Rahzlyn #2
I took in the ancient architecture. Chipped black pillars supported the three-story arched ceiling painted a rich blue with gold constellations.
The stonework’s crumbled gaps were likely the aftermath of the explosions during Cyrene’s trial.
The destruction of such history saddened me, and I admired whoever was entrusted with restoring it.
I wondered if I would be alive to see it.
Sconces were lit for each row of seating, which were mostly empty save for the barons and other nobles and faces I did not recognize.
The other royals and their respective courts had not deigned to show up after all.
Which meant they didn’t believe the curse would be broken, and a trip here wasn’t worth their time.
My annoyance quickly morphed into an urge to prove them wrong.
Gregorios and a few acolytes stood at the end of the temple’s aisle. Behind them was a black pool of liquid—the basin. The music emanating from the stagnant body of water was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, even in the wind. Only I could hear it—hudro.
It was an ambient noise made of low hums and whines that rattled my bones with unease. A chorus made of all the lost souls who’d perished in its depths.
I gulped, my attention flicking to the tall, ominous statue of Scorpio: a half female and half scorpion, her head bowed and tail curved.
An acolyte rang a bell, and all in attendance rose from their seats. Alekko and Vesperah stood beside Gregorios, their faces brimming with hope. I recognized the barons and other nobles, all watching me with expectant eyes.
“That’s your cue,” Felaf whispered.
“Right.” I clutched the communica in my pocket. “Here we go then.”
I dragged my gaze from the crowd to look at Raithe. One last time, just in case, I thought.
I wanted him to see everything in my heart—the safety of his presence, the comfort of his arms, the challenge of his mind.
And beneath it all, the lament for our insufficient time.
Raithe’s brows knitted as he read my face. I could have sworn his hand flexed at his side. A pleading repose passed from his eyes into mine, as if to say, This isn’t the end—not for you, not for us.
“Princess,” Felaf encouraged, her tone gentler this time. “It’s time.”
The pit in my stomach stretched. Tears threatened to spill, but I fought against them.
Not yet. Not now. Holding my head high, I squared my body toward Gregorios, the acolytes, and the basin where my fate awaited.
My guardians positioned themselves at my back.
The warmth of Raithe’s body caressed me as we strode down the long aisle to the black water’s edge.
These steps were more sacred than anything I’d ever done in my life.
Hundreds of princesses once walked this very path.
Sweat dripped down my armpits and coated my palms.
I didn’t even think until now that I couldn’t swim. I never truly imagined what it would be like to drown, but to do so in such darkness, like my nightmares…
What do we say about us Ariti wind-listeners? Pahn’s forgotten words sprang to life in my mind. Basil used to fear the night when his dreams first manifested. We do not shy from the darkness that exists in this world. Nor within ourselves, for it is often truer than the light we shine on others.
It was as if his words were destined for this moment. I surged forward, emboldened by the memory of him and my family.
“Welcome, all,” Gregorios pronounced to the room once I reached him.
The water hummed and the crowd outside buzzed.
“Today, we are blessed with a rare and unique gift from the Astrals: a second princess this year. And with it, hope. Hope that the curse which has plagued our queendom shall finally be broken by this woman before you all, Novah Artemis.”
Gregorios turned his blind attention to me and extended his arms. My body quivered, cold dread seeping from my pores as I slipped out of the black robe amid the deafening silence. My naked body was bared for all eyes to see.
With the aid of an acolyte, Gregorios secured the thick topaz necklace around my neck, the secured stone resting above my collarbones. Wearing the topaz meant I should be able to wield hudro under that water and succeed in my trial.
As the past twelve queens should have been able to as well.
Gregorios muttered something in Scorpion to me. With the communica still in the robe, I couldn’t understand a damn thing except for words like here and step. If I survived, I would have to learn the language of my people.
I blew out a breath and stepped over the ledge, dipping my toe into the water that was absent of all temperature. The liquid rose higher the further I walked until the surface met my chin. My hair fanned around me.
Stars, this was happening. Everything in my life had somehow led me here. I clung to whatever I’d done to deem myself worthy in the eyes of the Astrals. It couldn’t be as simple as the fact that I cared for others. Could it?
Maybe it was that simple. Like with Raithe as a child, the people of Scorpio needed someone to protect them.
All of them. I’d never considered myself brave or strong, but I did have heart.
I’d once let others convince me I felt things too deeply.
That I was too dramatic and unrefined in the ways I expressed myself.
Finding hudro proved I had the power within me all along. The very things that made me who I was—a heedless, emotional dreamer—also made me powerful.
Made me worthy of a chance to make a difference.
I gulped the air around me. Then I took one more final step as the ground beneath my feet disappeared entirely and I fell deep into the whispering black depths.
The pressure built in my ears as I descended. The lyrical humming intensified. Panic crept in as my lungs longed to expand. I kept falling, sinking, as if some invisible force tugged me down.
I may have found hudro, but there was no text or advice from Gregorios on how to wield it for the first time. I reached for something within me, coming up empty. My lungs burned, desperate for air.
A little longer. I had to have faith in myself for a little longer, and something would happen. It had to. All of this couldn’t have been for nothing. The music in the wind, in the water around me now, morbid as it was, had to mean something.
Right?
A sob tore from my chest, allowing liquid to pour into my mouth. Shit, no, not yet! I needed more time. Another cry. More air escaped, replaced by water. Unable to push anything out, more water forced its way down my throat. I choked, sparking a chain of coughs and gurgles.
This was it, wasn’t it? This was how I died.
I wasn’t exceptional. I was no match for the curse after all, nor fit to save the people plagued by it.
As my body convulsed, I didn’t focus on the panic.
Instead, I remembered the musty, herbal aroma of my home.
The map of the realm on my bedroom wall.
Nahn’s curls tied in her yellow scarf. Pahn’s soothing voice by the fireplace.
Basil’s hazel eyes fixated on his cards.
Raithe’s gorgeous, rare smile aimed at me.
And I was at peace.