As she rose carefully on the narrow platform, the rain began coming down in earnest, lashing against her in stinging waves and disappearing into the clouds amassed beneath her.
“This is impossible!” she yelled up into the stormy sky. “I don’t know what to do!” She lowered her head and looked down at her feet, repeating in a choked whisper, “I don’t know what to do.”
There was no way for her to reach the door. No matter which way she looked at it, she couldn’t come up with a solution; she couldn’t figure out how to not fail the task.
Another rumble of thunder, much louder this time, as well as a blazing streak much too close for comfort. Before that streak, Alex had presumed the storm was just for show, certain the Library would keep her protected. But she’d felt the energy brush against her skin, the tangible static of warning as the air around her filled with the heavy weight of anticipation. Whatever was happening, she wasn’t safe from it. And worse, with her position on the platform, she was a ready-made lightning conductor.
But… if she made a move, if she took a metaphorical leap of faith and ended up falling, then her lessons with Mr. Mystery Man would be finished before they’d properly begun.
Swiping her sodden hair off her face, Alex knew her chances weren’t good. She squinted against the lightning now streaking all around her, aware that every second she delayed increased the danger. And so, with a shuddering breath, she made her decision. Alive but without Mr. Mystery Man’s help was better than dead and… well, being dead. She wouldn’t be able to save anyone if she was dead.
“I’m sorry,” Alex whispered to no one—and everyone. A crash of thunder drowned out her words, but she didn’t wait around to repeat them. Instead, she stepped off the platform.
Time seemed to slow for a fraction of a moment as Alex began to fall, just long enough for her to see a spear of lightning strike the platform where she’d been standing, causing it to explode in a shower of sparks.
All of this she witnessed in a heartbeat because, before she could so much as gasp, she had fallen too far to see any more.
And she continued to fall.
Lungs frozen in her chest, Alex plummeted down through the darkness, through the clouds and the rain, through the eerie flashes of light against the night’s sky. Until, suddenly, she wasn’t falling anymore.
Between one breath and the next, one blink and another, she found herself lying on the floor of the bright white room again, the cloaked man standing impassively above her.
With water dripping from her body, Alex rose on shaky legs and waited dejectedly for him to say the words.
She didn’t have to wait long.
“You fell.”
Eyes downcast, Alex said, “I did.”
“That means you failed.”
She focused on the liquid pooling at her feet and responded with a quiet, “I know.”
Silence.
And then—
“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Alex’s neck snapped back up to stare at his hidden face. “What?”
“I’ll thank you to no longer refer to me as Mr. Mystery Man,” he told her with an offended sniff.
Alex could only stare at him and repeat, “What?”
“Athora is my name. You will remember my requirement and not share it with anyone other than your once-Claimed Meyarin. Is that clear?”
More staring. “I—Wait, didn’t I fail?”
“You said it yourself, Alexandra,” Athora said. “Indeed, you screamed it to the heavens in quite the dramatic pique. It was, as you claimed, an impossible task. One in which you were doomed to fail.”
Alex gaped at him. “Then why—”
“What’s my rule, Alexandra?” he interrupted sharply.
Cringing, she answered, “Don’t question your training.”
With a rustle of his cloak as he crossed his arms, Athora said, “Sometimes I will tell you why I do things. Other times, I will not.”
When he said no more, Alex decided to press her luck. “Any chance I get to pick and choose which time is which?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so,” she mumbled, toeing the steadily growing puddle around her shoes.
“But in this case, I will allow you to hear my reasoning.”
Alex glanced back up with curious eyes.
“I told you that your task was to reach the doorway,” he said. “That if you didn’t manage to do so, if you fell, you would no longer be my student.”
Alex nodded, fully aware of his words.
“I lied. On both counts.” His monotonous voice was without the faintest trace of shame. “Your true task was to learn the hard lesson of failure.”
“Wha—”
“You needed to fail, Alexandra,” he interrupted, “because you needed to understand that sometimes failure is unavoidable. Success is never a guarantee, in any area of life. You needed to accept that. You needed to embrace that. And you needed to take a step forward while knowing your actions were unlikely to result in victory.”
As Alex processed his words, Athora continued, “On the path ahead of you, with the challenges you are yet to face, you will see your share of failure. It is inevitable. And when it comes, you need to have the strength of character to continue on, to rise again after you fall. Because you will fall, Alexandra. Of that much, you can be sure.”
“Are you saying—” Alex swallowed. “Is this some kind of warning that I’m doomed to fail? That I won’t be able to stop Aven?”
Athora’s cloaked head tilted to the side and he took a long moment to study her. Just when she thought he wasn’t going to respond, he quietly said, “I would not waste my time on a lost cause.”
A spark of hope reignited in Alex.
“However,” he added, “whether my confidence in you is misplaced or not, only time will tell.”
And just like that, her spark was snuffed out again. But the memory of it remained with Alex as she left the Library, sent a quick mental call to let Niyx know she had survived, and returned to her dormitory for the night.
She was not fighting for a lost cause. If the sombre Athora could believe that, then Alex could, too.
A strange kind of routine settled upon Alex’s life over the next few days, but so too did a growing sense of urgency to start putting her plans into action—a feeling that had only increased since her meeting in Darrius’s office.
While part of her questioned whether she should skip her schooling and leave the academy to begin warning the other races of Medora immediately, she couldn’t forget Lady Mystique’s insistence that she remain on campus and continue her studies.
‘I can’t stress the importance of this enough, Alexandra,’ is what the ancient Tia Auran had said.
So, despite Alex’s better judgement—and with the assurances of her teachers that the world most likely wouldn’t end if she waited until the weekend before venturing from the academy—Alex reluctantly kept attending her classes.