Chapter 14 Wren #2
“They won’t hesitate to rip your throat out if you look at them the wrong way,” Quinn interjected curtly.
“They won’t give a damn that you’re the prophesized catalyst of destruction.
Not while you’re still…you. Either way, they know you’ll eventually heal.
So they can carve you open and tear your guts out without worrying about repercussions. ”
Wren blanched. “But…we feel pain.”
Arthur patted Wren on the shoulder, guiding her forward. “That’s what makes it so fun.”
They stepped into the tunnel and Wren followed suit. Flickering torchlight dappled thin slivers of shadows upon the cave walls, illuminating the dimly lit tunnel. A few other Demiens hurried past, most keeping to themselves, though a few greeted Quinn and Arthur with a casual salute.
As the tunnel came to an end, they entered another sprawling cavern carved into the base of the mountain ridge.
Dozens of tents stretched out before them, each adorned with a billowing flag marked with the Silver Unit insignia.
Despite the absence of wind, the flags rippled as though caught within a breeze—enchanted, no doubt.
Fire pits and various campsites dotted the cavern, lanterns suspended in the air, hovering just over their heads.
“Fucking hell,” a voice echoed. Wren turned to find the source—a boy sitting on top of a wooden barrel, legs spread, toothpick tucked between his lips. As his eyes landed on Wren, his jaw went slack and the toothpick tumbled out of his mouth and fell to the ground. “The catalyst…in the flesh.”
As the words left his lips, the other Demiens milling about the cavern came to a halt, eyes falling upon Wren, taking her in with unabashed curiosity. A flurry of whispers rose around her, crescendoing, until all Wren could hear was the grating sound of her own name.
Quinn cursed under her breath, shooting the boy with the toothpick a glare. “Thanks a lot, Jas.”
The boy, Jas, chuckled and raised his hands in feigned innocence.
Quinn tightened her grip on Wren, yanking her forward. Arthur scrambled to keep up. “Come on, catalyst. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Where are we going?” Wren whispered, glancing over her shoulder.
“I don’t know,” Quinn grumbled. “Your tent, I guess. Edith wants you staying with us for the next couple of days, until Equinox. Lord knows why she’d think it’s a good idea—”
“Wait—what?” Wren struggled to keep up with Quinn, nearly tripping over her own boots. “I’m staying here? In Silver Unit?”
Quinn bit the inside of her cheek. “Afraid so.”
Arthur shot Quinn a wary look. “We should hurry. I think we’re about to be—” But Arthur’s words were drowned out as a blaring alarm rang throughout the cavern. Wren winced, plugging her ears at the shrill sound.
Thankfully, it didn’t last long. A few seconds later, the alarm came to an abrupt stop.
“What the hell was that?” Wren asked, rubbing her ears. She noticed that the Demiens nearby had begun to pour out of their tents, brandishing their weapons as they migrated toward the other side of the cave.
“You have to be kidding me…” muttered Quinn, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Edith cannot truly expect us to bring her along.” She motioned to Wren with an exasperated wave of her hand.
“What do you mean?” Wren asked, though nobody seemed to hear her. “Bring me where?”
Arthur chuckled. “You have to give Edith credit…she’s got impeccable timing.”
“You think this is funny?” Quinn said, seething. “Shall I remind you who we’re up against this round? And whose fault it is?”
Wren sighed. “Can someone please—”
“I told you that you should have come to the bonfire with me,” Arthur interjected, pointing an accusatory finger at Quinn’s chest. “You were the one who stayed back! Honestly, you should know by now that I cannot be trusted around Onyx recruits after I’ve had three glasses of wine!”
Quinn groaned, digging her hands into her hair. “Oh my God. You are a literal child!”
And that was all it took for Wren to finally snap.
“CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”
A sweeping hush fell upon Quinn and Arthur as they turned to face her.
It was Arthur who broke the silence with a sigh. “That was the battle simulation alarm,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “And it looks like you’re going to be a part of it.”
There was no way in hell Wren could actually participate in a battle simulation without her magic.
And yet there she was. Standing among the other Silver Unit recruits, attempting to listen to Quinn bark instructions at her despite the persistent ringing in her ears.
“Are you even listening to me?” Quinn snapped her fingers in front of Wren’s face, dragging her back into focus.
Wren clenched her teeth. “It’s kind of impossible not to listen to you when you’re quite literally yelling in my face.”
“Then repeat it back. Every word.”
