Chapter 22
News of the third trial spread quickly throughout the Kingdom of Daramveer.
My father summoned all the competitors and their mentors to the throne room for the announcement.
As we gather, my father stands near his cold throne, all eyes on him, just the way he prefers.
Once polished and gleaming with wealth, his throne has dulled over the years—an afterthought he never bothered to restore to its former grandeur.
“Today, competitors, we are here to learn more of the third test—the trial of darkness. This will be the longest of the four and potentially the deadliest.” My heart sinks at the thought of being alone with these men again.
“The trial will begin soon. All you need to do for now is wait. Your goal is to survive and make it back to the castle. Whoever returns first is crowned our winner.”
Another vague explanation that leaves me questioning everything.
“You chose an item during the second trial. Whatever your bag holds will be the only thing you may use during this trial. No shifting,” he snaps, glancing at each of the men slowly.
A thought flickers in my mind as I recall the two gold axes I carried out of the freezing water that day. The weapons are beginning to become a part of me. Thank the Gods he’s giving us something to defend ourselves, but my stomach turns thinking about what the others may have left with.
Each mentor looks concerned for the competitor before them.
Silas stands alone, unfazed, and unafraid.
My father doesn’t move toward me but walks closer to Thatcher, where Elrod is stationed.
Nolan huddles around Rohhit, while Calia chats with her twins in the far corner. Silas dips his head, lost in thought.
As I make my way through the crowd, Thatcher steps in front of me, blocking my path. “I look forward to the next trial,” he sneers. “It’s always so much fun, isn’t it? I’m especially looking forward to being alone with you again.”
My nails dig into my palms, preparing to swing when Silas appears, placing his hand on the small of my back. A thrill runs through my core, but I remain focused on Thatcher.
“Does being an asshole ever bore you, Thatcher? I’m bored, aren’t you, Briar?” Silas flashes a smile in my direction.
I nod as he moves me forward, taking me with him. Thatcher clicks his tongue.
We step out of the room, the hallway empty except for us. “You didn’t have to do that. I told you I can take care of myself.”
“I know I didn’t have to. Believe me, I’m very well aware of what you are capable of. I told you, though, that I’m protective of you and very much enjoy getting on Thatcher’s bad side.”
I lower my head, my cheeks flushing. “I suppose you are going to stalk me during this next trial?”
“Well, Princess, though we are in a competition, I can’t let anything happen to the person I’m fighting for,” he says with a wink.
I want to trust him, but something in my gut resists the urge to let go. It's almost as if he can read my mind because he adds, “You’ll trust me one day. I’ll do anything to make sure of that.”
Moving around his large body, I glance over my shoulder, smiling. “Maybe what you should be concerned about, Prince, is if you can trust me.”
Silas laughs. “Maybe you are right.”
We stand for a moment, our eyes locked as he briefly touches my hand. “I’ll do what I can to help in the trial, Briar. Call me possessive if you want, but I’m serious. Nothing will stop me from protecting you.”
I nod. “Does worrying about me all the time cause you any health problems?" I can’t help but chuckle at my own joke. “I’ll catch you later, Nastronde.”
He tilts his head back and laughs, showcasing his strong neck. I watch him for a moment; his laughter is infectious before I take my leave.
“You are something, Briar!”
Imake my way to the kitchen, leaving him behind.
Rose and Lang will help calm my racing heart.
It’s been days since I’ve heard their banter, and I’m eager for a distraction.
The kitchen is quiet, which isn’t surprising, given that it’s later in the day and dinner preparations haven’t begun yet.
Lang stands in his usual spot, while Rose hovers nearby.
“Your eyesight is going, old man,” she snaps. “Do you even notice how much salt you just put in that dish?”
Lang snorts, shooing her away. “The only thing wrong with me is you being a pain in my ass.”
Rose booms a laugh, nudging his shoulder as she whisks away to tend to other kitchen chores.
“Briar!” Rose cheers as she spots me.
Lang whips around with a wide grin on his face. “You look great! We heard news of the third trial being soon. Shouldn’t you be prepping?
“Well, it’s hard to prepare for something you know nothing about, isn’t it?” I sigh. “Again, my father only made vague mentions of what is to be expected, and we don’t even know for certain when the trial will take place.”
“You best watch yourself around those men. I don’t trust ‘em,” Lang barks.
