by Kova, Elise
“We, no, I…I wanted to discuss the upcoming Trial of Five Kingdoms with you.”
Alyss had been right. Fritz had information. Tingling ran down Eira’s arms like a brisk winter wind, chasing away the warmth and bringing alertness. “Go on.”
“I’ll be making an announcement tomorrow morning with sign-ups starting for those interested in being a competitor in the tournament.” Fritz took a sip of his chocolate and Eira remained poised at the edge of her seat, hanging on his words. “I wanted to ask, would you be interested in signing up to be a competitor for Solaris?”
Eira glanced between her uncles. “I… It’s hard to make a decision right now, without all the information.” It wasn’t. Eira already knew her answer. Anything that got her closer to Meru, the elfin, and Lightspinning was something she wanted to do. “Would it be such a bad thing if I did?”
The silence was deafening. Moments like these were the rare times Eira hated the quiet she usually longed for. Fritz and Grahm exchanged a look.
“Well—”
“Fine, I won’t.” Eira finished the last of her cup in a large gulp. She already knew what they were going to say. She didn’t want to endure hearing it. “That’s settled.”
“Eira, we’re just looking out for your best interests,” Fritz tried to placate.
“So you tell me, but…” She now hated the warm chocolate in her stomach, radiating heat and a familial love she wanted to resent in that moment. “What are those ‘best interests’? You give me half the work of Marcus at best. I’m only ever in basic classes and workshops. I know you tell me to take my magic slow but I have been for years. I can do more.”
“We know,” Fritz said calmly.
“And then there’s Marcus being held back.” The words spilled out like chocolate from Fritz’s cup. “He’s still an apprentice when he should be an instructor—or gone from the Tower and out in the world working. If you’re keeping him here just to keep an eye on me then graduate him and give him a proper position in the Tower. He deserves at least that much.”
“Marcus’s status as an apprentice has nothing to do with you,” Grahm said.
“Really?” Eira arched her eyebrows.
“Yes, really.”
She didn’t believe it. Not for a moment. “Look, we all know that I wouldn’t be chosen as a competitor anyway.”
“Eira, that’s not—you see—” Fritz fumbled for words.
“It’s fine. I know I’m not up to par.” Eira set her cup down slowly and with fluid grace. It didn’t even clank against the saucer as she slid it onto the table. The water within her was slowly churning, hardening into ice, and grinding against her chest. It sent cold daggers prickling under her fingers and swirled in her mind like a blizzard. Cold, constant, protected. “But even if I wouldn’t be chosen, I would’ve loved to at least try out for a spot. The Mother knows you could have found a way to eliminate me anyway.”
“I thought you’d prefer I ask you not to sign up directly, rather than eliminate you behind your back.”
Eira pursed her lips. That was true, she supposed. “Well, now you have. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a long day in the clinic and I should go rest before classes tomorrow.”
“Eira…” Fritz said in that don’t be mad voice unique to him alone.
She halted at the sound. “Tell me one thing.”
“What is it?” Grahm was the one to ask.
“Is this request because of three years ago?” Eira looked them both in the eye. “You’ve told me this much; if it is, I want to know.”
Friz opened his mouth to speak.
Grahm cut him off. “Yes.”
The incident three years ago—her inescapable burden, the crime she could never expunge.
“I thought so. Excuse me, uncles.” Eira departed with a bow of her head.
It stayed bowed as she descended the Tower. Eira walked without direction, eyes on her feet, not paying attention to where they were carrying her. The light shifted as she crossed through a hallway, connecting the Tower to the palace.
…my father…
…how is he…
The whispers followed her throughout the back halls of the castle, snippets of conversations long gone. She paused, listening to a particularly chatty vase just outside the guard offices—some scandalous affair. But the voices were just whispers on the wind, gone almost as soon as she heard them. Eira pushed down her magic, silencing them once more.
“What do you need, sorcerer?” the man stationed at the entrance to the palace guard’s barracks questioned her.
