Chapter 49 - Quest for a meal

  Two girls sat around a dying fire, squinting at the meager remains of their breakfast like it might suddenly turn into something edible.

  They were discussing something of the utmost importance—something that very much could decide their survival.

  “W-We could try fishing…” Lilia said at last, her voice hopeful but thin. Her silver hair stuck out in every direction, tangled beyond saving, her clothes torn and streaked with dirt and ash.

  Ariel looked up from the ashes.

  She shook her head slowly. "Neither of us has any idea how to fish."

  "...W-We could try," Lilia muttered, frowning faintly.

  Ariel looked away. She wasn't wrong—they were running out of options. For the past three days, they'd been living off grass, a handful of dried fruit, a few nuts, and whatever else the forest hadn't claimed first. It wasn't much. It wasn't enough.

  And Lilia… Lilia was worried—mostly about Ariel.

  "How about hunting?" Lilia offered next, a little too quickly.

  Ariel sighed. "That's even worse."

  Lilia blinked. "Worse? How is it worse?"

  "...Because when you try to hunt something, it'll probably end up hunting you back," Ariel said flatly, poking the fire with a stick.

  With a soft sigh, Lilia lowered her head, picking at her own knuckles.

  Silence settled again; only the crackle of the embers and the quiet chirp of morning birds filled the air.

  "H-How about this…" Lilia started, her voice tentative but determined. "...What if we split up?"

  Ariel's head turned toward her. "Split up?"

  "...We could search the hills for anything edible—berries, roots, whatever we can find. T-Then bring it all back and figure out what's safe to eat." Lilia's words came faster now.

  "W—We'd cover more ground that way. Find more food."

  Ariel stared at her, expression unreadable. "That's a terrible idea."

  Lilia flinched slightly but pressed on. "I-I know it sounds bad, but… we can't keep going like this. You haven't eaten properly in days, and—"

  "And you think wandering off alone is going to help?" Ariel cut in, her tone worried.

  "It's practical," Lilia insisted quietly, meeting her gaze. "We need more food. This is the fastest way."

  Ariel hesitated, her jaw tight. She poked at the fire again, harder this time.

  "...Or we get picked off one by one," she muttered.

  Lilia's throat tightened, but she didn't back down. "We can't waste time. If we don't make it back to the temple before nightfall…" Her voice trailed off, but the meaning hung heavy in the air. They both knew what she meant.

  Ariel stared into the ashes for a long moment. When her gaze finally dropped to her right arm, covered in gold, her eyes narrowed.

  Finally, she let out a slow breath. "...Alright," she said quietly, though her voice carried a weight of reluctance. "Let's do that."

  ***

  The two of them spent most of the morning preparing for their short walk beyond the temple.

  Ariel paused for a moment, letting her gaze wander across the vast chamber around them. The Trial Temple was large, its walls built from the same polished marble Solvara had once been famed for. The same marble that could only be found within Solvaran borders.

  It was easy to see why Varghelm had sought trade with them so desperately. Solvaran craft wasn’t just beautiful; it was unyielding. Strong enough to hold back time and war alike. Strong enough that even after centuries, Solvara’s walls had never fallen.

  Until she…

  Ariel’s breath caught. She shook her head sharply, forcing the thought away.

  The chamber stretched far beyond what she’d seen last night. At its center stood the raised dais, the same one she’d collapsed on when they’d first arrived. Its surface was carved with faint runes, lines of light that shimmered softly in the morning sun.

  Above, the ceiling was open to the sky, sunlight spilling down in fractured beams that painted the marble in gold and shadow. Around the dais, a ring of stone columns reached upward, their spiraled carvings half-erased by age.

  It was clear now that the temple was far larger than they’d first thought—multiple levels, side corridors, maybe even entire wings buried beneath the collapsed sections.

  But none of that mattered right now.

  She crossed the marble floor quietly until she found Lilia on the far side of the chamber, who was checking up on Ryn.

  Ariel reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  The maid flinched and spun around, eyes wide, then exhaled when she saw who it was.

  “A–Ariel,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “Don't—Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  Ariel waved a hand.

  “How’s he doing?” she asked, her tone light, but her eyes didn’t leave Ryn.

