Page 28 of A Broken Ember

As I approached the thrones, the prince refused to meet my eye, but Odon glared at me openly. Slowly, I lowered myself to my knees before them, maintaining eye contact with De Vita. He lifted his lip, bearing his teeth in a warning. It took everything in me not to reciprocate the gesture.

“Welcome, my children. Today is the second traditional trial the Selected will partake in to Prune the weak before Anastasius is presented with his Chosen. Where there were once four: Oriana, Janus, Aurora, and Eleos, now there are three,” Odon bellowed. Cheers echoed from the crowd. I wasn’t deluded to think any of them were for me.

“The Selected have shown that they are strong. The second trial will test not just their strength, but their wit. Those who have a balance of both virtues will be declared the winners. The goal is to demonstrate your superior strength and knowledge. I trust the three of you have chosen a question and an answer to give to my son. Janus, please provide your riddle and answer.” Janus stood and approached the thrones, no sign of weakness present from the arrow which had pierced her shoulder a moon turn ago. From a pocket she produced one of those thin sheets of bark. On it were symbols I didn’t understand. My eyes flew wide open, my heart in my throat. I only knew of one riddle.

Odon and Anastasius studied the thin offering before setting it aside. “Oriana, Eleos, choose your weapon and prepare to fight.” Odon gestured to the side where Hariasa and Calian stood behind a table of weapons. I frowned, looking to the prince for clarification. He gave a small smile and a nod like we shared a secret. . I swallowed my worries and followed the redhead to choose a weapon. On the table I found an assortment of daggers, longswords, maces, lances, and axes. I instinctively grabbed a longsword. The length wasn’t like those of the Circulus, and the weight wasn’t balanced the same, but that was fine. I could adapt. Oriana chose a matching weapon with a wicked grin.

“Selected, please find your positions before the throne.” Anastasius opened his arms, which were lined with an assortment of scars. He wore them like teeth in a proud smile. .

Oriana weighed the sword between her palms, adjusting with ease before falling into a typical defensive stance. I matched her with one variation: I placed my weapon in the opposite hand, starting with the opposite side to throw her off. As Circulus, favoring one side or another wasn’t allowed. She raised a fine eyebrow, her hard features becoming impossibly colder as she sneered and matched my handwork. I smiled at her. Revealing to an opponent that you could use either hand was a mistake. Right now, she may assume I relied on my left hand. During a fight, any assumption could be deadly.

“When each of you has given a final answer to the riddle, you will stop the fight. Until then, presume you are to fight to the Saving,” Odon said cryptically. There was no time to question him. He waved a hand at us. “You may begin.”

Oriana immediately began to circle me, and I carefully eyed her every movement, matching her like an echo. She watched me as a predator would its prey. Thank the gods of the De Vita my wounds had mostly healed. My hands no longer burned just grasping the weapon. Still, I saw her eye them, looking to use the weakness. She wouldn’t get the chance.

There was silence, a bated breath. The prince stood, drawing my eye. A mistake. Oriana attacked. She lunged low, the sword following her line of sight. I quickly dashed to the side, narrowly avoiding being impaled on her weapon. Whirling on my toes, I counterattacked, slashing at her outstretched arm. It made contact, tearing through her white sleeve and staining it red. It was too easy. She hissed, eyes livid. I smirked at her, and she spat. In the Circulus, drawing blood meant the completion of our Circle. We didn’t try to avoid it. Instead, we relentlessly sought to exterminate those who bled from the nick of a blade. Now, after centuries of Pruning, we were resilient to simple things such as scratches.

“The riddle is this: One has unseen power while the other one has muscles. One has wealth while the other is wealthy. One has unlimited resources, and the other has one and with it them all. One hunts the secrets of the other land while the other is blind. So what creates the difference between De Vita and Circulus?” Anastasius spoke the riddle as Oriana pursued me steadily across the floor. Her attacks were relentless, and it took all my attention just to evade her.

What was the difference between the two clans? The obvious answer was our beliefs. De Vita hoarded life and disrespected death. But that couldn’t be the answer. I feared the solution was the answer I had been sent to find. I thought back to all the odd happenings since I had arrived: Anastasius disappearing and appearing, the dancing fingers, the symbols inked onto oddly shaped leaves. The Circulus had everything we could need within our rich territory, but De Vita had more despite their desolate land and lack of resources.

