The King Trials 2: Beyond.

~Arisen~

Aurora.

My eyes snap open.

 My top is drenched in sweat, clinging to my skin.

"I must be losing my mind," I whisper, almost in fear of being overheard.

I rise, a paroxysm of pain sears through my left-side, ensued by aches stitching along my spine. The result of sleeping on sheer rock. The cave I'm in is narrow and quadrilateral with a thin draping at the entrance as a door. My saddlebag and belongings are shoved in the corner.

You hear but you do not listen.

I freeze. I look around as if I expect someone to magically appear. But no one does, not even the eidolon.

Hesitant, I part my lips. "Who...who are you?"

Who are you?

Oddly. I find it challenging to answer my own question delivered back to me. "Why is that only I can hear you? Why are you in my head?"

I am everywhere.

"Alright then." Tolerating the vagueness. "What do you want with me?"

For you to arise. And to come into the destiny for which I have called you for.

My vision narrows into slits. "And what is that?"

It is for Me to conceal a matter. And for a king to search it out.

I resist a shrug. "I am not a king."

No. You are far greater.

My gaze sinks. My mind torments me with a procession of harrowing memories, unsettling reminders of all the malevolence that I am capable of. I feel the guilt like a poison inside of me, festering. I think myself absurd practically talking to myself. But the all-knowing voice sounds...consoling and warm like the voice of a father. Akin to a certain comfort like confiding in a friend.

"Perhaps the old Aurora," I confess to the unknown. "But what I am now—what I have done. Whatever malignancy dwells within me that led me to do such horrors. I should have resisted; I should have fought against it. I could have. But I did not. I am not worthy, that I knew even before the King Trials."

You are not worthy because of who you are. You are worthy because I have chosen you.

"Chosen me for what?" Pain bursts in my left side. I clutch my head. "Who are you?"

Silence follows my words.

I wait and I wait but nothing.

I scramble out of my bedroll. I peel off the night garment, my breasts wrapped tightly in cloth. I shuffle to my baggage to retrieve my corsage, essentially a leather vest with a built-in corset but with far less potential of damaging my organs.

After dressing in my black, skin-fitting pants and boots. I fasten my corsage from the bottom, making my way to my neck. But I am halted halfway when something in my periphery demands my attention. I look at the entrance and a figure pushes the flap of the drapings, bending his neck to enter.

Zoar. The Are leader with his staff attached to his hand.

My hands drop to my sides.

I give him a dignified nod. "I know you cannot understand me. But I wanted to offer my gratitude for saving our lives."

His glowing blue eyes pierce the gloom. He walks forward to stand before me. He lifts a stiff arm, fully bandaged in heavy layers. He points at my wound.

I glance it and dismiss him with my other hand. "Do not concern yourself. I have survived worst. I will live."

Unexpectedly, he takes my wrist, gently elongating my arm—I obscure a wince. He upturns my arm, my palm facing up. He releases his staff but instead of falling. It stands beside him on its own with absolutely nothing to keep it upright. Whilst still holding my wrist with the one hand, he lifts the other and allows it to hover inches above my flesh. His bound hand scans my arm from my elbow to wrist slowly.