Eliana POV
There was a saying once carved into the walls of the temple I grew up in:
“The strongest flame is often the first to burn out.”
I used to scoff at that. Weakness, I thought, masquerading as wisdom. The convenient excuse to those who quit too soon. Tonight, however, when I fell on my knees in the center of the training ring, trembling violently all over, drenched in sweat and shaking with fatigue, those words resonated through me like the fulfillment of a prophecy.
This silver, solemn moon hovered overhead, the gleam of which lay in pools on the sculpted faces of the stones about me. The breaths were hard and laboured, and seemed as though they were being torn out of my chest. Still—I pushed back to my feet.
Again.
Always again.
Scarlet had answered once. I’d felt her fury
