Episode 5: A Lesson In Pain
Back to: A Mirror of Shadows
I woke to the sound of a bell that vibrated through the crystal walls and hummed its way through my aching bones. It wasn’t an unpleasant way to wake up, and if I hadn’t been immediately reminded of the fact that I was still a prisoner in some morbid game to the death, I might have cozied up in my blanket and let the gentle vibrations lull me back to sleep.
Unfortunately, the sight of my new uniforms lined up on hooks behind the door was enough to kick-start my pulse all over again.
I pushed upright, every muscle aching. The fake bruises Slate’s potion had conjured the day before were already fading to a dull yellow, but my body still felt wrecked from the stress and tension of the past couple of days. Sleep hadn’t helped. If anything, it made the exhaustion settle deeper, heavy as the amethyst walls around me.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and stretched.
A faint violet glow seeped through the window cut into the crystal wall, casting fractured light across the room. The false sky outside was beginning to shift as night was replaced by a golden haze that pretended to be a sunrise. It was beautiful. A stark contrast to the reality of this place, but one that brought me at least some level of comfort.
Nothing as beautiful as freedom, but a thousand times better than the dungeons any day.
I quickly splashed water on my face and slicked down my unruly waves, coaxing them into two thick braids that fell across each shoulder.
Last night, after crying my eyes out, I’d cleaned up and met Calli for a flavorless meat-and-potatoes kind of dinner and then got fitted for my uniform. Apparently, we’d be required to match during training.
They’d taken my dirty, ripped clothing and assigned me two sets of sleeping clothes, one set of what they called “off-duty” clothes, and five sets of identical uniforms.
I pulled one on now. Fitted black trousers, a sleeveless form-fitting shirt edged in violet thread with an amethyst crescent moon embroidered over the mark on my chest, and a light armor harness made of flexible crystal plates. I fastened the buckles of the harness and laced up the sturdy black boots that had also been assigned to me last night.
The mirror in this room wasn’t full length, but standing far enough back from it, I got a pretty good sense of how I looked.
Strong. More confident than I felt. Maybe I’d be okay after all.
Footsteps sounded outside my door, followed by Calli’s voice. “You up?”
“Barely.”
“Slate’s already waiting for us. Brim said he doesn’t look happy.”
I stepped onto the terrace, stomach alive with butterflies.
“Does he ever?”
Calli laughed and fell into step beside me. Her wild pink hair was tamed into two tight buns just above her ears. The violet threads of her crescent moon mark shimmered in sync with mine, a reminder that no matter what we thought of him, we all belonged to Slate now.
The air grew warmer as we followed the Sentinels toward our new training grounds. The bell I’d heard earlier reverberated again through the amethyst all around us. There was something comforting about the hum of it.
At the final turn, the corridor opened onto a vast terrace overlooking the lower cliffs. The view stopped me cold.
An entire obstacle course sprawled below, carved into glowing crystal. There were rings for combat, shifting platforms suspended by invisible magic, mirrored tunnels that twisted like serpents through the stone.
Slate stood at the center of the landing, still as a statue, hands clasped behind his back. His black uniform gleamed like obsidian in the dawn’s light.
The moment he turned toward us, the mark under my skin flared with heat.
“Line up.”
Brim narrowed his eyes at me as I stepped up next to him. Less than half his size, he towered over me. I prayed we wouldn’t be sparring today.
Orion stood on the other side of Brim, and he gave a slow tilt of his head when I looked his way. We hadn’t had any time to speak, but he seemed nice enough. Quiet.
Elara joined us last, practically skipping in like a child ready for her first day of Kindergarten.
“Today,” Slate said, voice carrying effortlessly across the training area, “you’ll be evaluated for the basics.”
He paused just long enough for the silence to flip my stomach with nerves.
“Fail to live up to my expectations, and you’ll eat last, sleep last, and be the first here at training every day until you do.”
A ripple of unease passed through the group. My pulse hammered in my throat. I had no idea what this day would hold, but one thing felt certain. By the time this training ended, I’d either be stronger, or I’d be dead.
