Shattered Line

Chapter 18: Her Decision

"Fine. I'll do it," Isla responded.

Worries existed, primed and ready, but for her alone. Yet, this chance brought an opportunity for change. A simple wager, resulting in annihilation or victory. A risk with the clear pathway to thwart another emotional loss like Rydin. How could she cede this break?

Nirvana smirked. "Very good. Glad to see you didn't inherit your father's eager flight tendencies."

"Coward would be the least of my descriptions for him."

"You two are surprisingly similar," Layla laughed.

"Not a chance," Isla rebuked, "I'm not that old and decrepit."

"Such ill-will towards your benefactor. Your mother would weep. Perhaps some personality lessons would help as well," Nirvana responded, tapping her chin.

"There's no fixing what's already broken," Linda mocked.

Isla raised an eyebrow. "Says the one who broke it?"

Nirvana sighed. "It's the past. Move on."

"If they can be 'heated emotionally' for eight years, I'm allowed the same. Tell me what I need to do so I can leave," Isla snapped.

"Fine, child. Listen well. Arcadia is a special world, unlike others. The world watches over its residents, nourishing the land. Only after one is accepted by this world's spirit, can they become Queen. A future without this bond leads to destruction."

"Okay, create a bond. How?"

"When you are ready, travel to Mount Avia. At the top will be a shrine, pass through the barrier and the spirit's test will begin."

"That's it?"

"Isla," Layla protested, "it's not that simple."

"Quiet, Layla. She can figure the trial out on her own," Nirvana reprimanded.

Isla watched Layla, her mouth parting and gaze telling. What couldn't be said? Did the trial entail a far deeper concept than she presumed? No, her sisters survived. She could endure similar challenges fate had anticipated. Even tests worse than death.

Ignoring the impulse, she stood. Needles poked and prodded her thighs, the effect pulsating. One step, and her vision blurred alongside her lurching stomach. The door enraptured her gaze, drawing her forward.

"Isla?" Layla called.

She paused, the door handle leveraging her weight. Her legs trembled and she clawed her weakness.

A sluggish touch and the door creaked open. Again, she moved, their gazes serrating her back.

Isla concentrated on a solid stride—straight, even, and strong. Her persistence transported her past smut riddled walls and through stone fragment littered hallways. She shuffled into the central hub, heaving at the corner. Her gaze scoured the wide, empty expanse. The echoing footsteps of two patrolling guards synchronized with her heartbeat.

They halted and their gazes followed her movements. Still, she continued, avoiding the questionable stares she knew her appearance incited.

A golden light blindsided her as she exited. She winced and shaded her eyes. The star shined overhead, emanating cheerful rays and warming the land.

Why did even the weather mock her? This scenery rekindled her detachment to time's passage. People died, but life continued, unending and repetitive. How laughable did her circumstances need to be before she found peace?

A tap on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts. "Isla?" Layla called.

She lowered her gaze. "What?"