AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I stood over the man lying limp on the floor, unmoving, not breathing, a knife handle stuck out the front of his neck. Perfectly aimed, perfectly placed, like I had practiced the move a thousand times. His eyes were wide; the last expression he wore was one of shock and suffocation as the blade drew blood into his throat and choked his breath. He was dead.
I killed him.
My body numbed as I backed away from his corpse. My hands shook uncontrollably. The guilt—the shame—made me sick. I collapsed some feet away from the body and vomited the entire canteen of water, it stung my tongue and burned my throat raw as the shame inside me. With the flick of a knife, I decided someone’s life was unworthy of living. I’d once believed there was nothing worse than dying a nameless death, but I was wrong.
Murder was much worse.
If it weren't for my sobs echoing throughout the pit, I might have heard the footsteps approaching behind me. My attention remained so fixed on the dead body I didn't even notice the ethereal presence until it stood between us.
"Dry your tears, little one. Don’t fret over a bit of spilled blood.” The voice was smooth yet full of command, like a blade beneath silk. The soothing sound stopped my tears altogether and demanded my full devotion. As I raised my head from my tear-stained hands, a figure stepped into my line of vision. My eyes traced the flowing skirt upward to view the face owning a voice so lovely.
Queen Eivor.
I had only seen the queen once, during our unit-wide graduation from students to runners, and she looked exactly how she had ten years ago. Hair as dark as the world beyond my secret window, the deepest shade of black rivaling only the night itself. Her skin was pale like milk from the distant kingdom of Vasseri, where they still raised animals. But what captured me most were her eyes, a color I had never seen occur naturally—a deep violet as beautiful as the rich fabrics from Helencort. Her lavender gaze studied me as I wiped the tears and blood from my cheeks. A diluted crimson streak stained the back of my hand.
"Your Majesty, I apologize," I said, finding my feet and keeping my head low out of fear laden respect. "I don't know what came over me, I didn't mean to—"
"Do not finish that sentence, Arya. You’ve made me proud, don't ruin it with apologies." She interrupted.
She’s proud of me? Proud I was bleeding in three different places and killed a man?I gradually lifted my eyes to meet hers, cautiously testing the weight of her gaze. "I don't understand. I failed this test miserably."
"You did not fail, little one. You proved you’re ready," she replied. "Go. Get cleaned up and head straight to my throne room. Be prompt. We have much to discuss before you depart tomorrow." She turned to leave, skirts twirling as she spun gracefully on her heel. The golden damask pattern glinted against the torchlight, making the gilded thread dance among a sea of black fabric.
"Before I leave tomorrow? Are you saying—"
Her steps never faltered, each sure and steady as the conviction in her voice. "Aye, you're running tomorrow. So, I suggest you get those wounds stitched up as well." She continued to walk out of the pit, my sentencing sealed with a door slamming shut behind her. I stood there alone, dumbfounded and shocked.
Shocked as the dead man staring back at me.
3
I was escortedby a group of guards I didn't know to a part of the mountain I’d never been before. Mallo had made sure I’d bathed thoroughly and my wounds were sutured shut before I reported to the queen, my skin free of dried blood and raw from removing several layers sullied with filth. My old training leathers felt rather dingy in the grandness of Her Majesty's court. My insecurities flourished underneath crystal chandeliers and painted wallpaper. Actual rugs lined the floor, carpets of various blues, greys, and purples all swirling together in an intricate design. The plushness felt strange beneath my feet.
The corridors were carved taller and broader than the halls I usually traversed, making room for elegant furniture made of metals and woods fashioned smooth as bones. I was small here, insignificant in size and appearance, wanting to shrink behind a velvet chair and avoid the vulnerability lingering in my shadow and stalking my steps. This place was too surreal, too beautiful to feel natural. But perhaps that was the point of it all—a queen could live forever in the luxury she distracted herself with.
I followed her guards to the end of a hall where a pair of gilded doors stood beckoning. I assumed this was the infamous throne room where the queen resided and met with her Chosen—where she would meet with me. The idea still set my heart aflutter in an incredulous thrill.
Each guard grasped a handle, pulling the doors back in unison and sending a rush of cool air through my unbound hair. There, on the other side of the threshold, was the next chapter to my story. I was steps away from claiming everything I’d ever wanted, a victory within reach after a lifetime of painful waiting. But I paused, hesitating. The open doors summoned me forward while my heart demanded stillness.
Everything here was beautiful and inviting, pleasing to the eye and alluring to the soul. But it all felt feigned, like the lavish decorum was simply a cover to hide the ugly underneath, the darkness that still veined from the heart of the mountain. I could scrub all the blood and sweat from my skin, stitch my wounds back together, and face the world as the carefully crafted Chosen I was born to be. But underneath it all, I was still the same tortured girl, the same scarred, haunted child who devoted herself to the mountain and its cause. That was what being among this luxury was like—a pretty face masking an ugly backstory.
I sighed, swallowed, and smoothed sweaty palms down the length of my thighs. There was no choice but to put one foot in front of the other, no other option besides the one lying ahead. The wavy strands of my hair settled long down my back as I took another step across the threshold to the large room—and to the rest of my life—on the other side.
"Arya! You certainly are as quick as they say. Splendid!"
Queen Eivor sat upon her golden throne, which surpassed a level of beauty I hadn't even known existed. We stood twenty paces apart beneath a vaulted dome ceiling. The black granite above had been painted over, immediately capturing my attention with a multitude of colors. I stretched my neck and stared in shameless admiration, wondering how anyone could imagine a scene as breathtaking as the one above me.
"It's the daytime," she explained, noticing the slack in my jaw and the whites of my eyes growing wider the longer I stared. The span of the ceiling was blue, the same blue as my eyes, but better. The color was interrupted with patches of white, wispy strands of various sizes in no particular pattern. In the center was a large, golden orb, with rays extending the span of the entire ceiling.
"The day? You mean this is what the sky used to look like?" The awe leaked from my voice. Our world had been shrouded in night for the past century, there wasn't a soul alive now who’d lived during the age of the sun. But it was probably a blessing we were all ignorant of what the day looked like, because if I had seen the real version of this mural, I'm not sure my sanity would ever let it go.
"Aye, and one day, it will return,” she said smoothly.
Right.Whenever the gods decided to wake up and restart time. Perhaps they weren't asleep at all. Perhaps they really were dead, as most people called them, and humanity was stuck in an eternal night, forever cursed with the images of what we’d once taken for granted. Either way, no one was hopeful to see this painting come to fruition.
She continued to speak in the absence of my response. "But until then, we have much to do, and you need to extract some news from the kingdom of Grimsbane."
"Grimsbane? Is it time for shipments?" Tearing my attention away from the sky, I found her eyes concentrated on me. My mouth watered at the mention of an official run. Grimsbane was one of the largest of the five lower kingdoms and the capital of the realm of Valdihr, home to the citadel, where the queen's Dark Army lived, trained, and served. The citadel was to the soldiers as the mountain was to runners.
