Page 109 of The Shattered Rite
She waited.
And in the waiting, she began to gather herself. Not just strength, but certainty.
One breath. One anchor. One truth.
Eliryn of Lirin’s Edge.The Last Dragonrider.
Vaeronth, the Endbringer.
Half-blind. Half-lit.
But never broken.
The door at the far end groaned open.
Stone against stone, low and grating, a sound that cleaved the hush like a blade.
The steward stepped through, flanked by two guards in deep grey with faces obscured by mirrored helms. He moved without hurry, the bell at his wrist chiming once as he entered the room.
The chosen turned toward him, one by one. Fingers stilled on hilts. Even Garic straightened from his place near the wall, eyes narrowing as if bracing for something heavier than before.
Eliryn rose last. She could feel the world tilt slightly as she stood, her left eye offering only color and blur, a swirl of nothing that buzzed faintly at the edge of her concentration. But her spine stayed straight, and her hand curled once, steady, at her side.
The steward surveyed them with unreadable calm.
“Six remain,” he said, his voice carrying like wind across still water. “Six who passed through illusion and emerged intact.”
He let the words rest in the air for a beat. Then continued: “This third trial has showcased champions. But it has also culled even the most clever of chosen.”
Garic’s jaw flexed once. The youngest chosen, the boy, visibly swallowed.
The steward went on.
“You will not face this trial together. The path must be walked alone. One by one, you will enter. You will not see the others emerge. You will not know their fate until your own is decided. The next will not begin until the former has ended—by victory or by death.”
A ripple of unease moved through the gathered six. Eliryn felt it pass like wind through reeds.
The steward’s eyes swept across the chosen and stopped on Eliryn.
“Dragonrider,” the steward said. “You will be the first to face what lies beyond.”
Eliryn blinked once. “Wow. And here I was, just about to volunteer. Really took that opportunity from me.”
The silence that followed was heavy, but she let it hang. Someone—probably Garic since he was her only ally—let out a quiet snort from her right.
She felt their stares like weights across her shoulders: wary, curious, or maybe just quietly waiting to see if she'd fall.
The steward, to his credit, didn’t react. He only gestured smoothly toward the stone archway yawning open behind him. “Enter. Your fate awaits.”
Eliryn rolled her shoulders once, stretching the tension from her neck. “Not ominous at all. Love that.”
Then she stepped forward without hesitation, braid tight down her back, her steps quiet as breath. As she passed the steward, her voice dropped low, just for him.
“Next time, someone else goes first.”
Behind her, Garic’s quiet grunt of approval followed her to the threshold.
And then the stone door closed.
