Page 50 of Of Withering Dreams
A tall, stout woman leered at me. Her hands tightened on the leather baldric across her chest, and her Draumr uniform strained at her shoulders as if she were ready to pounce. I refused to break away from her gaze and squinted my eyes. She sneered, flicking her wavy, sand-colored hair behind her and widening her stance. Ignoring her, I looked ahead.
Rhaegar leaned closer to me and rumbled, “Don’t mind Sebille. She is as spoiled as a rotted mirberry.” I nudged his biceps with my shoulder, giving him a small smile in response.
My focus wandered, thinking of what could come in the weeks ahead. I was terrified of being sent to the Stygian Murk, but after we’d learned about the extra food rations, there was no doubt I’d enter the competition. This was something I could do for our realm.
Something tangible.
Something useful.
A rustling and shifting of bodies broke through my thoughts. The crowd parted as Gavrel strode through, stepping over the flower petals. He looked at Kaden, and then his eyes skimmed over me, his eyes softening. In the next instant, his mouth buttoned together tightly as he pulled his attention away from me, scanning the crowd. He positioned himself next to the enormous trunk and looked into the distance, his face a mask of disinterest. I gritted my teeth, frustration bubbling in my belly.
A wisp of smoldering smoke twirled around the twisted trunk in front of us. The tree’s glittering aura stilled, its glow shrinking into shadowed crevices. The haze condensed before peeling away, and Melina appeared out of the billowy cloud. A collective gasp swept through the audience. Those farthest from the tree strained to see what was happening. Basking in the crowd’s attention, Melina lifted her chin, a feral grin creeping over her mouth.
Ryboas marched into the center, a dour expression on his face as he stopped next to Melina. Not one for theatrics like his peer, he proceeded. “Welcome, competitors. I commend those brave enough to make this blood promise,” he announced, reaching into an inner pocket of his robes and revealing a mesmerizing dagger.
The dagger’s blade was made of smoothly chiseled obsidian, the edges carved into a wavy pattern that gently tapered into a razor-sharp point. Its hilt was brilliant platinum with intricate swirling patterns etched into the liquid-like silver. Radiance reflected and sparked off its lustrous surfaces, making it appear to be a living creature with its own aura. The pommel was made of a large, faceted diamond. Each time a speck of light touched its clear edges, dazzling rainbows scattered in all directions.
Everyone’s eyes were glued to it.
Ryboas’ voice rang out as he held the dagger above his head and slowly walked around the trunk. “This dagger is the only one in existence and was forged long ago by the founding Elders as a gift to Morpheus. It is rumored that the Ancient had little use for it, so he infused it with supreme ember, making its blade stronger than steel and allowing it to bond with keepers over the centuries …” He paused, stroking the blade reverently.
He closed his eyes, frowning. “But alas, we can’t believe every fairytale we are told as children.” He sniffed, one corner of his mouth curling in disdain. “However, its lore makes it the perfect ceremonial blade. Let’s begin.” He turned to face the team to our left, waving the dagger toward them and then to the tree.
Sebille lifted her chin, breaking from her team and striding forward confidently. Her teammates followed: two male Draumrs and one male Druik. Ryboas poised the knife, its glossy blade glinting. His eyes pierced into each of theirs as he recited, “Your blood is your bond. Broken promises reap consequences. The Elysium Tree is rooted in our beginning and our end.”
The female guard held out her palm, and Elder Ash promptly swept the blade across her tender flesh. She squeezed her fingers into the pooling blood, dripping it onto the sacred roots below. The tree shivered as its roots drank it in. A shimmering wave of energy crept over its trunk as the crimson pool vanished. The rest of her team did the same before returning to their original position.
With each participant who made their vow, the crowd cheered. My knees were soft as my arm wrapped around Kaden’s back for support. He held me close, still and composed. The team to our right was almost finished as Ryboas sliced the last male Druik’s palm.
The man’s form trembled as he pulled his wounded hand toward his chest. His teammate placed a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. The man jerked his head frantically, clutching his limb for dear life as his ichor stained the fabric of his yellow tunic. His teammate mouthed something to him, digging his fingers into the man’s shoulder. Shaking, the Druik thrust his hand forward.
His face lost all color as he gulped and snapped his hand back, stepping away from the tree and his team. He cried, “I can’t!” It was too late, though. As if in slow motion, a drop of his blood had escaped, falling to the base of the tree with a splatter. It trickled down the bark like a scarlet tear before seeping into the wood.
The man’s face fell, his head shaking. “No! I didn’t?—”
Dazzling light burst through every crevice of the trunk; the exposed surface roots blindingly bright. Everyone covered their faces, the beams too intense to behold. My heart pounded, and the air was sucked from my lungs. The man shrieked, and I knew the chilling sound would never leave my memory. Then, all at once, the radiance was absorbed into the tree, and everyone stared, wide-eyed, at the scene before us.
All that was left of the Druik was a cloud of twinkling cinder in the shape of his form. As the glow of it dwindled, the dust gently fell to the moss. A flower-scented breeze brushed against my cheek, rustling my hair and carrying away the rest of the ash. I felt sick, deep within my very soul.
“The Elysium Tree has spoken. Is your team prepared to compete with only three?” Melina’s dulcet voice rang through the shocked silence as her hands clasped in front of her chest. It wasn’t a question. The three remaining competitors bobbed their heads, mouths hanging open. Silently, they went back to their designated spot. “Marvelous. Let’s get on with the final team. Ryboas?”
Breena turned to me, grasping my hand. She placed her other hand on Rhaegar’s shoulder. Looking at each of us, she whispered, “Last chance. Yay or nay?” Her tone was sincere, lines crinkling around her eyes. I knew she would be all right if any of us backed out. I tucked my lips between my teeth, lifting my chin and staring at the vivid canopy and swaying vines above.
Counting to five, I breathed in and out, my fingers flexing in time with my breaths. We needed to do this. For all the people we cared about at home.
“I’m in.”
“Same,” Kaden replied.
Rhaegar nodded, and a wide grin swept across Breena’s face. We moved to the center. Gavrel’s brow furrowed, his eyes closed and skin tight across his cheeks and jaw. Ryboas began his speech, but I was distracted as Melina licked her lips, leaning into the commander.
I clamped my molars together and looked at Ryboas as he finished, “… rooted in our beginning and our end.”
We all held our hands out simultaneously. Ryboas cut across our palms, marking us for certain misfortunes ahead. I grimaced at the sharp tinge of pain and stared at the ruby liquid pooling in my hand. Before I could change my mind, I pressed my fingertips into it, feeling it slip along my skin, staining it.
As our promises plummeted to the earth, energy zipped from my scar. Down through my legs, it melded into the ground as our blood sank into the moss. The buried roots glowed, pulsing and shining under the earth, inching toward me. My iridescent aura flared around me, nuzzling the blessed ember flickering beneath my feet. The tree’s power tingled through my limbs, dancing with mine. It felt welcoming. Eager to connect and share its secrets.
Kaden, Breena, and Rhaegar gathered closely behind me. I smiled, letting them know I was all right. My fingers, still wet with blood, uncurled. My hand stretched toward the tree, wanting to commune with it as if it were a long-lost friend. A twirling halo buzzed along my skin as the tree’s energy shimmered around my body in a radiant embrace.
