Lucia could always convince her father. Not with sweet words, but with that look she gave him a firm, sharp, like she was made of something older than her age. The kind of look that made you believe she could bend time if she wanted to.
So, she stayed. A whole week. And it felt like one long moment stretched out across the sky.
That first night, we chased a silver-winged moth barefoot down the palace halls. The servants scolded. The guards sighed. But we just laughed. When Lucia was near, the world felt like it belonged to us.
But time's funny like that. It gives you warmth, then rips the blanket off.
By the third night, something shifted. I felt it the moment Lucia shook me awake.
"Joselyn," she whispered harshly, breath warm against my cheek. "Wake up."
I blinked up at her. My body heavy with sleep. "What… what's wrong?"
She leaned close. Her hair was messy and her eyes alive with something more than just excitement. "I heard your cousins. In the hall. They're going to a tournament. Tonight. It's real. The Ironclad Tournament."
I sat up, squinting. "That's not in Paradise, is it?"
"No. Outside the walls. Some old village in the outskirts. They said fighters from all over Eryndrallis sneak in. People with Blessings. The best of the worst."
Her voice was almost trembling with wonder.
I rubbed my face. "You're not thinking of going."
Lucia's grin spread slowly. "Already stole a horse."
"You what!?"
"Don't yell," she whispered, dragging the blanket off me. "We'll be back before dawn. C'mon. Don't make me go alone."
I groaned and muttered every curse I knew under my breath. But I followed her.
We crept like thieves through the moon-drenched halls. Her hand gripped mine tightly, and I didn't let go. The guards looked half-asleep, the torches barely flickering. No one stopped us. Not even the night.
The horse waited near the stables, pawing at the dirt.
"You bribed someone?" I asked.
She pulled a sapphire from her sleeve. "My father won't miss it."
"You're terrifying," I mumbled.
"You'd still be friends with me." She said with a cheeky grin.
***
We rode silently beneath a sky heavy with stars. The walls of Paradise vanished behind us, swallowed by trees and night winds. The fields opened wide like an endless breath.
Then Lucia pulled the reins and brought the horse to a halt.
"Wait," she whispered.
Before us, the hills were flooded in moonlight. Fields of wildflowers stretched in every direction, bathed in silver. Each petal shimmered with dew. They looked… alive.
Lucia dismounted and stepped into the flowers, brushing them with her fingers.
"They're glowing," she said. "Like they're on fire from the inside."
I slid off the horse and stood beside her.
"Maybe flowers grow like this to remind us that not everything dies when war passes through," she said, almost to herself. "They survive. And they shine anyway."
I didn't say anything. It was best for me to let her think. After all, I know she wants to relinquish her royalty to live in Paradise.
We stood in the silence for a long time.
Then, wordlessly, we rode on.The Ironclad Tournament wasn't a place. It was a wound in the earth.
The abandoned village looked long dead. Roofs half-collapsed, beams scorched and blackened, windows shattered. A bonfire blazed in the center of the ruins, casting orange light across a gathering of outcasts and killers.
Some wore bone armor. Others were wrapped in chains. Blood stained the dirt. Laughter rang out, drunk and mean.
Lucia's hand found mine again.
"This is worse than I imagined," I whispered.
"And better," she murmured.
We watched from the edge as warriors brawled in a pit of dust and gravel. A man in red plate crushed his opponent's helmet with a single swing of a hammer. The crowd screamed for more.
That's when it happened.
A hand grabbed my shoulder.
"Hey! Well, well, well…" a man slurred. "I know you. You're that flower brat. The one from the palace."
I turned, heart leaping. The man towered over me. Yellow teeth. Scarred lip. Eyes glassy with drink.
"I'm just watching," I said quickly.
"Nah. Nah, you don't get to watch here." He shoved me. "Little royals don't belong outside their gardens."
Lucia stepped forward. "Back off. He's a kid!"
But it was too late.
Two men grabbed my arms and hurled me toward the pit. My back slammed against the dirt. Dust flew up around me. My ribs screamed.
"Joselyn!" Lucia shouted.
The crowd roared, half cheering, half laughing.
I scrambled to my knees, breath ragged. A bell rang somewhere. The next fighter was coming.
But this wasn't a fighter.
It was a monster.
Its limbs twitched like snapped twigs. Its legs bent like those of a deer, but wrong. Backward. Its arms dragged the ground, knuckles cracked and bloody. Its chest looked hollow, ribs open like a cage. And its face…
It didn't have one.
Just a stretched hole. A black void that breathed in long, humming gasps.
A Shadrith.
"No—no no no—" I whispered, crawling back.
The crowd laughed. "Go on, flower prince! Show us what you've got!"
Lucia was screaming. "Stop! He's twelve! You bastards—stop!"
She didn't hesitate. She jumped.
The moment her feet hit the pit floor, she ran to me and put her arms wide between me and the creature.
"You have to get up!" she shouted.
But I couldn't move. I couldn't even feel my legs. My heart had climbed into my throat and refused to come down.
The Shadrith stepped forward, slow and hungry.
Its body hissed with tension.
It lunged.
Lucia screamed.
And something inside me shattered.
My body didn't wait for permission. My limbs screamed to life. Something warm ignited in my veins, and time cracked in half.
The creature's claws moved through molasses.
I moved.
I stepped forward and caught its arm with both hands. Bones shifted under my grip.
I felt power bloom. Not like sunlight. Like fire. Like a star finally remembering it used to burn.
With a roar that didn't sound like mine, I threw the Shadrith across the pit.
It hit the wall. Bones split. Flesh tore.
Silence.
Only the sound of it crumbling as it hit the ground. What was once a terror became a heap of broken limbs.
The crowd didn't cheer. Not at first.
They stared.
Lucia turned, mouth trembling. "Joselyn… you…"
I looked at my hands. My fingers glowed faintly red. Not with blood, but something deeper.
A shimmer. A heat.
A Blessing.
A Falling Star Blessing.
The crowd erupted behind us. A tidal wave of voices.
But all I could hear was my breathing. My heart was still racing. My eyes still locked on where the creature had fallen.
And I realized…
I wasn't afraid anymore.