Moirai

The next day passed mainly the same way, with both morning and afternoon lessons. Except, for the latter, Mayran insisted we focus on my aura.

At first I was hesitant, but reminded myself that I was (mostly) over my fear. Mayran set me simple tasks designed to get me adapted to using my aura more reflexively, because it was obvious that in battle I couldn’t afford a few minutes prior to doing something as was the case when I healed Loni.

I surprised myself because it took me less time than expected to get the hang of some of the tasks quickly. It helped that, since yesterday, I could constantly feel the warm thrum of my aura inside me. That fact made it easier to draw upon; at one stage, Mayran threw a small stick at me and I was able to stop it before it hit my face without lifting a finger.

By the afternoon, I was feeling more confident about the Trials…but the nerves had by no means gone away. Doubtful thoughts continued to plague me, made worse, I thought, because I was extremely tired. Mayran, noticing this, cut our afternoon lesson short and told me – or rather, ordered me – to rest well. I promised that I would try. Despite my anxiety, I hoped sleep would come easilyy tonight.

I told Mayran to go on ahead and lay down with my head against an old tree stump. I was only hoping to calm my racing mind for a few minutes, but I soon found myself dropping off.

A sharp burst of pain from my hand roused me. For a split second I thought I had been bitten by some sort of bug, but I quickly realised that someone had deliberately stepped on my hand.

I didn’t need a degree to guess who it was, even though they stood above me in a ray of sunlight and so were almost silhouetted. It was the first time I had seen him since our arrival – I had a feeling he was avoiding me – and if I had been expecting him to look tired from days of training as I did, I was sorely mistaken.

If anything, Centurion’s eyes glistened with more malice and there wasn’t even the tiniest shadow under his eyes.

“Having a nap, are we?” he hissed, bending down and leering at me. “I would’ve thought you would be training every hour of the day to even have a hope of winning tomorrow. But then again, you’re the ‘hero of the prophecy’, aren’t you? You probably don’t need any training.” His voice couldn’t get more sarcastic if he tried. I resisted the urge to try out my auraic reflexes in real life and take his feet out from under him.

“Go away, Centurion. You’re not going to make me chicken out by taunting me. Or is it that you are worried, and you feel you need to put me off?” I remarked, making my own voice sound dry and firm, while trying to hide the pain my hand was still in.

He scoffed, although something about his expression made me wonder if I had struck a chord…he couldn’t possibly be concerned…could he?

He increased the weight on my hand, leaning further down, and a gasp escaped my lips. I glared at him.

“Get. Off.” I growled.

“You will lose tomorrow.” He whispered. “Mark my words.”

“Consider them marked.” I snapped. “Now get off my hand!”

He chuckled darkly and did so, stalking back off into the forest. I cradled my purpling hand and hoped there were no broken bones. It didn’t feel like it, but I healed myself just in case.

As I walked back towards our cottages, in between cursing Centurion with words that my mother would have told me off for saying, I marvelled at how simply I used my aura now that I had come to accept it. So much can change in so little time.

My theory about sleep was proved partially true; my exhaustion meant that I was unconscious only a few minutes after lying down, but as soon as my eyes closed…I began dreaming.

At first, it was similar to my dream two nights previously; Indina’s cruel laughter that seemed to come from all directions, even above. Then suddenly, she stood in front of me, an evilly amused glint in her red eyes.

“So, the Trial is tomorrow, hm?” her whispered words washed over me like icy breaths of wind. “I must say I don’t understand why you desire to waste your time on such a trivial event, when I await you oh-so impatiently only days’ travel away.”

I tried to speak, to tell her that I had to compete in the Trial in order to leave Flowerage, but words failed me. My chest felt tight with an intense fear; though her words weren’t threatening, the very thought of who she was and the things that she had done filled me with dread.

She tutted softly at my lack of response. “I know I am royalty, girl, but that does not mean that you need to hold your tongue so.”

“How do you know about the Trial?” I managed to ask. As it had during the dream in Okanto, my voice sounded weak compared to hers.

She laughed again, although this time it was had a more sinister rather than mocking tone. “Let’s just leave it at…I have my ways.”

My mind instantly thought Spy! But surely the Praesul would know? And then I asked myself a scarier question; when had I started believing that my dreams of Indina were actually real?

She grinned evilly at me as though she knew the chilling thought that I had just had. Then without saying anything else, she vanished, leaving me standing in a world of blackness…

When I opened my eyes, it was past dawn: the sun shone its golden rays through the windows, turning the wooden floor amber and illuminating the hundreds of specks of dust that floated around the room.

Instantly I knew I wouldn’t be getting any more sleep. It was only a couple of hours until the trial began anyway. The thought added to my already anxious nerves. My stomach felt incredibly tight, both from the dream and from the coming ordeal.

I had no idea how Indina knew about the Trial. It would have been foolish to continue thinking they were just dreams. It meant she had to either have a spy somewhere in Flowerage, as I’d thought…or her dreams were her somehow reading my mind.

