"Prince Kairen has arranged a quest for your third trial," she began. "Before I accept his request, I wanted to confirm that this is truly what you wish for, instead of one given by myself and the other Potion Masters?"
I nodded once.
"Very well then, I will sign and get the necessary paperwork back to him. You are dismissed." She shuffled some papers gathered on her desk, her hand waving me towards the door.
It took a moment to stand, the pain of my ravaged hand finally beginning to throb back into my consciousness.
Just as I was about to take my leave, she called out to me once more.
"Oh and Apprentice Sommers." I paused, my back stiffening. “The next time you interfere with the treatment of a Luanthian within my Institution, I will have you whipped bloody on the charge of sympathizing with a traitor to the Crown. You're lucky not to be tied to the stake for treason yourself today. Merle Sommers’ niece or not, I will not have the King's ire turned upon me. Do not allow it to happen again, I will not be as merciful."
I stepped through the door and did not look back.
It should have surprised me to see Roan Delmar leaning against the wall just outside the door of the High Master’s office, his head turning slightly as I stepped into the hall.
It didn't.
There was no surprise, there was nothing. Nothing, but the all consuming despair that threatened to drag me beneath its relentless, pounding waves.
His eyes caught on the arm that I clutched defensively to my chest, to the wound that festered and bubbled there.
His lips pursed before he spoke. "Syra—”
I walked past him, my body shaking, not showing even a hint of acknowledgment that I saw or heard him.
The hall of the fifth floor was empty, not another soul lingered after the devastation. Had the other apprentices scattered so swiftly after the trial because they too felt horror at what had taken place, or were they simply happy to have passed and been quick to go celebrate?
Reaching the stairs, shaky steps took me down and down and down.
I needed out.
Yes, little shadow.
They were not writhing, but soothing. Brushing against my tattered soul, against my whirling, ravaged mind like a cat greeting their beloved owner. They wrapped around my pain, my rage.
Now you see,
You can never be free.
In a world of such torment
in a kingdom of actions so abhorrent.
And see I did.
Will you still not allow retribution
for this horrid persecution?
I had lived within the bubble of Merle's protection my entire time with her. I knew the mistreatment, and saw it everyday. I saw it in the Old Quarter and witnessed it in the markets and streets of Amori City, but had never truly encountered it again like the night of The Cleansing. I knew there were still burnings, that Luanthians were tied to the stake for treason, but I never attended the public horrors. Never acknowledged them when I knew there was nothing to be done of it.
But this.
I had no choice but to acknowledge it, to see it.
To feel it.
To know that I was acoward.