Slate didn’t wait to explain. He simply turned and started down the stairs toward the training area. We followed in silence, the faint hum of the Shard vibrating underfoot like a living heartbeat. Magic was palpable here. Like it was alive all around us. Vibrating through my veins.
I’d never felt anything like it before. Was it coming from the crystals? Or something else? It certainly wasn’t coming from inside me. I’d never been very strong with magic, but hopefully I’d be strong enough to make it through whatever today’s first challenge would be.
When we reached the arena ground, the space stretched wider than it had looked from above. Slate led us to the far edge of the space where columns of violet stone jutted from the ground, slick with condensation, rising into the sky. Suspended bridges and platforms of glowing glass moved between each of the pillars, swaying slightly even though there was no wind.
Slate stopped at the edge. “Your first test is one of endurance,” he said, his tone almost casual. “Without it, you’re dead before the first Game begins.”
He faced us, silver eyes catching the false dawn. “You’ll climb. You’ll cross. You’ll fall. And then you’ll start again until you don’t.”
Great. So today would be a lesson in pain.
“Nothing I demand of you today will be easy, but I expect you to give it everything you have.”
A shimmer rippled through the air. The bridges twisted like snakes, columns shifting position with a grinding sound. My stomach dropped.
“Begin.”
No warning. No countdown. Just action.
Calli launched forward first, climbing one of the lower pillars with inhuman speed, her boots squeaking where they hit the slick stone. Brim took the gap in a hard, solid leap. Elara’s movements were slower but elegant. She practically danced across the platforms.
Orion took a moment to study the motion of the platforms as they moved, then he followed her up, every step methodical, as if he were doing math equations in his head to find the most efficient spot to place his foot.
I hesitated one heartbeat too long, unsure if I could even climb these towers. The mark beneath my skin flared, a pulse of burning heat that stole my breath.
“Move,” Slate barked.
I winced, realizing his previous threat about the mark making sure we obeyed was more than just a threat.
I moved.
The first pillar was slicker than it looked, warm and humming with energy. My fingers slipped once, catching on a jagged edge that tore open my palm. Blood made my hands slip a few times, but I kept climbing. The platform above shifted, forcing me to lunge for a handhold before it pulled away entirely.
Below, Slate watched, arms folded. His expression was completely unreadable. Stoic. At least he didn’t look angry yet. That was something.
By the time I reached the first bridge, my arms trembled. This would have been hard enough if the dang platforms stayed in one place, but all this movement was killing me. A pulse of power rippled through the bridge. My balance faltered, and I dropped to one knee just as Brim landed on the other end with a solid thud.
He watched me steady myself, eyes flat, but didn’t say a word. Why did he always look like he hated me? Weren’t we on the same team here?
I clenched my teeth and pushed forward, ignoring the ache in my muscles. Halfway across, the bridge twisted sharply. I cried out and grabbed for the edge, hanging by one arm as violet light flared all around me.
Slate’s voice carried up from below. “If you fall, you start again.”
The glass bit into my fingers. Every instinct screamed to let go, to make it stop. But I didn’t. I hauled myself up inch by inch until I reached the far side, collapsing onto the crystal ledge. My palms were raw. My lungs felt like fire.
Behind me, the faintest hint of motion. Slate had stepped onto one bridge himself, moving with fluid, terrifying grace. He didn’t even look down. He passed me, reaching the highest platform before anyone else, arms folded again, surveying us like pieces on a chessboard.
“Faster,” he said.
I gritted my teeth and kept climbing, each step a small eternity. The others slowed, even Brim’s breathing growing ragged. The only person who’d reached the end without looking winded was Orion, the oldest of the group. I wasn’t sure how he’d done it. He had nowhere near the strength of someone like Brim.
By the time I stumbled onto the final platform, I was drenched in sweat. The world tilted at the edges, my vision going dark.
Slate’s gaze found mine across the distance. I’d made it without falling, but he wasn’t about to give me any praise.
“Again,” he said, motioning toward the start of the course.
He turned away, and I collapsed to my knees, gasping. It had taken me over an hour to reach the last platform, and I’d used every bit of my strength. I wasn’t sure I could do it again without falling.
Calli appeared beside me. “You okay?”
