Chapter 2 #2
Arria, Rowan, and Marcus stepped forward for their presentations.
Marcus began by lifting a large rock and smashing it onto his foot.
Birds erupted from the trees, startled by his scream.
He staggered before falling face-first into the dirt.
Gritting his teeth, he applied a green paste to his injured foot.
After a few minutes, he struggled to his feet and walked in a circle.
He had a noticeable limp, but he probably did more damage than the paste could heal.
Rowan took his turn. He held his palm over the flame of a brazier.
Elora wrinkled her nose at the burning flesh odor mixing with the fire’s crackle.
How can he stand it? Her own skin tingled, imagining her hand feeling the bite of the flames.
She couldn’t look away, though she really wanted to.
Both boys’ bravery was commendable. She wasn’t sure she’d be willing to do the same.
But did that make her a coward or just smart?
When Rowan finally pulled his hand away, he smeared a clear salve over the charred skin. When he peeled the salve away, he revealed skin that was red and swollen but unburnt.
Arria was last. She held up two bottles, one filled with a swirling black liquid and the other a small shimmering blue vial. “I have here Reaper’s Kiss and its antidote.” She glanced around the room, searching for another animal they might have brought. Really, she should look up their sleeves.
“How should I test this?”
“A bold choice, but like the others, you must test it on yourself.”
What!? He can’t be serious. Elora’s mind spiraled. Surely one of them has another rat tucked away somewhere. Elora bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t call them out on the insanity of it all. Obedience… Thorn’s fractured voice reminded her.
Arria’s fingers tightened around the vials. She stared at the canopy above, searching for some divine intervention. Elora wanted to reach out, to stop her. But Arria lifted the vial of poison to her lips and swallowed the dark liquid in a single gulp.
Without hesitating, she downed the antidote. Her breathing was rapid, her chest heaving as she waited for the antidote to work its magic.
Everyone stared at her. A bead of sweat traced a path down her temple, and her eyes darted around the room before locking straight ahead. The seconds stretched painfully long, the tension almost unbearable.
Did it work? Did she time it right?
A minute passed. Nothing.
“Well done,” Master Egorim said, allowing Arria to let out a shaky sigh of relief.
But before anyone had a chance to congratulate Arria for not dying, Master Fern marched forward. “We will perform the last two tests within—”
A sudden, violent cough tore through the master’s words. Arria’s hand flew to her throat, and color spread across her skin and face. First red, then that sickly purple of someone suffocating. An icy terror gripped Elora. No…
A choked, gurgling sound escaped Arria as she fell to her knees. She clawed at her neck and gasped for air. Her deep brown eyes locked with Elora’s, her lips quivering, struggling to form words.
The world narrowed to the sight of Arria’s body jerking uncontrollably on the ground. Elora’s thoughts were muddled. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. But the awful reality was right in front of her. Why is no one doing anything!?
She turned on the masters. “Please, do something!” Elora desperately pleaded. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest, and she hoped Tehvan would feel it. He would know what to do.
Elora fell to the ground beside her poisoned friend, grasping her hand, noting the icy chill of her skin. “Help her!” She begged again, her voice shrill and breaking. But the masters remained like statues, completely indifferent.
“We cannot intervene. This was her test. And she has failed.” His words were a cruel verdict. The other masters stood silent, watching, waiting for the poison to take its toll.
They’re going to let her die. Elora couldn’t believe what she was hearing. They might be apathetic, but she wouldn’t stand by and let that happen. Fate be damned.
She glanced around frantically, searching for anything that might help. Her eyes landed on Rowan standing near different herbs and ingredients. “Rowan!” she called, almost choking on the name. “Get me some Glintgrape! Quickly!”
He skittered out of a trance and nodded, while scrambling to grab a handful of pale pink berries known for their restorative properties. Tossing them to Elora, she crushed them between her palms, the juice staining her hands crimson.
“Arria, stay with me,” Elora whispered, as if speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile hope remained. She smeared the crushed berries against Arria’s lips, trying to coax the juice into her mouth. Don’t die. Don’t leave me.
Arria choked, her body convulsing again, but Elora didn’t give up. “Swallow…” she urged, shaking her friend’s shoulders as if that would somehow make her listen. “Come on, please.”
Seconds passed like hours. Arria’s eyes fluttered, her desperate gasps for air now faint and shallow. Elora kept whispering to her, pleading with her to survive. It has to work… it has to.
Arria’s body seemed to relax, and a spark of hope rose in Elora’s chest. But it was fleeting. Arria’s eyes settled, her lips still tinged with blue, and her chest stilled. Her fingers clawed weakly at her throat before falling limp. Lifeless.