Prologue
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Many millennia ago, a cosmic cataclysm occurred, bringing together the raw elemental forces of the universe. This fusion of energies created the world of Eleclestial, imbuing it with the essence of all six natural elements—fire, water, earth, air, light, and shadow—making it a living, breathing entity with innate magic pulsing through its core.
Now—centuries later—the harmonious symphony of elements has faltered, and Eleclestial is no longer thriving. Air, once crisp and gentle, bears the oppressive weight of the searing heat. Water, once plentiful and untainted, dwindles to a mere whisper. Light and darkness, two elements that have always existed in perfect equilibrium, wage a war in the skies, sometimes shrouding the sun for days. And every year, the soil yields less and less. The planet has become poisoned—no longer able to bear the sustenance needed for humanity to thrive.
So not everyone will.
My name is Serafina Belva Octonova, the fourth daughter of Greerson and Cresla Octonova, but the only one to survive past my twentieth year. In a dying world, where resources are few and far between, adulthood is a privilege only few can earn.
That’s why the trials began one hundred and twenty-one years ago.
The first trial tests strength, culling the weak and malnourished early. Two of my sisters never made it through, both sentenced to death at age fifteen.
The second trial is different. A written exam that all eighteen year olds must take. It assesses your knowledge of the land and its resources, ensuring those who do survive are valuable, educated, and useful. Telfi, my closest sister in age, immersed herself in study, and she still failed. She faced execution that same day. I never got to say goodbye.
At twenty-one, you face your final trial, an unpredictable danger that makes it impossible to prepare for. It’s also when most Essentari decide to reveal themselves. The six elements that shaped our world still ebb and flow around us, but only a select few can harness the power needed to control them.
Not everyone can pass the third trial. Our society would crumble if too many made it through, and the Essentari, with their command of the elements, are basically guaranteed a final spot. So if one is discovered prior to their twenty-first year, the goal of most in their class is to take them out before they become one of the untouchables—one of the few who get tolive.
The Essentari may be blessed. They may be gifted. But until they pass the third trial, they’re nothing more than cursed.
Chapter 1
Serafina
Some must die, so others may live. Some must die, so others may live.The phrase echoes in my mind as I walk down the alley lined with decaying brick walls. Reaching out, I drag my finger across the rust-colored surface, enjoying the feel of the crumbling clay.
The apartments down this way were built centuries ago, and they haven’t been maintained. Why would they be? No one lives in these neighborhoods.
At least,not anymore.
Most of the homes in Village 28 are empty—they’vebeenempty—but that’s exactly how it needs to be.
Some must die, so others may live.It’s the saying of our people. What’s been recited to us every day for as long as I can remember.But evenafter being told those words countless times, they still feel thick on my tongue—unnatural even—and I worry that feeling will never go away.
Beneath my feet, the bone-dry dirt scuffs my worn leather moccasins. Moccasins I took from under my sister Telfi’s bed the morning after she was killed. They’re too big for me, but I wear them anyway. I’ve been wearing them for four years, waiting for the day they fall apart completely.
I pick up my pace. I rarely take this way home. No Enforcers patrol this route, considering these streets to be abandoned.
But that’s what makes them dangerous.
I look to the sky, to where a thin line of faded blue fills the space between the vacant buildings. The sun is setting. It’ll be dark soon.
If only my legs hadn’t been so tired. If only my feet hadn’t been so swollen from a long day of bartering in the market, trying to trade my homemade salves for something—anything—that would put a smile on my mother’s face. With my final trial rapidly approaching, she’s been a bit more sullen than usual.
But they were.
So here I am, taking the quickest route home, telling myself it’s worth the risk.
Only it isn’t.
Because someone’s following me.
They’ve been following me.
I picked up on it a few streets back. With the third trial only sixty days away, I should’ve expected this. Each village is only allowed one hundred graduates, and as of this morning, there are just over two hundred of us.