“I’m here to see my aunt. Don’t mind me.”
He gave her a wary look, but let her pass. She’d come here enough that she was reluctantly welcome. Eira went up the main stairway and entered into a giant room. Beds were stacked in bunks, three tall. They were so close together that Eira could barely pass through without brushing her shoulder against someone’s hand or foot hanging off the edges.
On the outer rim, the beds were stacked only two high, and they had curtains hung—a bit of rare privacy for the higher-ranking guards like her aunt.
The curtains were already pulled for the night on her aunt’s bed. Eira knocked on the bedpost anyway. Luckily, her bunkmate wasn’t present.
“Go. Away,” Gwen Charem seethed from behind her bed curtains.
“You said I could always come to you no matter what the time, Auntie.”
The curtains snapped back. “Is that my favorite niece?”
“Goodness, don’t let Rose or Lily hear you say that.” Eira sat on the edge of the bed. Rose and Lily were her younger cousins, the daughters of one of Gwen’s older sisters.
“Those girls are as unbearable as their mother.” Gwen pulled herself upright with a yawn. She slept in her training clothes—always ready.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do and Nia knows it.” Gwen grinned. “And if she doesn’t, I’m confident you won’t be the one to tell her. You know a thing or two about unbearable older siblings.”
The Charem family tree branched out wide from underneath Eira’s grandparents—Orel and Tama. The two had five children over the span of sixteen years and Gwen was the youngest, only twelve years older than Eira. Two of their daughters had married and had kids—Eira’s mother, Reona, and her sister Nia. The eldest daughter, Cass, was unwed and still lived with their parents just outside of Rivend. Fritz, their only son, had yet to have any children.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of an evening visit? Did I get it right? Does it have something to do with Marcus?”
Eira kicked off her shoes, pulling her feet onto the bed and sitting opposite her aunt. “You’ve heard about the tournament, right?”
“Everyone has heard about the tournament.” Gwen grinned. “Are you thinking of becoming a candidate? Trying to beat the trials to win a spot as competitor?”
“Trials?” Eira tilted her head.
“Oops.” Gwen grinned sheepishly. “I forgot announcements weren’t going to be made until tomorrow morning.” Her aunt winked and Eira doubted she’d forgotten at all. Gwen had always been good to her. “Well, do you want to be in the tournament?”
“I…” Eira sighed, the conversation from earlier still turning her magic frigid.
“I think you should know, the Tournament of Five Kingdoms will be held on the Crescent Continent.”
“What?” Eira leaned forward, her voice dropping to an excited whisper. “The tournament will be on Meru?”
Gwen looked a little too smug and proud to have shared that morsel of information. “That’s the word I’ve heard.”
Eira chewed on her bottom lip, picking at a loose seam on the hem of her dress. The competitors would get to go to Meru. Every fantasy she’d ever had about seeing that distant land with her own eyes suddenly had the chance to come true.
“Uncle doesn’t want me to compete,” Eira admitted softly. “Because of three years ago.” When Eira dragged her eyes upward to look at Gwe
n, she was met with a deep scowl.
“Your uncle needs to remember you’re a woman grown and to mind his business. You paid your time marvelously. That incident is done and over.”
Eira let out a soft laugh. “Yes, but—”
“Three years ago was a grave and horrible mistake. You know that, but Eira, listen, look at me.” Gwen leaned forward, covering Eira’s picking fingers gently with her own. “You think I’ve never hurt anyone by accident before?”
“Hurting someone and killing them are very different,” Eira whispered. Her aunt ignored the remark.
“Listen, when I first got here, I was sparring with another student. I was just older than you were. I was sixteen and stupid and thought I was in control of not just myself but the whole damn world. Sound familiar?” Gwen tilted her head and Eira forced a nod.
She didn’t have the heart to correct her aunt. She hadn’t had an illusion she was in control back then. She hadn’t cared about control. She’d wanted them to hurt, just like they had hurt her—worse. She’d wanted the whole Tower to drown, to blister with her chill, whatever it took.
