Page 100 of Oracle of Ruin

A second girl follows closely, her dark hair braided in a crown atop her head. She huffs and falls behind quickly, a young boy having to prop her up. Her leg is still bruised and her skin far too pale, but by gods, the sunlight feels divine and she is not going to stay locked in that infirmary any longer.

The healers took most of the pain away, but she still needed to stay in the med hub for two weeks, even with their expertise and powers. But Tanja begged, and she, Blaine, and another boy named Torin convinced her nanny to allow Vera out for just an hour. They stole jelly tarts from the kitchen and tied them into a bedsheet that was now sticky and stained.

The children disappear around a corner and I watch them until my eyes strain and blur.

“Why?” I croak. Emotion doesn’t lace my voice. It smothers it. It has me swaying on my feet, and I feel myself longing to follow, even as I stay rooted to the spot.

The Oracle watches curiously. Their power numbs some of the pain, carries it away on a dark wind. They speak slowly after a long pause and Vestíg ceases his purring. “I wanted to give you one good memory before we begin.”

I swallow thickly, the laughter now an empty hollow behind my eyes.

“I wanted to remind you, and give you a chance to remember.”

To remember the light. The words don’t fall from their tongue, but I hear them all the same. In some ways, Derrín and Rowan were right, but in others, they were wrong.The dark cannot smother that which is light.The dark magic didn’t kill the light in me, but it did repress it. The one who has been killing it was me all along. In smothering Tanja, in trying to forget her and blame myself because the pain was just too much. Because the truth was far more worse than a half-believed lie.

The thought forces me to my knees and a gasping breath from my lips. Death is so sickeningly final. And a part of me thought that if I bottled all my rage and grief, it could delay the inevitable. I feared that if I opened that part of my heart, I would have to come to terms with what I wasn’t able to face yet—the fact that no amount of tears or revenge can bring her back. That no matter how many men I kill or in turn people I save, she will still be gone. And I will be here, left with nothing but a memory.

Tanja is gone.

But the light is not dead. It cannot be killed, not so long as I live and as she lives in me.

“Ah, so not all hope is lost.” The Oracle smiles, a nearly toothless grin, save for one remaining canine. “Good. We start now.”

Before I have the chance to question it or even pick up the pieces of my heart that just shattered on the earth, a weight slams into my back. I spin on instinct, flipping to face the threat. A shadow-clad beast snaps its fangs at my throat.

It has fangs, I note. And a body. A body can be destroyed, where shadow cannot. It rears back for only a moment, but I only need that singular moment to tuck my knees into my chest then kick it with both legs when it comes down again. The beast skitters to a stop a few feet away and I take the moment to look up at the Oracle.

The gloriously green and sunlit meadow outside the palace has been replaced with marble columns and stone seats. The Oracle and Vestíg sit atop the dais while I stare up at them from the center of the royal colosseum. Vestíg does not deign to show his face, but his shadows take on a more humanoid form now, even as they shift and slither about.

“I thought you were supposed to teach me!” I call up to the dais, fury wrought anew.

“I believe in learning on the job.”

Duck, a deep voice in my mind commands.

The Oracle swats at Vestíg for “cheating,” but I do as he says. The air whips my face as a second shadow beast tears its claws through the space I previously occupied, just narrowly missing my throat.

“Your rage is blinding you.” The Oracle sounds… bored. Or disappointed. Maybe a mix of both.

A low growl of frustration rises in my throat. I prepare to bark out a snarky response when I feel pain ripple through my lower back. A third monster’s claws rip through close enough to my spine to be worrisome. This simulation that the Oracle has created allows my previous wounds to be healed for the time being, but the newer wounds still hurt and bleed the same. From the corner of my eye, I spot a fourth beast appear, then a fifth and a sixth.

Then a dark presence overcomes my senses. Not smothering, but protecting.

The Oracle whines in complaint, but Vestíg pays them no mind.

Focus. Rage is not a weapon. It steals your energy, but like all energies, it can be manipulated.

I take a deep breath and when I exhale, the darkness is gone and I am surrounded now by seven shadow monsters. I shoot the Oracle a dirty glare.

They shrug, as much of a response as they will deign to give me.

Focus. Right.

The ground rumbles with each step, the ground shifting until I can feel it deeper in my bones the closer the monster gets. The air shifts slightly to make room for the space now occupied, and the wind sings through the talons as one of those clawed hands encroaches.

I spin on my heel and it misses, not by luck.

Each step is in sync with the world around me. The wind shifts as I dance to the side. One monster surges while I avoid another. Just like how it was back in the training arena with Torin and the guards. They were easier as I knew their patterns and their training, but even shadow beasts have patterns. Kijova have patterns. In a few moments, it is easy to pick them up and avoid then offer a counterattack.

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