I ducked a swing aimed at my head, the weapon hissing above me. I struck low. Missed. Oriana danced away from reach.

“Got an answer yet, traitor? I could do this all day!” she exclaimed, feigning a yawn. I growled at her and lunged, she parried my thrust, pushing me off of her.

I performed the dance of thrusting, parrying, and countering over and over. All the while I contemplated the riddle. The answer seemed too easy—power, one that I couldn’t put words to or begin to comprehend. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the crowd raptly watching every move. If they hoped Oriana would cut me down, they would be sorely disappointed. She managed to strike my flesh a couple of times, but each time my body refused to surrender its blood to her blade, causing her to stamp her feet and huff. I snorted. Our blades met with a loud clash, locking us together. Oriana snarled at me, our heads close enough that I could feel her breath. My eyes flicked to the prince. He was watching with just as much interest as everyone else in the room. His words came to mind. Every test has a shortcut. A loophole. I smiled at Oriana, baring my teeth as my foot slammed down on top of hers. She jolted back, the pressure on my blade lessening enough for me to throw her off. As she stumbled back, I kicked behind her knees, making them give out.

The rest of the fight happened in a blur. Her grip on the longsword faltered enough that with a strong whack with my elbow it clattered to the side. Suddenly, my dagger was at her throat while she knelt before me.

“Got an answer yet, bitch? Cause I could do this all day, but I'm getting bored.” To emphasize the point, I drew a little blood. The Ruptor preened at finally being released from its forced submission. The red liquid spilled quickly. Easily. She swallowed, her eyes flaring with hatred. I gave her the smirk of the Ruptor who had found his enemy’s weakness.

“Bastard,” she said, her eyes livid. I pressed the blade a little harder, reminding her of my power and showing her that I knew. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to reveal the answer first, but I was faster.

“The answer is magic,” I announced.

I smirked and withdrew my blade, turning my back on my opponent. “My answer is also magic,” Oriana hissed. Murmuring erupted from the crowd as I returned my bloodied weapon to Hariasa and Calian. The red stain that marked the edge of the blade pleased me. I turned toward Anastasius for further instructions. A ghost of a smile haunted his expression.

“You cannot allow this!” Oriana screeched above the clamor of the crowd. Odon held up a hand to silence her. She slammed her mouth shut and took a step back, mumbling something that sounded like an apology. The De Vita leader turned toward me.

“Eleos, please give your written riddle to my son,” Odon boomed, the gathered De Vita instantly quieting. I stared at Anastasius as I approached, my heart pounding faster than when I was fighting. My mind scrambled to comprehend the task requested of me—to provide a written riddle. I came up with nothing. I wouldn’t fake understanding and make a fool of myself. Instead, I brought myself to the prince’s feet and prayed for mercy.

Chapter 24: Anastasius

Claeg approached me, falling to his knees. It was bizarre, seeing him submit himself before me after the impressive display of power with the weapon. “My Prince, forgive me. I have no riddle written for you,” he admitted. I winced. That was my fault. I had asked my father what the next trial would be, and he and my mother had refused to answer, citing fairness. I should have pushed him harder, or tried to find out another way. Through my mother, perhaps—if Odon had even told her anything. Guilt gnawed at my insides. Still, the pounding in my ears from the excitement of watching him fight was deafening. Low chuckles sounded from the clan before me. I expected Oriana to shriek again, but she wisely held her tongue.

“Very well. Do you have a riddle in mind?” He nodded. “Come. We shall find somewhere private where you can relay it to me.” My emotions ran wild. I didn’t know what to think of everything that had happened over the last week. All I knew was that Claeg had to win the Selection. I wanted him. The thought scared me. What if he got hurt because I wasn’t ready to stand up to Odon? My father was intent on seeing him Saved. I couldn’t let that happen.

We walked out of the throne room and down the hall a few steps before I turned on him. His bright eyes were narrowed with confusion. “What—”

“You are playing a dangerous game, Eleos.”

He snorted. “I didn’t choose to play.”

I winced. He was right: I’d put him in this position when I Selected him. I had done it to protect him, but also for selfish reasons. I wanted him.

“You’re breaking the rules.” I folded my arms across my chest. We didn’t have much time; we should really be discussing his riddle, but I couldn’t help giving him a warning. “My father will not be pleased.”

Claeg ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “You think I care about my enemies' rules?”

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