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)
A bowl of black soil that smells of loam and decay. A silver brazier holding blue-white flames that dance and twist as if alive. A glass sphere filled with swirling air currents visible only through the dust they carry. A basin of water so still it resembles polished crystal, reflecting the room like a perfect mirror.
And behind each vessel stands an elemental of the corresponding element.
Elementals.
The power radiating from them presses down on my chest until my lungs strain for air. It's like being crushed by an invisible ocean, ancient and vast beyond comprehension. Their presence fills the chamber with an ancient, primal energy that makes my skin prickle and my bones ache. Every instinct screams at me to kneel, to bow, to show submission before creatures so much more powerful than myself.
But I don't. I take them in one by one, studying their strange features.
The earth elemental resembles a woman crafted of living stone and twisting roots, her eyes gleaming like a jungle cat's in the dim light. The fire elemental is barely humanoid, more a swirling column of flame with a face that forms and dissolves above the blaze. The air elemental is a shimmering distortion visible mainly through the way it bends light around its vaguely human shape.
And the water elemental... my breath catches at the sight of him. He takes the form of a warrior, tall and powerfully built, his body composed of crystal-clear water that occasionally reveals glimpses of stronger currents beneath, like rippling muscles. His face is strikingly handsome—strong-jawed with high cheekbones and eyes that are deeper than the most distant oceans.
Elementals in stories are always beasts—wolves, great sand worms, flying reptiles and sea serpents. I've never heard anything about elementals who can take the form of humans.
A pressure builds against my mind, making my temples throb.
"Approach."
The word forms in my mind so clearly I think I can actually hear it. No—I do hear it, resonating through my skull like a physical vibration.
My knees almost buckle beneath me, my body rebelling against the sheer power behind that single command. My legs tremble as I force them to carry me forward, stopping at what I hope is a respectful distance. Their attention weighs on me until it nearly forces me to my knees, making me wish I could turn away as I might from the sun on a bright day with clear skies.
"Purpose? Reason? Volunteer?" The questions bubble up in my mind, clear and yet seeming to come from all directions at once.
I realize they're asking why I'm here, why I wear the volunteer's badge that marks me as someone who chose this path rather than being selected.
"It's complicated," I say, my voice sounding thin and weak in the vast chamber.
"Lie. Give us truth, or die."
The command slams into my mind with such force that my knees finally give, making me fall with my palms on the ground and head bowed. I feel the truth being dragged from me, as if their combined will is a hook in my soul.
"I volunteered because everyone was better off without me," I admit, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. Some things feel more noble when they’re never voiced—ideas rooted in logic so flawed it won’t survive inspection.
"Half-truth."
I sigh, fists clenching until my nails dig tiny crescents of blood from my palms. "I got half my family killed, okay? Is that what you all want me to say?" My voice rises, cracking with emotion. "They died because of me. They died because I couldn't control my emotions, and the storm came."
My throat constricts around the words as they claw their way out, each syllable cutting like daggers dragged from my insides. I lower my voice, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I don't know why it happened or how. I just know it happened because of me. I felt some part of me pulling the storm toward us, stoking it like a flame. It didn't matter how hard I tried to stop it."
I swallow hard, the memory of black waves and screaming winds so vivid I can almost feel the spray on my face. The phantom roar of the tempest fills my ears, drowning out even the thundering of my heart. I think I can even taste the salt water on my tongue for a moment. I can smell that scent of ozone. Magic.
The elementals just stare down at me and the words keep pouring from my lips.
"Both my brothers and my dad died. For some reason… I didn't. My mom and sister never forgave me. I was a reminder to them. An unwelcome memory, and getting in that carriage was my way of making amends for what I did. Trying to, at least."
I hang my head, throat thick with unshed tears. Every breath hurts like I'm inhaling shards of glass. I never talk about what happened—it's been locked inside me so long that speaking it aloud feels like tearing open a half-healed wound.