Chapter 26
“Self-sacrifice is either the most altruistic or selfish act that one can partake in.
The soul chooses which, so make your intention clear.”
- The Old Book
The moment I stepped out of the dining hall, I headed down the corridor that led to the library.
As I rounded one corner, a hand latched onto my arm and yanked me sideways.
I stumbled into a darkened room, and the door clicked closed behind me.
My eyes quickly adapted to the darkness, and I whipped my head toward my kidnapper.
I exhaled sharply and forced my shoulders to relax.
Renata.
“Is this the part where you finally kill me?” I muttered, half-taunt, half-truth.
We weren’t friends, not by any stretch of the imagination. But I didn’t truly think that she wanted me dead.
Renata scoffed, arms crossed over her chest. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know what this is about.”
I blinked, momentarily thrown. “I can assure you I don’t.”
She didn’t hesitate.
“You’re a seer.”
The words landed like a slap—sharp, undeniable, and dangerous. She didn’t phrase it as a question—she said it as fact, one with no room for argument. My throat tightened. I had never dared to say the word aloud.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. Poorly.
Renata’s lips curled, unimpressed. “Stop playing coy. Rowan told me everything. I know about the visions.”
My pulse spiked, and my anger renewed. My nails bit into my palms as I ground my teeth together.
I was going to cut him the next time I saw him.
Slowly. The knife I won—my knife—was tucked away in my top dresser drawer, where I kept it safe from prying eyes.
I wasn’t foolish enough to carry it on me. Not in a place like this.
“For goddess’ sake, I’m not going to tell anyone,” Renata said, exasperation lacing her voice. “I’m only here because I want to make sure you don’t either.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you care?”
Renata exhaled sharply, then tilted her head, watching me the way a predator watches prey just before deciding if it’s worth the effort. “You’re not quite the leech I pegged you for upon our first encounter.”
“How lovely,” I mocked.
“The moment I saw your blood get swallowed by the Ground, I knew you were different. Do you know how many times I’ve seen that happen?”
I hesitated. “No.”
“Once. You.”
A cold weight settled on my chest. “What do you mean?”
Renata’s expression remained unreadable, but there was something in the way her jaw tensed, like she was considering how much to say.
“I thought it suspicious that someone supposedly blessed by Our Lady would find themselves in such a predicament.” She studied me, gaze calculating. “But I saw the evidence of your blessing right before my own eyes. I couldn’t dispute it—nor could I turn you away. We had to take you.”
“Had to?” I echoed.
“The whole thing felt like a ruse—a setup.” Her voice was edged, sharp as steel.
“I watched as you wormed your way closer to our commanding officer, and I thought—this girl is a threat. I truly believed you were infiltrating our ranks to stab us in the back.” She let the words settle, let them sink in before she added, “Until I saw Balor’s blood on your hands. ”
My breath caught at the memory.
“That’s when I learned,” she said, voice almost bored, “that you don’t have nearly as much fight in you as some people seem to think.”
Anger crawled up my spine once more. My muscles went taut, heat burning behind my ribs.
I bit out, “Yeah? Well, I saved your life with the rebels.”
“Maybe,” she said carelessly.
“Is there a point in this conversation?” I snapped.
Her expression darkened.
“Yes.” She stepped closer until I could see the shadows flickering in her green eyes.
“Do you know how rare you are? There hasn’t been a known seer in Ravaryn for over a hundred years, not since the Prophet King himself.
You must tell no one about your abilities.
If the Guild learns what you can do, they will strap you to every monitor and bleed you dry in search of how to recreate you. ”
My breath stilled.
I swallowed, forcing down the rising panic. “Since when do you care about what happens to me?”
Renata scoffed, but there was something else in her expression.
“It’s not in my best interest for you to die yet.”
She stepped back, the tension between us unraveling into something murky and indecipherable. Then she turned, striding toward the door. Before she stepped out, she tossed one last look over her shoulder.
“So live.”
Then, she was gone.
I exhaled shakily, my pulse still thrumming in my ears.
For a moment, I stood in the darkness, letting the silence settle over me.
A heavy unease settled deep in me, mixing with the lingering frustration and confusion from our encounter.
I swallowed the rising bile down. Then, with no other choice, I left the room, carrying her warning with me.
Before I could fully gather myself and head toward the library as planned, a voice sharply cut through the haze of my thoughts, drawing my immediate attention.
“Ms. Ashbone.”
“Y-yes.” I stuttered. I never stuttered. I turned to find the sentry Karina standing a few paces away.
“It is time for your first truth session. Please follow me.” With that, she took off in the opposite direction from the library.
There went my plans again. I reluctantly followed.
Karina led me into a room with light brighter and whiter than any I’d ever encountered before.
It felt like staring into the sun, and my eyes had a hard time adjusting to the harshness.
There were two white leather armchairs facing each other.
In one of them sat a middle-aged woman, looking at me with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.
The woman had tight black curls that sat atop her head, and her dark skin radiated in contrast to the room’s atmosphere. She was sitting with one leg crossed over the other and a notepad in her lap.
With a voice like velvet, she greeted me.
“Hello, Mavis, my name is Adina. It’s wonderful to meet you. Would you like to have a seat?” She gestured to the other chair.
I took hesitant steps toward the seat. Once I sat, I tried to settle myself, but every angle felt uncomfortable.
It had nothing to do with the quality of the chair, and everything to do with the prodding gaze I felt boring into me.
She was already attempting to psychoanalyze before the session had truly even started.
This was going to be a challenge.
I met Adina’s prying eyes just as a sharp sting registered at the back of my neck. I whirled around to see Karina stepping away, holding a thick syringe. A needle she had just plunged into the base of my skull.
