Chapter 56
CHAPTER 56
Dayton
T he clash of tridents echoes through the jungle as I face my master. His movements are fluid and precise. Meanwhile, I feel the weight of my own failure with every strike, dragging me down like anchors into a tempestuous sea.
Maybe I could blame it on this new weapon—I always favored the dual swords—but Justus made sure I was well-versed in all weaponry. You never know what you’ll be forced to wield in the arena , Justus had said over and over. Never know when your sword may shatter, and you must pick up your comrade’s spear on the battlefield.
It’s not a lack of skill that has been fumbling my grip, that has him pinning my trident again and again and again.
I let out a frustrated breath as I dig it out of the soft earth. It had glowed when I first wielded it, but now it looks ordinary and dull. “Isn’t this thing supposed to be legendary?”
“A divine weapon is only as legendary as the person who wields it,” Justus says. “Again.”
Another sigh, and I gesture to Rosie sitting in the shade of a tree. “Shouldn’t she have another turn?”
“Rosalina has finished her lesson for this morning,” Justus says. “She did a damn fine job of it.”
“Ahh.” I toss a wink her way. “Guess we can’t all be as perfect as you.”
She smiles reassuringly. “You can do this, Dayton. Win the next one for me.”
I haven’t won a single spar against Justus since we arrived on this damn island, so I’m not sure where her confidence comes from. I can’t help but stare a moment longer, her big brown eyes shining amber in the sunshine.
How can she still look at me like that after what I’d told her yesterday? Hero. She’d called me a hero. If it were anyone else, I would dismiss them entirely, but Rosalina is always truthful. She’s so good and kind and brave. How can she see those things in me?
I still can’t believe I was able to talk about it. I hadn’t realized how trapped inside of me those memories were until they played out before us. Being with Rosie made it easier.
“I’ll try, Blossom,” I say and turn back to Justus. He stands waiting, wearing only light-leather armor and worn sandals.
The rumors have never done the first High Prince of Summer justice. He may use a different name now, but he can’t hide that sense of power.
“Come on, boy,” he says. “Let’s get to it.”
Heaving in a deep breath, I tighten my grip on the Trident of Honor and charge. With each thrust and parry, I struggle to keep pace, my movements hesitant and faltering against his relentless onslaught.
Sweat drips down my brow. We need to return to Summer and enter the games, which means winning a spar against him. But there’s no opening, no move I can take to gain advantage. This stupid trident seems no more powerful than any other hunk of metal.
“Would you like to know why I decided to train you, boy?” Justus growls.
“Because I wouldn’t leave you alone?” I say, driving the prongs of the spear toward him, which he easily dodges.
“No.” He sweeps his own trident beneath my legs, and I fall hard to the ground. “Untapped potential. The same as I see in you now. Wells of it.”
I push to my feet, barely blocking a blow aimed at my face.
“I watched your brothers fight in the arena,” Justus continues. “They were as powerful as they would ever be.”
“So, you took pity on me, the youngest brother.”
“No, I saw in you the only one worthy of Summer’s Blessing.”
“That’s not true,” I growl, anger rising in me. “My brothers were near gods.”
Justus gives a humorless laugh, slashing across my shoulder. “Damocles was so obsessed with glory, it made him brash. He made decisions to elevate his status as a revered victor. Decimus was strong, but it made him reckless, made him think he was invincible. They were unworthy of Summer’s Blessing.”
“Be quiet, old man.”
“Why? It’s what you’ve always known deep in your bones, Daytonales. That’s why they’re dead.” Justus lunges, his trident slicing through the air. I narrowly avoid his attack before countering with a swift thrust of my own. Our tridents clash with a metallic clang, the force of the impact reverberating through my arms.
“That’s not true,” I growl.
“You’ve been holding yourself back your whole life. Admit why .”
I shake my head, hair falling in my face. “I haven’t. I’m the only undefeated gladiator to fight in the Sun Colosseum. I couldn’t have done that if I was holding back!”
“Another lie. Even holding back, you’re twice as good as anyone there.”
I press forward, seeking an opening in Justus’s defenses, but he moves with fluid grace, deflecting each of my strikes effortlessly. His experience is evident, his movements calculated and precise. I grit my teeth.
“I watched you spar against Damocles your whole life,” Justus says. “Watched you fumble and lose every time. Maybe not consciously, but still, purposefully.”
