Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
The days between my assessment with the Kinslayer and my second trial seemed to pass in a whirlwind as I fell into a steady routine and grew more comfortable with my new normal.
In the early mornings I greeted Delmar in the training field to hone my fighting skills—Bran occasionally joining until he had to go to his own training.
The afternoons and evenings were filled with studying and the occasional evening out with Rena to eat at the little tavern in the Apprentice Pavilion, or we would simply just lay in our beds gossiping about the days.
I grew comfortable with the people that now made daily appearances in my life, and for the first time I felt as if I were making friends.
Well, a friend in Rena, at least. I didn't know if I could call Roan Delmar a friend, necessarily.
He still annoyed me persistently, that icy wall still firmly encapsulating him, but we had grown to forge a begrudging companionship for the training.
He even occasionally made a joke or attempted to stifle a laugh at one of my own.
It was a haltingly slow progression, but a progression nonetheless.
After giving him a list of potions that would help ease his mother’s condition and strict instructions for him and any of her Healers to follow, he had seemingly warmed the slightest bit.
I at the very least didn't feel the need to worry that he would slit my throat in my sleep on the quest.
The quest.
It was something that consumed my thoughts when my mind drifted at night, or my eyes grew too tired to read the words of the tomes I studied in the library.
I was still nervous, still unsure of this entire venture, but a new feeling had begun to emerge the more I thought of it. Excitement.
I had never left Amori City, had only read of the Southern Tavarrian Sea in books.
I had never witnessed the crystal blue waters or the feeling of salted air on my skin.
Had never seen the ice ridden forests of the North, or the auroras that danced in the skies and were spoken of with such reverence in the passages my eyes swept over.
Now, in merely a week, I would begin a journey of my own. No longer confined to the longing that called from deep within when I flipped through pages reading the words of others. I would have my own experiences, my own adventure.
But first I had to get through my second trial.
"Are you nervous for today?" Rena asked curiously, her hazel eyes meeting mine in the mirror as she finished sweeping her wild curls into a high bun that sat atop her head.
Rena had finished her own second trial the day before, leaving only the quest left for her to be considered a Master Healer.
I finished tying off my braid, shrugging as I responded, "Yes, but I also know I'm as prepared as I possibly can be, so l'm trying not to let the nerves overshadow the confidence I have in my knowledge.”
"You're always so collected," she remarked as she smudged a ruby stain upon her lips. “That Aunt of yours must be one hell of a mentor."
My grin was wide, proud. "She absolutely is."
The room I had taken my last trial in was seemingly transformed as I entered it once more.
Gone were the long desks we had our exam upon, instead replaced with high tables that came to the middle of my torso.
A variety of tools and essential things were laid out for each of us to create the potions we would need to make today.
On the far end of the room against the wall was a long table of ingredients that were not labeled–we would need to solely rely upon our knowledge when grabbing items.
The three Potion Masters sat at the front of the room as we took places behind our chosen tables, and as I glanced around I was suddenly struck by the thought that I still had not gotten to know a single other apprentice.
I had been so consumed with everything that was happening within my life that I was failing to forge the connections I should be making now.
The revelation left a bitter taste in my mouth.
High Master Belcomb stood as we all settled in, her auburn hair pulled back into a tight bun, leaving the severe angles of her face even more upon display.
"Welcome to your second trial, apprentices," she began, her voice sweet and clear as she glanced over us all.
“Your last trial was a test purely of knowledge, but today we will be looking at not only what you know, but also what you can do.
I have always found that anyone can read and recite from a book, but not everyone can truly put what they learn into practical use.
This trial will allow us to see if you have what it takes to be a true Master of Potionery. "
I could practically taste the nerves that coated the air as the High Master spoke, my own tension coiling around my chest like a serpent and squeezing the breath from my lungs. I kept my hands firmly planted on the table so as not to fidget with the items laid out in an orderly manner.
