CHAPTER 26
“A hundred centuries ago, the Realm was given the first ever dragon. This dragon was the protector of the Realm Eekatia. But when the first Royal died from a dragon’s breath, the Gods knew they needed the hunters.” - Book of Azure
I HEARD THEY FINISHED THE rest of the first game.
Twenty-nine men are left. Then there is me.
Thirty in total will compete in the rest of the battle games.
Only eight will remain.
Only eight will live.
My heart and mind cannot understand how these men willingly give up their lives to fight in the games… for what? The chance of their Realm holding the Light Stone for a year?
There must be something more I am missing.
I want to understand why these men continue to fight in the games after they have been chosen to be a part of the eight in prior years. They survived the brutal games, yet every year, they join them again.
I’d be done. I’d never compete again.
Unless, I suppose, the Queen makes them.
I wonder if the Queen forces the Royals to compete.
I still can’t believe the Queen is making me continue.
The other dragons they threw in, burned the rest of the men.
Ate a few. But also, their tails crushed many.
The dragon from the Darklands escaped after the gray one burned me.
The only one they have ever seen before, and now it’s gone.
I doubt they will be able to capture it again, or see another. Theon once told me how rare they are.
Truthfully, I would be glad to never see one again in my lifetime.
As I stare at the cobblestone floor, I begin to contemplate if Dryden and Death survived, since I am now locked away in the Kingdom courtyard known as the Pyre. But if the Gods listened to me about never wanting to love… maybe they listened to me about wanting Dryden gone. Far away from me.
As well as Lykia.
The siblings now both hate me.
But the note this morning at my door—unsure who it is from—explained how the Queen continued after she took us here, calling out the rest of the names to fight the dragons.
No one has yet come to get me, and my knee shakes impatiently as I rest on the side of my bed, dying to check on Kaine.
The bookshelf in the far corner, filled with cobwebs, seems as if it has been untouched by the men who have rested here before me.
I supposed they had better things to do than to read.
But I have an itch inside me that is longing to take one of them and open it up.
My eyes crave to read about their world here. To learn more about them.
But I don’t. Not yet.
The cobblestone walls kept the chilly night air out, and the soft bed with silky, dark sheets did keep me warm.
I slept well. Most likely the best night sleep I have had since arriving into the Realm of Azure.
The small candlestick with bronze handles in the shape of a dragon's body rests next to my bed on the round table.
I gaze at the fire, watching the wax slowly roll into beads, dripping down the long, black candlestick.
The fire whips, and I watch the small embers pop and float into the air before disintegrating. I gradually let my finger hover over it, feeling nothing. No heat.
My fingertips don’t burn.
“So strange,” I whisper out to myself.
The ripped bandage is still wrapped around my palm, my skin slowly healing from a cream that one of the healers gave me before bed. They aren’t menders. Only Kaine and Florian are. But the healers here in the Pyre help the wounds heal with their medicine.
They keep the chosen eight strong and alive to keep fighting the Wailing Mother. To keep hunting her.
A see-through bluish cream still sticks against my cheekbone from the Skydance’s dagger. I begin to wonder if my birthmarks are even noticeable anymore.
I sigh as a loud knock beats against the door, and I shove the note under my pillow, unsure if I need to keep it a secret or not.
I braid my hair swiftly, ash still tangled within the strands and I know I need a damn shower soon. My fingers grip the warm, onyx nob, twisting it so fast with the hopes of someone taking me to see Kaine.
The wooden door flies open and there stands a man I have never seen before. He must be one of the chosen eight.
“Serene,” he states, but his gaze feels as if he is staring through me, not at me.
His silver eyes are so bright against his warm skin, but the healed claw marks slashed across his eyes make my insides twist. Those wounds scream he is a warrior, and a deadly one.
I feel it just in his presence. His silver hair is braided up top, reminding me just how Theon would braid his before training.
They twist perfectly in a few rows against the top of his head, revealing his pointed ears.
Some braids still remain in his tousled waves that flow to his mid-back.
Around ten daggers are strapped against his broad chest, on a leather strap that stands out against the dragon scale armor of his suit.
