Valen's hand tightens around my waist, his touch Sending a chill racing down my back.His other hand cups my cheek, holding my face to his with a tenderness that catches me off guard. "You look extremely ravishing tonight," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.I feel the heat crawling up to my cheeks, betraying the blush that threatens to surface. But I know better than to let myself be swayed by his charm. This is just another facade. In the blink of an eye, he'll revert to his usual cold and distant self."I'm not a maiden tied to a tree," I whisper, our lips tantalizingly close. He brushes his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin as he inhales deeply."I don't care about that," he replies, his voice laden with sincerity."It is your tradition?" I ask, my voice tinged with uncertainty as I find myself involuntarily clutching onto his arm.The bustling crowd around us pays no attention to our covert corner, immersed in their own revelries. Lost in the night and in ea
The mansion gradually fades from view as we ride farther away, the distance providing a semblance of privacy. Eventually, we slow our pace, trotting side by side along the path."Why do the Trials happen?" I finally voice the question that has been gnawing at me to Rhaenan.He remains silent for a while, as if weighing his words carefully. Eventually, he lets out a sigh, shoulders sagging slightly. "There's no need for secrecy anymore, especially since... well, you know," he says, his gaze briefly flickering to me before returning to the path ahead."Just tell me everything," I implore. "Please. I deserve to know, at least before I face whatever awaits me in that cave."Rhaenan nods, his expression distant, as if lost in his thoughts. For a moment, I think he's going to get all emotional, but he maintains his composure. He's a Fae, after all—ice runs through his veins. Over the past two weeks, I've grown fond of Rhaenan, and I believe the feeling is mutual. I can't help but wonder how
With a trembling hand, I raised my bow, eyes locked on the approaching Algoth. Despite the tremors coursing through me, I fought to maintain my composure, arrow poised to strike. The atmosphere around me grew tense, each spectator holding their breath in anticipation.As the Algoth drew nearer, I steadied my aim, heart pounding in my chest. With a swift release, I let the arrow loose, the projectile hurtling toward the creature's heart. Yet, just as it seemed destined to find its mark, the Algoth veered upward, narrowly avoiding the strike. This one was cunning, far more so than its forest kin.Inhaling sharply, I swiftly nocked another arrow, determination fueling my actions. Taking position against the iron bars, I knelt, ready to take aim once more. The crowd erupted into cheers and shouts, their voices echoing through the stadium, urging me on.As I faced the relentless onslaught of the Algoth, it dawned on me that to the spectators, I was nothing more than entertainment—a mere pa
I awoke to the eerie symphony of water dripping onto cold stone, its rhythmic cadence echoing through the dimly lit cell. The torchlight flickered weakly in the corner, casting dancing shadows on the damp walls. Struggling to orient myself, I noticed a stretcher nearby, a silent witness to my arrival, undoubtedly carried in by unseen hands and abandoned on the unforgiving floor. Every inch of my body throbbed with pain, a reminder of the harrowing encounter with the Algoth. As I gingerly shifted to my side, agony surged through my ribs, a sharp, relentless torment that threatened to overwhelm me. Gritting my teeth, I pressed a trembling hand to my injured side, feeling the jagged edges of broken bone beneath my skin. Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to succumb to despair. Amidst the stench of blood, sweat, and dirt that hung heavy in the air, hunger gnawed at my stomach, yet hunger was the least of my worries in this bleak confinement.Trapped in the windowless confines of my
The eerie echo of keys rattling in the distance Sends a chill coursing through my body, and I instinctively press myself against the cold, damp wall of the cave. Time seems to crawl at a sluggish pace, stretching out like an endless abyss. It could be hours or mere minutes since I was thrown into this dark, desolate cell, but every passing moment feels like an eternity.With a heavy sigh, I slump down against the unforgiving stone floor, my back protesting against the uncomfortable position. My gaze flickers to the entrance of my cell, scanning it with cautious apprehension. The faint glimmer of torchlight dances along the corridor, casting eerie shadows that seem to shift and writhe with a life of their own.As the footsteps draw closer, accompanied by the ominous clanging of metal against metal, my heart rate quickens, anticipation coiling in the pit of my stomach like a slumbering serpent. The sound halts abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.I run a trembling hand thr
Blood pooled around the speared barricade as I turned, and the unfortunate victim trapped beneath it was a night-shaded pixie with fiery orange hair. His outstretched hands seemed to plead for help in his final moments.Tears streaked down my cheeks as I struggled to my feet. An elven guard approached, pulling Asterin away from me, and I reluctantly released her.Turning to Feathers, I glared at him through tear-stained eyes. "That pixie didn't deserve to die because of your twisted games," I spat, my voice thick with emotion."We have laws here. He broke one, so he was punished. If you have any complaints, take them up with the High Lord," Feathers retorted dismissively, his tone cold and indifferent.I shifted my gaze to the balcony, where Valen stood with his usual stoic expression. He seemed unaffected by the tragedy unfolding below. It was a cruel punishment, and his indifference only fueled my anger.With a graceful yet tense motion, he rises from his seat. "Well done, Maerwyn
I can't shake off the haunting memory of the pixie's final moments, the sound of his last cry for help echoing in my mind, and the sight of his blood staining the arena floor. My hands rub together instinctively, as if trying to cleanse the imagined stain from my consciousness.Night after night, I'm plagued by nightmares, where the looming figure of the Algoth draws closer, its monstrous form casting a shadow over me. In my dreams, my hands are bound like the pixie, rendering me powerless as it inches closer, its claws poised to strike at my heart. Each time, I'm abruptly awakened by the terror of the moment, my heart racing with fear.Curling up on the cold, damp floor of my cell, I try to steady my breathing, the remnants of dried tears clinging to my cheeks, a silent cry to the turmoil raging within me.My gaze fixates on the scroll bestowed upon me by Valen. It holds the key to my freedom, the final trial separating me from returning home to Ferngrove. "I am the bridge between
"I am the bridge between two souls..."" Hold the weight of fear and hope..."" Yet fragile..."My fingers grasp the scroll tightly, shadows dancing across the parchment in the flickering torchlight as I strain to decipher the written words. Hours pass, yet I'm still no closer to finding an answer, my mind spinning with countless possibilities.Could the bridge mentioned in the riddle be the barrier? It does separate two worlds from colliding—Kyante's domain and Lyria, along with the rest of our realm. It holds the weight of hope for Lyria's citizens and the dread of facing a demonic army.But "fragile"? How does that fit? Something forged with such immense power couldn't possibly be described as fragile. I'm puzzled by this contradiction, uncertain of how the barrier fits the description of fragility.With a sigh, I unfurl the scroll and read the riddle once more, hoping to glean some new insight.I am the bridge between two souls,In me, secrets find their goals.I hold the weight o