Five #3
Kael watches me for another long second, and once again I get the terrible feeling that he sees far more than he should. His gaze drifts briefly downwards.
“What are you?” he asks quietly.
The question hits me like cold water, just as it did in the dream, and my pulse stumbles violently. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do.”
The certainty in his voice frightens me more than the question itself.
Before I can think of a response, Kael steps around me and starts down the corridor, smooth and silent as shadow slipping across stone.
“I’ll see you soon, Luceris,” he says without looking back.
The words sound less like a promise and more like inevitability.
I remain frozen in the corridor for several seconds after he disappears from sight, trying unsuccessfully to steady my breathing.
Eventually, I force myself towards the main chamber.
Marissa spots me immediately and relief floods her face so quickly it twists something in my chest. Beside her, Callen straightens slightly from where he’d been leaning against the wall, though his expression remains carefully neutral.
“There you are,” Marissa says, hurrying towards me. “You disappeared last night.”
“You looked unwell,” Callen adds. “You still do.”
I try to answer casually, but Kael’s voice still lingers uncomfortably in the back of my mind.
“I’m fine.” Neither of them believe me.
Marissa studies my face carefully before lowering her voice. “Was it one of the others?”
I hesitate for a moment. “One of the Shadowborn,” I admit.
Something uneasy flickers across Callen’s expression, and Marissa looks horrified. “They’re frightening.”
“That’s one word for it,” Callen mutters.
“The Fireborn too.” She lowers her voice. “None of them look scared at all.”
Callen folds his arms. “Maybe they aren’t.”
The thought settles heavily between us.
Marissa’s composure finally fractures. She wraps her arms tightly around herself as tears gather abruptly in her eyes.
“This isn’t fair,” she whispers. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
The words hit harder than I expect. “What do you mean?”
She shakes her head once, breathing unevenly now. “I’m so scared,” she breathes, the words escaping in a choked gasp. “This is a mistake. They didn’t mean for this to happen.”
An uncontrollable sob rises within her, and she gulps it back.
“Who?” I ask, confusion twisting its way through my thoughts.
“My… parents,” she manages between breaths, her eyes wide with fear. “They lied.”
My pulse lodges itself in my throat.
“I’m only sixteen.”
Sixteen.
Too young. Far too young.
Something cold twists violently in my chest as the full weight of it settles over me. Marissa already looked younger than the rest of us, but hearing it spoken aloud changes something. Makes this all feel suddenly uglier.
She begins crying properly then, shoulders shaking beneath the effort to contain it.
I pull her against me automatically.
“It’s alright,” I whisper, though I don’t believe the words any more than she does. “I’ll protect you.”
The promise leaves my mouth before I can stop it.
Callen looks away quietly.
And deep down, somewhere beneath the fear and exhaustion and the lingering echo of Kael’s voice, I realise I mean it.
The Dome buzzes with restless energy by the time we arrive.
Rows of white lights curve high above the training hall, casting hard reflections across the polished floor beneath our feet.
The space is enormous, larger even than the entrance chamber, with weapon racks lining the walls and raised viewing platforms circling the upper levels like balconies overlooking an arena.
Everything gleams with the same impossible perfection as the rest of the Embrace.
Nothing here feels built by human hands.
Offerings scatter naturally towards their own Dominions the moment they enter. No one says it aloud, but the divisions are already forming. Fireborn remain with Fireborn. Waterborn with Waterborn. Everyone clings to what little familiarity they still have left.
The Overseers drift soundlessly through the space, watching.
I try not to stare at the others too openly, but curiosity keeps dragging my attention away from the sword Callen has pressed into my hands.
I’ve never seen Mana used like this before. Lightborn Mana doesn't harm. Just shields and barriers for protection. This is nothing like that.
The Fireborn fight each other without hesitation, sparks and embers bursting through the air every few seconds as steel and flame collide.
Heat rolls off them in waves strong enough that I can feel it from halfway across the Dome.
One of the younger men hurls a jet of flame towards another’s face, laughing when the other barely avoids it.
No one intervenes.
The Earthborn train more methodically nearby, the walls shuddering faintly beneath heavy strikes from fists of rock and thrown boulders.
Above them, one of the Airborn launches himself several feet into the air in a sharp burst of pressure before landing lightly back on the polished floor.
Everywhere I look, people are sharpening their skills.
Marissa stays close beside me, visibly overwhelmed by the chaos around us. Callen seems calmer, though I notice the way his eyes constantly track the stronger Offerings whenever they unleash their Mana. “They’ve done this before,” he mutters quietly.
I know exactly what he means. Not the Rites themselves, but the fighting. The violence. The Fireborn move like men raised for war.
Across the Dome, Kael leans against one of the marble pillars with his arms folded loosely across his chest. Unlike the others, he isn’t training at all. He simply watches.
Even from this distance, I can feel the weight of his attention moving across the room. I look away before he catches me staring again.
The Waterborn occupy the quietest corner of the Dome. While everyone else trains, they kneel together near one of the walls with their heads bowed slightly, murmuring soft prayers beneath their breath.
At first glance, they seem strangely detached from the tension gripping the rest of us.
Then one of them looks up. She rises smoothly to her feet and begins walking towards us.
Marissa notices first. “She’s coming over here.”
The woman moves with an unsettling sort of grace, each step slow and measured as though the air itself parts willingly around her.
Unlike most of us, she isn’t wearing the uniform provided by the Embrace.
Flowing blue fabric drapes around her body instead, threaded with silver embroidery and tiny pearl-like shells that catch the light whenever she moves.
Up close, she looks more woman than girl, beautiful, in a distant sort of way. But there’s something unnerving about her eyes. They glisten and probe, like they’re peeling back the layers of my mind.
She stops directly in front of me.
“You are troubled,” she says softly.
Her voice barely rises above the noise of the Dome, yet I hear every word clearly.
I glance at Marissa, uncertain whether she’s speaking to all of us or only me.
The Waterborn woman studies my face carefully before her gaze drifts lower, towards my chest.
“Your Mana is restless,” she whispers, only to me. “It moves strangely.”
Cold unease curls low in my stomach. “I don’t know what you mean.”