32. Chapter 32
32
A howl startled me awake, jolting me from my restless sleep. I slammed my head against the low roof of the small hole I had taken refuge in, causing the remaining dried brush to tumble to the ground.
I exhaled sharply, watching my breath mist in the moonlight. Shivering, I licked my chapped lips, trying to steady my racing heart.
Another howl echoed across the quiet night, sending a chill down my spine. I curled tighter into a ball, hoping the darkness of my suit would enable me to blend into the shadows.
"I am not afraid. I am brave. I-I am," I repeated barely above a whisper, trying to summon courage against the encroaching fear.
I rubbed my hands together, trying to stop them from shaking, as another howl echoed nearby, followed by a scattering of small yelps from the hill below. The sound sent the hair on my neck to rise, and I struggled to calm my shivering breath. Suddenly, a sharp and chilling scream pierced the eerie night air. I heightened my ears to listen, ensuring I was not caught unawares by whatever was in these mountains, and waited.
A deep pressure ignited within me, like a stoked fire rushing through my body. My heart swiftly slowed to its normal rhythm, and a soothing warmth began to thaw my freezing limbs. I took a deep breath of the cold, crisp air, feeling it electrify my entire being as if every cell had been awakened and I had taken my first breath from a moment of drowning.
I glanced down at my hands in curiosity. The warmth spread to my fingertips, starkly contrasting the biting cold around me. My previously muted and numb skin was now vibrant with life through the suit's burnt holes.
What is happening?
I marveled, awe-struck by the strange and powerful sensation coursing through me. It was as if some dormant energy had been unleashed, filling me with a newfound strength and resilience.
I rubbed my face, ridding myself of the confusion, and felt the sticky residue of the Breva's dried blood. A shudder of disgust ran through me just as another scream pierced the vast silence, compelling me to peer out from my hiding spot.
The sky glittered with countless stars, their light casting an ethereal glow over the cold landscape beneath the waning moon. Despite everything, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. Each star sparkled and radiated as if eager to meet me, beckoning to something deep within my soul.
The celestial display seemed almost otherworldly, the stars shimmering with brilliance contrasting sharply with the grim reality around me. I breathed in the cold night air, feeling it fill my lungs with a crisp, invigorating chill.
I sat there, mesmerized; the fear and exhaustion of the past days seemed to momentarily fade as I stared at the stars, so distant yet so vividly present, offering a silent promise of hope and endurance, begging me to keep going. I had an odd sense of feeling at home, much like I did in the colorful woods behind Jesri's estate.
Cautiously, I stepped out of the small hole, stretching my cramped legs and pressing against the mountain to peek around it. The moon cast a blue, silvery glow over the haunting, dead terrain, very different from the vibrant life of the sky. Long, narrow shadows cascaded from the jagged, towering peaks.
My heart stopped, and my breath caught in the frigid air.
I've seen this range before.
My breathing quickened as I scanned my surroundings, clutching the makeshift dagger I made from the thick stick, hoping it would be enough for a fight.
Fear gnawed at my insides, cold and relentless. I looked back up at the mountain peaks, memories flooding my mind: dark reds and blinding flashes of light, the overwhelming terror, the cold metal of the manacles, the screeching monster, and the shadowy figure's fingers wrapping around my throat.
"No," I breathed, my voice trembling. "No, no, no."
Panic gripped me as I backed against the rocky surface, my eyes darting around for any sign of movement. The terrain seemed to close in on me; my increasing awareness of this place and the horrors it invokes were suffocating. Each shadow felt like it was coming alive, and every rustle of the wind was a whisper of impending doom. The memory of the shadow man, with his cold, menacing presence, flashed through my mind.
I closed my eyes, shaking away the images and the fear that threatened to paralyze me.
Inhale.
I am in control. I am in con —
A blinding pain seared through my mind, dropping me to my knees.
No, no, no. No!
I am in control.
Another wave of agony crashed over me, and I crumpled to the ground, convulsing in torment.
"Welcome home, Eliah," the sinister voice hissed, slurring and elongating my name as it raked down my spine.
My throat tightened, my breath stolen by the invasion. I fought back with every ounce of strength I had left.
GET OUT!
"Accept your fate, Eliah. Don't fight it—"
" GET OUT. GET OUT!" My screams shattered the oppressive silence, echoing off the towering walls of the alcove.
