Oh, Asha.
How can you be like our grandfather?
You hated him, and now you are his reflection.
I squeeze my fingers into fists, hating that reflection. Hating that she has chosen to embrace the dusk instead of the dawn. Darkness instead of light. Evil instead of goodness. Power instead of meekness.
The morning air prickles at my skin as I shed my nightclothes and move to the basin. As I wash, my thoughts drift to Asha again—to the bond we once shared.
I dry off and pull on a clean surcoat and dark pants.
How did we come to this?
I long for the days when we were inseparable, when the world was bright with possibility and our love for each other was unshakable.
Now, as I tie my belt, I feel the sadness of all that’s been lost. Asha’s path has led her to a place I cannot follow. Nor do I want to.
As I turn to grab my seashell necklace, Aleksander’s voice echoes in my ears.“Annora, listen to me.”
I clench my jaw and imagine that invisible wall again—the one that shuts him out—and his voice fades.
Jasce had increased the number of flowers he’s giving Aleksander. Yet, Aleksander is still managing to break through.
How?
“Annora...”His voice scratches at my mind again.
I drop the necklace and press my palms against my ears, but it does nothing. His voice comes from inside, burrowing deeper with each whispered word.
If only I could rip this bond from my soul, tear it out like a weed from a garden, but it’s buried too deep.
I grab my charcoal and parchment, desperate to focus on something else, but the stick snaps between my fingers, and black dust sprinkles across the blank page.
“I know you can hear me, Annora...”
No!
Shut up!
I need air. Need to escape his voice.
I burst outside and nearly collide with a passing warrior.
“My Lady,” he says as he reaches out to steady me.
I shake my head, unable to form words as I hurry away, needing distance from this camp, needing to breathe, to think.
Dust kicks into the air as I head for the horse corral.
“Annora, wait.” Jasce’s voice cuts through the haze, but I don’t turn around.
I swallow. “Ineedto ride.”
“Then, I’ll go with you,” Jasce says as he reaches for his saddle. “Wherever you need to go, I’ll be right there with you.”
We mount our horses, and Jasce leads us to a secluded valley, where jagged cliffs rise on either side, their faces striped with layers of rust and amber stone. A thin ribbon of green follows the path of a nearly dried-up stream at the valley floor. Shadows pool in the deeper crevices, creating patterns that remind me of the charcoal sketches I like to draw.
I halt my horse at the valley’s edge, drinking in the raw beauty of this desolate place. The vastness makes me feel small, insignificant, and somehow that’s comforting, as if merely being here makes all the darkness inside me shrink.
