The narrow alley spilled out into the sprawling expanse of the Eclipse Trials arena district—a brutal jumble of shattered stone, steel scaffolding, and flickering neon signs that clashed with the ancient ruins beneath them. The air was thick with dust, sweat, and the ever-present hum of distant engines and shouted orders.
Rei, Jace, and I moved quickly through the crowds of fighters, handlers, and shadowy officials. Our faces were grim masks; every glance behind us was a reminder we weren't truly safe. Kael's warning echoed in my mind: Don't come back here. Not again.
The Third Veil loomed ahead, announced only hours ago—a raw combat phase designed to strip fighters down to their core, testing not just skill but ruthlessness. The schedule was tight: we had three days to prepare, to heal, and to strategize.
I glanced at Rei, whose fingers twitched near her hidden weapons. "You ready?"
She gave me a half-smile, tired but fierce. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Jace cracked his knuckles, already stretching. "Thirty-seven left. We started with nearly seventy. This next round is going to be a bloodbath."
The arena was a twisted cathedral of violence—ancient stone walls scarred with scorch marks, lit by harsh floodlights that threw long shadows across the sand and rubble. The crowd would be relentless, hungry for blood and spectacle.
Every fighter here had a story of loss, betrayal, or hunger for power. Some wore the insignia of fractured clans; others were mercenaries, rebels, or desperate souls chasing a chance to rewrite their fate.
I felt the weight of my own secret pressing down—the Vireya bloodline hidden beneath my tattered jacket, the truth that could mean death if discovered.
We found a quiet corner beneath a rusted catwalk where the three of us could talk, plan.
"We need to watch each other's backs," I said, voice low. "If we can."
Jace nodded.
I glanced at them both before answering, "Okey then.I'll keep moving."
Rei's eyes flicked to mine. "And Kael?"
"What about Kael?"
Jace's jaw clenched. "Just don't trust him too much."
I agreed silently.
Outside, the announcement crackled over the intercom again, cold and mechanical:
"All fighters prepare. The Third Veil begins in seventy-two hours. Rest, strategize, and be ready to fight."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Next day.
We found a small, dim corner of the fighter's quarters—a rundown room layered with dust, the scent of sweat and old blood hanging thick in the air. The flickering light from a broken bulb overhead cast jagged shadows across our faces.
Jace stretched his arms and then leaned back against the cracked wall, eyes narrowing. "So… do you trust him now?"
I looked down, fingers brushing the cold metal of the pendant hidden beneath my shirt. The Vireya chain—the only proof of my bloodline I'd ever dared to carry.
"No," I said, voice low but steady. "But he knows who I am now."
Rei blinked. "Wait, what?"
I sighed and met her gaze. "He saw my chain."
Jace let out a whistle. "Still, he helped you."
I nodded. "Yeah. Against all odds, he helped me. Even after knowing."
Rei folded her arms, skeptical. "Sounds like he's playing a deeper game. Maybe he's not just the Council's golden boy after all."
Jace scoffed. "Or maybe he's exactly what he seems—dangerous, unpredictable, and using us all."
I leaned forward, voice almost a whisper. "That's why we need to be careful."
The three of us shared a moment of silent ….
Intercom crackles.
A mechanical voice echoed through the hall like a god passing judgment.
"Third Veil combat pairings will now be displayed."
Holograms shimmered into place mid-air, listing the names two by two. I held my breath, eyes scanning the projections.
And then—
"Nyra Vale — Kael Riven."
My chest locked.
"What?" I muttered under my breath. Somewhere behind me, a sharp intake of breath told me someone else saw it too.
I turned, eyes darting through the crowd—and found him. Kael. Leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, watching me already.
Unblinking. Unapologetic. Like this was going to happen.
I clenched my fists.
"Perfect," I hissed.
Then I glanced to my right. The list kept unfolding.
"Jace Myrren — Rei Nox."
I exhaled—relieved, even if just for a moment.
Jace grinned when our eyes met. "Lucky, huh?"
"Very," Rei added, though her gaze quickly slid to Kael and back to me, concerned.
My mind spun. Why had the Council paired me with him? Was it punishment? A test?
Kael walked up slowly, the space between us evaporating like breath in cold air. His voice was low, near my ear. "Looks like you're stuck with me."
I stepped back. "Don't get too excited."
That smirk—infuriating, always—curved across his lips. "Just said you're stuck."