A stainless black pot, a mortar and pestle, and various measuring and slicing tools lined the table. With a slow exhale, I reigned in the anxiety—I could do this. Whatever they threw at me, I was prepared.
My focus shifted to Master Malek as he stood, his beady eyes raking over us as if we were specimens to be studied.
His voice was rough and rasping. "In the past we have always assigned a potion of creation for you to make, however this year, we will be doing things a bit," he paused as a small, odd smile tilted the corners of his lips, "differently. "
He motioned for Master Devram and she moved with pursed lips to the door we had all entered through, calling out to someone.
Confusion hung in the suspense, my mouth parting in surprise when the Kinslayer stepped in from the corridor.
He was dressed in golden armor today, his face severe and cold.
For merely a second his eyes caught mine, before he was glancing away, not even a hint of acknowledgement lighting his features.
He moved, allowing another guard to enter, when I heard the scraping of metal.
My attention remained fixed to the doorway, to that odd sound.
Startling, my stomach hollowed and dropped to the floor at my feet, bile rising in my throat when six Luanthians—chains encapsulating their wrists and ankles—shuffled forward into the room. They staggered, bodies hunched with faces grim and deathly pale.
The words Master Malek spoke were a distant garble as my attention froze upon those that stood before me.
To the girl that stood before me.
Mirabel swayed, her silver hair dirty and stuck to her cheek from the sweat that coated her skin. My breath hitched, a cry sticking to my throat as my eyes slowly trailed to the man beside her. Fenrir met my gaze head on, his chin high despite the pain that shined there.
Panic bit at me, stealing all the oxygen from the room, as he gave a small, nearly indecipherable shake of his head. As if to warn me that I could not save them from the fate that awaited.
“—crown has agreed to loan us these prisoners to test not only your skill, but how you do under pressure.
When it is not only your future in this profession at risk, but a life.
These traitors to Tavari have all been given something," his sneer had my nails digging into the wooden table before me as I focused on the words he spoke, trying to make sense of what awful horror they had concocted.
"It is your task to decipher what it was they were given through the symptoms, and create the antidote in time to save their life.
If you succeed you will pass your trial, if not well.
.." his lip curled once more, "let’s just say it won't be a happy ending for them.
Though, perhaps it would be a better alternative to the future that awaits them in the prisons or possibly the stake, depending on their crime. "
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t see.
All I knew was the rapid pounding of my heart that ached in my chest. Ears ringing as the shadows began to stir beneath my skin, a low keening wail vibrating through my mind sending jolting pain down every limb.
A sound so sorrowful I was drowning in it.
They were not angry this time, not chanting within my mind for vengeance or blood—just sheer devastation and horror at what was taking place here.
Merle had not prepared me for this.
"The King has tasked his very own Captain of the KingsGuard to ensure your safety throughout this trial." High Master Belcomb spoke, her once sweet voice now a poison in my ears. “No harm will come to you from the prisoners. Now please take your pick and begin."
"Apprentice Sommers.”
The sharp-edged coaxing of Master Devram broke me from the shock.
I rushed forward, hands shaking, not even entirely aware of the quick steps I took. It felt as if I were floating, my mind aware, but not really there as I fought to control the rapid breaths that sawed through my lungs.
Bile rose once more in my throat as I rested my hand upon Mirabel’s shoulder to guide her back to the table, my eyes raking over the rest of the prisoners.
What looked to be a teenage boy, two women, a man, and…
Fenrir. Our eyes locked and with a look that had my heart shattering, he was led away to his own apprentice’s table.
A promise sung between us as resolve hardened and sharpened my fear into a weapon of raw determination.
I would not allow her to die today. Even if I had to let the shadows loose and ravage everyone within this room, she would walk out alive.
Bitterness clung to my throat, clogging and suffocating as I lifted her onto the stool, gently placing her back against the table. I rested my hand on her forehead.
Burning hot.
Stepping back, I closed my eyes for merely a moment as I tried to collect myself.
One. A breath.
Two. Another.
Three. My eyes opened.