I nodded, lying. I didn’t feel okay at all. My hands shook, blood running down my wrist.
Calli reached down for my hand. “Let’s go again. Together.”
I took several steadying breaths and grabbed her hand, struggling to stand up as we made our way back to the starting point.
I nearly cried as I looked up at the first pillar again. Had it been this tall before?
“Come on. Don’t give him the satisfaction of watching you fail. You’re stronger than you think.”
I glanced at her bandaged knuckles and nodded, swallowing the burn in my throat. “Together,” I said, even though I knew her encouragement would only get me so far.
I had to do this on my own, or I’d bring the whole team down with me.
We hit the first pillar again. The crystal felt hotter now, like Slate had turned up something inside it just to spite us. I climbed anyway. My arms shook, and sweat stung my eyes. The bridge bucked once beneath my boots, and I caught myself with a strangled sound I prayed no one heard.
Brim’s voice slid in, quiet and cold. “Can’t expect a thief like you to last long up here.”
“What did you call me?” I had to catch my breath once I reached the platform, but his words chilled me to the core.
Earlier, in the scarf game, Brim had asked me if I remembered him.
At the time, I thought he had mistaken me for someone else. I was certain I would have remembered him if we’d ever come across each other before.
But now, he’d called me a thief.
Not exactly a title I was proud of, but one that showed he really did know something about me. Every single job I’d done for the Order of Shadows had involved me stealing something for them.
How did he know that?
The mark beneath my collarbone burned like an ember. I choked, gasping for breath. The pain wasn’t just skin-deep. It bored straight through bone, a bright, punishing thread that demanded movement.
Slate didn’t have to say a word. The mark followed his silent commands, and each time he used it to punish me, the anger inside me rose like a bonfire of flame.
I used that anger as fuel to keep going, determined to prove myself.
By midday, I’d lost count of how many times I’d fallen and started again. The first time I missed the ledge, I hit a lower platform hard enough to crack my teeth together. The second time, I caught the bridge and dangled there by one arm until my vision sparked and I had to let go. Another time, I landed on my back and lay there staring up at the mirrored sky listening to the sound of Slate’s footsteps approaching.
“On your feet.”
It took strength I never dreamed I had to obey that command, but I did it, heading back to the starting line yet again.
We broke only long enough to choke down water that tasted like old coins. The Sentinels watched us with bored eyes, hands resting on the hilts of their blades.
Brim stood apart, knuckles whitening and releasing, eyes on the course, as if he couldn’t wait to get back to it. To prove himself.
“Next,” Slate said. “We’ll test your control.”
He led us to a ring cut into the crystal. In the center of the ring, a large amethyst stone sat atop a crystal pillar about waist-high. As we stepped inside the circle, the air around us hummed. It felt like standing on the edge of a storm that was about to break.
“You’ll stand on the outer boundary,” Slate said, “and channel a sustained thread of power through the center stone. Not a blast. Not a spark. A thread. If you’re doing it right, the stone will light up like a lamppost. Your job is to keep the light as steady as possible. Lose the thread, you start again. Lash out, you start again. Hesitate—” His gaze settled on me. “—and you’ll be punished.”
Brim stepped into the ring first, jaw set. Power radiated from him in a steady stream that lit the target stone and held. No flourish. No smile. Just pure confidence and power. He made it look easy.
Elara followed, a wild smile on her face as she sliced a small spot on her palm with a jagged fingernail. She effortlessly sent a line of red light singing from her fingertips to the stone. There was no doubt she had control of her magic.
Orion, who I’d barely had five seconds to introduce myself to, went next. He took two deep breaths and then easily channeled into the stone, its light bright but steady.
I needed to corner him later and find out what his secret was, because he’d barely exerted himself all day.
Calli had to start over a handful of times, but eventually, her magic pulsed through the target stone with a stream of light that wavered a bit but stayed steady enough.
When it was my turn, my nerves were frayed. I had stealth magic, but creating a thread of light and sending it toward some target? I had no idea how to even do that.
“Begin,” Slate said.
