“Fine,” he says, looking away again. “What do you want to talk about?”
“OK…” I rub my palms across my lap. He relented more easily than I thought he would. “What happens when we arrive in the capital?”
“The Obsidian Banquet is at the palace tomorrow night, and the competitors usually set sail for Aurora Isle the day after. That’s all I know.”
“OK.” I have a bigger question – one I hesitate to ask. “Do you know what Madame Vera’s wish is?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Well, if we win the tournament, how are we supposed to make her wish if we don’t know what it is?”
“As victors of the Reckoning, we’ll have the opportunity of relinquishing our wish to anyone of our choosing.”
“What if I wish to bring my sister back?”
He rolls his eyes. “That won’t work.”
I blink in surprise. “Why not?”
“There are rules. The first is that the wish must be unanimous. Both of us have to want it. And the second … well, the way your sister died isn’t something the wish can fix.” He lets the silence settle. “The wish is rooted in creation and life, whereas a Soulreaper’s talents twist what’s natural and corrupt it. They don’t simply take a life, but strip the soul and tear it from the weave of existence itself.The wish can heal wounds and return what’s been lost, but it can’t replace something that’s been removed from the natural order of life and death.”
“Oh,” I manage. A shiver runs through me. I’m determined not to cry in front of him, but it’s hard to stay strong. Madame Vera is my only hope.
But how can I trust the person who put me in this situation? The person who took Elara from me?
“How much do you actually know about the tournament?” Taron asks. “Have you heard of the Astrals? You must have been taught about them in school.”
I nod. “The Astrals are the founders of the Reckoning. Three soldiers who rebelled against the tyrant, Valerius Halo.”
It’s said that three hundred Stellar Years ago, Valerius, a rich farmer hailing from a then-respected Soulreaper family, discovered a fallen star in his fields – a radiant crystal. He had it set into a crystal amulet for his wife, but soon realized it held immense power, capable of granting his every desire. Except, the star could only grant one wish per person. Valerius was consumed by greed. He broke all the laws of the Soulreaper’s Decree by manipulating the souls of the poor and the desperate, forcing them to make wishes on his behalf.
The repercussions were catastrophic. He claimed the thrones of all three principalities in the Triumstellar Accord and plunged society into suffering and despair.
That’s when the Astrals came to be. Three soldierson the Principal Guard who came together to challenge him. They emerged victorious, and the Halo family name descended into the shadows.
The Astrals realized the danger of letting the star fall into the wrong hands, but they believed in unity and still wanted to share its power with the people of the Accord.
So, the Reckoning was born. They made a wish to bind their immortal souls to the star and become its guardians. They wished for a place where the star’s power could be safely harnessed and shared with the world in a controlled manner – a place that would be tethered to its magic, existing only every ten Stellar Years, when the conditions were just right. Aurora Isle.
The Astrals orchestrate the tournament as a testament to their unwavering commitment to the star, a vow etched in the constellations themselves. Most people believe they’re the faces behind the Games Master, whose reports of the tournament routinely get delivered to doorsteps throughout the competition.
Others speculate the Games Master is a fabrication by the High Council to drive more public excitement around the tournament. I’m not sure what I believe, now more than ever.
“Well,” Taron says, “the Astrals conceived the Reckoning so no single person could wield total power. That’s why the wish needs to be unanimously decided upon by both teammates.”
“But that’s what I don’t understand. If we hand thewish to Madame Vera, she’d be one person deciding the outcome. That goes against everything the Astrals stand for. A unanimous wish from two people to fulfil their desires? Why would they allow it?”
“It’s a grey area.” Taron shrugs, a careless motion. “If you think about it, surrendering the wish might just be the most unified decision of all … despite placing it in the hands of one person. I think the Astrals will allow it, because it’s unlikely. After all, human nature leans towards selfishness. Why would a team choose to relinquish their wish, if not for something bigger than themselves?”
Maybe because they’re being blackmailed by an old crone.“Any other rules I need to know about?” I ask.
“Just the obvious ones.”
“Which are?”
“Your wish can’t extend to more wishes or undo the life of another. Which is ironic considering the lethal nature of the tournament, but there you go.”
A few nagging questions still gnaw at me. “We’re competing in teams. What happens if one of us fails, quits or is killed during the tournament? Even worse, what happens if we get caught as imposters?”
