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Maybe there was hope for us after all.
…
The following week was full of training exercises designed to assess our abilities. Since the first test, fifteen recruits had been sent to the Guard. A few had surrendered to the darkness of the cave, giving into their devastating fear, and the others—
Three recruits had died.
Devoured by those water-dwelling beasts that lived below the caverns of the palace. “Salendons,” I believe they were called.
The fifth recruit I’d saved was one of those dismissed, and he seemed rather thankful for it. The poor boy, Lucas, had embraced me in a tight hug, uttering his gratitude ten times over before he’d been sent packing.
Harlow continued to appraise me as though I were the grit between his toes, a persistent scowl hardening his gaze. I wasn’t bothered, not after so many years of training with Micah. Yet, there was something besides annoyance lingering behind his stare, and if I caught his eyes for too long, the intensity of that unnameable emotion had me hastily turning away, the hair on the back of my neck rising.
Carter and Isiah, on the other hand, were patient to a fault. Whenever Isiah smiled my way, I felt as if the very gods had blessed me. It was even rarer when Carter bestowed me with a look of pride, though his approval felt well earned when received.
And the commander… I didn’t see him much, other than at dinner, and occasionally when he led the Knights into the meeting room. But he’d shut the grand mahogany doors behind him without a glance.
I wondered endlessly what they discussed in that room, if it had to do with the Mist and the curse of Asidia, and all the other secrets the king kept close to his chest.
My new friends and I speculated, but we knew nothing useful; the king had kept the realm’s curse and the true nature of the Mist under wraps. He liked his people scared and compliant.
Jake, Nic, and Patrick were good distractions.
They’d only asked about my gloves once, and when I’d shot them a menacing glower and delivered threats of violence, they’d shut up. Maybe they’d done so because deep down, they knew it wasn’t their place. Or they were truly terrified I’d knock them all on their asses. Either way, the subject hadn’t been brought up again.
I was grateful they kept my mind busy, diverting my focus from Jude and thoughts of home. I’d learned that Jake and Nic hailed from a village about twenty miles away from Cila. They claimed they were basically brothers, having grown up in and out of one another’s households since they were five.
Nic was the quieter of the two, but I had a feeling his silence had to do with leaving his girlfriend behind during The Calling. I sensed that the distance broke his heart, but a fraction of me envied him for what he shared with another, even if he’d been made to say goodbye.
My romantic life back home had been comprised of clandestine meetings, none of my partners willing to be seen with me when the town was awake. Lilah had been the only one to suggest meeting in public, but when the time came, she’d grown fearful and broken it off.
I’ll never forget how hopeful I’d felt, nor would I forget the crushing weight of betrayal when she’d all but thrust a dagger into my heart over a year ago, walking by me as if she didn’t know me, her gaggle of friends in tow, snickering behind their open palms. After that, I’d decided it was better to be alone. Even if I knew that to be a lie.
Many times, when I’d been struck by the suffocating loneliness, when I’d lie awake in bed and toss and turn, I’d wonder what it would be like to gift someone a piece of yourself and own a part of them in return. And when my plaguing thoughts grew too much, I’d sneak out of the dorms, my borrowed book tucked under my arm.
As I couldn’t risk lighting a candle in the dorms, the bathing suite was where I’d curl up and read. I’d only sifted through half of the handwritten text, and most of it reiterated what we’d already been taught in school—the five central gods and goddesses, the kingdom’s humble beginnings, and King Cirian’s bloody rise to power just years after the curse had begun.
But it was tonight, after a particularly grueling session with Harlow and an exquisitely crafted longsword, that I opened to the next chapter.
The Breaking of the Sun
A mortal man captured the eye of the Sun Goddess during her midday rise. Young and ambitious, he prayed to the goddess from atop the tallest mountain in the kingdom. Presenting his last coin as an offering, he pleaded for a more influential life.
The goddess answered.
But when he saw her in her true form, luminous and ethereal before him, the young man tumbled to his knees, awestruck and reverent.
The goddess was ravishing; cascading hair of fire fell to her waist, her heart-shaped face featuring full lips and eyes that matched the rays of light she radiated.
Captivated, the man retracted his wish, claiming he only desired to remain in her presence for a little longer.
Raina, entranced by the mortal’s adoration, urged him to stand. She decided to grant the man his wish, choosing to stay in her current form and dwell at his side.
Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, the goddess and the mortal consumed with one another’s company. It didn’t take long before they fell in love.
One day, while journeying to the southernmost region of the realm, the goddess fell from her horse, slicing open her leg. Light escaped from the wound, nearly blinding her lover. And yet, he raced over to her, shielding her light with a blanket.
Raina realized she was weakened and could no longer stay with the man during the day—a time when she was sorely missed in the heavens. She couldn’t maintain the light and walk the earth, and a decision had to be made.
