#####Chapter 6

Mia washed her hands in the cold stream behind the barracks, scrubbing until the blood was gone but she couldn’t scrub out the shaking. Her reflection in the water showed Clinton's face: sharp-jawed, hollow-eyed, streaked with dirt and sweat. But behind it, Mia glared back.

She didn’t flinch when the footsteps came.

She knew them.

“I said get off him,” Kelvin’s voice snapped behind her.

She didn’t turn around.

“You had no right to interfere,” she said quietly.

He stepped beside her. “You were going to kill him, Clinton.”

“Good.”

Kelvin looked at her, stunned. “You’re not even trying to hide it anymore, are you?”

Mia turned now, slowly. Her eyes were tired, but beneath them blazed the same cold fury that had filled the arena.

“This is a competition,” she said. “They said I could kill them if I wanted to. If I hadn’t stopped myself, I would’ve carved every pride from his skin.”

Kelvin stared at her, jaw working like he couldn’t decide whether to yell or to soften.

Then he leaned closer.

“I don’t know who hurt you,” he said, “but the way you fight… it’s not about victory. It’s about vengeance.”

Mia’s eyes flashed. “Maybe they’re the same thing.”

His voice dropped. “And maybe that’s why you’ll lose.”

That stung more than a punch.

She stepped forward. “You don’t know me.”

Kelvin’s eyes narrowed. “No. I don’t. But I want to.”

Something cracked between them not like a break, but like a strike of flint on stone.

He looked at her longer than he should have. Too long for two supposed male warriors.

Then he tore his eyes away.

“Watch yourself,” he muttered. “There are people watching. And you’re drawing too much attention.”

He left without waiting for a reply.

Mia’s fists clenched at her sides.

Too much attention. That was the point.

Later that evening, whispers stirred the camp like wind through trees.

“Clinton Roy went mad.”

“He almost killed one of the guards.”

“They’re saying he’s not right in the head.”

“They’re saying he’s something else entirely.”

Mia sat alone near the bonfire, sharpening her blade with short, practiced strokes. She didn’t look up when Raven dropped beside her.

“You know,” he said with that lopsided grin, “for someone trying to hide, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Raven was like a shadow no one knew coming. He had followed Mia for a long time since childhood. He felt drawn to her for some reason. And Mia just suspected maybe he was her guardian angel her late mother sent for her. And so when Raven found out about Mia she was never really surprised.

“I’m not hiding,” she murmured.

“Right,” he said, watching her face. “But maybe… Now's the time to remember that you’re not alone.”

Mia’s hand stilled.

Raven looked serious now. “Whatever that was today–it caved attention from people. But not me. You know why?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Because I’ve seen what you’re like when you break. You don’t lose control. You take control. So whatever comes next, don’t let them twist the story. You’re not crazy. You’re not unstable. You’re just finally being seen.”

She blinked.

Then nodded once. How Raven got into the palace or how he found her never really bothered her.

And Raven nodded back, before rising and slipping into the night.

Meanwhile, in the shadows of the High Council chambers, High Seer Gwi sat before a flickering fire. His bones ached. The vision had returned.

The girl born of blood and shadow. The heir beneath the false moon. The crown split in two one half forged in vengeance, the other in love.

His old fingers curled tighter around the staff. “It’s almost time,” he whispered. “Let the masks fall.”

The next morning brought a different kind of trial.

Trial Three: The Maze of the Mind.

Unlike the bloodshed of the ring, this test was a battle of wit, memory, and strategy. The candidates would be blindfolded and placed in the ancient stone maze of Snow Pack once used to test warriors’ inner balance.

Those who failed would not die.

But they’d emerge broken.

The maze showed you your fears.

Mia stood at the edge, blindfold in hand.

Jayson moved beside her.

“You good?” he asked quietly.

She hesitated.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“I’ll find you in there,” he said. “No matter what the maze throws at us.”

“You won’t be able to. Everyone’s separated.”

He smiled slightly. “I don’t need sight to find you.”

She looked away before he could see the way her lips trembled.

The horn blew.

The candidates stepped into the darkness.

The maze closed behind her like a tomb.

The first thing Mia noticed was the silence. Not the silence of peace but the silence of breath held too long.

Then came the whispers.

At first faint.

Then louder.

"She screamed your name."

"You didn’t save her."

"You’ll die like she did. Alone."

Mia forced her feet forward.

The walls shifted.

She saw a reflection not Clinton, but Mia, bleeding, broken, chained.

She tried to push it away.

Then came the worst vision.

Her mother, standing in the snow.

“Why didn’t you stop them, Mia?”

“I was ten—”

“You were mine.”

Mia sank to her knees, hands to her head.

This is not real. This is not real.

Then another figure appeared from the shadows.

Not a vision.

Kelvin.

Not blindfolded. Not trembling.

Real.

He crouched beside her, steady, calm.

“You’re in the worst part,” he said. “It’s where the maze feeds on your guilt. I’ve been here.”

“How did you find me?” she gasped.

“I don’t know. I just… did.”

He looked at her face. Saw her. Not Clinton. Not the mask. Just her.

And for one terrifying moment, she thought

He knows.

He didn’t say anything.

Just held out a hand.

“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s get out of this.”

She took it.

And then she emerged. She realized Kelvin had saved her but he wasn't real either. Him, from the maze, saved her.