Page 114 of The Shattered Rite
His grin returned the moment he stepped inside. His coat was immaculate, cuffs embroidered, hair slicked back with absurd confidence.
Whitvale didn’t rush.
He walked the first half, taking careful, calculated steps. When a bridge began to retract, he casually leaped across to the next one with graceful ease.
Everything about him was practiced, polished, too smooth.
He didn’t just conquer the obstacles. He’d mastered the arena without breaking a sweat.
At the final stretch, he threw a glance up at Eliryn, winked, and vanished into a blur as the platform raised him upward.
Vaeronth stirred in her mind.
That one is filled to the teeth with venom.
She didn’t need to answer him back; Vaeronth already knew her opinion of Whitvale.
The fifth chosen stepped in next. The gentle-faced boy with copper hair from Westbrae. He gripped a short dagger with white knuckles. He was small. Fast. But afraid.
From above, Eliryn saw Whitvale reappear at the edge of the upper balcony where she waited.
“You’re doing great!” he called to the boy below. “But mind the spinning blades—they switch direction after the third pass!”
Wait…Eliryn thought for a moment.That wasn’t true.
Eliryn had counted and was almost sure they only switched after the fifth.
The boy, trusting, misjudged the pattern based on Whitvale's word. He turned early and a blade caught him square in the gut. He dropped, screaming, trying to crawl while holding his organs inside him, but the floor opened beneath him, swallowing him whole while he was still alive.
Whitvale sighed loudly and said to no one in particular, “He should’ve listened.”
Eliryn’s teeth clenched.
The sixth and final person to enter the arena was Garic.
He stood at the starting line, broad and still, arms flexed in readiness.
He didn’t look up at Eliryn or Whitvale, not knowing they were there. He just stood a moment, taking it all in, and breathed deeply.
Then he ran.
Eliryn noticed immediately when Whitvale leaned over the balcony. “The ledge after the climbing beams is cracked!” he called. “You’ll need to jump right instead of forward!”
Eliryn stepped forward without hesitation this time.
"He's lying," she said, voice flat and deadly calm. "Don't trust the snake."
Garic slowed. Looked up.
“Jump forward,” she called, loud and clear. “Straight forward. The crack only shows if you step to the right.”
Whitvale’s smile curdled.
Garic's head tilted up, eyes finding hers.
He trusted her. No hesitation.
He adjusted course.
