Chapter 32 #2
“The Ambush Master?” Calla asked, waggling her eyebrows.
“Turns out he’s not married.”
The sentence only made sense to Calla, who promptly burst into giggles. I shoved Quinn with my shoulder, and he rolled his eyes and tucked me up under his arm again.
“It’s going to take forever for us all to be tested,” Calla said, stretching her arms overhead and yawning.
She wore a sleeveless top stitched from scraps of vivid pink and gold, paired with deep purple trousers tucked into battered boots.
She twirled, as graceful and light on her feet as if she might lift into the air at any moment.
“And wasn’t that serpent shadow this morning the freakiest thing? ”
I nodded, though terrifying felt more apt. “What do you think the trial is going to be?”
Her mouth curved in a grin that was half mischief, half dare. “Whatever it is, I can’t wait.”
“I’m more afraid of sparring with her again than this test,” Quinn said, his voice laced with dry amusement.
I smothered a smile.
“It has to start soon,” Quinn went on, shielding his eyes to squint at the sun. “It’s almost noon. If they keep us standing here much longer, someone’s going to start a riot.” He shot Calla a look. “Probably you.”
She chuckled, like the idea pleased her.
It was the last thing I heard before the Arena, and all the calamity around it, vanished.
—
I stood alone.
Craning my neck, I took in the cavern around me, the air thick with heat and laced with something ancient. The chamber seemed to stretch endlessly, its vaulted ceiling lost in darkness.
“Hello?”
My voice went nowhere. I tried to sing or shout or scream—nothing.
Flame?
She couldn’t hear me—or if she could, she couldn’t respond.
I breathed slowly, trying to keep the fear from stealing my focus.
There is light in every darkness. I sought Edith’s familiar words as I stepped deeper into the endless chamber.
Before me, an enormous cauldron appeared, boiling over a roaring inferno, its surface bubbling with something thick and acrid. The scent was a sharp mix of charred metal and the unmistakable tang of blood.
The iron sides of the cauldron bore two words: Remorse and Resolve.
Underneath the words, symbols flickered across the metal, appearing and vanishing like phantoms. I watched, transfixed, as a story unfolded in the molten glow.
Shapeshifters shifted between flesh and fur, tygers reared in battle, a phoenix erupted into flames before twisting into the form of a dragon, a tortoise intertwined with a serpent.
A voice, deep and resonant, thundered through the chamber.
Behold your past. Embrace it if you dare.
Then, slowly, the iron went blank. A shudder ran through me. Did others see their past reflected here? Their triumphs and sins?
For me, the iron held no history. No name. No past.
There were no instructions given, only the sudden pressing need to touch the cauldron. To place my hand against the burning metal and brand my skin.
The whispers began. Ghostly, fragmented voices pressed against my mind, curling around the edges of my thoughts like smoke.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying. But I could feel.
I had loved. And I had been loved.
Not just in passing. Not with the fragile, fleeting affection that crumbles under the weight of time.
Mine had been a love so deep, so absolute, it had stitched itself into the very fabric of my soul.
A love so pure it had felt eternal. Unbreakable.
I had been a part of something bigger than myself.
But love does not make you untouchable.
In a single moment, it was all ripped from me.
I could still hear their screams. The sounds clung to me. I had stood there, helpless, as fate made its cruel choice. And when the moment came, I did nothing.
I let others suffer in my place.
It should have been me.
The thought rose, vicious and unshakable, carving itself into my mind.
It should have been me.
My breath hitched, and only then did I realize I was weeping. Silent, bitter tears that burned hotter than the fire before me. My shoulders trembled, my hands clenched into fists.
Why? Why was I still here when they were not?
What right did I have to keep breathing when I had failed them?
I didn’t deserve survival.
And yet the fire still raged. The earth still stood beneath me. My heart, broken and hollow, still beat.
The weight of it was unbearable.
It pressed down on me, suffocating, relentless. I couldn’t carry it any longer.
Without hesitation, I stepped forward, my breath ragged, my vision blurred with grief. The cauldron loomed before me, its iron surface glowing with unbearable heat, glowing like the heart of a dragon pearl.
I pressed my forearms against it.
Agony ripped through me.
A scream tore from my throat, raw and unbidden, as fire branded itself into my flesh. Every nerve in my body shrieked in protest. My instincts screamed to pull away—to stop—to let go.
I didn’t.
Because this excruciating, blistering pain was better than the hollow, endless anguish inside me.
The fire seared deeper, but something else stirred. I felt a warmth in my jade bracelet. It started to glow, as if it were protecting me.
You are still loved, Rubi. Flame’s steady voice. You have the right to live.
I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it or if it was real, her in my head, answering my pain and devastation through the Bond between us. My chest heaved, the scent of burning flesh thick in the air. The pain should have consumed me. It should have broken me.
And yet I held on.