“It’s a biodegradable transmitter,” Adina said casually, bringing my attention back to her as I rubbed circles around the injection site.
“It will dissolve naturally within a day. Actually, it’s a rather fascinating invention if you ask me.
It attaches itself to the base of the cranium and can sense the physical changes that occur when lies are told.
When a lie is detected, it emits an electric shock.
Nothing too powerful to do any permanent damage, but I have heard reports from participants that it left them feeling dazed for a few days. ”
She leaned forward.
“My advice? Tell the truth.”
It was a threat disguised as a friendly warning.
Turning to the side, she grabbed the steaming mug off her desk. She sipped the beverage and hummed before placing it back down.
“I should warn you,” she said, pulling out a little rectangular box from a drawer.
“This remote can trigger the transmitter manually, should you choose not to answer at all.” She placed the remote on the desk.
“I want you to achieve inner peace, Mavis, but sometimes the journey comes with a little pain. Don’t fight me, and I’ll ensure you make it through this as pain-free as possible. Are you able to do that?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
Adina smiled, false sympathy waxed on.
“Let’s begin with your family. Who is waiting for you back at home?”
I reflexively tensed, and Adina saw. A glimmer of interest shone as her pupils slightly dilated.
“Tell me about them. It’s a sore topic for you, which means it’s a great place for us to start.”
“I have a brother, and I live with my mother.”
“Is your father out of the picture?”
“He’s dead,” I said curtly.
“Oh, that’s unfortunate. How did he die?”
I swallowed hard, turning my face to the side.
The answer was never easy to verbalize, not without remembering the image all over again.
I was holding onto my composure the best I could, but the cracks were there.
A shock pulsed from the back of my head forward.
It was twice the strength of any headache I’d ever experienced.
I clutched onto the sides of my head and whimpered. I was just about to scream when it faded. It had only lasted a few seconds at most, but it had been agonizing. My brain felt rattled, and I had a bit of difficulty refocusing my eyes upon Adina.
She was holding the remote, and not an ounce of remorse shone on her face.
“How did he die?” she repeated.
“He ended his own life.”
I rubbed my temples, trying to clear the fog that clouded me and wipe away the residual pain.
“Did you find his body?”
“No, my mother did.” I paused and looked at the floor, seeing my reflection peering back. When I glanced upward, I saw Adina moving her hand toward the remote.
“I saw him, though,” the words spewed out. “My mother refused to remove his body for three days after his death. On the third day, several townspeople came and took his body.”
“My condolences for your loss, and the depth of tragedy it surely brought to your family. The lack of a father figure during such pivotal developmental years can be detrimental, especially when the death is traumatic. Did having your brother there with you during all of this help?”
“My brother was taken in the Culling of our village a year before our father passed.”
“I apologize for the misunderstanding.” She furrowed her brow briefly before smoothing it out once more. “You spoke of him as if he were still with us.”
“I have hope that he is.”
“Hmm.” Adina looked down and scribbled something on her notepad before looking up once more. “What about your mother? How did she handle the loss of both your brother and father?”
“It broke her.”
“Did it break you, Mavis?”
“What?”
“Did the loss of both your brother and father, and the inadequacy of your mother’s ability to parent you through such important and difficult times, break you?”
The harshness of her words hit like a slap to the face. They were blunt and apathetic.
“I’m fine.”
Pain laced through my head once more, but this time, I did scream. I fell out of the chair and landed on my knees, cradling my head.
“Now we both know that’s not true. Tell me, do you feel guilty?”
The pain slowly increased until tears were streaming down my cheeks involuntarily.
The voice in my head yelled, Don’t give in! Fight!
But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle a second more of the pain, and so I cried out.
“I could have stopped it!”
Adina scooted to the front of her chair and cocked her head. I had one hand on the back of my neck and the other gripping my knees to my chest.
“What could you have stopped, Mavis?” She pressed.
“My father’s death,” I whispered, shattered by the truth behind those words.
“Why do you think that?”
Stop!
I opened my mouth to spill all my secrets. Every damnable one. I was going to tell her about the visions. All because I couldn’t handle the agony anymore. It felt like my head was going to implode.
A timer rang, and the pressure receded.
“Well, unfortunately for us, that is all the time we have today. I will see you again sometime next week. You’ll be summoned to this same room. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
I stood shakily from the floor, feeling every muscle in my body trembling in protest. I closed my eyes tightly, attempting to clear the dizziness trying to take over. Each step toward the door was like trudging through thick mud, heavy and unsteady.
I reached out to brace myself against the wall, fingers gripping the cold, unyielding surface as the room tilted and swayed around me. I fought to take a deep breath, but even breathing felt difficult, like the air had turned syrupy.
As I stepped out into the hallway, the change in the lighting intensified the ache in my head, deepening the shadows creeping along the edges of my vision. I trembled, warm sweat coating me like grease.
I couldn’t keep my breath under control. Was this what they called a panic attack?
It felt like a heart attack.
I barely registered the figure standing before me until familiar, concerned light brown eyes pierced through the encroaching haze. Rowan’s expression shifted rapidly from mild curiosity to alarm as he took in my pallid complexion and trembling form.
“Mavis?” he called, his voice sounding muffled and distant.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound emerged. Darkness pooled at the corners of my sight, blotting out Rowan’s worried face piece by piece. My knees suddenly gave way beneath me, my strength evaporating completely as gravity pulled me downward.
Strong, warm arms swiftly encircled me, halting my fall just inches before I hit the floor. The scent of sandalwood enveloped me, comfortable and soothing. It cut through the overwhelming sensations. My head rested heavily against Rowan’s chest, feeling his steady pulse beneath me.
Finally safe, I sank into the welcoming darkness.