I inhaled, reached for the quiet place inside me where magic used to sit when the world made sense, and found nothing but noise. The hum from the Shard vibrated through my spine. Slate’s presence pressed at the edges of my mind like a distraction I couldn’t block out. I could feel Brim’s hateful eyes on my back, willing me to mess this up.
No matter how hard I tried, nothing happened.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I said, the words slipping out as an angry whisper. “I’ve never cast magic like this before.”
Slate exhaled sharply through his nose. I braced for the burn of the mark.
Instead, he crossed the crystal surface until he was standing right in front of me.
The air thickened instantly, and I had to fight for any semblance of calm. How was he so damn capable of taking my breath away at any moment?
I hated him.
He didn’t touch me at first. Just studied me with that calm, unreadable gaze that somehow saw too much. I wasn’t sure if he was planning to punish me or lift me up and throw me into the endless abyss.
Instead, he reached up and slowly adjusted the position of my palms.
“Your magic isn’t in your hands.” His voice was low, rough at the edges. “It’s inside the core of your body, but you’re holding back. You have to connect to it with your mind and let it flow.”
“I don’t—”
“Breathe,” he said, cutting me off. “Don’t think or try to make it happen. Just take deep breaths and let the breath connect to the source of power in your center.”
His fingers brushed mine as he turned my palms outward. The contact was nothing, barely a touch through his gloves, but it felt like striking flint. Heat raced through my arms, through the mark, coiling tight in my chest.
Something about that worked, though, and I suddenly gasped as a wellspring of power deep in the center of my body sparked to life.
“Now,” he said calmly. “Focus that spark into a small thread of light. Visualize it until it appears.”
The hum in the air aligned with the pulse under my skin. A thread of light jumped to life at my fingertips. It was wild, flickering like a candle in a storm, but it was real. I laughed in awe, hardly believing I’d created this myself.
But the moment I laughed, the spark dashed toward the target like a lightning bolt.
I stumbled a half-step back, dizzy from the sudden rush.
Slate caught me against his chest, gripping my arms. His touch seared through his glove, the mark under my skin flaring bright.
“Not like that,” he said, close enough that his breath stirred the hair at my temple.
His body heat surrounded me, and my head swam with dizziness. Maybe it was just the first touches of real power inside myself, or maybe it was the feel of him against me. I could hardly think straight.
“Give yourself over to your power,” he said. “You’ve been holding back your whole life. Let it flow. Learn to tap into it, and then control it.”
It took several deep breaths to steady my heart rate, but when I did, the thread formed, thin and trembling as it reached the stone in the center of the ring.
For one impossible moment, it held steady. I’d never felt so connected to the magic inside me. Pride bloomed in my chest, and my eyes filled with tears.
The light brightened, overloading as it flashed outward, no longer just at thin thread. Panicked, I dropped my hands and released the connection to that magic inside me.
Slate stepped back as if he’d been burned. Maybe he had. His eyes lifted from my hand to my face, a muscle tensing in his jaw as our eyes met for the briefest moment.
“Again,” he said, voice rougher than before. “Until it learns to obey you, not the other way around.”
By late afternoon, my hands bled, and every muscle screamed in agony.
The sun-that-wasn’t really a sun set itself to amber behind the mirrored dome. Shadows lengthened, and the Sentinels lit orbs around the arena that floated to their posts and held.
“Enough,” Slate said after several more hours of work, his voice echoing across the platforms. “Form up.”
It took me two tries to stand. We gathered near the lowest ring, a half-circle of sweat, blood, and stubbornness. My mouth was bone dry, and my stomach rumbled from hunger.
Please let us be done for the day.
I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
A small figure in a grey dress practically floated across the floor, weaving past the Sentinels with the confidence of someone who knew she was needed. Lavender’s satchel clinked with glass as she approached.
She took one look at my hands and nodded.
“The wounds of someone who refuses to give up,” she said with a smile, already uncorking a vial.
She poured a thin, cool line of potion along my worst cut. It fizzed, then sank, leaving a tight, new-formed scar. Before I could thank her, Slate’s shadow cut across us. Lavender went still, eyes lifting to his, filled with respect, but not fear.
“Warden,” she said.
“Lavender.”
