My brows raise, nodding my head.
As she does the same.
Today, there's no trace of dried blood on her skin, nor is there any in her braided, teal hair. However, I can't help but notice the tattered state of her suit, the top stitching ripped open and fresh bandages tightly wrapped around her arm. It seems the menders were busy last night, tending to her wounds inflicted by the fire dragon's scorching breath. But I feel no pity on her.
She got what she deserved.
And I’ll do it again if I have to.
As I take steps towards Florian in the opposite corner, next to the broken tree branch, I catch sight of Koen’s blood stained along the white dirt.
My jaw clenches tightly, and I hold my breath as my eyes lock onto the sight of it. Flashes of the sword thrusting into his body rapidly replay in my mind like a broken record.
A constant, torturing reminder that I almost lost him.Again.
But, truthfully, I might have never had him back.
Our love might be lost for good. I suppose the Gods have won.
My nails dig into my palms as the metallic clinks and clanks of Ivker's mechanical arm resonate off of the walls, snapping my gaze towards him and away from the painful memory of what unfolded last night. He's wielding his sword with precision, the fiery lava in his arm brighter than ever this morning as the blade glints in the light. Beside him, Zake stands, observing and guiding as Ivker practices his movements, each swing proving he doesn’t truly need any practice.
He’s just showing off.
“Ren, over here,” Kaine calls out.
I run my fingers through my tangled hair, gathering it up into a high, messy bun as I walk over the bloodstained ground. Florian was right, the Gods will be angry for what happened here. I was blinded by rage. My mind didn’t remember, but now that I recall bits and pieces of my life, he isn’t wrong.
I know who I am. Not the woman who was sent to a place called Seattle. Not the woman who was brought back and put through hell to survive. But a woman, chosen by the Fire God, who shall use every last ember inside of her to rain fire on those who try to stop me.
And I fear what the Gods might do now, knowing that I know.
I shall continue my parents’ legacy. Even if the Realm won’t believe me now, I must show them what a true ember is. What a true descendant from our Gods is. And why the Deskyiara bloodline was chosen by the God of Fire to rule over our Realms. I’m going to show them all why, that night, the Gods chose me and not my sister, scorching me with the blue fire that rained down from the blood moon.
My eyes close, and even though it burns a damn hole through my heart to remember, I force through it.
THE ONCE AZURE MOON HAS shifted to orange, transitioning to the blood moon. My chin rises as I catch sight of the stars reflecting the light. Like shards of blood-stained glass are floating out into the dark sky.
It’s time for the God of Fire to choose the next true Queen of Azure.
And I fear it might not be me. Especially with what my heart desires.
But even at the age of fifteen, I know what is right and what is wrong. And I know, choosing a life outside of my Realm is wrong. As a Deskyiara, my duty is to the Realms. We are the chosen bloodline to rule over the others and guide them in protecting them against the darkness.
If I were to stray away, what would the Gods do?
A loud knock beats against my door as my fingers clench the railings of my balcony, catching sight of everyone from Eekatia walking into our palace doors.
“I’m coming.”I swallow in my fear.
The door creaks open anyway, and I catch sight of Tilly making her entrance in with her royal-blue ball gown dress.
“Father is waiting. It is time.”Her lips pull into a gentle smile as I walk towards her, following my sister's lead.
My fingers brush over my silk, cream dress, unsure why mother decided I, the younger sister, will be in this color for the celebration. I envy Tilly. As the elder, she always is gowned with the most exquisite dresses.
We walk up the cobblestone pathway that leads to the balcony overlooking the center of the palace, where everyone will stand and wait for the God of Fire to choose. We pause at the archway wooden door, both our fingers tapping against our thighs as we listen to our Father’s speech. I hear the crackling of fire popping outside, the sounds of others gasping in fear as they haven’t seen a celebration like this before.
The last time the God of Fire chose was with my father, centuries ago. Those in the Realm who are not a Royal, weren’t born yet. They are fearful of the Gods. As am I.
