Immortal Consequences(50)
“Oh, just a little cut.” Irene grimaced, limping closer. She narrowed her gaze toward Silas. “You’d better explain yourself.”
“I understand the element of pain can take some adjustment. But I assure you, it is simply a part of the Decennial tradition—”
“I think tradition went out the bloody window when you made this a competition,” Josie snapped.
Silas sighed, rubbing his temples. “Yes. You’re right. This Decennial has been…less than ideal. But everything we’re doing, everything we have done, has been for the greater good. To ensure balance within the afterlife.”
“Get to the point,” grumbled Carter.
Silas cleared his throat.
“As some of you might already know…the Demien Order has been growing bolder in their tactics to recruit Blackwood students. We’ve had more close calls the past few months than we’ve had in decades. Ever since…we’ve noticed a disturbance in the Ether. A shift in the balance, if you will.”
“What does this have to do with us?” Olivier asked, exasperated.
“After much discussion, the Council agreed that we needed to create a task force. A defense against our enemies to ensure that we keep Blackwood and its students safe. And though our current group of Ascended are some of the strongest and most brilliant students we’ve ever had…we realized there was something missing. A leader. Someone who could help guide the Ascended and create the ultimate defense against the Demien Order.”
Silas acknowledged the group with a sweeping gesture of his hand.
“And that’s where you all come in.”
“Us?” Emilio asked, voice wavering. The poor boy looked like he was moments away from being sick.
“Well…” Silas smirked. “One of you, at least. You see, we wanted to ensure that whoever we chose was truly the best of the best. There was no room for error. So…in order to guarantee that the student we chose was the right candidate for the job, the Council decided to make the Decennial a competition among the twelve best students Blackwood has to offer.”
“But…what if the winner doesn’t want to join the Ascended?” Emilio asked softly. Irene didn’t miss the way Olivier tensed beside him, his jaw flexing and fingernails digging into the fabric of his pants. “We’re supposed to be given a choice.”
“Of course,” Silas said. “And that choice will still be yours. If the winner decides to cross over to the Other Side, then the honor of becoming a leader within our Ascended will fall upon the runner-up.”
“That doesn’t explain this.” Irene gestured to her wound. “Why aren’t we healing?”
Silas’s eyes roamed over the group with deliberate precision. “Pain has always been a part of the Decennial trials. Even when we’ve only had one nominee. It was a way to ensure that our chosen champion could perform adequately under pressure. But now, in this competition, the element of pain will be used as a way to eliminate nominees. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, your wounds are no longer healing magically. Which means that if you are injured with what would in life be considered a fatal wound, you will be eliminated and your body will be transported to the infirmary, where some of our Ascended will work to repair your wounds.”
“Is that where Nick and Liza are?” Masika asked. “I…I saw Nick’s body disintegrate—” Her voice caught in her throat, as though she was choking back tears, but she quickly composed herself with a sharp breath.
Silas nodded, solemn. “Nick Aronson and Liza Mendez were unfortunately eliminated. We have transported their bodies to the infirmary, where they will reside for the remainder of the competition. I’m afraid it might take a while, given the…extent…of their injuries.”
“This is sadistic,” muttered Wren under her breath.
Silas sighed. For a moment, he seemed genuinely remorseful. “This is necessary. The balance and safety of the afterlife are of paramount importance. And isn’t this what you all wanted? A chance to be part of something great? An opportunity to break away from the monotony of your routine? To escape the inevitable consequences tied to your duty as reapers of lost souls? I am offering you freedom. Power.”
He was right. And as Irene glanced around the room, taking in the faces of the other students, she knew they were thinking the same thing.
The pain didn’t change anything.
They all still wanted to win.
“Now.” Silas clasped his hands together. “There is the matter of keeping all of this information private.” He snapped his fingers, and a piece of parchment materialized between his hands. A golden sphere of light emanated from the center of the page.
“A soul vow,” whispered Emilio, jaw going slack. “I’ve read about those. They’re binding contracts. If you break the vow…your soul becomes untethered from Blackwood. You can no longer remain on campus…you’re forced to wander the outskirts of purgatory for the rest of existence.”
“It’s for everybody’s safety,” Silas explained, an apologetic smile on his face. He let go of the paper and it levitated in front of him, suspended in midair. He flicked his wrist, and a fountain pen appeared beside the piece of parchment. “In the weeks that follow, I must ensure that this information stays between us. I cannot have the other students knowing that the Demien Order currently poses a threat. It would only cause a panic. Disrupt the balance that remains. I must ensure that we keep a level of order.”