Chapter 11: Rhys
1073 Words
The night breeze whispered through the empty corridors of the Academy, but the wind brought no comfort. Rhys sat on the ledge of a window, gazing down at the courtyard illuminated by luminescent flowers. Their soft glow should have been soothing, but to her, it was just a cruel reminder of what she couldn’t seem to grasp: peace.
Her breathing was uneven, as if the weight on her chest was too heavy to bear. Since the Debutante Ball, her mind had been a whirlwind. For weeks, she had tried to pretend nothing was wrong, that the looks from others didn’t affect her, that the empty silence inside her didn’t bother her. But the facade was beginning to c***k.
Rhys ran her fingers through her golden-blond hair, pushing it away from her face. She knew others saw her as the most beautiful among them, but to her, it was more of a burden than a blessing. She didn’t want to be admired for something so superficial. She wanted to be recognized for her strength, for her intelligence, for something that truly mattered. And lately, even that seemed impossible.
"Why am I here?" she thought, biting her lip. It wasn’t the first time the question had crossed her mind, but tonight, it felt more insistent. Since the beginning, she had doubted her place in the Council. She was good in training, but not the best. She was fast, but not the most strategic. Even Morgana, with all her insecurities, had something that made her special. And her? What did she have?
The Ball had been the final confirmation that something was wrong. She had watched Brianna and Nerys shine, magical energy enveloping them as they found their partners. She had waited, hopeful, to feel something similar. But nothing happened. No spark, no connection, nothing. It was as if the universe had ignored her.
She stood from the window and started walking down the corridor, her steps echoing softly in the silence. Dissatisfaction grew inside her like a storm. She thought of the others—Brianna and Nerys, always so confident; Morgana, despite her doubts, still managing to hold herself together; Cerys, always logical and fearless. And her? What did she truly have to offer the Council?
The thought came before she could stop it. "What if I just left?"
The idea was absurd, yet temptingly simple. What if she just disappeared? No one would miss her. The Council had its natural leaders, and she had never been one of them. She could leave the Academy, vanish into the world, and maybe find a place where she was more than just a shadow.
The idea started to take root. What if she could just go? Forge a destiny of her own, away from the Council’s expectations? No one would stop her. No one would notice. She could slip away in the middle of the night, find a path where she was more than just a pretty face with no purpose.
Without thinking much, her feet moved on their own. She left the corridor and followed the Academy’s side paths, her heartbeat quickening. She felt adrenaline rush through her veins, a sense of urgency pressing against her chest. She walked toward the outer walls, where the forest began.
The smaller gate, the one instructors used for patrols, was slightly ajar. A stroke of luck? Or a test from fate? Rhys took a deep breath, feeling a mix of fear and exhilaration. If she stepped through, there would be no turning back. Maybe that was for the best.
She took a step. Then another. But just as she was crossing the threshold, a cold voice sounded behind her.
— Where do you think you’re going?
A jolt of shock ran down her spine. She turned and saw Draven leaning against one of the stone pillars, arms crossed, an enigmatic smile on his lips. His eyes gleamed under the moonlight, studying her as if she were a trapped animal.
— Need help running away? — he asked, his tone almost amused.
Rhys froze, her heart pounding. She could try to run, but she knew Draven would catch her in an instant. He was fast, cunning, and above all, unpredictable.
— I just needed fresh air — she said, trying to sound composed.
Draven tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. — Doesn’t seem like it. What are you looking for out there that you can’t find in here?
She swallowed hard. He wasn’t going to let her leave.
— I don’t know if I belong here — she admitted, almost without thinking.
Draven watched her for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh. — You’re more foolish than you look, Rhys. Do you really think you can escape your destiny? That if you leave now, you’ll find something better? You’ll just be lost. And no one will come looking for you.
The words hit like a punch to the gut. No one would come for her. Maybe that was for the best. But at the same time, there was something in Draven’s cold voice that awakened something inside her. A survival instinct, a fury she hadn’t known she possessed. She wouldn’t let him intimidate her.
— Maybe I need to get lost to find myself — she replied, surprising even herself with her courage.
Draven raised an eyebrow. Then he sighed, as if bored. — Do whatever you want. But remember this: once you step out, you’ll never be able to come back the same.
Rhys hesitated. Her legs wanted to move, but something inside her screamed for her to stop. She took a deep breath and looked at the forest ahead.
Elyria had been right. She still didn’t know her path. But leaving now, running away, was that really the answer? Or just a desperate attempt to escape what scared her?
She lowered her head, feeling drained. Maybe running wasn’t what she needed. Maybe she had to face her doubts and find her worth in what she already had.
Without another word, she turned and walked back to the Academy. Draven didn’t stop her. He only smiled, as if he had known all along that she would return.
As she re-entered the silent corridors, one thing was clear: the doubt was still there. But now, maybe, she was ready to face it.
"Maybe she’s right," she thought. "But if I can’t find my place here… what will I do?"
- Writer