  He lay still in the cart, wrapped in bandages that had gone from white to brown. His face looked a little less pale now. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  Lilia crouched beside him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “He’s… breathing steady. That’s new,” she said, forcing a small smile.

  Ariel nodded.

  A quiet settled between them, filled only by the sound of wind moving through the cracks above.

  “I wonder how he’ll react when he finds out about… everything,” Ariel murmured.

  Lilia’s lips twitched into a tired smile. “I’m just happy we’re all still here to tell him about it,” she said softly. “That counts for something.”

  Ariel didn’t reply right away. Her gaze lingered on the flicker of light reflecting off the gold, faintly pulsing beneath her arm.

  Her smile faded into something smaller—something fragile.

  “…Yeah,” she said at last. “I guess it does.”

  ***

  They stepped out together, their shadows stretching long across the cracked marble floor.

  The plan for the day was simple—at least, in theory.

  They needed food.

  They stepped out together, crossing the threshold into light.

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  Outside, the world stretched open before them. The hills rolled outward in waves of pale gold and green, scattered with wildflowers and the white glint of sunlit stone. The air was cool and still, touched by the faint scent of dust and windblown grass.

  Lilia took a slow breath. “W-We’ll meet back here before sunset,” she said. “If anything feels off any–anything at all…you turn back.”

  Ariel nodded.

  “Got it. Just don’t go too far.”

  Lilia gave a small, tired smile. “...Same to you”

  And with that, they split off, two figures moving in opposite directions through the Sol Garden hills, the noon light spilling over them.

  Ariel moved quietly through the lower hills near the temple.

  Lilia had insisted it would be safer this way—if aberrations were really drawn to Ariel, then it was better she stayed close to the Trial grounds. Ariel hadn’t argued.

  It was better this way.

  Ariel had another reason for not arguing about staying nearby. She needed space to test her blessing, away from Lilia’s eyes.

  She worked as she thought, hands moving through the grass and soil, gathering what she could find. Mushrooms, bitter herbs, a few wild roots that looked…somewhat edible.

  She tied the corners of a cloth Lilia had given her, fashioning a crude bag, and began to fill it piece by piece.

  The air was still, the hills bathed in soft afternoon light. The ground beneath her boots was damp, the scent of rain still clinging to the soil. Every so often, she’d glance up at the horizon, and the temple spires gleamed faintly in the distance.

  She kept moving, scouring the hillside until her hands were stained with dirt and sap.

  Ariel wasn’t just searching for food.

  She was looking for a place—somewhere far enough from the temple, somewhere quiet.

  It took time, but she eventually found it: a lone tree standing in the shadow of a stone outcrop, half-hidden by thick bushes. Its branches hung low, heavy with clusters of small, pale berries that caught the sunlight like drops of glass.

  This could work, Ariel thought.

  She stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

  Ariel stood before the tree and exhaled slowly.

  Then she focused.

  Before her awakening, channeling light had required prayer, soft words whispered to a distant god in exchange for a tiring, fleeting spark. But now, things were different. Her vow had been made, her soul bound to the sun itself. The light no longer came from worship… it came from within her.

  That was good, she told herself.

  She exhaled slowly, steadying her shaking hands. She’d been thinking about this for a while now; light wasn’t just one thing, but a spectrum. Today, she would finally test that theory.

  She wasn’t exactly sure how she was supposed to do that, though.

  The idea of calling on her power willingly felt strange. It had always come in moments of chaos, when her body moved before her mind could catch up.

  But if she wanted to master it, she needed to understand it.

  So she closed her eyes and tried to remember.

  The heat.

  The weight in her chest just before the light surged.

  That strange, terrifying pull, like reaching inward and grasping something vast and alive, buried deep beneath her ribs.

  She could almost feel it again, that thread of light coiled inside her, trembling with quiet fury, waiting.

  If she could find it without breaking, without losing control this time… maybe she could finally choose what her light became…

  Ariel extended her right arm, the one marked with faint golden cracks. Her fingers trembled as she tried to summon the light, but nothing came, not at first. Only the memory of pain, coiling deep within her heart.

