Had it been a vision, though?
The prophetic dreams felt different. They were diffused, spread across many consciousnesses, full of concrete details that later proved true. This had been singular. Focused. A nightmare rather than a prophecy.
Except, it was the second time I had the same dream. The second time that Alar died in my arms, saying those same words. It had to mean something.
Some fates can't be changed.
Had the dreams been a warning about a fate that I was supposed to change but failed to do so?
The thought was unbearable. I pushed it away, but it kept creeping back, persistent like the pain behind my eyes.
I turned my head carefully to look at Alar. The aurora lights tonight were bright enough for me to see him clearly. He was so beautiful inside and out. His loyalty. His courage. His tenacity. His willingness to sacrifice for the people he loved.
He'd killed a man to save me. He'd given up his future as a prince to stay by my side. And now he was destroying himself with worry.
All because he loved me.
And I was going to get him killed.
The certainty settled into my bones like ice. The fear was so profound that it felt like truth. My gift attracted danger. My enemies would keep coming, keep trying to eliminate me, and the people around me would pay the price.
Shovia had said she was tired of watching me be targeted by assassins. Alar had said he couldn't lose me. But what if I lost them instead? What if my survival came at the cost of everyone I loved?
The headache throbbed. I pressed my fingers harder against my temple, as if pressure could silence the thoughts along with the pain.
I should tell Saphir about the nightmare. Both of them. They might mean something. They might be warnings I didn't know how to interpret.
But what if interpreting them made them real?
What if acknowledging the possibility of Alar's death would somehow bring it about?
That was superstitious nonsense. I knew that. But lying in the dark with my head splitting and my heart racing, reasoning was hard to do.
Three days until the Day of Volition, two really, because it was probably after midnight. Two days until I bonded with a dragon and everything changed.
Saphir had said the bond would give me strength, so maybe it would also give me clarity. Maybe once I was connected to a dragon, I would be able to interpret the dreams.
Or maybe I would just have more power to fuel more terrible nightmares.
I closed my eyes, then immediately opened them again. The image of Alar dying was waiting behind my eyelids, ready to replay itself the moment I lowered my guard.
I couldn't sleep. I was too afraid to drift off.
Some fates can't be changed.
41
ALAR
"A warrior's greatest battle is rarely fought on the field. It is fought against doubt, against fear, and against the pull of divided loyalties."
—General Harven Blackrock, Reflections on Command
The examination hall was a large room that easily contained thirty-six desks arranged in neat rows, each one separated by enough space to prevent wandering eyes. Not that it was supposed to be a problem in Elucia, where truth was the highest value, but it was better for concentration not to see how the other cadets were doing on their tests.
Some would be flying through the questions, while others would be struggling.
The tests were rumored to be brutal.