“In any case, I took it too far. I challenged him to a duel of forfeit. Do you know what that is?”
Eira shook her head.
“It’s a duel that only ends when someone forfeits or dies.”
“Duels to the death aren’t allowed in Solaris.”
“It’s not technically to the death. Though I still got a strong reprimanding for it from my superiors. Anyway, to spare you from a long and gruesome bedtime story… Things got out of hand and I nearly took off the arm of one of my fellow guards. If the swing had been slightly different, I might have cleaved him to the heart.”
“I didn’t know,” Eira whispered.
“I’m not exactly proud of it.” Gwen laughed lightly. Eira could hear a bitter note she recognized in herself. “So it’s not like I went home and told it around our Yule hearth that year. But it did happen. What do you think my punishment was?”
“Obviously you weren’t kicked out of the palace guard.”
“No. I was disciplined with hard lessons and service. But I served that time and I even rose through the ranks of the guard. Look at me now—I’m one step from major.” Gwen yawned and leaned away. With her hand free, Eira resumed picking at the hem of her dress. “Look, I don’t understand all the sorcery stuff of you and my brother. But I do understand what it’s like to be young, and make a mistake, and feel your life is ruined. But, if you’re breathing and are willing to work hard, there are not many mistakes that you can’t recover from.”
Eira kept her objections to herself. Certainly, if Gwen’s story was true, it was pretty serious. But the person she had hurt willingly stepped into the sparring ring. They accepted a chance of injury.
They also walked away with their life.
Three years ago, Eira had stepped into a classroom with a heart filled with naive hope. She had confessed her love—a love she’d thought was true and real—to Adam and he’d decided to make a game of it. He’d lured her in with a note of false promises. He’d given her the idea that he might actually have feelings for the awkward and gangly girl she’d been.
Noelle and the others were hidden when she’d arrived. Just as he’d gone to kiss Eira, they’d leapt from their hiding places with jeers. The jest had been on her.
Worthless…ugly…not even your mother could love you…
Eira could hear a thousand voices and she would never forget those. Ice had replaced the blood in her veins that night. Their cruelty had exposed her fragility and her power ran rampant. She’d covered half the Tower in frost, two sleeping students in the thick of it. One experienced severe frostbite and never returned to the Tower. The other was young, and had a weak constitution… She never woke up.
It was a wonder Eira hadn’t been expelled. Her actions were met with severe punishment, but since she’d been young, and not in control, she was spared irons—barely. The senate had certainly called for a more severe punishment. After that, most of the taunting happened from the shadows, rather than outright. And Eira could never look at any of her classmates the same.
“I hope you’re right,” Eira said softly to placate her aunt, shaking her head and sending the dark rats of her past scattering back to their usual shadows.
“I can tell you don’t believe me. But I am.” Gwen was settling back down underneath the covers so Eira stood. But her aunt caught her hand. “You have to move on eventually. Throw your hat in the ring. Fight to be a competitor.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“No one—no one loves the Crescent Continent—”
“Meru,” Eira corrected. The land had been mostly forgotten to time. Those who did know of it referred to it as the “Crescent Continent” not knowing any better. But it had a name now; as far as Eira was concerned, people needed to start referring to it properly.
“My point exactly.” Gwen smiled and pulled Eira’s hand so she was leaning over her. “No one loves that place more than you. You were born to go there, to see the wide world and find your place in it, I can feel it.” Gwen kissed her cheek. “So sleep well, niece of mine. When you wake up, follow your heart. I’ll help smooth things over with your uncle if needed.”
“Thanks, Auntie.”
Eira retreated back to the Tower, the shadows of her past and the possibilities of the future trailing her every step.
The next morning, she met with Alyss as planned and they suffered through classes.
After instruction was done for the day, Eira, Alyss, and the rest of the Tower met once more for an announcement in the main atrium at the Tower’s base. Every student and teacher hung on bated breath to the minister’s words.