I had the sudden feeling they knew each other well. That they shared secrets no one else was meant to know.
He didn’t look at her for long. Instead, his attention locked on us, and everything in me tried to shrink.
“This was day one,” he said. “You survived the first tests. Barely.”
A few of the team straightened reflexively. Brim rolled his shoulders like he was angry to not receive praise for his work today.
“I know most of you have no idea how this works, so I’ll do my best to explain what we’re up against. The hierarchy of the Shard is simple,” Slate said. “The Regent rules the city according to the Amethyst Priestess’s will. I command this team. My job is to train you to be warriors who will honor the Shard with your effort. Every dawn, we’ll test endurance. Midday: control. Dusk tomorrow, we’ll begin combat training. Your performances are recorded, and favor accrues to those who rise. Favor means extra food, medicine. More freedom in and around the Shard.”
“And those who fall?” I asked.
“You’ll either learn and get stronger, or you’ll die. There are plenty of Condemned who would gladly take your place.”
He let that sit for a minute, and as much as I wanted to tell him I’d gladly trade places, I kept my mouth closed.
“At the end of our training month, there will be an exhibition. The first of the real Shadow Games,” he said. “We will compete against the five other teams currently training in the Amethyst Shard in a series of games to determine the strongest, most capable team.”
Brim lifted his chin, eyes bright with challenge. “And if we win?”
“Then we go to the main arena to compete against the top teams from the other kingdoms.”
Nervous energy fluttered through my stomach. So there were other Priestesses represented here in the Shard.
“And if we win that?” Elara asked.
Slate’s mouth ticked. Something that wasn’t a smile. “Let’s focus on getting past the Amethyst Games first. Then we’ll see.”
Lavender had finished with the last of our group, but before she left, she hesitated at my shoulder, then pressed a small cloth-wrapped packet into my palm without looking at Slate.
“For your grip,” she whispered. “Smear across your fingers before you climb. It’ll sting.”
“Thank you,” I whispered back.
Slate dismissed us with a nod. The Sentinels fell into motion, clearing the orbs, resetting the bridges for morning like this was just any other day that had chewed us up and spit us out.
We ate dinner silently as a group, everyone too hungry and tired to talk. Afterward, I made it as far as the barracks before my legs forgot how to be legs. Calli caught my elbow and steered me to my door.
“Tomorrow,” she said softly.
“Tomorrow,” I agreed, though everything in me wanted to say never again.
Inside, the room held onto the day’s heat. I peeled off the harness and let it drop to the chair. My hands shook as I opened Lavender’s packet. The salve inside smelled like crushed mint and scorched sugar.
I didn’t know why she was helping me, but I was grateful for it. If this made tomorrow easier, that would be a godsend.
My bed called to me, but first, I walked to the narrow window cut into the crystal wall as the false night settled across the Shard. The sky shimmered in layers of violet and gold, reflections folding into reflections until I couldn’t tell what was real anymore.
Far across the terrace, a single figure still moved in the training ring. His moves precise. Relentless.
Slate was running through the obstacles with lightning speed, pushing himself harder at every turn.
I hadn’t even realized the training ground was visible from my room, but I watched him now, my breath shallow at the sight of him.
Shirtless, skin marked in scars that caught the silver-violet light beneath the dome as he moved, his body carried a dark rhythm of power. Every strike and pivot carried the same control he demanded of us, yet there was something almost desperate about it. Like he was chasing something he couldn’t have.
Who was he really?
He was hardened and cold. Heartless by all accounts.
And yet, he’d spared me from punishment when he could have killed me.
The same hands that had burned me with pain had also steadied me in the control challenge. The same voice that ordered me to bleed had also encouraged me to slow down and breathe. Had helped me find the edge of my true power for the first time in my life.
He’d believed in me.
I hated the way my chest tightened at the memory. The way the world had narrowed to his body next to mine. For that one moment, he hadn’t felt like my captor. He’d felt like someone who understood me in a way I didn’t understand myself.
I pressed my forehead to the cool crystal, remembering the thread of light that had flared to life between us.
I watched him a little longer and then finally turned from the window, letting darkness swallow the last of the evening’s light.