Chapter 46 - Run to the trial

  After the first drops came, the rain fell fast.

  Then came the sound.

  A shriek, inhuman, guttural, split through the hills, cutting through the downpour like tearing metal. It echoed across the open plains, rolling through the mist until it reached them. Ariel’s heart stopped.

  She knew that sound.

  It was the aberration.

  The same one that had stalked them through the forest.

  And now that darkness had fallen, it was awake, hungry, and it had found her.

  The apostle of Sol.

  The rain thickened into a torrent, every drop striking like needles against their skin. The sky flashed white with lightning, each burst revealing their surroundings in harsh, blinding clarity before vanishing again into black.

  Ariel shouted, voice breaking.

  Lilia didn’t answer; she couldn’t.

  Together, they just ran.

  The world had become a blur of motion and noise. The cart rattled violently behind them, Ryn’s limp body jostling with every stumble. Mud splashed against their legs. Grass tore beneath their feet. Thunder boomed so loud it shook the ground, as though the heavens themselves were splitting apart.

  Ariel’s lungs burned, her heart hammering. She was blessed; her body could endure far more than any human’s, but even she felt the edges of exhaustion tearing at her.

  Lilia, though… she could barely stand.

  Her breath came in ragged bursts, her steps growing slower, heavier. Ariel didn’t understand how she was still moving, how she could even lift her legs at all.

  But there was no time to think.

  No time to stop.

  They had to reach the shrine.

  If they could just make it there, just a little farther, then maybe Ryn and Lilia would survive.

  Lightning split the sky again, illuminating the field in blinding white. For a single heartbeat, Ariel saw it, the creature cresting the far hill behind them, its twisted limbs dragging through the mud, its maw gaping open in a silent scream.

  “Run!” Ariel gasped.

  And so they ran.

  Through the sheets of rain.

  Through the deafening thunder.

  Through the storm that seemed intent on swallowing the world whole.

  They didn’t need to. Both of them already knew.

  The creature was faster—far faster.

  Even wounded, even limping, it was gaining on them.

  Its screeches tore through the rain, closer each time, echoing like some cruel countdown to the inevitable.

  Their ghastly journey would end here.

  They knew it.

  And still, they ran.

  Lilia’s legs trembled beneath her, each step more a fall than a stride. Her fingers clung to the cart’s handles with white-knuckled desperation, her breath coming in sharp, broken gasps. Ariel was right beside her, drenched and shivering, her golden hair plastered to her face, every muscle screaming in defiance.

  The wheels of the cart slammed through mud and stone, jolting violently as Ryn’s body shifted inside. The sound of the rattling wood mixed with the thunder overhead, the storm swallowing their every cry.

  At some point, they weren’t even running anymore.

  Just stumbling forward, dragging what little strength they had left through the mire.

  Each heartbeat felt slower than the last.

  Each step, heavier.

  The world had narrowed to rain, pain, and the sound of their own breathing—

  and behind it all, that terrible, crawling sound drawing closer and closer through the storm.

  Ariel stumbled forward, a few paces ahead of Lilia, before the sound hit her—

  a dull, heavy thud.

  She turned sharply.

  Lilia was on the ground.

  For a moment, Ariel just stared, her mind blank. Then it hit her all at once.

  Lilia had collapsed. Her arms still clutched the cart’s handle, her body trembling from sheer exhaustion.

  “Lilia!” Ariel dropped to her knees beside her, hands shaking as she shook her. “Lilia, you have to get up!”

  No response. Just the ragged rise and fall of Lilia’s chest, her breaths shallow and uneven.

  Ariel’s pulse spiked. She glanced back over her shoulder—through the haze of the hills and the slant of the dying sun, a shadow moved. Slow, uneven… but getting closer.

  Her hands tightened around Lilia’s shoulders. “Please, Lilia, please—” she shook harder, desperation cracking her voice. “The trial’s not far. You need to survive, you have to—”

  But Lilia didn’t answer.

  Her lips parted faintly, her eyes unfocused, and all that came was a weak, trembling breath.

  And the sound of dragging limbs drew closer.

  Ariel’s voice was barely a whisper, lost in the roar of the rain.

  She turned, her drenched hair clinging to her face, and reached for the cart. Her trembling fingers found the hilt of Ryn’s sword. It was far too heavy for her small hands, but she pulled it free all the same.

  The downpour soaked through her tattered dress, plastering the fabric to her skin. She stepped forward, planting herself between Lilia, the cart, and the approaching darkness. The mud splashed around her boots, the storm howling like some cruel spectator.

  For a heartbeat, she simply stood there.

  shoulders square, sword trembling in her grip, gold eyes gleaming through the rain.

  She looked almost like him now.

  Ryn.

  That same stubborn stance.

  That same reckless resolve she used to mock.

  She let out a shaky breath. A laugh broke from her throat—wet, tired, half-hysterical.