“We all know why I have summoned you, so I will not make you wait.” Fritz stood on a table to address them all. “This week, I had lunch with the empress, which sparked many meetings with both the empress and emperor, as well as the head of the Guard and Minister of War on this upcoming tournament. In addition, I have met with Ambassador Ferro and his delegation, discussing the details further.”
“Get to the point,” Alyss hissed under her breath.
Eira shh’ed her. She was having a hard enough time focusing on Fritz over the murmurs, the voices that haunted her from the walls, the remnants of Gwen’s encouragement, and the frantic beating of her heart.
“It has been decided, after much discussion, that one sorcerer of each affinity will be sent from the Solaris Empire as our competitors in the Tournament of Five Kingdoms. This will mean the other four kingdoms—territories—will send four of their best sorcerers as well to compete.”
Whispers of excitement scampered across the room like eager children during the autumnal celebrations at the Festival of the Sun.
“Four of us, they’re sending four!” Alyss shook Eira’s shoulder.
“Only one of each affinity though.”
“Don’t be a downer.”
Fritz continued before Eira could say anything. “Any apprentice over the age of fifteen or instructor is welcome to sign up as a candidate to be considered for competitor. To make the selection of final competitors fair, there will be a series of five trials to take place over the next three months that will determine who our champions are. Trials will begin after sign-ups here in the atrium. Firebearers will be able to sign up tomorrow. Groundbreakers the day after. Waterrunners will be last. Sign-ups begin at dawn and last until sunset.”
“No mention of Windwalkers,” Alyss muttered. “He’s not going to have to compete in these trials, is he?”
Eira knew exactly who Alyss meant when she said he. “Of course not; they’re not going to send the empress. And Cullen is the strongest, oldest, and most skilled of the Windwalkers that have awoken. He’s the only viable option.” Eira grimaced. “Maybe we shouldn’t sign up. If we were chosen, we’d have to compete alongside Cullen.”
“It’d be worth putting up with him as a teammate for a chance to compete against th
e other sorcerers from other kingdoms,” Alyss said with a shake of her head.
“If you have any questions, please direct them to your instructors. Good luck, everyone. You have a chance to represent Solaris on the greatest stage ever known,” Fritz finished, his voice echoing overhead with the weight of destiny.
5
Eira and Alyss weren’t the only ones curious about what “sign-ups” meant. The next evening they hovered with other apprentices up on the walkway where they’d listened to Fritz the night before. All eyes were focused on the board surrounded by a ring of fire.
“I wonder if this counts as the first trial,” Alyss said.
“Hmm?” Eira had yet to look away from the sign-up board.
“The minister said there would be five trials to narrow down the candidates to four final competitors. I wonder if crossing the fire counts as the first trial.”
“I don’t think so. He said the trials would begin after sign-ups.”
“Oh, right. He did.” Alyss glanced up from the wood she was magically whittling away, a rain of sawdust pooling at her feet. “Look, he’s going to try.”
A young apprentice walked forward, hesitating at the edge of the flames. He had the capped sleeves of a Firebearer. Yet, apprehension radiated off of him. He looked like he was barely fifteen.
Naturally occurring fire, water, wind, and earth couldn’t hurt sorcerers within their own affinities. A Firebearer couldn’t be burned by the flame of a candle, or flames they created. However, if the fire was created by another sorcerer, then it became a battle of strength.
Focus overcame the young man’s face. Sweat dripped down his neck as he stared intently at the flames. They flickered, wavering a moment. He stuck his hand forward and pulled it back with a hiss. The fire roared, brighter than before. The young man walked away, dejected, giving up on signing his name.
“Not strong enough.” Alyss clicked her tongue. “Interesting. I wonder who’s making that fire.”
“Does it matter?” Eira asked, watching the next young woman approach.
She was a little older, and far more confident. She raised her hand and the flames parted, shrinking to a dull smolder around the board at their center. The apprentice passed over them, unharmed, and wrote her name on the list. From where Eira was standing, she counted about ten Firebearers’ names.