Rose adds, “We all know this. You wouldn’t trust anyone going after our princess, would you? But I don’t disagree. This trial isn’t going to be easy. You need to focus and work on a plan.”
I don’t respond. She’s right—I have no plan or any idea what to expect.
The conversation dies down as they return to their duties, leaving me sitting in my usual spot. Rose quickly shuffles over to me, noticing that Lang is busy making his usual mess.
“Another letter came today.” She winks, and my suspicion that she knows more looms over me.
“Thanks, Rose.”
She hangs around for a moment longer, just staring, seeing if I will react to what she just handed me. When I don’t, she nods and walks away. The handwriting is unmistakably my mother’s. I pray to the Gods that this will give us the answers we desperately need.
Instead of rushing to my room like I’ve done in the past, I stay seated for a moment longer, trying to compose myself.
“Rose,” I call out, “where did you say this came from again?”
She smiles and shrugs. "It arrived this morning. I’m not sure about anything beyond that.”
Before excusing myself, I study her a minute longer as she keeps a casual cool with her features. Lang and Rose wave over their shoulders as I head toward the door. I make it a few paces down the hallway when I collide with a body.
“What the fuck!” I curse.
Maines lies on the floor. “Gods, I’m so sorry! I was running to find you.” She stands, rubbing her neck.
“I found something,” she says, glancing around before whispering, “About you know what.” I grab her arm and shift us to the roof, landing with a thud.
“That hurt!” she grumbles, touching her arm.
“Sorry, I’m a bit on edge, and my bedroom doesn’t even feel safe these days. Rose handed me another letter.”
Her eyes widen. “What does it say? Have you opened it?”
“No, I crashed into you before I had the chance,” I respond.
“Sorry about that. I think I found something about the crystal, so I was in a panic about finding you.”
I nudge her to continue.
“It’s old, exactly like we suspected,” she says, pacing.
“And it can be used in rituals to resurrect the dead, but there are rules. You must complete several rituals in a specific order, in a certain setting. It’s detailed, Briar.
And time sensitive.” She stops pacing and looks me in the eye.
“It’s bad news. I’m not sure how your father got his hands on this, but according to the texts, it was lost over a hundred years ago and was supposedly never found. ”
My mind races. “You don’t think he would be trying to resurrect my mother, do you?”
Maines slumps against the stone wall, her face grim. “Briar, it says that if someone is brought back, they don’t return the same. They come back... worse. Like creatures from another realm, forced to walk this one again. It’s unnatural.”
A cold shiver runs down my spine. The idea of bringing someone back from the dead hasn’t been practiced for centuries.
Many healers use illusions to communicate with the deceased for closure, but never in physical form.
The consequences are too great. It’s dark magic, forbidden long ago.
My darkness stirs uneasily in my chest at the mention of this black magic.
“What conditions are needed to make the rituals work?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
“That’s the problem.” Maines sighs. “I couldn’t find exact instructions. It’s like that information was wiped, just in case anyone came looking. I could get into serious trouble for studying this.”
“Well, my father must know how to make the crystal work. We need to figure it out.” A chill runs through me. “We also need to find out who he’s planning to resurrect—and why.”
“I’m going back to the House to keep digging. I’ll ask around to see if any of the healers know anything about this dark magic.”
I nod, turning toward the stairwell. “Fine, but don’t disclose anything unnecessary. We don’t need anyone getting suspicious.”
She smiles and shifts into a dark mist, leaving me standing on the roof alone.
The letter in my hand feels heavy, as though it’s full of secrets I’m not ready to uncover. I glance down and open the letter.
My shadow,
Creatures lurk where you are heading. Dark and dangerous creatures hide in the woods. Stay out of sight and survive. That is what you must do in this third trial, Briar. Let your darkness be a beacon in the night. Find the ones you love and stay together.
All my love.
My mother knew about my father’s plans for years, these very trials.
But why didn’t she warn me? Did she think I couldn’t handle the truth?
I turn to head down the stairs, fists clenched tightly.
I look out over the Kingdom of Daramveer.
The sun dips behind the clouds, casting pink hues across the sky, the last barrier before it rests for the night.
A sigh escapes my lips. I may not return to this spot. I may not survive the trials. But one thing is certain: I am Briar Blackbyrne. I will fight. I will use the darkness inside me to try to win.
I dig my nails into the railing and look toward the forest. I’m not sure what’s coming, but I know where it’s starting.