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My senses, usually a gift, now felt like a curse, amplifying every detail, every sensation, making it all more intense.
The Supervisor’s voice, calm and even, broke through my whirlwind of emotions. “You stand accused, Ashale, of cheating. And here, in this prison, cheating is a very grave offense.”
* * *
“The second set of spirit animals,” the Supervisor began, his voice dripping with icy detachment, “they were not yours, were they?”
I could feel a pit forming in my stomach, a sensation like sinking into quicksand, pulling me deeper into the mire.
The very air of the room, once stagnant, now bore down on me, thickening with each passing moment.
Sneik’s smirk grew. “Well, Ashale?”
He leaned forward, eyes probing, searching for any hint of a reaction.
Memories of the fight came rushing back: the raw exhaustion, the fading strength, the despair that loomed large.
And then, just when all hope seemed lost, the surge of spirit animals, familiar yet foreign.
Nova’s animals.
Their presence had been a saving grace, an unexpected boon that had propelled me to victory.
“No,” I managed to croak, voice rough with emotion. “They were not mine.”
The room felt suddenly much smaller.
The distant hum of the machinery grew louder in my ears, the smell of old papers, of polished wood, and of Sneik’s cologne invaded my nostrils, making it hard to breathe.
The lights overhead, bright and glaring, seemed to pulse, every blink like a strobe, disorienting me.
“I thought as much,” the Supervisor declared, leaning back in his chair, his hands resting on the table. “You see, Ashale, there are rules, even in a place such as this.”
Sneik’s chuckle echoed in the confines of the office. “Did you really think we wouldn’t notice? That you could flaunt the rules and get away with it?”
The weight of the situation bore down on me, making my knees feel weak.
My skin felt cold, clammy, as if icy fingers were tracing patterns on my back, drawing shivers from my spine.
I knew they would notice… but not this fast.
The very air I breathed felt like it was drawn from a cavern, damp and heavy.
“I…” I started, trying to find the words, but everything seemed stuck in my throat.
The Supervisor raised a hand, cutting me off. “We have recordings, Ashale. Recordings of every fight, every movement, every moment. If anyone were to review them, it would be clear that there were two distinct sets of spirit animals.” He paused, letting the implication hang in the air. “One set from you, and one set not.”
I thought back to the pit, to the exact moment when Nova’s spirit animals had come to my aid.
The visual discrepancy would be clear, the difference in the animals evident.
My tarigon, my bird, my octar versus Nova’s.
As much as I wished to deny it, to argue, the evidence was irrefutable.
Sneik reveled in my discomfort, a smug satisfaction evident in my eyes. “You see, Ashale, no outside assistance is allowed. It’s against the rules.”
Despair threatened to swallow me whole.