  “Look at me,” she muttered under her breath, her voice trembling with both fear and bitter amusement.

  “I used to make fun of you for doing this…”

  She raised the sword, rain streaking down her cheeks like tears.

  “…and now here I am.”

  ***

  Lilia stretched out her arm.

  Her fingers twitched weakly, reaching toward the blur of white and gold through the curtain of rain.

  But she couldn’t move, not really. Her body was heavy, unresponsive. Every muscle screamed when she tried to lift herself. The world tilted and spun, the mud cold beneath her cheek.

  She’d been careless.

  So desperate to keep going, to stay beside Ariel, that she’d ignored the shaking in her legs, the blur in her vision. She hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten enough, hadn’t stopped even when her body begged her to.

  And now, when it mattered most, when Ariel needed her…she couldn’t even stand.

  A bitter laugh caught in her throat and died there.

  Nothing had changed.

  Not since the first day they met.

  Back then, she couldn’t protect her either — not from the weight of her name, not from her pain, not from anything.

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  And now, once again, all she could do was watch as the girl she cared for more than anyone in the world faced something that no one should.

  Ariel stood alone, soaked to the bone, clutching Ryn’s sword in both trembling hands. The blade was too long for her, too heavy, dragging slightly in the mud. She didn’t know how to wield it — that much was painfully clear.

  And still, she stood.

  And across from her, the aberration loomed.

  It didn’t rush her. Didn’t pounce.

  It only watched, its many eyes glinting faintly in the storm’s light, green saliva dripping from its mandibles in slow, viscous strands.

  For a long, wordless moment, the world held still.

  The rain, the thunder, the wind, everything seemed to stop.

  Only the sound of Lilia’s heartbeat filled her ears, fast and uneven.

  She wanted to scream.

  To move.

  To do something.

  But all she could do was watch as the princess she’d sworn to serve faced the monster alone.

  ***

  Ariel stared into the creature’s eyes.

  She was absolutely, monstrously terrified — every bone in her body screamed at her to run, every instinct clawed at her to turn and flee. The air itself seemed to crush her chest, the pressure of the aberration’s presence burrowing into her ribs, her skull, her very thoughts.

  But she didn’t move.

  Her knuckles whitened around the hilt of the sword, rain sliding down her arms in trembling streaks. Her breath came in sharp bursts, too fast, too shallow, yet somehow she managed to keep her stance.

  Then, without warning, the creature attacked.

  The ground split beneath its weight as it slammed forward, its massive form crashing straight into her blade. The impact rattled through her arms, nearly tearing the weapon from her hands. She staggered back several steps, mud splashing up around her feet as she struggled to brace against the force.

  The sheer weight of the thing dragged her backward.

  And then its full body slammed against hers.

  Ariel hit the ground hard. The breath was knocked clean from her lungs as she skidded through wet soil, the sword slipping from her grasp for a second before she caught it again with trembling fingers.

  She coughed, spat mud, and forced herself upright.

  The creature roared, a horrible, wet sound that rattled the trees, and she charged again, screaming as she swung the blade.

  Steel met flesh. The edge of Ryn’s sword bit into one of the creature’s flailing limbs, slicing through it in a spray of black-green ichor. The limb fell twitching to the ground.

  But before she could even draw breath, another limb lashed out.

  It caught her across the side with bone-shattering force. The world spun, and pain exploded through her ribs. She was thrown through the air again, crashing into the earth with a dull, heavy thud.

  For a moment, all she could do was lie there, rain pelting her face, the taste of iron in her mouth, the sound of the creature’s claws tearing closer.

  And still, even then, she tried to push herself up.

  It repeated like this for what felt like forever.

  Ariel would lunge, screaming through the pain, the blade flashing through sheets of rain, and every time, the creature was faster. Its movements were brutal, precise, unrelenting. Every strike she landed was answered with twice the force, twice the fury.

  Her blade would bite into its flesh, and a moment later, one of its limbs would slam into her ribs, her shoulder, her back, throwing her down again.

  Each time she fell, she got back up.

  Each time she stood, it struck her down again.

  Mud caked her arms and face. Her breaths came out ragged, wheezing, her hands shaking so violently she could barely keep hold of the sword. She couldn’t even tell where the bruises ended and the blood began anymore.

  But she wasn’t dead.

  Not yet.

  Through the strength of being blessed, she was still breathing.

  Still standing.

  The aberration’s screeches grew harsher, angrier. It was toying with her now, tearing at her bit by bit, like a cat toying with its prey. And yet, even as it raised another limb, even as the air trembled from its roar, Ariel dragged herself upright again, teeth bared in a trembling smile.

  Ariel wondered if this was enough.

  Enough to rewrite her sins.

  Enough to keep lilia and Ryn with her.

  She doubted it.

