Chapter 42 Amidst the Trials
AMIDST THE TRIALS
“Your daughter was never meant to walk through gardens. She was born for fire, shaped by silence, sharpened by loss. The world will bleed before it bends to her, but bend it will.”
—Láda Velé?a, to Eyleen ársa
Noel
“One, two, one, two,” I call aloud as the sound of claws striking fills the air.
Walking through rows of female vólkins, I keep an eye on each one of their movements, scanning for any mistakes.
“If the enemy ever reaches you,” I say as I stop to adjust Na?a’s stance, “you need to be ready and know how to defend yourself.”
She straightens under my guidance and nods.
The children wanted to join today, so I’ve modified the training. For now. The trials began hours ago, and most teams have already found at least one item. The males are making progress, and while they push themselves, we train here.
“Your Majethty, am I doing good?” a small voice calls out. I turn to see árne, a tiny vólkin with wide eyes.
Kneeling to meet his height, I lift his paw and press on it to extend his tiny claws, then smile and say, “The enemy should be afraid of these,”
árne beams, his tail wagging. Children always have a way of softening my heart, especially ones as sweet as he is, no matter how hardened I try to appear.
“I used to wield a sword,” I say, standing and turning back to the group. “It was like an extension of my arm. But you—” I pause, meeting the eyes of the vólkins standing before me. “You have claws and immense strength. Use them.”
“My muscles burn already!” Essin whines, dropping her shoulders dramatically.
I raise an eyebrow at her. “That’s because you’ve never trained. I know the males will do everything in their power to keep us safe, but no one can predict what the future holds.”
They may not be warriors like the males, but they have strength—and I’ll ensure they know how to use it when the time comes.
“Do all human females know how to fight?” Lyssia asks. She’s one of the females I met during my tour of the land a few days ago.
“No,” I answer. “In the human world, women aren’t allowed to.”
The murmurs stop, and all eyes turn to me.
“What if they want to?” Lyssia’s question is genuine, but it cuts deep.
I sigh. “In human villages, women are not allowed to grow, to become who they want to be. From the day we are born, we are told to serve men.” My teeth grind, and my jaw tightens as the words leave my mouth. The truth tastes bitter, but it must be said.
The females growl as they process my words.
“This is why I want us all to be strong. To know how to take care of ourselves, to save our own lives when the moment demands it. The day we start conquering lands, the real horror begins. And from that point on, no one can predict how long it will take to change the world.”
I let my gaze settle on each of them in turn. “I want us to be as prepared as we can be to face every challenge with strength. When we rescue the women from the villages, everyone here must be ready to guide them and teach them how to protect themselves.”
The growls deepen among the females before me. Soon we march to war, and they all must be ready to help.
“Cover the children’s ears,” I command.
The nymphí rush to obey, shielding every youngling’s ears.
I clench my fists so hard that I feel the strain in every muscle, but my voice carries across the clearing, cold and strong. “From the very first woman on this earth, men have been greedy. Every woman has been misunderstood, silenced, stripped of her power.” My chin lifts high. “But no more.”
The words burn like fire in my throat. “We will destroy every soul that stands against us.”
Sharp pain shoots through my palms, but I barely register it, consumed by the storm raging within. “And when the whole world dares to rise against us,” I declare, my voice a roar, my rage blazing, “we will destroy them all.”
A searing jolt of pain shoots through my hands, and my breath catches, my heart pounding in my chest. Blood drips from my clenched fists, splattering onto the ground. Slowly, I open my hands, and my eyes widen.
Jagged thorns have sprouted from my palms and pierced through my skin.
The clearing falls silent. Even the wind stops. “This blood in my hands,” I say as I turn back to them, “is the blood of a family slaughtered by greed and cruelty. I have no brothers. No sisters. My mother is dead, and so is my father.”
Raising my fists, I stare at the streaks dripping from my palms. “They are not the first, and they will not be the last, to die in this cruel, merciless world.”
I will scorch the earth if needed. I will shield these souls with my own body.
“I am the last blue rose in a garden choked by weeds. A garden overrun with parasites—creatures who only know how to take, to consume, and yet are never satisfied. They poison the soil, spread their rot, and expect us to bow to their will.”
My hands shake. More thorns tear my skin. “For too long, they have underestimated us. They believe we are weak, that we exist to serve them, that we are nothing without their approval. But they are wrong. They have always been wrong.”
The ground beneath my boots trembles. My blood drips, staining the earth red as I raise my voice. “This is where it ends. Their reign. Their greed. Their endless hunger for power.”
Every father and every son. Every single one of them.
“We will destroy every soul that stands in our way! Every sword lifted against us will be broken. Every lie they spread will be silenced. And when their armies come, and their leaders sneer, we will destroy them all.”
The thorns grow bigger and more savage. “This is the blood of rebellion. This is the legacy of those who came before me. My mother. My father. Every woman who dared to dream of a better world.”
“Enough!”
A sharp voice snaps me out of my rage. The thorns retreat instantly, each falling to the blood-soaked ground with a lifeless thud. Turning slowly, I see Elder A?na standing tall with her piercing gaze fixed on me.
