Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Ah, the beasts. Yes. They were problematic.
They never attacked, always careful to avoid officiates. But they stalked us, which wasn’t fun. As if dealing with insects, poisonous reptiles, and damn snakes—which, yeah, I had an annoying fear of—weren’t bad enough.
I felt sorry for the beasts, though. The sight of these experimental creations plucked at my heart. They were so unnatural, so crazed, so unsuited to deal with the ‘extras’ they’d been given by the gods. Bears with snake scales. Eagles with rhino horns. Tigers with porcupine quills. The list went on and on. They most likely suffered from much pain, not to mention the trauma of any experiments they had endured. It seemed cruel.
I’d expected candidates to be pitted against each other during combat, but we never were. There was no point system either. No, we were all forced to endure the same nightmare together—or to quit. It was simple as that.
When we first began, there were sixty-seven candidates—myself included. But some had died—two were unable to digest the ichor, one had tumbled off a cliff, and another had drowned in a river. Others had quite simply reached their breaking point and dropped out. Two had actually tried coming back after a few days’ rest, but they were sent away.
As such, at this point, fifty-nine candidates remained.
It probably surprised the Sovereigns—who I hadn’t seen since my first day here—that I wasn’t among those who had either died or quit. I was a little shocked myself.
Another thing took me off-guard. It turned out that I did have some level of dormant power. Ever since I’d ingested the ichor, it was a constant presence under my flesh that seemed to purr slightly. At the same time, there was this budding feeling inside me. A sense of urgency. A restless anticipation. Like I was being called to do … something. Probably just to fully open to what was awakening within me.
It could all become background noise until other side-effects made themselves known. Sometimes, my skin would itch, my scalp would hurt, my bones would ache, and my blood would feel hot. According to Khalida, it was a normal part of my mind and cells adjusting to a power I might wield, providing the ichor bonded with my system. I wasn’t sure if that was possible for a human. And, yes, that uncertainty chewed at me.
The candidates were also all enduring the same private internal battle regarding their latent abilities. It was possibly worse for them, since they would have way more power inside them than I ever could harbor.
Nobody had yet made any demonstrations of power, but some were sure they soon would—I often heard them boasting about it. Most especially Seneca and Atticus.
“All right, you’re done,” announced Vesper, snapping me out of my thoughts.
My knees almost buckling with relief, I looked at her, seeing that she’d already gone right back to her book.
Stiff and shaky, I pulled on my clothes and left without a goodbye—rude, yes, but I was tired and she wasn’t one for pleasantries anyway.
I rounded the shack, meaning to head straight to the stables so that I could crash. I still slept there. No one complained, not even the stable hands. Nor did they move the pillow or blanket I’d hauled in there at one point. When Talon first saw them, he’d pinned me with a disapproving look.
I’d assured him, “I’m not going to start dragging furniture in here; I’m not under the impression that it’s my bedroom. Being cold and uncomfortable doesn’t make for the best night’s sleep, and I don’t get much of that as it is.”
With a short sigh, he’d shrugged and let it alone.
No matter what ungodly time I was woken, he would come to the tack room to check that I’d put everything to rights. The sight of him each morning always set my body up for the day. Sad, maybe, but I’d take whatever reprieve from the exhaustion that I could get.
Noticing Khalida and Quillen not too far away, I gave them a weak wave.
Pausing their walk, she called out, “How bad was it?”
“I don’t know how my legs are supporting my weight, I really don’t.” It felt like my kneecaps were done.
Shooting me a sympathetic smile, she waved me over. “Come on, head to the tavern with us. I’d say you could use a drink.”
I could, but … “I’m tired.”
Quillen snickered. “You’re not used to that yet?”
Actually, I was getting used to being permanently tired. And I wasn’t liking it much.
“Come on,” nagged Khalida. “Give yourself half an hour to chill. Your mind needs that just as much as it needs rest.”
I exhaled heavily, knowing that she was right. Winding down was another kind of rest. And if all I did was exhaust myself and then sleep without finding any methods of stress relief, the strains of Xalbia would get to me faster. “Okay, fine.”