AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The sun shifts from its position overhead, shining light through the colored window in the corner of the library. Flakes of dust drift into the sunbeam, floating like magic around the men. I adjust my stance, dropping to a crouch to ensure the light beam does not capture me. I manage to sneak into the library at this point, and I rest behind a low bookshelf. My mind flashes back to hiding in my father’s office and overhearing Stone revealing the truth about our society all those years ago.
This conversation will have the same weight on me. I can feel it. It’s a good thing I’ve always been adept at going unnoticed.
“The vessel is in the Race this year. After all these years, the Race has finally revealed what we were searching for.”
My gut clenches. They’re searching for a human? What could they possibly have planned with a human? I rack my brain to any knowledge about a vessel. I briefly remember something Stone once told me as a child: that the old Gods used items as vessels to help them channel their magic, similar to how Seasonale gathered the other magics to combine them for complex spells.
How could a human be a vessel, though?
As their conversation continues in hushed tones, uncertainty gnaws at the edges of my thoughts. What have I stumbled upon? I always thought the Race continued on to control the humans and keep them from asking questions about the Gods. Hearing that the Race was orchestrated to find a vessel makes my stomach churn at the deception.
For months, I have been planning the Race to end all Races. Through the weakening of infrastructure and careful terrain design, my hope has been to guide as many Racers as possible to the arena during the winner’s ceremony. With the full force of the Lowlands pouring into the arena, I want to reveal the truth about the old Gods being missing to all of Krillium. They would not stand for it if they knew that the Gods were not demanding these sacrifices.
The barbarism of the Race could finally be over.
Hearing that Mace has someone he’s seeking out within the confines of the Race, I can’t help but question if my path is the right one for the situation at hand. Have I been blind to the true scope of Mace’s intentions?
Do I even allow the Race to continue? Should I attempt to stop the Race before the vessel is revealed? Even though it has never been necessary, the motivations that drive Mace to champion the Race have always been twisted and corrupted. Whatever he is planning feels deeper and more dangerous than the Race.
My thighs ache from crouching out of sight, and the conversation between Mace and the man is getting harder to hear as their tones continue to drop. I quietly retreat into the hall, the stiffness of my muscles slowing me down. As I walk, I shake the tingling out of my hands and then shove them into my pockets.
My mind is consumed with thoughts of the conversation I overheard. I always knew the Race wasn’t what we said it to be, but the way the mysterious man spoke leads me to believe it was orchestrated to find this vessel.
Have I chosen the wrong course in seeking to end the Race? Is there a greater truth I have yet to uncover? Could my plan help Mace in his or thwart it?
And is my plan even the right one? What if finding this vessel is a good thing, not a bad thing?
It boils down to trust. Do I trust that Mace has good intentions? It is hard to separate my feelings towards Mace from what this could mean for Ytopie. I know I cannot be unbiased when it comes to him. There is so much history and bad blood between us. It has been a long time since I saw the good in him.
Stepping outside into the courtyard behind the Palace, one of my favorite places in Ytopie, I lean against the wall and let the warm sun hit my face. The feeling of sunlight recharges me and grounds my thoughts in reality. The lingering questions about Mace’s motivations and potential outcomes tell me I can no longer handle this alone.
Chapter 15
Viola
Somethingabouthermust’veworn me down while I slept because I don’t know how they managed to convince me, but Tulip is now traveling with Max and me. What started as us just “Getting Tulip out of the clearing, that’s all!” became Tulip joining us through the Summit and turning our group of two into three. Despite my training screaming at me that I cannot afford to trust someone other than Max, I find myself rapidly warming to Tulip. Max loves her, saying she reminds her of one of the girls from the village. As long as she doesn’t slow us down, it seems like it can’t hurt to keep her around.
As if she knows I’m thinking about her, Tulip turns her head back to look at me, a wide grin splitting her face.
She’s so small, her body slight, young, and of short stature. It’s a stark contrast to my muscled limbs and height. I twisted her hair up in a braid this morning, hoping it would not get in her eyes or caught on wayward branches. It looks nice that way, like a crown on her head. She’d be a fae princess with Spring magic, a comfortable bed, and devastatingly beautiful clothes in another life.
But that’s not the life any of us were blessed with.
We’ve navigated through the dense forest and are now trekking through a valley that stretches for ages, leading directly to Gallant Mountain. The bright sunlight makes me feel vulnerable, a sitting duck in danger of being swooped up. But Max and Tulip seem unfazed, laughing and joking about something that I am too far behind them to hear.
I’m doing my best to push against the instincts ingrained in me by paranoid parents. I cannot find it in myself to believe that Tulip would bring danger to me.
Maybe it will come back to bite me in the end, but right now, the joy on Max’s face at having Tulip with us overshadows that worry.
Last night, I had a dream where I won the Race. Max and Tulip were right there, celebrating the victory with me. My parents were present, cheering us on. The joy I experienced in that dream was so real it was almost painful to wake up. It’s not lost on me that my brain automatically pushed Tulip into my dreams, as if she was meant to be a part of this with me all along.
“The first thing I’m going to do when I get to Ytopie is take a hot bath!” Tulip exclaims ahead of me. Max’s melodic laughter fills the air around us. In our village, fresh water is a scarce resource. Baths are a luxury we rarely have. We’re used to either swimming in the ocean or making do with rudimentary washing methods.
“I have to admit,” I say, picking up my pace and trying to join the conversation, “a steaming hot bath sounds amazing. I want the water so hot that my skin turns pink.”
“Yes! See, Max? Viola understands!” Tulip nudges Max’s shoulder, and a curious pang of jealousy surges through me, almost knocking me off balance. What have I been missing out on, spending my days avoiding people and rejecting fun? My pace levels out, allowing me to walk abreast of the two of them.
As we walk, Tulip makes up songs, a nonsensical jumble of words that I tune out until I hear her weaving my name into her babbling. “Violaaaa, Olaaaa, Lolaaaaa… Lola! Hey, I’m going to call you Lola!” I stumble over my feet at Tulip’s unknown use of my childhood nickname. The memory of my father, in the setting of the Race, causes emotions to bubble up. I tap my fingers over the hilt of my blade, counting to five before I give Tulip what I hope is a kind smile.
