CHAPTER SEVEN
T here is a nervous tension in the air. A quiet murmur. It’s so palpable that I can almost feel it vibrating against my skin, even without using my magic. I desperately want to, though. I want to reach out with my magic and calm the anxiousness in the room so that it’s easier to breathe. For everyone. But I’ve learned from experience that people hate it when I use my magic on them without being asked. Even if I’m trying to help. So instead of decreasing the worry that I can see on people’s faces, I just grab a plate of food and sit down alone to eat my breakfast.
Even though the dining room is large, at least compared to what I’m used to, it’s filling up quickly because of the number of contestants. Yesterday, Imar said that the first trial wouldn’t start until midday. But apparently, no one was keen on sleeping in. Instead, we’re all up at sunrise. Ready to face whatever today might bring.
I look down at my plate as I settle into my seat.
There is bread and cheese, eggs and sausages, and even a pile of diced fruit. Joy pulses through me. It’s the most luxurious breakfast I have ever had. In fact, it’s the first breakfast I’ve ever had, since we usually only get one meal a day.
Picking up my knife and fork, I carefully cut into one of the eggs. The warm yolk runs out a little on the plate as I cut through it. I use a piece of bread to mop it up.
A soft moan escapes my throat as I eat.
Goddess above, this alone was worth the climb over the iron wall yesterday.
While I continue eating the delicious food, savoring each bite, I study the people around me. These men and women will be my competition for the three winning spots in the trials. I need to figure out what I’m up against.
My gaze lingers on a group sitting in the middle of the room, right underneath the golden chandelier. Alistair and his four friends. He is lounging in his chair as if it were a throne, and based on the way people around him behave, it might as well be. Everyone averts their eyes and gives his table a wide berth when they pass. It appears to be out of fear rather than respect, though. I don’t blame them. After all, Alistair has fire magic. It’s not only a rare magical ability among our people, it’s also their element. The dragon shifters’ element. That alone would make people wary of Alistair.
I pick up my slice of fluffy bread and take another bite while I shift my gaze to the table next to mine. The woman with ice powers sits there. Her long black hair lies neatly down her back, and her blue and silver eyes are focused on the food before her as she eats. She doesn’t even look up when two guys, one with silver hair and one with blond hair, pull out the chairs opposite her and sit down.
“Hey,” the silver-haired one says.
The woman looks up from her eggs. Her dark brows pull into a scowl at finding them there, but she gives them a curt nod in greeting before she goes back to eating.
“What? No hello?” he pushes.
She simply continues eating.
“Rude,” he scoffs. Then he and his friend exchange a knowing look. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised. We’ve heard that you’re very unapproachable, Isera.”
The woman, Isera, simply slices through a sausage and spears it with her fork.
“Want some advice?” the guy says. But he doesn’t wait for a response. “How about actually replying when a man tries to make small talk?”
“Yeah,” the blond one fills in. “And you should smile more.”
At that, Isera finally looks up. Her face is an expressionless mask and her tone is flat as she replies with one single word. “Why?”
“Because it makes you look pretty.”
“And why would that be my goal?”
Stunned silence falls over the table as the two guys stare at her, uncomprehending, while their mouths work up and down a few times.
Isera lets out a scoff and goes back to eating.
“No wonder you’re still single,” the silver-haired one huffs. “Fucking ice lady.”
Utensils clink as he and his friend angrily gather up their things and stomp over to another table. Isera doesn’t even watch them leave. She just picks up her slice of bread and arranges some cheese on it. Three other people quickly take the empty seats at Isera’s table, but as opposed to those guys, they don’t bother her with annoying comments.
A smile steals across my lips as I watch her. Goddess, that was epic. The next time someone tries to walk all over me, I’m going to do that as well. Just treat them like they’re less than air. I’m going to?—
“Sorry,” a man’s voice says from right next to me.
Setting down my fork, I look up to find two people standing next to my table.
“Are you finished?” the fae man asks.
I flick a glance down at the still half full plate on my table, which is a very obvious clue that I am in fact not finished. I once again look up at the man and the woman with him.
“Uhm…” I begin, not sure what to say.
“It’s just, all the other tables are full,” he continues, waving a hand to indicate the now packed dining room. “And you’re taking up a table for two.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. But I force myself to laugh so that they won’t feel uncomfortable too. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”
“So could we…?” He motions at the table.
My chest tightens, and I glance between them and my table. Then my gaze flicks to Isera for a second. I want to do what she did. Mere seconds ago, I told myself that I was going to do what she did. I want to tell them no . I want to tell them to find their own damn table. That I want to sit down and eat my food too.
But I don’t. Because no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I still desperately want people to like me. I want them to trust me. I want to be accepted.
So I force a smile and pick up my plate and say, “Sure.”
Pain and frustration swirl like a restless storm behind my ribcage as I walk away with my plate. I hate that I am this way. I hate that I desperately want people’s approval. I hate that I make myself less so that others won’t feel uncomfortable around me.
I just want to scream. I want to say what I really feel sometime instead of just saying what I know that other people want to hear. I want to push back. I want to stand up for myself.
And I will.
After I win the Atonement Trials, everything will change. People will accept me and the leaders of the resistance will finally raise me to the top levels. I will make a difference. I will help free our people. And then everyone will finally trust me.