Not the crowd. Not the nymphí. Me.
I swallow hard and, stomach twisting, turn back toward the others. The scene before me feels like a punch to the gut. The children are trembling, their tails tucked between their legs, while the females stand frozen and wide-eyed with fear. Fear of me.
What have I done?
I glance down at myself. Thick, thorny vines have sprouted from the ground, encasing my boots and legs, crawling up my body like chains. My arms are stained with blood. I’m so soaked in it the metallic scent hangs in the air.
“You could hurt yourself and the others, Ethereal Leader,” Elder A?na says as she steps closer and lifts her paw. With that simple gesture, the vines loosen their grip and sink back into the earth. My body feels lighter, but the shame weighs heavily on me.
“I-I’m sorry,” I mutter. These dark thoughts . . .
Elder A?na’s expression softens. “Power without control is chaos. You must find balance, Ethereal Leader. For their sake, and your own.”
Her gaze flicks to the cowering children, and my heart aches. I’ve scared them.
“The training is over,” she declares.
The nymphí release the children and offer them small, colorful stones to ease their fear. The children clutch the tokens tightly, their trembling gradually easing.
I stare down at my bloody hands. My voice comes out in a whisper, barely heard even to myself. “What is wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong,” Elder A?na says. “You are slowly awakening, and you let your emotions take hold. It isn’t a bad thing. But you must learn to control it.”
“I feel like I’m doing nothing!” My head jerks up to meet her gaze, and I see no anger there, only understanding. “I need to act, to rush forward! Every second I wait, I feel like I’m failing them.”
“You have done plenty,” she replies.
“Not enough,” I insist, shaking my head. “Not at all. Women are still suffering. I am here, fed and safe, while others live only to survive. How can that ever be enough?”
“You see each achievement as another task completed, but you never stop to notice the victories that come with them.”
“Victories?” I echo. “What victories? I am here while they are still in chains. How can I call anything I’ve done a victory?”
“You’ve lost your mother, yet you found your father.
You’ve uncovered truths that others could not even dream of knowing, and you’ve begun to piece together a plan to fix what was broken.
You teach wisdom to the females. You give strength to the children.
You care for us, Your Majesty. You care for us all. ”
The truth in her words stings. My jaw tightens as I fight against the urge to argue, to insist it isn’t enough, that it never will be.
“You think your victories are small because the world isn’t yet whole,” Elder A?na continues. “But every step you take, every lesson you give, it matters. It’s the start of the balance we’ve been waiting for.”
I swallow hard. The blood on my hands has gone cold and begun to dry.
“We all want to go out and bring this world peace,” Na?a says.
Of course they want it as much as I do. They’ve lived in this confined world, dreaming of freedom, just as I have. But . . . I’ve seen what it’s like out there.
I’ve heard the tales of other villages—of their struggles, their poverty, their lives spent clawing for scraps. At least Tárnov didn’t lack as much as the others, even if the only truly wealthy village is Velháven, the capital of Vathéria.
The tsar’s stronghold sits there, ruling over everything. It’s a fortress of wealth and indulgence, surrounded by nobles and businessmen who thrive while others rot.
The tsar has a daughter, Tsarevna Elara.
The portrait of her and her father is seen in every office.
My general kept it in his office as well, a symbol of power and loyalty.
Every meeting I attended, her painted gaze stared back at me.
Beautiful blonde hair, full cheeks, and round shape. The definition of beauty.
If he has a daughter he loves so much, then why does he allow other women to suffer?
The answer is obvious: Because he doesn’t care. He enjoys his power. He revels in his control. But I will take it from him.
He may enjoy these final years of his life, but they won’t last. I will come for him. And I will destroy him. With the other five or not, he will be defeated.
“As pups, we would run around these trees, not knowing what was happening outside.” Na?a’s voice pulls me from my dark thoughts.
I realize I’ve been staring at her, but I haven’t spoken. Her words hang between us, and she hesitates, studying my expression. How will I ever awaken if I cannot silence this storm inside me?
Our conversation is interrupted by a harsh rustling from the tree line. A nymphá rushes in my direction. “Your Majesty,” she begins. “A group is approaching. Our warriors but . . . there is a human with them.”
My heart starts pounding faster. A human?
Another nymphá steps forward, her voice almost a whisper. “It is the one you spared, Your Majesty.”
The one I— “Gregor?” What is going on?
Why would Gregor be here? After almost two weeks, why would he come back?
Na?a tilts her head. “Who is Gregor?”
Essin wrinkles her snout. “What kind of name is that?”
“Tell the warriors bringing him that I’m waiting. And inform Theron. I need him here.”
The nymphí bow low before rushing back into the forest where their glowing bodies disappear into the trees. My pulse quickens, but I have to remain calm. We’re in the middle of the first trial, and already things aren’t going as planned.
I turn to Elder A?na, my voice steady despite the tension building in my chest, and say, “Whatever this is, I need to be prepared.”
She gives me a knowing nod. “And you will be.”