Page 45 of A Broken Ember

“We are healing them, of course,” Thyia answered. I glanced at her; she’d failed to address my second query. Her face scrunched as she considered me for a moment. She chose her next words carefully. “De Vita has many things to consider when making decisions. Things I can’t possibly begin to understand. One day, you will know.” Hope that she would support me as De Vita stirred in me.

“And if that day came sooner than expected?” She placed a hand on mine, her eyes softening.

“Then I would be proud to have supported such a brave soul.” She smiled, her eyes reading mine as if she could see my plan already. “Go rest, young De Vita. I shall disperse the tonics.” She waved me off. I nodded, standing from my perch. I knew better than to fight her, so I left the infirmary, but I had no intention of resting. I would check in on Claeg and then find Rohit and Ercan. We had much to discuss.

Chapter 47: Claeg

They knew.

Odon knew about the Ruptor.

My stomach twisted into knots over and over.

Calian dragged me out of the stronghold and tossed me to the ground. Wounds protested all over my body, but I ignored them. A draconis shifted next to me, and suddenly he scooped me up in sharp talons. Pain sliced into me from all sides as my blood spilled over the talons—the only weapon sharp enough to tear through me with a simple touch. I gritted my teeth. I wouldn’t allow the pain to control me as it had before. Pain wasn't a weakness. It was a forge, creating a creature of resilience. His claws created a cage for me while he flew hard and fast, bringing me to the plateau before I could shift. When he dropped me unceremoniously, I landed hard, choking on the overwhelmingly spiced air. Above me, thousands of De Vita draconis flew in their true form. It was meant to be a show of dominance, but I didn’t fear De Vita.

My eyes tilted up, looking at the figures which loomed over me. Odon. Oriana. Calian. They sneered at me. My heart hammered relentlessly, filling my blood with dread.

“What is this?” I spat. Odon gave me a smile that promised pain. I tasted foul carrion.

“Up, traitor; it’s time,” Calian growled, kicking my side. The burn there shrieked with pain, but I just glared at him and pushed myself to my feet.

“De Vita, today we have gathered for the final trial for the Selected.” Odon paused, letting reality sink in. The trial wasn’t supposed to happen yet. It hadn’t been a full moon turn. “We have two who will compete to be Chosen for Anastasius. This is the final test. Oriana has volunteered to let you go first. Your trial is simple: a Circulus must be Saved. It’s time for you to finish what you started and prove where your loyalty lies.” I frowned, unsure what he meant. I didn’t wonder for long. He turned to the side, revealing Hariasa with a sinister smile. She wasn’t alone. My stomach fell. Ercan was at her side. His eyes were black and swollen, his face nearly unrecognizable. In a flash of movement, Hariasa knocked him to his knees. Ercan wheezed, wincing. My stomach heaved. They wanted to take his broken wings. They wanted me to do it—I knew it in my bones. “You have until the sun reaches its peak,” Odon addressed me. The sun was nearly there, giving me only moments to decide what to do.

“Claeg.” Ercan acknowledged me, not a hint of fear in him. I growled low, taking a step toward him. He didn’t cower like he did last time. No, this time he met my eyes and held them, refusing to beg for his life. I loomed above his kneeling form. He doesn’t even have a Circle to complete. Just finish the traitor, I could practically hear Clotho encourage me. I swallowed the lump in my throat. No, protect. Ercan wasn’t weak for being a victim—my victim. I hadn’t destroyed him before, rather forged a new creature. He was stronger now, but taking his wings... He just watched me, resigned to his fate. I glanced around me at the curious faces of De Vita, but Anastasius wasn’t among them. I looked to the sky, but there were too many draconis to identify him among them.

“Ask me to shift, Ruptor,” Ercan said softly. Hearing my title made me flinch. It made me death, not mercy. I couldn’t do it. The Ruptor in me no longer purred at the idea of exacting its power over Ercan again. It just wanted to protect him. He was my responsibility. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t, be the reason he lost his wings.

My fists balled, and I let out a slow breath. I would fight until my Circle was completed, even then never stopping. I knew the truth now. I wasn’t taking a side. I didn’t stand for Circulus or De Vita. I wanted what Anastasius did—peace. And I would pay for it in blood, but not his.

“No,” I finally whispered, turning toward Odon. “You want to Save a Circulus, correct?” Odon nodded, and his pupils dilated, sensing my intentions. I took a few steps back, giving myself room before unsheathing my draconis.

Chaopter 48: Anastasius

I returned to my corridor, stifling a yawn. “Eleos, I’m sor—” I began but quickly slammed my mouth shut upon seeing Rohit. I startled, wincing at the bruised and swollen mess of my friend’s face. “Ro, what are you doing here?” My eyes trailed past him to the empty bed. I wanted to ask about my Selected but forced the more pressing matter off my tongue first. “Are you okay?” My friend grimaced, his face twisting into what might have been a look of worry, but I couldn’t tell.

“I’ve been sent to collect you,” Rohit began, his words throaty and fearful. My heart plummeted and began to race low in my chest. Dread curled around my spine. “Oriana knows who Claeg is,” he whispered. Alarm rammed into me, making me tremble. Father would not be merciful to the Ruptor of the Circulus. You’re too late, I berated myself.

“Where is he?” I forced myself to ask. Somehow, my friend’s purple face drained of its bright color, becoming sickly pale. My insides knotted themselves tightly around and around.

“The final trial has begun, Stas.”

Fuck. Fuck. My plans were falling apart around me, crashing with resounding booms powerful enough to take down the mesa. I cursed.

“Where?” I bit out, running my hands through my hair as I paced the room.

“The plateau.”

I didn’t hesitate, darting to my balcony and shifting in one fluid movement. Launching into the air, I had only one thought in mind: get to Claeg. The sound of Rohit following me was a comfort, but it did little to calm my nerves as I saw the De Vita flying above me. The trial had started. I could tell by the frenzy the draconis were swarming in. It was unlike our prophetic dance on the Day of Breath. This flight wasn’t in sync—many wings smacked together, and draconis roared in protest. It would have been amusing to see the discoordination if not for the agony and dread pulling me.

My wings beat harder, bringing me above the mesa. I rapidly scanned the plateau, instantly finding Claeg . My Selected had unveiled his beautiful draconis, but he was eerily still—a prisoner in his own body. Magic. A panicked roar rippled from my jaws, but it was lost in the fray. I knew what this was, the Saving. This wasn’t a trial, it was a massacre! Did Claeg know what they were going to do to him? Calian’s eyes were gleeful with excitement and Father smiled smugly at Claeg. Triumphant. My heart raced ahead of me, urging me to fly faster.

By Calian’s side, Ercan was on his knees, body beaten and bloody. He trembled and wretched, his pleas reaching my ears.

“Please! Spare my son. Take my wings, De Vita. Please.” My stomach churned, sour bile rising in my throat. I urged myself faster, knocking many swarming bodies aside.

When I was nearly above them, I fell through the sky, landing between the frozen form of my Selected and my father. The surroundings faintly tickled the edges of my awareness: Ercan sobbing on his knees; Rohit at my back, a constant, reassuring presence; my clan above and around me, watching curiously. And then there was Claeg—Eleos, frozen in a cage of magic. My heart thudded loudly in my ears.

I snarled at Odon, bearing my teeth at him. A slow, sly grin spread across his face. I could take him now, crush him between my jaws in an instant. It would be so easy, but the Challenge had to occur first. I shifted, letting my teeth and claws retract physically.

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