But first, I need to actually win the trials. Which means that I need an advantage.
With my plate still in hand, I scan the dining room again.
My gaze snags on a dark-haired fae man sitting alone by the pale stone wall to my left. The man who sat opposite him has just taken his empty plate and left. But an empty seat is not why my heart jolted when I spotted him. It’s because I recognize him.
His name is Kevlin, and he has entered the Atonement Trials the previous two times as well. Some people call him Kevlin the Double Loser behind his back because of it.
Before someone else can claim that seat, I hurry over to it and sit down.
“Hi, sorry, is it okay if I join you?” I say, my voice breathless.
He frowns a little but then shrugs. “Fine.”
I give him a smile in thanks and then eat a piece of bread. He continues eating too.
After I deem an appropriate amount of time has passed, I make my voice soft as I ask, “So, you’ve been in these trials before, right?”
Annoyance flickers in his eyes, but he replies, “Yes.”
“Are the trials the same every time?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Why should I tell you?”
I curse silently in my mind. Of course he doesn’t want to share anything that might give him an edge.
Indecision flashes through me. I don’t want to use my powers on him, but I also really need this information.
Making a snap decision, I lower my gaze to my plate and make my voice small. While he can no longer see my eyes, I channel my magic and reply, “Because I really need help. I’m not a threat to anyone here, and I’m so scared that I will be eliminated in the first trial. It would be such an embarrassment for my family.”
Just like I did with the guy at the gate, I reach out with my magic and push at his sympathy. To my relief, I find a small pink spark there that I can latch on to. I pour my magic into it, making it bigger.
Kevlin heaves a deep sigh. “Fine. But just because you asked nicely.”
Or because I used my magic to manipulate your emotions. Potato, potahto.
“No, the trials are not the same every time,” he says. “Or at least, they haven’t been the last two times. But one thing that has remained the same is the very first one. It’s not actually a trial at all. It’s more of a test. One final hurdle before the real trials start. It’s basically just a demonstration where everyone displays their skills individually.”
Victory shimmers inside me. Fantastic. Then I can use the remaining hours to prepare.
“Oh, I see,” I reply. “And how does?—”
“Check it out!” a male voice booms across the room. “Soulstealer is manipulating Kevlin the Double Loser.”
I immediately cut off my magic, but the damage is already done. Snapping my gaze up, I find the muscular guy who I tried to manipulate at the gate smirking at me and Kevlin from where he sits next to Alistair.
Kevlin, who also turned to look towards him when he spoke, shifts his gaze back to me. Embarrassment, indignation, and anger flash across his face. I open my mouth to apologize, but he cuts me off.
“You manipulated my emotions,” he accuses.
“Uhm…” is all I manage to reply.
Wood scrapes against stone as he shoots out of his seat and lunges towards me. I barely manage to push my own chair back before he grabs me by the collar and yanks me up. His eyes, a mix of brown and lavender, are pulsing with fury as he tightens his grip on my collar.
“You slippery little snake,” he growls in my face. “I hope you humiliate yourself at the test today.” He raises his voice. “And I hope that no one here ever lets you get close to them. After all, no one wants a backstabber as an ally.”
My stomach lurches as he uses his grip on my shirt to throw me away from his table. I stumble sideways, slamming into another table a few strides away. Utensils clank and a mug clatters as the force makes the table rattle, tipping over several items.
“Don’t ever approach me again,” he warns.
Nausea rolls through my stomach.
I can feel the eyes of everyone in the room watching me. The distrust radiating from them sears into my skin like iron pokers. I swallow back the lump in my throat as I straighten from the table I crashed into.
A pair of eyes that are a breathtaking mix of pink and purple meet me. They belong to a fae woman with an incredibly beautiful face, which is marred by a scar that cuts along her cheek and across her jaw.
I blink, recognizing the brown-haired woman from yesterday. She’s the one who grew a tree out of the ground so that she could climb over the wall.
My gaze darts down to the toppled mug and the small pool of water that now covers part of the tabletop.
Clearing my throat, I tentatively reach out and straighten the mug. “I’m sorry.”
For a few seconds, she just watches me in silence. Her eyes are completely blank. As is her expression.
Just when I think that she’s going to ignore me, she cracks a smile. “No worries. Everything I have has already been spilled more than once anyway.”
“I, uhm…” Blinking, I trail off, because I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean. But she doesn’t appear angry at least, so I simply clear my throat once more and repeat, “I’m sorry.”
Giving her an apologetic look, I back away and start towards the door.
Oppressive silence fills the dining room.
Everyone is watching me. The look in their eyes varies from disgust to wariness to shrewd calculation.
I swallow and try to walk as naturally as I can through the sea of staring contestants. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
We’re not even one day into the trials, and everyone already despises me.
My chest constricts, making it difficult to breathe. I shouldn’t have used my powers like this. Now everyone hates me. But I needed that information.
I draw in a shuddering breath as I try to settle the war between my heart and my mind, torn between wanting people to like me and wanting to win. It doesn’t work, so I decide to just block it all out instead.
The first test is today. And regardless of how I found out and the consequences that my actions had, I now know what it is. A demonstration. A simple display of our powers.
A small smile blows across my lips as I leave the dining room behind and start towards my room to plot out how I will show off my magic.
This should be easy.