Desperation fueled my actions as I slammed my hand against my head, channeling my rage at the insidious presence burrowing into my mind. I latched onto its oily black tendrils, crushing them with a fiery intensity until they sizzled and convulsed like the Breva and vaporized to a dulling headache.
With a hiss, air rushed back into my lungs, and I uncoiled my body, lying flat on the icy ground. Gasping for breath, I stared at the dark sky that twinkled in an embrace.
"No…more," I gasped, a desperate plea to the uncaring void.
They know I'm here . This is their territory.
Swallowing my anger, I forced myself to sit up.
Did Levon know the Match would be here?
Flexing my fingers, I stood, unwilling to waste another second wallowing in pity.
The sooner I finished this, the sooner I could escape their domain.
I stomped down the hill, letting the eerie moon guide my way. I clutched the sharp branch in my hand and let this energy of my anger build up and steam off me, melting the frozen ground under my weight.
"What's happening to me ?" I whispered, the weight of the past few months pressing heavily on my shoulders.
Every lie. Every secret. Every fight and aching limb.
Every kiss.
Was it all just a pretense? A lie to manipulate me into this? To make me comply?
The anger surged again, burning hotter as I started running. I grumbled as the black sky slowly turned a dull gray, heralding the cold sun of dawn.
None of this makes sense. What memories do they want? Why do they want me to join them?
The horrifying image flashed in my mind: the bloodied throne I sat upon, their cheers echoing as spidery fingers crawled up to choke me into compliance, with a crown of death on my head.
I shivered at the image, pushing it far, far away, and letting the overload of questions distract me as I continued down the slope.
" Fernwen !"
A hiss came from the right, halting me and sending gravel and dirt scattering. I scanned the area, seeing only the chasm's edge and the murky fog swirling below. I stalked toward where the voice came as a howl echoed off the mountain paths below.
Creeping closer to the edge, I spotted Osric's light hair as I peered over. Disgust and rage twisted my face as I saw him clinging to a dried root off the cliff, standing on a narrow slice of rock barely big enough for him. The deadly plunge below made my stomach lurch.
"Get down here!" he hissed.
I knitted my brows together and stepped back while my anger surged, hotter and more intense than ever before. My teeth clenched, and my fists tightened as I glared back at him, unyielding and defiant.
" No way in Tyran ," I spat back with venom.
His eyes darted down the hill behind me before locking back onto mine with a deadly glare. "Fine," he mocked sarcastically. "Hopefully, you'll satisfy their hunger."
I quickly pivoted to look behind me, bracing myself, yet nothing but the eerie breeze brushed past my cheeks, twirling my blood-soaked hair with it. I turned back just as Osric grabbed my ankle and yanked, sending me crashing onto the rugged terrain. Sharp rocks tore into my suit, and sparks of pain exploded through my vision as he pulled harder, dragging me across the frozen ground as I clawed desperately, forsaking my makeshift dagger.
I cursed, kicking at his arm, but soon felt the sickening pull of gravity as I teetered on the cliff's edge. Screaming, my nails broke with my desperate attempts, the jagged earth slicing open my black suit as I clawed at rocks, weeds— anything to stop the fall. My fingers found a small root jutting from the ground, and I clung to it desperately. My torso curled over the edge, leaving me hanging over the sheer drop of the cliff, my heart pounding in terror.
The rage in me boiled over, fueling my desperation. I shouted through gritted teeth, my voice raw and primal as I kicked his arm off. The wind whipped around me, adding to the chaos as I dangled, each second feeling like an eternity.
My mind raced, the adrenaline and fury blending into a maelstrom of emotions as fear swelled up into every fiber of my being. Osric grasped my shoulder, yanking my body, forcing me to let go and accept my impending fate. I screamed at him, cursing his name, and kneed him in the side before quickly swinging my legs with enough momentum to kick him in the chest. He faltered, barely clutching to the root. I didn't look to see if he kept hanging on as I curled my arms, lifting myself back onto the ledge.
I scrambled to find purchase and hoist myself up, sliding on my stomach as he grunted close behind and grabbed at my legs. I kicked his hand off, sending loose gravel and dirt cascading down his face and over the cliff edge in a puff of smoke.
