And I wish it could because what’s the point of having this power if no good can ever come from it?
“It will keep you alive,”Nyxa says, her soothing tone once again calming my erratic thoughts.“Fire may not heal, but it cleanses. Fire allows for new life to grow, to exist, to thrive. Do not belittle the element we wield.”
“You’re right,”I say, annoyed at myself for allowing negative thoughts to weave into my mind.
I’ve just been so…lonely. So…frustrated lately that I swear I could combust.
“He will come when he’s ready,”she says.
But what if he never is?What if I never see him again? But I know I will, because he’s the only way I’ll be able to make it back to my village in time for the final trial. With it now only days away, we’d need to use light to travel.
He will come.
I will see him again.
The only problem is…I don’t know what I’ll say to him when I finally do.
* * *
“Have you seen him at all?” I ask Ishla for what feels like the millionth time. She continues to scurry around my room, picking up loose pieces of clothing and flinging them into a bin.
I catch sight of the scar on her forehead, a painful reminder of when she almost died.
After she was attacked, after she tried to protectme, she spent over a week in the healer’s wing of the palace. The day she finally came to my room, I could hardly contain myself. I flung my arms around her andwept.
I wept becauseshe’s alive.
And I’ll never not be grateful for that.
I used to say that Char was my only friend, but that’s not true anymore, and it’s nice knowing that. That I have more people in my life that I love and care about.
“I have not,” she says at last. It’s the same response as always, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s a lie, if she’s been orderednotto say.
Pushing those thoughts aside, wanting to believe she would tell me if she could, my thoughts drift to other things.
My final trial is in two days.
“What was yours like?” I ask, and she glances in my direction with a raised brow. “Your final trial?”
She stops moving.
“I…” she starts, but doesn’t continue, and I curse myself for even asking. Clearly, it’s not something she wishes to speak about and with how horrendous the final trials seem to be, I can understand why.
“Never mind, it was silly for me to ask. I just…I wish I knew what to expect.”
“And I wish I could tell you,” she finally says, her green eyes searching mine. “But I can’t.” Her voice breaks, and I curse myself again for bringing painful memories to the surface.
“I’m so sorry, Ishla. Please, forgive me,” I tell her quickly, wanting to wipe the despair from her face and see her resume what she would claim to be apeaceful task.
“You don’t understand,” she says, her words quiet, whispered. She looks around, as if there’s someone else in the room with us. I sit up straight as pins prickle down my spine. “I can’t tell you because I don’t know. I never made it past the first.”
My mouth falls open then closes. She continues to stare at me, as if she’s trying tomakeme understand. But I don’t. I don’t understand at all.
“I should not have said that. Please forget I said that.” She flees the room before I can beg her not to.
How is that possible?
Ishla never passed the first trial?
