
I awoke just before sunrise, and after only a short while I abandoned my futile attempts to sleep again. It was for the best that I would not compete this day, as I had not rested well. My thoughts were churning like the icy mountain streams in the land of my birth, fed by snow-melt in the spring. I feared that the banks of my mind would be flooded if I remained by myself in the quiet. I rose and left my room to light the fire. In these dry climes, the early mornings were cold, even in the summer.
A fellow competitor, Rhea of the Golden Road team, had been attacked and nearly killed by a man in a mask. Reva had assured us that we would be safe during the Cerean Tournament; that it was forbidden to attack any of the contestants and that fairness in the games was sacred. She had been counting on that principle to keep Khalim safe, so that he and his god would not be at risk from the Ascended even after he made his presence known in the contest of magic. Now all the people of Phyreios knew his face and his name and what he could do.
Could I keep him safe? I was unable to protect Fearghus, all those months ago.
Continue reading “Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter IX”