The mount and lance disappear, the light from the flames burning the shadows. Immediately, Azric is consumed by it, but then it sputters out. The Mark of the Phoenix is short-lived, but I can use italmostat will with how quickly it regenerates.
The Prince of Bones falls, but in barely more than a second, bone-framed wings have sprouted from his back, and he’s slowly gliding to the stone at my feet. When his boots touch the ground, he pats at his riding coat and shakes his head. “This was my favorite coat,” he mutters and looks up at me.
To nearly anyone else, that would have permanently disfigured them if it hadn’t killed them on the spot. Dragonfire burns hotterthan nearly any other flame on Nyth, and it will melt even steel if it lingers long enough. Even for as short-lived as the Mark of the Phoenix is, it’s rare anyone survives.
But the Cyrus family comes from the House of Flames, which existed before the Godforged were created, and they have complete mastery over flames of all types. “You said you let Inni deal with them. I thought I’d try the same thing, and it seems to have worked.”
“Of course it worked. I wasn’t expecting it, and no one else will either. Though you should know it’ll only work once. If you don’t kill Elara with the first blast, she’ll wait you out. You still can’t fly.”
I smirk. “Are you sure I can’t?”
Azric frowns. “I guess not, but I’ve never seen a Priest fly. Which Mark is that?”
“The only way we can fly is with the Infusion that gave me wings. I was kidding. But I can wield lightning with a Mark and with arrows, so I think one of those options is probably my best bet rather than trying to fight her with daggers.”
He nods. “Most likely. Elara is probably your least threatening opponent, though. Be aware of that. Isola can destroy anything, steel included, given enough time. She’s hard to kill and can use her abilities at range. If she’s glowing, she’s killing things, and you may not even be able to see what exactly she’s pinpointed. No one wants to go toe-to-toe with an Undying. Even Priests know that. Your flames, lightning, and arrows won’t be able to touch her because the aura she exudes will be strong enough to destroy even lightning before it touches her.”
I did not know that. “Not all the Undying are like that, are they?”
Azric shakes his head. “No. Only the very upper tiers of my army can create an aura that strong.”
So Rhaskar just didn’t understand. That isn’t a surprise. For all the knowledge he has on the Godforged, much of it is very incomplete. “So how do I fight Isola?”
“Make her keep the aura up and exhaust her. You saw how quickly she tired in the third trial. Make her maintain that aura without getting within range of it. Throw rocks at her if you have to. Shadow walk to her or shoot her with your bow when it drops because she’s probably going to feign her exhaustion to trick you into coming within range.”
I nod to him and smile. The only other one is Jorren. And that’s terrifying. I saw what he could do with that blue mist. What will he make me see?
Azric steps closer to me, close enough that I can smell him. “Now, are you going to tell me what happened last night?”
I shake my head. “I will not.”
“You were on the verge of breaking again. Now you’re ready to train? Something’s changed, so what is it?”
I smile at him. “I figured…somethingout. Well, maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. But I don’t feel as hopeless as I did last night. I didn’t ask you to come up here to help me so we could talk about last night, though. I need to understand my enemies, not my emotions, and I’m surprisingly short on time.”
He sighs and shrugs. “I can’t help you with Jorren other than advice. His powers are impossible for me to recreate. I’ll just tellyou this. Don’t try to outlast him. Kill him fast or run very far from him. Make things physical as soon as you can because he can’t win a fast fight. Using a bow against one of the Lost is a terrible decision, and you’ll probably end up falling off a cliff trying to escape whatever demons of your past he sets upon you.”
The thought makes me shiver. There’s no way I want him anywhere near me. More than Isola and Elara, without a doubt.
“Do you have any idea what the trial will be?” I ask, rather than try to have a conversation about Jorren.
He shrugs again. “It could be anything, but there must be a clear and obvious winner. He’s already proven your combat abilities with the third trial, so whatever happens in this one will probably have something to do with things uniquely him. Darkness and secrets, Fiona.”
Darkness and secrets.Those two ideas have become the moon around which my life orbits. Ferreting out secrets has become a second profession, and darkness is in everything. The night sky, the hearts of my competitors, and more than anything, my thoughts toward the future.
Because my vision of the future is like looking into a moonless forest and trying to find my way. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow night. Not in a week. I’d had plans and schedules before. I’d had dreams of what I wanted my life to be. Now, I understand that my life isn’t ever going to involve knowing the future. All I can do is exist in the darkness of the present.
“Do you think it’ll be a tournament like Draeven held?” I ask.
Azric shakes his head. “I could see Nyxthos doing nearly anything other than that. You’ll probably still interact with each other within the trial because it would be rather boring for the spectators otherwise, but somehow, I doubt it will be simple combat. That’s just not his way.”
He runs his hand over his cheek, and his nails scratch the short hair with a rasping sound. “No, it will probably be more like the Shadow Road. That trial was the truest to him. The second and third trials were necessities, but the final one will be based on what matters most to him.”
I frown. “Then how am I supposed to prepare myself?”
“I don’t know if you’re supposed to.”
I huff and sit down on the ground and wrap my arms around my knees. “Then what are we supposed to do? Just wait to die?”
