With the sudden torrential rain today, Ryc requested our sparring lesson take place in one of the training rooms below. It’s where the guards usually train, its walls warded to ensure errant magic is contained. Those imprisoned have cells down here. They’reeither awaiting trial or awaiting punishment—which never includes death, always some form of rehabilitation.
Eve’s sentence to join Celesta’s devotees serves as an example.
It’s hard to determine if Ryc’s sanctity for life is borne of genuine compassion or naivety. Or… perhaps it’s a learned reluctance to bolster the hells. Regardless, his request comes as somewhat strange considering rain has never stopped our outdoor sparring before.
Ignoring the creeping burn in my calves and thighs, I press on, throwing my braided hair over my shoulder. Oraphia was kind enough to ensure it stays out of my eyes for the lesson. She and Raevi were in my quarters this morning, and as per her usual nature, Raevi remained skittish and quiet.
I don’t know how to approach her.
Or whether I should.
I have to admit, part of me is envious.
Raevi possesses the ability to know exactly what Nektos laid out for her. She could learn exactly who she’s meant to become, what she’ll be capable of, and where she fits into this world. At the same time, would that not steal a person’s sense of self? Or their want to establish one?
Raevi is irrefutable proof Fate isn’t simply aconcept, but ratherunavoidable. Regardless of choice.
Upon further reflection, perhaps I shouldn’t envy her at all.
I heave a sigh.
Almost to the bottom.
Two hundred more stairs to go—I think.
I’ve lost count.
In the early days of my return to the living realm, Eve and I ventured through the castle, exploring the halls and hidden rooms. We discovered an abundance of interesting things—an art studio with unfinished paintings, tucked away libraries filled with scores of sheet music, and of course, the stronghold.
We ventured down here, and on our return Eve counted the stairs along the way.
One thousand six hundred and sixteen steps.
I slow as a guard ascending rounds the stairs below. She takesnotice and flattens herself against the wall, the metal of her armor scratching against the stone. Bright blue eyes set in a round human face meet mine.
“Good day, Lady Ves,” she greets with a small nod as I pass.
I offer a silent, close-lipped smile in return.
Another who can’t ferry and is forced to take the stairs.
At least being able to reach the various floors and levels of Castle Erus ispossiblefor its inhabitants who cannot ferry, unlike the Tower. Without the ability to ferry or an escort with the appropriate permissions, layers are locked off.
Here, I can explore everything on foot. As tedious as that may be.
What I would give to be able to ferry right now.
Should I ever regain my innate, I’m going to spend eternityferrying.
Everywhere.
Across the castle? Ferry.
Across the room? Ferry.
A hair out of reach?Ferry.
I push aside the growing idea of throwing myself down the rest of the stairs as voices reach me. Deep shouts, grunts, and laughter reverberate through the stairwell, quickly followed by the rippling sensation of innate use racing over my skin.