  I’m terrified, she realized.

  Still, she pushed forward.

  Light wasn’t only for destruction. It brought warmth to those who needed it most; her mother had shown her that.

  She thought back to the meeting with the sun god, how agony and warmth had come together, burning and healing her at once.

  Her shaking lessened.

  If her light truly existed on a spectrum, then ten was the peak—the same devastating power she'd been releasing without control. But what of one through nine?

  She wanted to know.

  No… She needed to know.

  If she wanted to keep them together.

  Ariel inhaled, then whispered to herself, “Start small.”

  She closed her eyes and concentrated.

  The familiar sting flared to life almost instantly, the cracks along her arm burning like molten knives beneath her skin.

  But this time… it was smaller. Contained. The pain still tore through her nerves, fierce and unrelenting, yet it didn’t consume her whole body like before.

  She bit down on her lip until the taste of iron filled her mouth, forcing herself not to cry out. Her vow pulsed within her bones, a cruel reminder that her light and pain would forever come hand in hand.

  And then, slowly…

  A soft glow bloomed in her palm. White, gentle, steady.

  It didn’t scorch the air or blind her. It didn’t destroy.

  It was just… warm.

  The kind of warmth that melted frost and chased away the dark.

  Ariel exhaled, trembling as the light bathed her face. Sweat gathered on her forehead, her breath shallow but calm.

  It worked.

  It really worked

  For the first time since Solvara, she’d touched her power without breaking something.

  She’d found her one.

  Now came the rest.

  Ariel drew a shaky breath, grounding herself as she braced for the pain. Slowly, carefully, she focused more energy into the light. The warmth in her palm flared, a soft pulse at first, then steady, rhythmic, alive.

  The pain climbed with it, crawling up her arm, gnawing at her nerves. By the time she reached what she assumed to be three, her teeth were clenched, her vision trembling. But she didn’t stop.

  She couldn’t.

  The light brightened, its edges soft and golden, washing over the dirt and grass beneath her knees. And then, when she pushed to what she assumed was five, the world around her responded.

  The ground shifted.

  The wind stilled.

  And the plants nearest to her hand… moved.

  The tree changed as well.

  The brittle branches straightened, leaves shivering as though waking from a deep sleep. The pale berries shimmered under the golden glow. Tiny buds swelled and opened, one after another, until the branches were heavy with blossoms.

  White petals began to fall, soft and slow, spiraling through the air around her like drifting snow.

  Vines that had been dry and brittle began to stretch upward, curling toward the glow. Tiny buds swelled. The entire hill seemed to breathe, colors blooming all over.

  Ariel gasped. The pain was sharp, yes, but the heat pouring from her palm wasn’t destruction — it was life.

  She stared, wide-eyed, as the bush before her burst into tiny white blossoms, swaying in the golden light.

  She was right. She was so right.

  The sun didn’t only burn.

  It healed.

  Ariel’s lips parted in awe as she stared at the tiny white blossoms.

  She couldn’t stop shaking.

  She wanted to see more. To understand it.

  So she pushed a little further.

  The warmth surged in response, the light swelling brighter. The pain followed quickly after, sharper now, spreading from her arm to her chest. She winced but didn’t stop. Not yet. The flowers gleamed gold in the light, their petals trembling under the radiance.

  Then the glow flared again, too bright, too sudden.

  The warmth turned to heat.

  And the heat turned to fire.

  Ariel’s breath caught as the blossoms blackened, curling in on themselves. The vines crackled, the grass around her catching like dry parchment. The scent of burning plants filled the air.

  “—No, no, no!” she yelped, scrambling back. She waved her arm, panic rushing in, the pain and heat tangled together until she could barely think.

  The light sputtered, then vanished.

  Smoke rose from the scorched patch of ground before her — the same bush that had bloomed seconds ago now little more than ash.

  Ariel stared, chest heaving, her arm still glowing faintly beneath the skin.

  The cracks along it pulsed once, hard enough to make her gasp.

  She sank to her knees, clutching her wrist.

  Her voice came out low, bitter, trembling.

  “…Still dangerous,” she whispered.

  The wind picked up, scattering the last of the white petals across the burned ground.