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Reign of Ash (The Chosen Book 2) by Meg Anne (15)


CHAPTER 14

 

 

The feeling of falling was disorientating since she wasn’t actually moving at all. There was a part of Helena that could still sense her body standing in the clearing with her friends, and another that felt as though she was tumbling down a deep hole. Her conscious mind was being pulled into another reality while her body stayed in the physical world.

Helena took a moment to get her bearings once the whirling motion settled and she could reestablish the feeling of being still. A small gasp left her mouth as she identified her surroundings. The Triumvirate had pulled her into the chamber from her trial. She glanced down quickly and noticed she was no longer dressed in her traveling clothes, but was now wearing her simple tan trial gown instead. Confused, she spun in a slow circle, searching for anything that would give her an idea of why she was here.

There was no sign of the Triumvirate, so she was alone, at least for the moment. Without their guidance, she was uncertain what, exactly, she was supposed to do. The last time she was in this chamber, the room swirled with mist and her trial had begun. Helena hesitated for a moment, wondering if something similar would occur again. It did not. She had the feeling that the trio was testing her, and would not be remotely surprised to learn that they were playing an elaborate game. Growing annoyed, she let out a huff of breath and decided to investigate the chamber.

Once she lifted her foot to step forward, the chamber came to life around her. Gone were the smooth stone walls and in their place was a sprawling hillside that stretched out as far as she could see. Helena blinked and shaded her eyes; the bright sunlight blinding in its intensity after the relative darkness of the room. The scene was familiar but she was having difficulty placing it, as if it was a place she had been once long ago. There were no landmarks that she recognized, although there did seem to be some type of building far in the distance.

Left with no other option but to walk towards it, she did so tentatively. The scene rippled and changed, growing progressively more dark and stormy with each forward step she took. Helena couldn’t stop her little jump when the sky began to crackle with lightning and growl with thunder. The ominous backdrop was further intensified by the presence of roiling purple clouds in a starless navy sky.

She squinted up at the sky as she felt the first few drops fall from above. As the wetness met her skin, she was surprised to find it warm rather than icy. Touching her fingers to her face, she felt the thick liquid smear across her cheek. The fingers she pulled away were stained a deep red. It was not rain that fell from the sky but blood. Helena felt her stomach lurch in response to the realization but managed to keep walking, certain that whatever it was she was supposed to see would only be revealed if she continued with her search.

As she began to crest the hill, the blood-rain began to fall in earnest. Her hair was hanging limply where it was not already stuck to her face and neck. The plain garment she wore had turned crimson and was clinging to her damp skin. Helena wiped at her face once more, trying to keep the blood from dripping into her eyes and noticed that her fingers had curled into black claws. A deep sense of foreboding had her moving more cautiously, knowing that her claws only appeared when she felt threatened. That was when she saw the first of the bodies.

She was forcing herself to walk quickly now, trying hard not to linger and search the faces of the dead. It was an impossible feat. Each step showed her another person she recognized. Helena swallowed hard, trying to breathe through her mouth as the stench of decay caused her stomach to roll. Death was everywhere.

Helena was stumbling now, trying to scale a growing mound of bodies. A sea of familiar faces stared up at her, their eyes accusing in their vacancy. This was her fault they seemed to shout at her. She took another step and felt something roll and crack beneath her feet. Falling, she threw her arms out, trying to catch her balance. Her hand made contact with something soft and warm.

“No,” she moaned, already knowing what she would see when she moved her hand.

It was the final scene of her trial. The bodies of her friends twisted and broken beneath her feet. The sky thick with smoke and still raining both blood and fire. It was a slaughter.

Helena’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes starting to sting due to the smoke. It was becoming too much for her.

“Why are you showing me this?” she shouted angrily, feeling her power build in response to her distress.

The Triumvirate’s spectral voices greeted her then, speaking separately and all at once:

“Chosen One.”

“Vessel.”

“Mother of Spirit.”

“You have a choice before you.”

“Loyalty or love?”

“Mercy or vengeance?”

“Life or death?”

“The path you choose will decide our fate.”

“The fate of all the Chosen.”

The voices were indistinguishable, each picking up where the other ended, sometimes harmonizing in one richly layered voice.

“What will you choose?”

“You cannot choose both.”

“Your choice will be our salvation.”

“Or our demise.”

She could feel the brush of air against her ear as if the next words were being whispered straight into them by invisible lips.

“Know this: you require balance.”

“A tether to this world.”

“One to hold your soul in place.”

“The tether is fragile.”

“Stretched too far and ready to snap.”

Helena was shaking as they spoke, the words reverberating so that she could feel them with her entire body. They were deadly soft but crystal clear.

“Without the tether, you will fracture.”

“Eternally lost to the darkness.”