“He had Summer’s Blessing!” I shout.
“Even with it, you could have beaten him. Couldn’t you?”
Memories of sparring with my brothers come back to me in flashes. Could I have defeated Damocles? An uncomfortable sensation pricks in my belly as I realize I already know the answer.
“You’ve always been able to see every tell of your opponents. You saw theirs too. Tell me the truth.”
My heart careens in my chest. Feinting to the left, I quickly pivot and lunge toward Justus’s right side, aiming for an exposed flank. But he anticipates my move, smoothly sidestepping my attack and countering with a rapid series of strikes. I barely manage to parry each blow, feeling the strain in my muscles with each block.
“Damocles,” I grit out, “was always observing the crowd in the arena. Even when we practiced, he was always looking around to see if our parents were watching. It made him distracted.”
“And Decimus?”
“He was overconfident,” I say. “He’d come out swinging, but in a prolonged battle, he’d tire easily. Put him against a quick opponent and he couldn’t keep up.”
“Yes. Magic never called to them the way it did to you, isn’t that right?” Justus continues. “They made you feel lesser for your call to the sea, for the wind at your command, but it was only because they knew they could only reply with their blades.”
As the intensity of our fight escalates, I struggle to keep pace with Justus’s relentless assault.
“Your brothers were right about one thing,” Justus says. “You are afraid.”
Sweat beads on my brow as I focus on maintaining my footing, searching for an opportunity. This needs to end. I turn to Rosalina. One hand is clutched to her heart.
“You are as afraid now as you were then,” Justus continues. “Afraid of what it would mean if you challenged your elder brother and won. Admit to me what you’ve always known!”
“I don’t know what that is!”
“You don’t hate yourself because you let your brothers leave without you. You hate yourself for hiding your strength your whole life. For muting your potential with drink and gallivanting.”
My vision grows hot, and I press back the attacks. “Sounds like a fucking great time to me.”
Justus laughs bitterly. “Say it, Daytonales. What would have happened if you’d shown your true potential? The potential I saw in the mountains while training you? The one you only reveal like glimpses of the sun through clouds?”
“I don’t know what you’re going on about, old man!”
“The Blessing doesn’t always go to the eldest when passed willingly. Your mother could have chosen any one of you. Damocles had the Blessing when Hadria fell. It passed to Decimus before it came to you. Neither of them could save the city, yet you did. You , Daytonales.”
With a sudden burst of adrenaline, I seize the moment, unleashing a flurry of strikes in rapid succession. Justus defends himself skillfully, but I manage to find a gap in his armor, grazing his side with a well-placed thrust. “Damocles was the greatest. He always wanted to be High Prince. He said he was born for it.”
“What if he was wrong?” Justus yells. “Tell me what you know!”
Justus’s trident slices forward with precision. I meet his strikes head-on, parrying each blow. The clang of tridents shatters the air, yet all I hear are the words of the Enchantress: Here stands the fool, who escapes within the flesh for fear of his fate. Who languishes his time and talent. Here stands a beast who will let his realm go to rot as long as his mind is muddled enough not to comprehend.
I wasn’t cursed because they died. I was cursed because I abandoned my realm, because I refused to wield the gift as a High Ruler should.
“Tell me what you know!” Justus screams again.
“She should have chosen me!” I shout back. “If my mother had passed the Blessing to me, they all might still be alive.”
With a swift feint to the left, I catch Justus off-guard, closing the distance between us in a flurry of motion.
“What does that mean, Day?” Rosalina calls. She’s moved closer to us, eyes shining.
What does that mean? What does it mean? Hero , that’s what she called me. If I let go of the fear, of the guilt, what does it mean? My skin seems to hum, a torrent of fire inside my chest. Tears and sweat drip down my cheeks.
“It means,” I growl, “I was meant to be the fucking High Prince of Summer.”
With a surge of determination, I channel this newfound energy. The Trident of Honor glows bright beneath my palm, light dancing along its length.
Justus’s eyes widen in astonishment. For a moment, time seems to stand still as the world holds its breath, captivated by the raw power coursing through me.
With a resounding cry, I clash my trident against his. A great burst of light shines between us, and Justus falls to the ground, his trident snapped in two before him.
He stands, smiling. “Well, High Prince of Summer, it seems you’re ready to reclaim your realm.”