Fate and Destiny (The Fated Series, #2)

Chapter 4 - Hiraeth - What Happened in the Ballroom

There will always be pain. Always be a voice on the other side of the closed door begging to be let in. Ignore it, and it begins to knock. Harder and harder, louder and louder, until it's the loudest sound in your ear. So open the door. Let it in. Listen to its pleas and prayers. Accept it wholly, and then watch as it leaves in peace, shutting the door behind it, thankful that its one desire to be heard has been fulfilled.

There will always be pain. Always be a voice on the other side of the closed door begging to be let in. Ignore it, and it begins to knock. Harder and harder, louder and lou-

BANG!

Her back arches, scarlet red soaked arms pulling against the uranium chains that hold her inches off the ground by her wrists. Her mouth opens to scream, but nothing more than a faint sound of strangled air comes out. For cycles, she's been without a voice. I would've thought that they'd order me to heal her sore chords, but they haven't, and I've heard her pain ringing in my ears long enough to haunt me for the rest of my life.

The one with the scar – Arkyn as I call him, after Saint Arkyn the Desolate – normally enjoys the sound of her pain. Twisted and sick like the rest of the maroon clothed underworld walkers. Every time I see their clothes I remember what they did. I still can't explain it – how it all happened that night of the Elysian Ball. Saints it feels like years ago that the whole castle was overrun by madmen and wolves made not of flesh and bone, but entirely of water and glowing eyes that would freeze you where you stood, both of fear and awe.

The whole castle was in chaos. The woman before me was fighting, Jade Assassins that came out of nowhere were fighting other cloaked figures, and everyone else was pushing and shoving to get out of the castle as quickly as possible. I was a part of the stampede, carefully attempting not to step on the heels of the woman in front of me. That's when I felt it, the same feeling I get when someone nearby gets a cut or walks in with a sickness. A small tingling at the back of my neck that runs down to my fingertips, begging to be used - to help.

I pushed towards the nearest wall and found that a male no more than a year older than myself, had been shoved into a large vase. His head was already soaked in blood, and I didn't think twice as my healing magic had my body cleaving a path toward him. I got to him, thankful that he was still somewhat conscious. I just managed to get him upright against a pillar when I realized that the room had gone unnaturally quiet. There was only a small group of the crowd left, along with all the killers standing idle throughout the room. As a Sitara – a Virtuoso Healer, second in rank to the Anevay – I didn't have to count the bodies to know that more than three dozen people were dead. There was no sound echoing save for the torn voice of the one who now calls himself The Eternal. After seeing what he does to make the girl scream, I'm not entirely sure that the name is meant to portray the image of a God.

He stood atop the dais, the girl on her knees before him with blood dripping from her nose and looking too pale to be okay. The small tingle for the man's head suddenly felt so small to the screaming voice that begged me to help her. She felt so weak and so close to falling into a sleep that would last forever, yet she stared up at him entirely unafraid and fully prepared to keep fighting. Her heartbeat was strong, but her breathing was thin and her muscles too shaky to give much more strength. All the odds were against her and yet I believed that if whatever shadow wielding power the man had wasn't restraining her, she'd tear both him and Arkyn apart.

The man's voice was too quiet for my ears to hear, but whatever he said made even Arkyn flinch. That's when a wave of pure and unbridled power slammed into me. It was like being hit by a horse running full speed, only it made my nose bleed rather than throwing me against the wall and cracking my own skull. I've never felt sheer strength like that, not even with the Anevay. I'd say the name The Eternal seemed to make more sense, only it wasn't him who had broken free of restraints and had his hand outstretched toward the doors. It was her.