Chapter 86 The Trophy pt1
“Well, we’re dead,” Malachi chuckles, hands resting on the back of his head as he stares into the pitch-black abyss before us. The void stretches endlessly, swallowing any hope we might have had.
I step up to the sheer edge of the cliff, my heart clenching. The chasm below is an endless drop into darkness, so deep that the bottom is hidden from view. Across the crevasse, a faint light flickers, taunting us with its promise of safety. But between here and there lies nothing but a gaping maw of complete darkness, an impossible distance.
I look up, straining to see any sign of a ceiling, but there's only an impenetrable black void. From side to side, the cavern walls are slick and sheer, offering no handholds, no way to climb across. The vastness of it all is overwhelming. We've reached a precipice that defies logic, an edge impossible to cross, impossible to climb, impossible to fly over.
Despair settles in, heavy and suffocating, as I realize the true extent of our predicament.
“We can’t have made it all this way for no reason,” Slyvain whimpers. She’s gripping Oberon’s arm for support, leaning against him as tears she tries not to shed well in her eyes. “There’s no other way…there's nothing else.”
“Zaries?” I whisper, stepping close enough to him that our knuckles brush.
“I don’t know,” he says with a sigh.
“There’s got to be a way,” I say, determined. “Everything we’ve faced so far seemed impossible to get through, but we have. There’s a way. I know it. We just have to think of it.”
Oberon sighs, but doesn’t say anything. He’s scanning the endless nothing beneath us, the ceiling that may as well not exist, the smooth sides that faintly reflect our dismayed expressions.
“What have we faced so far?” I ask, turning to the rest of our group. “What powers have we used to get to this place?”
“Alric’s wind, Sylvain’s poison,” Malachi mutters.
“Our shadows, Anara. We just used those to escape,” Oberon adds.
“That leaves fire and metal, right? There’s no fire here, so…” my eyes trail back to Zaries. “What would Steel do?”
Slowly, Zaries takes a knee on the edge of the cliff and looks at the sheer rock face, his eyes scanning the jagged surface with intense focus. The cool air brushes against our faces, carrying the scent of damp stone and metal.
“I sense metals here…but I’m not sure, I—”
“Just try, alright?” I lay my hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles. I'm trying to instill him with all the bravery I know he has inside him. “That's all we can do. Keep trying.”
Zaries pinches his eyes shut, his fingers digging into the flaky rock beneath his hands, his knuckles whitening. “Yes…yes! There’s not much, but there should be enough.”
His face tightens, brows drawing together in concentration. The veins on his temple pulse visibly as a small platform of metal begins to coalesce, shimmering in the dim light. It stretches across the abyss, inch by painstaking inch, a fragile bridge to hope.
“That’s not even thick enough for one foot!” Malachi shouts, storming up to the edge in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“It will have to do,” Oberon mutters, taking the first hesitant step on the steel beam that's slowly growing across the precipice. He alternates between looking down at his feet and up at his destination, his face white and tense.
“Never thought I’d be walking a tightrope like a court jester,” Sylvain chuckles. “Although my parents would be thrilled I found a fun way to live.”
“Let's make sure they’re proud, then,” Oberon says, reaching out and helping Sylvain on the beam. “Sylvain, the tightrope slayer.”
Slowly, carefully, they begin to move away, sliding one foot after the next.
I spare a glance at him, his face taut with concentration, and throw a warning glare at Malachi as I slide onto the beam myself. The metal wobbles under my weight, a treacherous lifeline suspended over the abyss. Behind me, Malachi steps on and I feel the beam strain, a shudder running through it.
I turn to see Zaries slowly standing, his eyes narrowed in determination as he steps onto the beam as well. With every step he takes, the beam disappears behind him, dissolving into thin air. Far ahead, it's connected to the other side, which seems to be the only thing keeping us steady besides Zaries’ steel will.
The going is painfully slow, the beam slightly angled up and far too smooth for comfort, every step a precarious dance with death. The only sound is the soft scuff of our boots against the metal and the distant, ominous echo of the abyss below.
No one says a word. We’re too focused on surviving. Too focused on our footing.
I take a second to glance away from the beam to gauge Oberon’s progress. He’s so close to the edge, so close to safety. His steps are deliberate, his face a mask of concentration, but the tension in his movements tells me he’s as scared as I am. The beam creaks under our combined weight, making sure we don’t forget that fear is well founded.
“You know what would suck?” Malachi says, his voice echoing off the enormous cavern. “If there were bats in here. That would be the absolute worst!” He shouts the last word, like the fucking asshole imbecile he is.
“Shut the fuck up you gods damned—” Zaries’ insult cuts off abruptly when a screech comes from somewhere beneath us.
“The wyverns…” I breathe in horror as a wind whips up from below, sending chills down my spine.
A scream shreds my throat as my feet slip. My body tilts.
And I fall.
My arms wave wildly, my hands grasp desperately. And my fingers latch onto the beam, jerking me to a halt.
I dangle over the dark abyss, my body suspended by sheer willpower and adrenaline. The wind howls around me, whipping my hair into a frenzy as the wyverns below screech and swoop, their leathery wings beating against the air. Their fierce eyes gleam in the dim light, their forms flickering with predatory intent.
“Malachi, you fucking idiot!” Oberon snarls.
He’s on the other side with Sylvain screaming and reaching for me with his arms.
“At least it’s not bats.” Malachi laughs as he steps over my fingers. “Have a good fall.” He says the last so quietly that only I hear him as he hurries away.
Desperate, I claw at the beam, seeking any purchase to anchor myself against the relentless force threatening to tear me away. My heart races, pounding like a drumbeat of panic, as I fight against the overwhelming urge to let go, to succumb to the inevitable fall.
“Anara!” Zaries roars, sliding on the beam until he reaches me. He straddles it, locking his legs as he reaches for me.
I grasp his arm and he yanks, but I’m too heavy. My armor is too thick, my blades too much. The wyverns are striking him, smashing into him and throwing him off balance.
“I won't let you fall!” he screams. Desperation makes his eyes wild and tears fall from his face and hit mine. I can practically see us falling in his eyes, but on a different cliff, on a different day, so very long ago.