“No way to return.”

“The choice will be made for you.”

“You will damn us all.”

“See the cost of your choice.”

Helena shuddered as the bodies that had been still beneath her began to writhe and moan in misery. “You show me only one path!” she cried, as desperate for clarity as for the end of the vision. She was not sure how much longer she could stomach the sight of her friends’ decaying bodies. “What is the other future?”

“Unknown,” the trio hissed, the word echoing around her.

“What is the point then? You show me this but speak to me in riddles. You’re no help at all!” she roared. Her magic was swelling within her, responding to her strained nerves and emotions, yet trapped in her body as it had no focus for its release. She could see the sparks begin to form and leap on her skin, her body a conduit for the magic that was rising to dangerous levels.

The scene around her began to fade. As it did, Helena’s eyes looked up and noticed a small figure staring at her from one of the windows in the tower above her. She was too far away to make out the features but could not mistake the pale blonde hair that seemed to shine like starlight in the darkness. She felt her resolve strengthen. She may not have answers, but perhaps she had a focus after all.

 

 

The feeling of returning to her body was overwhelming. Her skin felt tight and itchy as if stretched too thin over a frame it no longer fit. She could only assume it was because of the growing tide of magic welling within her. The sparks that she witnessed in the vision were present here, her friends shouting out and trying to reach her once it was clear she was back among them.

Her entire body began to shake with the force of her restrained magic. It needed an outlet, but she knew that if she let it go, she could easily destroy everyone around her. Helena bit down on her lip, immediately tasting blood as she tried, unsuccessfully, to concentrate enough to ground her power. It was not enough; she simply didn’t have the control required to manage that much power. That was when she felt her knees buckle, her body starting to tumble to the ground.

With a roar, Ronan reached her, pulling her shaking body into his and taking the brunt of the fall. Her power snaked across his skin everywhere that it made contact with his. He grit his teeth against the assault of magic.

There was hardly time to see what was happening in the chaos around her. Miranda was hurling obscenities at the now-empty place the Triumvirate had been standing. Effie was snarling and muttering under her breath, tugging against the arm Darrin had banded about her waist. He was barely holding her back from launching herself at her grandmother. Kragen, Serena, Nial, and Micha all had weapons drawn and were forming a tight circle around Ronan and Helena. Timmins and Joquil were chanting something from just outside the formation, their hands beginning to glow with the combined force of whatever power they were calling forth.

It was Ronan’s terse words that brought her back to herself, “Ground it damn you.”

Helena was panting with the effort to push her magic back into her reservoir. It was fighting her, like a cornered animal that wanted to defend itself. She was pleading with it, begging it to calm down, but it would not listen. Her power had a mind of its own.

Ronan could sense what was going to happen before she did. Helena looked at him with pleading iridescent eyes.

“Do it,” he snapped harshly before shouting to the others, “Get down!”

Around her the others all dropped, not questioning the order.

Helena threw her head back and screamed, her power tearing up out of her body and launching itself into the sky in one solid beam of purple light. The beam began to arc and spiral until it finally burst and fell back in millions of sparkling pieces to the earth. It was both beautiful and terrifying. Unsure of what would happen once those fragments of power made contact, Helena held her breath. Her body was still trembling from the torrent of power, but she could feel what still lingered flowing back into the pool.

The first of the glowing motes touched the top of a charred tree. Helena sucked in a breath when the branches were illuminated with that same purple light. Almost immediately the tree began to swell and grow, small green leaves unfurling and then turning to luscious blooms. All around her, everywhere her magic made contact, it was the same. It would seem that her desire not to harm had her magic sending pure vitality into the land she had damaged so badly only days earlier.

She watched in mute amazement as the land came back to life around her. The places her magic did not touch were quickly concealed by vibrant green leaves that were growing to abnormally large sizes. She had thought the flowers in Bael were big before, but they were nothing compared to the melon-sized blooms that were popping up now.

Ronan slowly lifted his body off of hers, moving more quickly once it was clear that there was no danger. His look of surprise was so comical that Helena snickered and then began to laugh in earnest. He turned to her as if questioning her sanity, which only made her laugh harder. Realizing that she was laughing at him, he scowled at her and snapped, “Overcompensating much?”

Helena had tears streaming down her face from laughing so hard. Her stomach was sore from the force of it. It wasn’t that there was anything funny about what had happened, but the sheer absurdity of a warrior staring up at a flower like it was about to sprout fangs and attack had her snorting with hilarity.

Ronan let her fall to the dirt, feigning disgust while barely concealing his own relieved smile as he watched his Kiri rolling around on the ground. One by one, her friends slowly walked to stand around her, their faces shining with varying degrees of wonder and concern. As they took in the land around them, and her unharmed body, they relaxed until they too joined in.