A yell reached his ear, and he had to watch the woman who had been stealthy and quick fall. It seemed so fast, but he had no doubt the journey down must have felt like hours. The crunch of bones crackled in his ears. The cohort of ten original competitors were now down to eight.
The crater in the cavern kept going down, hiding spots peppering its walls. He brought out some of his light into his hands, allowing him to get a better look.
There was a tight alcove in one section, and Jasyn crawled inside to inspect its depths. It didn’t lead far, and there was no Heart to be found. Jasyn took a moment to sulk in disappointment. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. With it being such a tight fit, Jasyn had to move backwards, exposing himself in ways he didn’t like. He nudged himself out quickly.
Still hidden from view, Jasyn looked up again to see the dragon beginning its vicious attacks on the competitors. One of them was on a ledge, sword in one hand and flames in the other. He swiped the sword as the dragon got closer to him, but the action only resulted in him stepping too far off the ledge. He slipped, and Jasyn winced as the man fell off, barely able to grasp the rock to stop him from falling. The competitor hung there, but with one hand occupied with the sword, he wouldn’t be able to swing himself back to safety.
Even from a distance, Jasyn could see the competitor contemplating his next move. He let go of the sword, but it was fruitless, because the dragon flew by, causing the competitor to lose his grip. Jasyn closed his eyes this time, unable to stomachthe sight of another death. He took that as his cue to move. This wouldn’t end until someone killed the dragon and got the Heart.
“You,” said a voice Jasyn dreaded hearing.
Jasyn put up the one hand not holding a sword in surrender. “Bron.”
Bron looked feral, and Jasyn saw his sleeve had been burnt, revealing welted red skin beneath. Jasyn wondered if that was from the dragon or another competitor.
“There’s only one outcome here,” Bron warned.
“Esi will never forgive you if I end up dead.” Those were not the right words. Jasyn could now trust that Bron’s decision to enter the Undertaking was beyond Esi.
Bron snorted. “What gives you the right to say that? You barely know her. You’ve spent every waking minute with that fraud, Iskra.”
A low growl reverberated from the back of Jasyn’s throat, and he had no idea why he was defensive of a woman who had lied to him.
“What about Mych?”
“That was one night.” But the words sounded shallow from Bron’s lips, like he couldn’t even convince himself of the lie.
“It could be more.”
Jasyn knew, with the way Bron was stalking towards him, that no words would convince him to stop this madness. Bron was on a mission, and Jasyn needed to learn what exactly was pushing him. Jasyn tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword as Bron neared. He stuck his blade out so Bron wouldn’t get too close.
“It doesn’t have to end this way,” Jasyn pleaded. “There is a reality in which we both come out alive.”
Bron circled him, and Jasyn had to turn to keep eyes on him. Bron’s sword was still, hand on the hilt, like he was assessing before he committed to the inevitable squabble.
“But there is only one outcome in which I end up king. And you need to be dead for the people to accept me as their new ruler.”
Finally, Bron unsheathed his blade, and Jasyn backed up to create distance between them. Bron smirked, but Jasyn didn’t care if he appeared cowardly for choosing to be strategic. He wanted to save his energy.
“Put down the sword,” Jasyn said, more harsh now. “Let’s both search for the Heart instead of acting on this petty fight you’ve concocted in your head.”
Those words hit some mark in Bron, because his sword came slashing toward Jasyn in quick, effortless moves, forcing Jasyn to back away further. Jasyn was on defense, but he expected nothing less when fighting a trained guard.
Jasyn blocked the attack, but Bron wasn’t discouraged. He was smiling widely, hungry for this fight, while Jasyn could barely take a deep breath. He had trained for years for the Undertaking, but it didn’t equip him for something so personal. Being a prince should have clued him in on that possibility, but for most of his life, the idea of entering was never on the horizon. It was always meant to be Jaymes, and when he died, Dahlia was to rule.
Jasyn heard a scream in the distance, and he winced at another death. He regretted being so distracted, because Bron started attacking in earnest, his movements nonstop and fast. Jasyn parried the oncoming thrust in his direction, and he managed to get a hit on Bron’s arm.
Bron grunted in pain as the slice hit the burn marks, and Jasyn used the moment to his advantage, re-centering himself. A shadow eclipsed them, but Jasyn refused to look up to see where the dragon headed. He just hoped it wasn’t towards them.
“You don’t deserve the crown,” Bron spat. “Prince Jaymes and Princess Dahlia should be here.”
Unlike Bron, Jasyn understood the tactic, and he wouldn’t let the words hit their intended mark. Esi—or, he should say, Iskra—showed him how he could lead, how he was good at it if he built up his confidence. He did deserve the crown, as long as he continued to rule with kindness. With Iskra’s help, he could survive the throne and thrive on it.
“I can’t turn back time,” Jasyn said. “They’re gone, and now, I must push forward.”
Bron slashed again, his movements growing hurried. He wasn’t liking how the conversation was going, it seemed. It was making his moves frantic, and Jasyn had no choice but to keep his distance.
Jasyn hissed as Bron cut near his shoulder, the pain slicing across his whole body. He didn’t allow himself to look at the damage, because Bron kept advancing.