He cursed at me as I crawled to my feet, sprinting away from the edge as fast as possible. The sound of feet smacking against the rough gravel echoed behind me. Within an instant, he was on top of me, tackling us both to the ground with a hiss. The rocks scraped painfully against my exposed skin under his weight. He wrapped his arms around my waist and heaved me upright as I kicked off the ground with all my strength, sending us both tumbling backward with an air-escaping thud.
He swiftly let go, grabbed my head, and flexed, putting me into a headlock. I clawed at his already shredded suit, turning my head towards him and catching the sourness of his dry breath. Desperately, I kneed him in the groin, where he released me just long enough for me to break free and jump atop him. I straddled him, raining down one hard punch after another, the sting of each impact fueling my rage until my knuckles were slick with his warm blood.
With a powerful kick, he sent me screeching across the rocky ground. "You killed her!" he screamed, charging at me with his bloody face. I struggled to find my footing right as he crashed into me with a solid impact, forcing the air out of my lungs. We smacked the ground, slicing open parts of my suit, and felt the tug of my braid stuck beneath my back.
" You left us both! " I hissed through gritted teeth as he pressed his weight into me, viciously smiling down at me as his blonde hair sagged in front of his face. I heaved my legs up, trying to get him off me, hearing Kaizen's words blare through my skull.
Get out. Get out.
I squirmed, freeing my hand, and threw a solid punch to his cheek, but he quickly retaliated, gripping my arm and throwing several blows to my jaw, each strike sending a jolt of pain, driving me into the ground. I blinked back at the stars, feeling a welt erupt on my face.
Abruptly, my anger surged, blinding and all-consuming. The air around us crackled with electric energy; a gravitational light held us suspended for a millisecond before a sudden zap burst forth, throwing Osric off me. He skidded to a stop against a large rock, his body convulsing uncontrollably before falling limp.
My heart pounded as I fought for each shallow breath, staring at his limp body and then at my hands in disbelief.
No.
My mind raced through a hundred scenarios, each more implausible than the last, yet they all led me back to the impossible.
No!
This wasn't why the Spellcasters were hunting me—they wanted memories, not… me .
I'm nothing. I'm normal.
The notion seemed absurd, a fantasy I refused to entertain. But every confusing moment replayed in my mind: the heightened awareness, the uncontrollable anger, the incident that left Levon's face a brutal mess, and the Miehja attacking only those who posed a threat .
Swallowing hard, I forced myself to stay grounded. I needed to focus on finding a way out of here, not on wild imaginations.
Pushing myself up from the ground, I sat feeling a strange energy pulsating between my fingers as I wiped my bloody knuckles on my leg and brushed the hair out of my eyes, trying to steady my breathing and regain control.
The sky dawned into a somber grey, broken clouds pressing low overhead. I slowed my breathing and gingerly picked myself up, every movement sending waves of pain through my aching body. My jaw throbbed, a painful bruise forming, which I hoped would be hideous enough for Lord Winslow to call off the arrangement if I made it out of here alive.
Shifting my gaze to Osric, lying motionless on the ground with his chest still rising and falling, disgust churned within me. For a moment, I entertained the idea of tossing him off the ledge but ultimately decided to leave him for whatever animal might find him instead.
I scooped up my makeshift dagger before trudging down the steep hill, stumbling several times but using the momentum to keep myself upright. Thirst, hunger, and sleeplessness gnawed at me, each step feeling heavier than the last.
The gravel crunching underfoot for the mountain slope was my only companion, the silence punctuated by my labored breaths.
I kept walking and walking, driven by sheer willpower, even as exhaustion and pain weighed me down.
After what felt like hours of trudging, fatigue settled over me. My steps grew sluggish as I veered off the path, descending into a valley of dead trees and frozen greenery. There had to be a stream nearby and perhaps nuts, berries, or even squirrels.
I pushed deeper into the twisted embrace of the dead branches, the ground beneath me becoming soft and springy, giving me hope that water was close. The clouds above were now a dark, oppressive grey, hanging low and shrouding the landscape in fog. The cold, moist air chilled me to the bone, and I shivered as I moved forward, hearing the weight of my breath in each step.
Unexpectedly, a rustling noise sounded up ahead, causing me to freeze in place and hold my breath. I listened intently as the noise grew louder, something approaching through the underbrush. Clutching my makeshift dagger tightly, I slid up against a tree for cover, listening to my heart pound as I waited.
