Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
I accept his explanation for now. It has the ring of truth, and frankly, I can only handle so many revelations in one day. Now that he knows my secret, he might be held complicit if it gets out. We're bound by this knowledge, whether I like it or not.
We rejoin the flow of survivors. With Bastian beside me, the guards barely glance at my now-blue mark before waving me toward the water corridor. My heart thumps so loudly I'm certain everyone can hear it as we pass. Did it work? Did they actually fall for it?
"Wait," I say, pausing at the threshold. Something in Bastian's earlier words gnaws at me. "What exactly happens in the combat assessment?"
A shadow crosses his face. "A simple training match. Today, I think most offerings won't fully grasp what's going on here. Today, you should still be safe."
"What the hell does that mean?" I ask, already growing tired of half-truths and cryptic warnings.
He steps closer, eyes scanning to make sure we're not overheard. "You're an offering. Yes, you've all shown you have an affinity. But that's only the first step. You're not valuable to the Empire unless you earn an elemental tether on Confluence Day." His voice drops even lower. "Until you tether, you’re expendable. They won’t stop you from killing one another. The strong weed out the weak,” he says in a way that makes me think it’s a common phrase around here.”
Understanding hits me like ice water. "So these combat assessments could turn deadly?" I ask, bile rising in my throat.
Bastian nods grimly. "These two months before Confluence Day will be the most dangerous. They'll train you. They'll teach you about history and magic. But the real test? It's surviving until Confluence Day. Survive that, and the Academy will finally start treating you like the valuable resource you are. Until then, just about anything goes. Your peers won't realize it right away. But it won't be long before they do."
My mouth goes dry, a cold dread settling in my bones. "Who will I have to fight?"
Bastian's eyes dart over my shoulder, and his expression hardens. I turn to follow his gaze and find Raith standing with the other fire affinities, his eyes already watching me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
Though I can't say for certain, I think he is taking personal offense to the fact that I'm standing and talking to Bastian right now.
"Some days, the instructors will allow challenges," Bastian says quietly. "I expect they'll let us know we're able to issue them today as a way to set the tone. I would normally say not to worry, because you haven't had time to make enemies."
My smile feels brittle on my face. He knows it, too.
Beside Raith, I see the beautiful, dark haired girl with the braid. She's leaning with her arms crossed and her perfect lips are curved into a predatory smile. Like Raith, she's watching Bastian and me.
Already, I think both of them might just break me and leave me for dead if they're allowed to challenge me.
"Everyone," a guard calls. "Move along to the training arena. Sparring matches will begin soon."
The girl meets my eyes, then drags a finger across her throat as she smiles sweetly.
My newly disguised water mark throbs on my palm, and somewhere deeper, the silver spiral pulses in rhythm with my racing heart—a heart I hope will still be beating in a few minutes.
4
"Stance wider! Arms up! You're not dancing at a royal ball—you're fighting for your lives! For Empire! For your families and all those without the strength to fight for themselves!"
The instructor's voice echoes across the cavernous training arena, bouncing off ancient stone walls stained with centuries of sweat and blood. High arched windows frame the darkening mountains beyond, their jagged peaks tipped with snow.
I stand among nearly a hundred water affinities, muscles trembling with effort. The disguised mark on my palm tingles with a persistent itch I dare not scratch. More waters trickle into the room, their faces drawn and pale as they fall into formation beside me. I've lost track of time since stepping out of that carriage—has it been hours? Just minutes? My body can't tell the difference anymore, every moment seems to stretch on with agonizing slowness.
My body's survival instinct has been on high alert for so long I can finally feel it starting to dim, even though the threat clearly hasn't passed. Maybe it never will so long as I'm behind these walls.
My legs burn from holding the same defensive stance for so long, but I refuse to show weakness. Not here. Not when Bastian’s words still ring in my mind.
Expendable.
Survive until Confluence Day.
A glint of deep copper catches my eye—Mireen's unmistakable red hair as she slides into formation beside me. Something loosens in my chest at the sight of her.