“The battle simulation will start as soon as the next alarm sounds,” said Wren, echoing the words Quinn had spoken only seconds earlier.
“We’re competing against Onyx Unit. Our main objective is to capture the black flag on the other side of the domed cave.
Our second objective is to protect our own flag from them. ”
“And what about you?” Quinn shoved a firm finger against Wren’s chest.
“I try not to get my head chopped off,” Wren said with a grim smile.
They were standing at the mouth of another cave, this one hidden deep within the encampment. Around them stood the entire Silver Unit quadrant—a hundred Demiens, at the very least. An electric buzz hummed in the air, a frenzied excitement.
“Here. Take this.” Arthur appeared beside Wren, handing her a curved saber. She was surprised to find that the weapon was fairly light in her hands despite its size. “It’s not the same as having your magic, but it’s still sharp.”
Wren flexed her hand over the hilt of the saber. “That’s oddly helpful of you. Thanks.”
Arthur shrugged. “It’s known to happen from time to time.”
Quinn, who had unsheathed two finely sharpened scythes from her waist, turned to look at Wren with a withering frown. “Make sure to stay close,” she reminded her. “I don’t want you wandering.”
“Are you sure I can’t just sit this one out?” asked Wren. “How are you even sure Edith wants me participating—”
“Because I know her,” Quinn snapped. The hardness in her stare wavered, a faint prickle of fear reflected in the way she nervously gnawed the inside of her cheek. “She isn’t just testing you—she’s testing all of us. Silver Unit has a reputation.”
“A reputation?” Wren echoed. “Why? Because you haven’t done the Reaper’s Kiss yet?”
Quinn and Arthur shared a knowing look. Wren had hit a nerve—that much was clear.
But before either of them could respond, another blaring alarm echoed throughout the cavern.
The bodies surrounding them stirred awake, the sharp hiss of blades scraping against their sheaths.
Behind Wren, Demiens pushed forward, an unstoppable current guiding her toward the entrance of the cavern.
She staggered, nearly losing her footing, but Arthur reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, holding her steady before she could tumble to the ground.
“Do not leave my side.” Quinn was speaking to Wren, but her eyes were fixed forward, locked on the mouth of the cave, as though she were simply repeating a mantra, whispering a prayer beneath her breath. Wren’s grip on her saber tightened as she braced herself for whatever she might find inside.
The alarm came to a sudden halt.
Silence.
And then Wren walked forward, wedged between Quinn and Arthur, and entered the cavern.
Red.
It bathed the walls, the rocky floor, the tall domed ceiling. As Wren stepped through, she rubbed her eyes, as though she might be able to clear her vision, but the red remained, engulfing everything in a crimson haze.
“It’s not your eyes,” whispered Arthur by her ear. “Look up.”
Wren glanced upward, catching sight of the glowing red orbs hovering at the center of the domed ceiling. They were the only source of light inside the cavern, and the reason for its bloodred hue.
The cavern was divided into two sides—Silver and Onyx.
A maze of stone barricades stood between them, blocking each side from being able to see their opponent’s flag.
In order to win, you’d have to cross through the rocky maze without getting lost. But even then, it wasn’t over.
If you made it through the stone barricades, you’d find yourself in your opponents’ territory, which meant you’d be faced with two options: sneak your way to the flag… or fight.
Around them, Demiens poured in. They scattered, moving in throngs, breaking off into designated groups within the quadrant.
Some charged forward, hungry for battle, while others stayed strategically near the entrance, forming a human shield in front of the silver flag that billowed only a few feet in front of Wren.
It didn’t take long for the chaos to begin.
In the distance, among the maze of stone barricades, a muffled chorus of shouts rang out, the sharp clang of steel against steel.
And then came the cloud of magic.
It was stifling, suffocating. A nauseating scent that made Wren’s stomach recoil.
It was an overwhelming mixture. Like smoke rising from charred remains. Like the iron scent of blood. But there was a warmer base layer too, something oddly comforting, like the smell of rainfall in the woods, like damp earth and moss.
Shadow magic.
“We’re moving forward,” said Quinn, appearing in front of Wren. “Okay?”
Wren nodded and wedged herself between Quinn and Arthur.
They pushed their way into the maze of stone barricades. As they pressed forward, sweat prickled at Wren’s brow, her palms itching for her magic, desperate for a way to properly defend herself.
“Where are we going?” she asked warily.
Quinn didn’t bother glancing back as she spoke. “To get the flag.”
“That’s it?” Wren hissed. “That’s your big plan?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” Quinn sneered.