Heavy footsteps broke through the dead branches, sending rocks scattering. Peeking around the tree, I saw the younger boy from Kleads emerge into view. His face was covered in scratches, his suit was torn, his head hanging down, looking as desperate and worn as I felt.
I watched him for a moment, assessing his condition. His movements were slow and cautious, his eyes darting around as if expecting danger at any moment. Without thinking, I stepped into view.
Fear flashed across his face as he jumped back, holding out a large rock and a sharpened branch. His expression softened with relief when he recognized me, but he kept his weapons up.
"Astor, is it?" I rasped, my voice rough and crackling. I coughed, feeling the cold air slice deeper into my throat. He nodded, his dark almond eyes curious, examining every detail of my blackened, splattered face, down to my tattered suit and bloodied hands. "I'm not going to hurt you," I said, raising my hands in a gesture of peace.
"What happened to you?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind picking up around us.
"The King's Match did," I replied, licking my chapped lips, my throat aching for liquid.
He lowered his makeshift weapons slightly. "I didn't think this was what it would be like."
I shrugged in agreement.
"Food?" His eyes conveyed his hunger, his pale skin mirroring my own desperation. I shook my head. "I-I found water. Maybe another mile back. I can take you there?" His voice sounded light and airy, causing me to wonder how young he was.
"Please," I nodded, grateful for his offer.
He quickly pivoted back to where he came from, and I followed, our bodies shivering against the wind, which now howled past our ears like a mournful lament.
Due to the thick fog, I was unsure how long we had been walking or what time of day it was when we finally reached the river, but I immediately kneeled, gulping the icy water, and let its coolness clear my mind. I splashed some onto my face, hoping to wash away the blood, but the biting cold stiffened my fingers, making it impossible to scrub.
"I heard you didn't volunteer for this. Is that true?" Astor asked, finishing his gulps of water.
I looked up at him, breathing warmth into my palms. "Yes," I whispered. "Though I'm guessing you didn't know what you were getting into either."
He shook his head sadly. "No. I don't think any of us did."
We sat silently for a few minutes, the only sound was the gentle bubbling of the stream over the wet rocks.
"Thank you," I said finally, breaking the silence. "For the water." He gave me a small, appreciative smile, one that gave me a flicker of hope in this wicked world. "Were you with others?" I inquired.
He nodded. "Beth from Aravel. We got separated, though. Something was chasing us. Something...dark." His youthful face mirrored a yearning to flee this icy, desolate tournament. "I don't know what happened. We were both asleep when we felt it, the fear, and bolted. I tripped over something and tumbled down a hill when I heard her scream—" He shut his eyes, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have agreed to this."
I placed my hand on his shoulder. "We'll find a way out," I promised, hoping my assurance could offer some solace amidst the overwhelming despair in his eyes. "You should get some rest. I'll search around for some food."
He nodded, and we made our way to an alcove by the stream, shielded from the biting wind by the towering mountainside. He sank to the ground, his breathing gradually slowing into a steady rhythm.
I lingered momentarily, watching him drift into slumber, pondering the cruel irony of this supposed tournament meant to foster peace among the Regions. With a bitter scoff, I turned to scour the murky landscape for any semblance of sustenance, venturing cautiously while keeping a watchful eye on Astor. Despite my efforts, I found nothing. Not a single crumb of food in sight. Anger churned within me, a tempest raging amidst the hollow pit of hunger gnawing at my stomach.
Returning to Astor, I settled beside him, endeavoring to quell the rising heat coursing through my veins. A heavy weariness draped over me like a suffocating haze. Leaning my head against the mountain wall, I found little relief in the stagnant fog that barely stirred against the fierce wind whistling through the small alcove, sending a haunting echo wheezing past.
Struggling to keep my eyes open, I sat in silence, listening to the steady rhythm of Astor's breathing and the persistent grumbling of my empty stomach.
I was abruptly pulled from the hazy embrace of exhaustion by Astor's urgent shaking.
"Wake up!" he hissed, his eyes wide with fear, jolting my heart awake with a surge of adrenaline. I leaped to my feet in an instant, sensing a threat. He quickly covered my mouth with his hand and pointed toward the stream.