  The creature lunged again, and this time it was different. It wasn’t testing her anymore.

  It was done playing.

  Its mass slammed into her, tearing her from the ground and sending her tumbling across the soaked hills. The world spun, grass, sky, rain, blood, all blurring together until she crashed hard against the mud. Her breath tore from her lungs in a single, broken gasp.

  Everything hurt.

  Her ribs screamed. Her arms wouldn’t move. But it didn’t matter — the creature was still after her.

  Good. That was good. If it stayed with her, Lilia and Ryn would have a chance to run.

  That was what she wanted… right?

  But when she forced her eyes open, through the rain, through the blur, her heart froze.

  The creature had turned.

  It lurched toward the cart, its movements uneven, half crawl, half stagger. Each of its spined legs struck the ground with a wet, scraping thud, leaving streaks of green ichor in the dirt. One limb dragged uselessly behind it, broken but twitching, slowing its advance to a jerking, predatory limp.

  It was no longer coming for her.

  It loomed over Lilia and the cart instead, its many eyes glinting in the fractured light, each one dripping venomous green.

  Lilia lay crumpled beside the cart, barely pushing herself upright, her face pale, her arms trembling. The creature’s breath hitched wetly, mandibles twitching. Ryn’s still form shifted with the tilt of the cart.

  Ariel’s stomach dropped.

  No.

  No, no, no—

  She tried to move, dragging herself through the mud, nails breaking against stone. Every inch forward burned, every breath came out as a sob. But the monster’s shadow already swallowed them both.

  She forced herself forward, every nerve on fire. Her vision blurred from the rain and tears, but she didn’t care. The creature raised one limb, long, barbed, glistening, and for that instant, Ariel saw it all: Lilia’s trembling form, the faint rise and fall of Ryn’s chest.

  She couldn’t let it happen again.

  Not again.

  Ariel’s voice tore through the rain.

  “NO!”

  She forced herself forward, crawling, stumbling, choking, but it wasn’t enough. The creature’s limb fell, cleaving the air with a shriek that split the sky.

  Ariel screamed—

  and then something happened.

  Ariel remembered the day she first prayed to sol. She’d asked for light.

  The hills themselves seemed to shudder, as though the air had been torn open.

  No…

  The air had been torn open.

  Pain ripped through Ariels arm, white-hot and blinding. Cracks splintered across her skin like glass under pressure, glowing from within. It wasn’t just pain. It tore through her nerves, through her very soul, leaving nothing but light.

  And then, through her fingers, it burst free.

  Light, familiar, merciless, divine, the same light that had torn through Solvara’s silver walls, that had reduced an entire city to ruin.

  Now it erupted again, focused at a single point—The aberration

  It lanced through the rain.

  Striking the creature mid-swing.

  Its raised limb disintegrated in a single, searing flash. Flesh and chitin were shredded apart, the air booming with an explosive crack that rolled through the hills.

  The creature shrieked, a high, metallic wail that made the earth tremble. It turned and twisted its many limbs wailing and striking against the ground as smoke rose from its mutilated frame.

  But over that monstrous sound came another scream, one far more human.

  Ariel’s.

  She writhed on the ground, her voice hoarse and broken. The light pouring from her arm was eating through her skin, through her veins, through everything. The pain was so bad it felt like it was tearing through every part of her that still belonged to the mortal world.

  It was like facing the sun god again —

  only this time, about a hundred times worse.

  Ariel curled into herself, trembling, tears streaking down her face. The pain was unbearable—so painfully, impossibly real. It tore through every breath, every heartbeat, until all she could do was gasp and sob soundlessly against the dirt.

  And then, a thought flickered through the haze.

  Was this it?

  Was this her vow?

  How ironic…

  She lay there for a long moment, shaking, until the pain began to dull, no, not fade, just change. The cracks still laced her arm, glowing faintly beneath the skin.

  Each pulse brought a sharp reminder, a spark of agony.

  Unlike after Solvara’s destruction. they didn’t spread across her whole body this time. They only remained on her right arm.

  She exhaled shakily and turned her head.

  And froze.

  Against all reason, the creature was still alive.

  It dragged itself through the mud, limbs half-melted, ichor spilling from its wounds, yet its eyes, those dozens of sickly green eyes…still burned with animal fury. It crawled with such single-minded madness that it sent a shiver crawling up her spine.

  But it wasn’t crawling toward her.

  It was moving toward the cart.

  Toward Lilia.

  Ariel’s throat clenched. She tried to crawl towards them, to scream, to do anything, but her body refused. The pain had hollowed her out; her limbs were nothing but dead weight. All she could do was watch, powerless, as the creature dragged itself closer inch by inch, toward the only people she had left.

  The world was going to take everything from her again.

  It would leave her alone again.

  That was the price for her sins.

  She tried to scream again but nothing.

  And then—

  She saw them.

  Wings.