A golden pin is fastened against his chest—two dragons swirling in a circle with what looks like an infinity symbol in the middle with flames. Or I suppose, a sideways eight.
“Are you there?” His brows deepen. “Are you ready?”
His arm tosses out to the side, gesturing for me to go as he doesn’t blink.
I lean over, staring at his eyes that feel almost white. He doesn’t move. No reaction to my body or hand waving in front of his face.
He scuffs, his lips pulling into a smirk. “No, I can’t see. But I can hear your hand pushing air in front of my face.”
“I’m so sorry.” I pull away swiftly and embarrassingly. My fingers dig into my forehead. “I didn’t know.”
He shrugs. “Nothing to be sorry for, be sorry to the dragon I killed after it slashed my face. Lost my eyesight, but killed a dragon.” He clears his throat. “We need to go.”
My jaw clenches with the thought of how painful that must have been.
“Are we going to see Kaine?” I step forward into the hallway. The staircase is towards my left, and I know I am on the third floor, with five more floors above me. I’m curious to know if Florian and Theon stayed here overnight, as well.
“No.”
“I need to see him!” My voice rises, and I feel the rage burning in my throat as I yell.
“He isn’t awake yet.” He starts to walk, his knee-high raven boots beating against the floor before making it to the cobblestone staircase. “I need to understand what these stones are.”
“They are nothing,” I hiss, almost annoyed that Kaine hasn’t woken. “I just need them out.”
His silver hair sways as he bounces along the stairs. “I feel that might be impossible.”
“Well, you better make it possible.”
I continue to walk but he halts, tilting his head to the side.
“Is this how you talk to everyone?” His voice deepens. “I’d watch your tongue around here, the other chosen will not put up with this and you are lucky I obey the Queen. The others don't, and they are here to fight for themselves, not her.”
I bite my bottom lip, holding in my words as my hand grips tightly around the handrail.
“Oh, now she is quiet,” he scuffs. “Maybe you’re not as foolish as the Queen thinks you are.”
“I'm certain the Queen has plenty of opinions about me,” I say, rolling my eyes as I trail after him. “And I'm sure none of them are good.”
“None are.”
My lips roll between my teeth. “Are you going to tell me where we are going exactly?” I huff, my fingers gliding along the cool metal. “Am I a prisoner or something now?”
The light trickles in, and I catch sight of the dirt that floats in the air through the archway entrance that leads us outside to where the fountain is.
“You are not a prisoner, but here for your safety to finish out the games. First, we are headed towards the Queen’s chambers. We need to find the right book from the Gods that will show us what this is, then you will head to the pit to train with the brothers.”
“Safety?” A sarcastic laugh escapes my parched lips. “Didn’t the Queen see that my skin can burn someone to ash within seconds? I don’t need to hide, to be safe. People should be hiding from me.”
“Well, maybe that is why the Queen brought you here with the deadliest warriors of the Realm. She knew if you had another outbreak of…” he looks over his shoulder, as if he can see me, “burning people, we’ll be there to slice your throat.”
“Lovely,” I mumble under my breath as my fingers glide into my back pockets.
The sun is scorching today, casting a warm glow to the walls as the heat beats against us.
I hear swords clank against each other in the distance, briefly wondering if Koen is out there.
I pause as if my heart feels he is just around the wall, out in the field where the chosen train daily.
I can almost feel him, the wind carrying his presence and scent towards me.
With the slight breeze that carries bronze leaves, I close my eyes, inhaling deeply as goosebumps prick at my skin.
I can feel his arms around me, the heat of his breath on my neck.
“Let’s go,” he barks, awakening me from the trance. How I wish the Gods took my feelings away, not the ability to touch another.
But as we walk the other way, headed towards a tunnel where golden markings of horses race along the edges, the sounds begin to fade.
We are walking the opposite way.
Unsure if that makes me glad I won’t see him yet or anxious to lay my eyes on him once again.
When we enter the side tunnel hidden behind enormous towering trees with white, illuminance leaves, we enter darkness.
The light from the horses flickers, brightening where we can see as they race along the tunnel walls—fire, ice, air, darkness, and water.
All the elements are there. It feels as if magic kissed this tunnel, creating this unreal feeling.
And once we leave, the light from the horses fades to black.