Fireborn

4 ¦ A Brush with Death

As we filed into the arena for Induction, it seemed as though the oval amphitheater reached to the heavens and kissed the clouds. I imagined that our entire village of Halden could fit within that one gigantic stone structure.

An endless wave of cheering bodies crammed into every recessed seating tier. My heart thudded in protest.

"So many people..."

"You'll be fine, Liselle," Bragda replied. "Take deep breaths. Besides, what can happen when Mister Dumb-ass is watching your every step?"

I turned around and gave Peter another scowl. His steely gaze didn't ease my nervousness.

What did he think would happen in front of all these people?

Together with hundreds of other Initiates, we paraded through the Archway of Triumph. My fingers tingled with anticipation as we marched towards the stage.

Silence fell upon the arena as the Head Dean walked towards the podium, ready to introduce the initiates. It was so quiet all of a sudden that I could even hear flies buzzing in the searing sun.

A feeling of nervous anticipation crackled through the air like tiny bolts of lightning. We all waited with bated breath for our chance to take the blood oath. Each initiate had to prick their index finger with a blade, squeeze a few drops of blood into a holy grail, and declare their solemn vows for their respective classes. We would then join the other students in our designated class rows.

Before the Dean could begin her speech, Peter's voice pierced the silence like a lance.

"Hit the ground, Liselle!"

I didn't react fast enough. An odd thump hit my chest, followed by two more blows as I squeezed my eyes shut and doubled over. Peter shielded me with his body as I slowly tumbled to the sandy ground.

My breathing became rapid and shallow, and my vision blurred. Everyone's shrieks and cries melded into a jumble of chaos. Screaming spectators scrambled over each other in panic, stomping on the bleachers like a pack of wild animals.

Initiates dove to the ground, some of whom were injured in the chaotic flurry of arrows between the enemy and the guards. Defenders rushed out from hiding and engaged the assassins, their broadswords clanging as the public screamed in a mad scramble to exit the arena.

"Shh, don't panic," he said. "I've got you."

I made the colossal mistake of looking down. That was when I felt it. A sharp pain like a lance through the heart followed by searing agony.

Three arrows were sticking out of my chest.

"Oh, gods!" When I withdrew my trembling hands from my chest, they were covered in blood. "Bragda, help!"

A bundle of auburn fury ran towards me, her sapphire eyes wide with panic. "Someone help my sister!"

The world swam before my eyes.

Is this a vision? Or is it real?

"Trust me," Peter said. His voice sounded distant as though he was calling out to her from inside a deep cave. "Let me heal her, or she'll die."

My mind turned blank as that familiar sensation overcame me and the ground vanished underneath my body. This time, it felt different than my visions, though. The falling didn't seem to stop. My soul continued its endless tumbling through the dark abyss.

Something arrested my fall. I could feel a force tugging me back to reality before I could slip further. Sucking in a ragged breath through my teeth, I opened my eyes to find the Rogue clutching my hand.