Six of Ruin (Heirs of Irenwell #1) ✔

Chapter 38: The Hand of Time

My heart pounded against my ribcage, mimicking the strange, melodious music, as Rixen and I approached the tall, giant fort, our arms locked. It appeared even larger now, while I stood underneath the towers and stared up into the peaks disappearing behind the clouds.

However, the height of the towers was nothing compared to the mountains surrounding it. They looked like giant, stone barriers. Despite potentially risking our lives by passing through Aradda, I was glad we didn't have to go over the mountains.

The spirits moved past us, walking with more confidence and assurance. Their presence opened up a sixth sense in me, and beside seeing their haunting exteriors and hearing their deep, soothing voices, I now felt their essence.

Warmth and cold enveloped me at the same time, sending shivers down my spine, but coating my forehead in sweat. A musky, sultry, sensuous smell travelled through the air. I couldn't quite pinpoint where I've sensed it before.

I glanced at the shadowman by my side. His expression revealed nothing; his lips remained tightly clasped, his yellow gaze focused and alert, and his head high. He looked good in his pitch-black tunic contrasting his white skin, which now appeared even whiter.

Judging by the prickling fear he sent down our connection, I realised he wasn't aware how much he fit in here. The haunting, silver-blue moonlight hues reflecting off the grey-white cliffs emphasized his otherworldly beauty. He belonged here, in a faraway, magical land.

You look like this place. I sent down the bond.

A smile emerged on his lip, but he didn't look at me. My ancestors ruled it for centuries. I have more in common with spirits than I do with humans.

I gazed over the attendees and subconsciously compared them to Rixen. All kinds of creatures soundlessly walked to the large, iron gates, their feet barely touching the ground. Exquisite eyes, of all colours imaginable, decorated beautiful, ghostly faces like gems protruding out of white stone. They were all eerily symmetrical. Seeing such perfection here caused awe, but in any other place they would stand out in a frightening, threatening way.

There was more humanity in Rixen, his presence was more tangible, corporeal, yet right here, right now, he felt like a dream I would wake up from.

Rixen breathed in, his thoughts emerging in my head, During the Shadow Rule, balls like this were held in Aradda every month. Of all the shadowman traditions, the summer and winter solstice celebrations are the ones they kept.

It was a strange thing, to walk across the bridge of a once great kingdom, the memory of its existence kept alive only through this seemingly insignificant tradition.

Why do they keep doing it?

Rixen shrugged, The same reason why the Waiting Tower still exists. To preserve a memory.

The iron gates grew larger as we walked and my heartbeat quickened. I was afraid. Not just because our friends were now passing through the tunnels of these imposing towers, but because of what waited inside.

The sights and smells and sounds intertwined into one specific, yet complex sense. Whatever waited on the other side of the gates was something I'd only see once in my life. Everyone I knew, all the servants, squires, lords and kings, would never have this opportunity.

It made me want to indulge in a way I had never felt before.

Irina, be careful. Rixen's mind clashed into mine. This is a strange place and the summer solstice ball isn't just a ball.

A lump formed in my throat, not a lump of fear but a lump of excitement. I've already felt detached from myself, after what had happened in Balr with our ships, and now I felt the void between me and myself deepen.