oldest buildings in Jarrah, its creators had taken the utmost care in designing it to be a work of art. Its vast shelving and woodwork meshed seamlessly with the tree trunks. Branches and vines grew between wood panels and around glass tiles, making it look like the library was birthed by the forest itself. Its outer edges housed rows and rows of bookshelves reaching high up to the ceiling and in the center was a common space, decorated with heavy wooden tables and long benches where most guests sat to read and study. This was the last time she would see the library for a while, so she took in every detail like she was trying to sear it into her mind.

She never wanted to forget it.

Her favorite place.

Her home.

Most days, she would rather escape life in Jarrah by falling into the pages of a book. Usually a love story. She was a romantic at heart, after all. But today, her chaotic thoughts clambered at her skull, and she needed a stronger distraction.

The library had quieted down, and everyone had left by the time she cleaned up the books left out from visitors, piling them into her arms as she walked through the tables. She ventured though the stained-glass doors that lead out into the courtyard, picking up any remaining books. Framed by the adjacent architecture, the courtyard housed an array of trees, flowers, and plant life. Branches reached tall beyond the library’s roof, shading the seating area below, and at this time of night, she could see the Glowbugs starting to appear.

She had wandered through the last of the tables, blowing out the candles on each of them one by one, when she noticed it—a black shadow prowling at the edge of the garden—and she froze, muscles tensing. Even in the dimming daylight, she could make it out clearly with its panther-like midnight coat and glowing cherry eyes staring her down.

A Soul Snatcher.

She knew the creature instantly from her books, but how could it be? She blinked to ensure she was seeing correctly, her heart rate picking up.

In front of her stood one of the most elusive and destructive creatures. She knew it because she had studied The Complete Encyclopedia of Cruel Creatures relentlessly. The creature could rob her soul right then and there and do with it as it pleased. No one would know. No one could stop it. Ahmina shuddered, the hairs on her arms standing on end.

There were only two ways out of this and one ended in death. Before she could overthink it, she spun on her toes and sprinted back toward the glass doors. But the deadly creature was in front of her in an instant, and she ground to a halt. The library had emptied an hour ago. No one was here. No one could save her.

Out of instinct, she hurled one of the books stacked in her arms at the animal, aiming for its head, but the animal dodged it like she was a child throwing pieces of bread. Simply an inconvenience.

Clutching the books in her arms like some sort of protective shield, she watched breathlessly as the Soul Snatcher tilted its head to the side, its breath hot on its lips, studying her. She instinctively took a step back, panicking as the animal lowered its muzzle, getting ready to pounce. A deep, guttural growl sent a jolt of fear through her.

Don’t go, the creature said into her mind. But she wasn’t going to let the beast trap her. Acting on adrenaline alone, she threw the last of her books at the creature and ran as fast as she could past it, slamming the patio glass doors closed behind her.

Her heartbeat was so frantic, she could feel it pulse in her ears. When she could finally move her limbs again, she pressed her back against the cool glass door before eventually turning to check that the Soul Snatcher had gone.

She just faced a Goddess-dammed Soul Snatcher.

She felt sick.

To quell her nausea, she walked through the rows of books, her hand instinctively cupped over her mouth, as the reality of what just happened settled in.

If a Soul Snatcher was here, in the library garden, it had gotten over the wall, and that meant all of Jarrah was in danger. So, the rumored breaches were true.

Magical creatures were as tricky as they were deadly. It wasn’t just their sharp fangs and claws, abnormal strength, or quick, agile movements that could tear you apart in minutes. Creatures had magic, something humans did not. Spiritual, mental, or physical. They each had a dangerous power.

And apparently they had telepathy too. The reality of the creature’s words sank into her mind. Don’t go.

How did it get over the wall? And all the way to the library which was in central Jarrah. It was virtually impossible for it to travel that far without being seen. Of course, people gossiped about creatures getting past the wall and hunting humans. Ahmina never thought any of it was actually true. Not in her lifetime, anyway. But only moments ago it was here, with razor sharp teeth and a soul-seeing gaze that bore into her face. The truth snaked around her chest, tightening its grip on her lungs. Something was very, very wrong.

As she approached the front desk—which still held a mountain of books to be sorted and put away—she noticed the front door was propped open. Elder Muaka must have left it open, she reasoned.

Kicking away the stone wedged under its bottom ridge, she leaned back, putting all her weight into closing the large oak door. But before she could, a man slipped in.

Not just any man.

A Defender.