Page 138 of Reign of Light
But blood and waters were not exchanged,
The question now, has fate rearranged?
To the same terms you must agree
For the isle of Dawnlin to hear your plea.
A fresh drop of blood must be obtained
To weigh whether intentions have been feigned.
If deemed worthy, the waters will flow,
And Dawnlin’s final answer,you will know.
Weston’s hand falls between us as I reach to my waistband and yank my dagger free. My feet have a mind of their own as I almost run across the chamber, climbing the steps and reaching the basin in barely a breath. I grip the curved lip of smooth stone and I peer inside, before pulling my eyes up to the dry spout above.
I have to know.
I have to know if all the suffering after the island denied me before was only because of Dane’s betrayal. Countless hours of self-doubt, questioning myself, my value, my morals, my motivations. Was I, Lennox Holt, worthy of saving her all along, but the magic used this one final stipulation as a last defense against the waters falling into the wrong hands? Was everything Weston and Sig did born of good intention, but unnecessary because no one would be granted it as long as Dane was trying to steal it?
If those waters flowed, every single Voyager and Castaway needed to be tracked down and given the chance to come back, because if it was all Dawnlin protecting itself, each of them could have their hope restored.
But if it wasn’t, if I truly am not worthy of saving my mother, then it all ends here, with this final drop of blood.
I raise my dagger, pressing the sharp edge into my now outstretched palm, but just as I am about break the skin, the boom of the voice startles me and I freeze once again.
The agreement unfair lest you’re reminded of terms
Your drop of blood wholeheartedly affirms.
Should you choose another course,
One term the magic must still enforce.
Unable to speak if your return is too late,
And your loved one has already met their fate.
If the waters are used and all terms are met,
All memory of Dawnlin youwill forget.
The sharp clatter of my blade falling into the basin echoes through the chamber, but I can barely hear it over the ringing in my ears. My fingertips tingle, the numbness spreading into my hands as they fall to the edge of the basin, gripping it so tightly that my fingernails break under the pressure. My head spins as my chest heaves, my breaths so harsh that the only thing keeping me upright is my grip on the stone.
Everything. I’d forget everything.
Flashes from the last time I stood at this basin come flooding back to me. The voice, the terms, the decision, the slicing of my palm. Nothing has changed. The bargain is the same as before, only this time, I have more to lose.
All memory of Dawnlin will cease to exist.
A sob rips through my chest, and I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle it. How stupid I was to think that forgetting Dane and the Voyagers would be difficult. Back then, I thought it was the most life-altering decision, but still was able to slice through my skin and live with the fact that I might not remember him.
This…this is excruciating. Impossible.
Hopeless.
My shoulders slump in defeat as my head hangs between them. Tears blur my vision, pooling swiftly until there’s nothing I can do to stop it. They fall, and the moment they strike the empty stone basin, it’s like my chest cleaves in two.