I felt shivers of cold run down my spine and turned my attention elsewhere. The dust particles swirled in a tiny breath of wind. I could relate to them. I also felt caught up in the tide against my will. Three weeks ago I was a normal teenager glad that the school year was ending. Now…I was the mystery figure of a great prophecy in a world inside a book, and I was about to go and cross wits and arms with a Dryad who was the leader of the Defendors.

I almost felt like bursting into tears at the absurdity of it all, and briefly wondered if I had indeed gone mad and this was all just a figment of my imagination. For a moment, I distracted myself by imagining waking up suddenly in a hospital and being told that I had been in a coma.

But as far as I could tell, the nervous lump in my throat and the sword lying by the bed, which just then felt like nothing more than a twig, were definitely real.

I felt an overwhelming need to escape the small room, even if it was just for an hour or two.

A surprising number of Dryads were around considering the early hour – I couldn’t work out an exact time as there were no clocks in Renenta – and all of them looked at me as I walked past. They didn’t turn and whisper to each other, but their stares full of contempt, awe or a mixture of both were worse.

Once I exited the main part of the city and headed into the forest, I wondered if I should just run away. If I could get back to Nerome, maybe somehow I could return to the outside world and forget about everything here.

But I knew I couldn’t. I hadn’t asked to be the one in Kasanda’s prophecy, I hadn’t asked for Centurion to hate me on sight, but those things had occurred and now I just had to deal with it the only way I knew how; by not giving up.

The walk lessened the knot in my stomach somewhat, and by the time I made it back to the cottage I was feeling a lot less lost, even if the dream still bothered me.

Pushing the door open, I was surprised to find Mayran standing inside, as though he had just come looking for me. I was just about to ask how he had gotten in when I remembered that Dryads didn’t have locks on their doors.

He looked up as I entered, an odd expression on his face. Anticipation and…something else.

“Morning, Mayran.” I said, shutting the door behind me. I knew why he was there.

“Morning.” He replied stiffly and I got the distinct impression that he was just as worried about today as I was, and was poorly hiding it. Then a different way of looking at it presented itself to me; he wasn’t worried about today, he was worried about me today. He took a deep breath and swallowed, as though about to deliver incredibly bad news. “It’s time.”

I copied his breath and nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The brief respite granted to me by my walk was gone, and now I was feeling rather ill. Mayran gave me an understanding look and reached out. Before he could grab my hand, the door behind us opened once again.

“Alnya, they’re…” Loni trailed off. She came and stood next to me, and did what Mayran had intended to do, taking my hand in hers. Her hand was slightly smaller than mine, but its warmth loosened the tension in my shoulders.

“Thank you.” I whispered.

“You’ll be fine.” She insisted.

Together we stepped out of the cottage, Mayran shadowing us behind. I could feel the waves of his worry hit me and they only added to my own.

A large crowd of Dryads stood surrounding a circular area about thirty metres wide. They parted to let us through, and I saw that there was no grass on the ground. It reminded me slightly of the arenas the gladiators of Rome used to fight in. The image did little to help.

As I stepped beyond the throng of bodies, I barely even registered that Mayran and Loni didn’t follow; I had fallen into a sort of daze where the murmurings of the Dryads were muted and I felt quite numb. Kasanda, the Praesul, Centurion and an unfamiliar Dryad awaited in the centre of the circle. The Dryad was male and, though with most it was difficult to tell their ages, it was clear that this one was old enough to show it. His dark brown hair had several grey streaks and his eyes, though not lined, had the tired look of an elder.

Kasanda was trying to appear confidant as she met my gaze, but I could tell that, just as with Mayran and Loni, there was a degree of concern. The Praesul simultaneously looked at me and nodded, then faced forwards again. Centurion didn’t even try to hide his true emotions; sneering at me and scoffing.

I swallowed and stopped next to Centurion, refusing to look at him.

The Dryad who I didn’t know stepped forwards, looking between us. His voice was deep and warbled slightly; another mark of age. “Alnya of Nerome, Centurion of Flowerage challenged you to this Trial of Three upon your arrival into our city. Is this correct?”

Kasanda had told me that I would be subjected to a few obvious questions, so I kept my voice level, holding my hands together to hide the tremors.

“Yes.”

He turned back to the Dryad next to me, who at that moment I couldn’t decide whether I hated more than I feared. “Centurion, do you still wish to carry out the Trial?”

I didn’t even bother to hope that he would say ‘no’.

“Yes.” He drawled.

The Dryad nodded. “I am Latifurn, and I will be presiding over this Trial. For those who do not know, the Trial of Three is made up of three parts: a battle of wits, a battle of arms, and a battle of aura, in that order. Are there any questions from our two competitors before the Trial begins?”

Yes. I wanted to say. What happens if Centurion ignores the rules and kills me? But I knew that he would not. Kasanda had already explained the answer to that one. Plus, our swords would be guarded in a similar manner to when Mayran and I sparred, and the Praesul would be monitoring out auras and step in if something fatal was willed.

Latifurn nodded to Kasanda and the Praesul, who left the open area to stand at the front of the crowd.

“Let the Trial…begin!”