From the other side of the room, Rei called out, "You two going to flirt or fight?"
I rolled my eyes. "We'll do both and win. Watch us."
But deep inside, the storm was already forming. Because pairing with Kael Riven meant more than survival now.
It meant dancing on the edge of a knife.
And I wasn't sure whether I'd cut him first—
Or fall.
The following day-
The paired training arena looked like something carved out of a war god's dream—half ruin, half simulation. Stone pillars jutted from cracked floors. Holographic flames danced along the edges, flickering but never burning. And above us, the mirrored dome watched everything—recording, judging, calculating.
Kael stood across from me, shirtless under his dark combat vest, muscles coiled like the storm always simmering in his eyes. He held his blade with that same irritating calm—too smooth, too practiced. It made me want to punch the smugness off his face.
I lunged first. He blocked easily. Too easily.
"You're not even trying," I growled, coming at him again. My elbow flew toward his ribs—he caught it, twisted.
"You call that an attack?" he shot back. "I've seen Council trainees do worse."
"Right. You'd know," I snapped, spinning low to sweep his leg. "Being the Council's golden boy and all."
That struck a nerve. He parried hard this time—enough force to rattle my wrist—and shoved me back against a broken pillar.
I barely caught my breath before his blade pressed against my throat.
Steel kissed skin.
"You keep calling me that," he muttered, voice low and sharp like cracked obsidian. "Council's boy. Dog. Puppet."
I glared up at him, heart hammering. "Prove me wrong."
His eyes flared—and then narrowed. "You think you and your little rebels got lucky? That Jace and Rei just happened to be paired together?"
My breath caught.
Kael leaned in, close enough for me to feel the heat rolling off him. "I changed the pairings."
My blood ran cold. "What?"
"I saw the original matchups," he said, calm again. "You three were supposed to be split. Then any of your life will be guaranteed."
I stiffened, but didn't speak.
He moved the blade away but didn't step back. "None of you would've survived. Not like that."
"You—" I started, but the words caught. "Why would you do that? You're one of them."
He finally stepped back, blade sheathing with a metallic click. "I'm not what you think."
I touched the place on my neck where the steel had been a second ago, still warm. I hated the way my pulse skipped—not from fear. From something else.
"Why help us?" I asked, voice quieter now.
Kael didn't answer right away.
Then: "Because someone has to make sure the Council doesn't win this time."
Our eyes locked.
Not enemies. Not allies.
I didn't know what scared me more—what he just said.
Or that part of me believed him.
Kael stepped away, but not far enough.
For the first time…I didn't want to look away either.
"You expect me to believe that?" I said finally, voice low, breath still uneven. "That you saved us out of the goodness of your cold, council-polished heart?"
He gave a hollow chuckle, turning slightly to glance toward the edge of the arena. "No. I expect you to keep surviving. That's all."
My fists clenched at my sides. "I'm not yours to protect."
"No," he said, stepping closer again, "but you're not a ghost either, Nyra."
The name hit harder than I expected. And the way he said it.
His eyes followed down to my neck.
My eyes flickered to the chain around my neck—the one I kept tucked under armor, always hidden.
But it wasn't hidden now. Not fully. In the fight, it must've slipped free. The metal gleamed faintly .
His gaze didn't leave it.
"You know who I am," I said flatly, stepping back. "Then you know why I can't trust you."
"I saw the chain," he admitted. "And I didn't tell them."
"Why?"
"I don't know," he said. But something flickered behind his storm-lit eyes. "Maybe because you're not what I expected either."
For a second, the silence felt too loud.
Then footsteps echoed through the stone tunnel leading out of the training arena. Voices—Rei's laugh, Jace's lower reply. I straightened as they came into view.
Jace looked between us, brow raised. "Everything good here?"
Kael was already stepping back, blade sheathed. "You've got a few hours until the phase begins. Use them wisely."
Then, to me, his voice dropped just enough: "And don't think about running off again. You're going to need me."
I glared at him.
He only smiled lightly—then vanished down the corridor like a shadow slipping between cracks in stone.
Rei nudged me as she joined my side. "You've got that look again."
"What look?" I muttered.
Jace tilted his head, grinning. "The one you get when you're not sure whether you want to stab someone… or something else."
I turned away quickly. "Shut up."
But the worst part?
I wasn't sure either.
.
.
.
.
.