A large grey wolf stood at the water's edge, its massive form casting a menacing shadow, its fur thick and matted. My heart raced as I scanned the area frantically, searching for any sign of more wolves. Wolves, I knew, usually ran in packs, and the presence of one often meant the presence of others.
I strained my ears for any signifying rustle or snap of twigs, but any sounds were engulfed in the howling wind, which seemed to swallow all other sounds. The tension in the air was tangible, every instinct urging me to remain perfectly still and silent but flee and escape at the same time.
The fog slowly dissipated, making our situation more precarious.
Gulping down the fear and anger that threatened to overwhelm me, I clutched the wooden dagger tightly, my knuckles white with tension. Positioning myself protectively in front of Astor, I observed the wolf as it drank from the stream. Quickly analyzing our escape route, I leaned close to his ear and whispered a plan.
We maneuvered cautiously along the mountainside, hugging the terrain as much as possible until we reached a point where the slope jutted out at an odd angle, leaving us dangerously exposed to the wolf's back.
"When I tell you to run, you run as fast as you can," I commanded, gesturing toward his own makeshift weapons, which looked like they would shatter with a single swing. We need to get back on the path," I whispered, nodding in the direction we had come from. Astor nodded in agreement, his shallow breaths betraying his anxiety, and began to creep back step by careful step until the wolf was no longer within sight behind the jut of the mountain.
"Run," I urged, pushing him forward. With adrenaline coursing through our veins, we sprinted as fast as our legs could carry us, weaving through the dense forest and leaping over scattered boulders and rocks. Astor proved to be faster than I anticipated, leaping over each boulder as if they were mere pebbles. We continued to run, the watery light filtering through the clouds above, threatening to expose our position. A solitary howl pierced the air, followed by several others, seeming to encircle us from all directions.
I grabbed his arm, propelling him forward. "Keep going! We're almost back to the path," I panted, my eyes fixed on the incline ahead. The sight of the sloping road gave me a burst of hope. We ran in tandem, our breaths ragged and visible in the cold air. Each inhale sliced through my throat, sending goosebumps cascading down my neck as a pounding of feet and guttural snarls echoed through the air behind us.
We slowed as we reached the hill's slope, the incline making each step more arduous in the loose rocks. I glanced back again, noting that nothing seemed to be following us. I sent a silent prayer of gratitude to the heavens, hoping we would safely reach the bottom of the road.
"Stay down," I panted, licking my cracked lips. "Let me make sure we are clear."
Astor remained pressed against the rocky hillside, his black hair contrasting with the light gray stone. I shifted my weight, digging my fingers and boots into the rocks, sending some tumbling down the hill. Another howl pierced the air, and I pushed down the rising fear.
Peeking over the ridge, I listened intently for anything unusual amid the silent wind, praying that neither another Breva, a wolf, nor the Spellcasters were nearby since I was in their territory.
I scanned the area to the right and left, seeing and sensing nothing except the faint howl of several wolves scattered behind us. Sliding back down to Astor, I dug into the loose gravel, my movements careful but swift.
His dark eyes were filled with fear. "The sooner we get to the bottom of that path, the quicker we can get out of here," I said, hoping to give him the courage to keep fighting. I nodded upward. "Let's go. Hopefully, we can find some food at its end."
Astor followed me up and over the ridge, staying low as we scanned the vast landscape for any signs of danger. Our hearts pounded, and we tried to slow our breathing against the wind that wove around us, chilling us to the bone. The howls echoed closer, urging us to move quickly.
We descended the path in a rush, our steps uneven on the loose gravel. Each stumble and slip sent small rocks tumbling down the slope, the noise unnervingly loud in the otherwise quiet surroundings. Our stomachs grumbled loudly, a painful reminder of our hunger and a sound that could easily betray us to any predators nearby.
This part of the path was steep and treacherous; the jagged rocks and rough terrain demanded our full attention. The cold wind bit through our tattered suits, sapping our energy and adding to our discomfort.
As we moved, I glanced back at Astor. His young face was set with determination, though fear still lingered in his eyes. He mirrored my movements, his footsteps as cautious as mine, but his determination strengthened me.
The howls behind us grew fainter, but we didn't slow down. We couldn't afford to. The landscape stretched out before us, a mix of dead trees and rocky outcroppings, offering little shelter or promise of food. Yet, we had no choice but to keep moving forward, hoping each step brought us closer to getting out of here.