Clara woke to the crackling of wood. The air was heavy with smoke. Fire. Her pulse jacked, ragged breaths spewing out of her mouth. She scratched her arms, a flimsy attempt at smothering the flames consuming her body.

Someone grabbed her wrists, pressing them to her thighs. “Open your eyes.”

She couldn’t. The light would burn her eyes. It would leave her blind. She had to get away from it. She had to find somewhere safe. With a choked cry, she tried to free her arms.

“It’s me.” The grip around her wrists loosened. “Open your eyes, Clara.”

She knew that voice. It had a light accent she’d often found pleasing. She did as told. Tamer sat close to her, his face lined with worry. Twin hilts peeked from his shoulders. He’d taken his scimitar.

 “Promise me you won’t hurt yourself,” he said.

She’d left long pink lines along her exposed arms. There had been a fire burning her body. No, not a fire. Light. What light? Tamer applied a small pressure on the back of her hands, startling her. She didn’t trust her voice so she nodded at him.  

He released her wrists then gave her a flask. “Drink it.”

She took slow sips. Cool water soothed the sting of thirst along her dry throat. She handed him the bottle. Tamer tied the strap below its rim it to his belt.

A ring of shadows circled the coliseum. In the center, a roaring campfire drenched the arena in orange. She was hunched against a wall in the arena, her lower body coated in a thin film of dust. Three beasts lay dead from the other side.

The length of her trousers had been torn from her knee to her ankle. Her left leg had been healed. No scar blemished her skin. She touched her shin, shivering at the memory of teeth sinking into flesh.

“Where are Rai and Eryx?” She patted her side pocket then remembered Tamer had also taken Rai’s gun before she had fainted.

“Probably in the hypogeum.”

She’d never heard of such a word. Rai and Eryx weren’t anywhere in the arena or in the rows of seats circling them. 

 “You were mumbling in your sleep.” Tamer picked a piece of wood and threw it at the fire.

“What did I say?”

“I couldn’t hear you.” He cocked his chin at her leg. “How are you feeling?”

She felt lost. Confused. “I’m fine.”

“The truth, Clara.”

“The truth…” The word sent a shrill of alarm in her thoughts. There was a tear in the blackness of her mind, a jagged gap wide enough to release scraps of images. Starless sky, black and hollow. Blinding light, white and fiery.

“Naaji’s entity spoke to me!” She’d been told something urgent, something she wasn’t supposed to forget. She searched for the memory, for that white light and black sky. The tear sealed shut like a flower closing at dusk. “I can’t remember it!”

Tamer reached for her shoulders then stopped himself. “Calm down.”

She squinted through the darkness in her mind. A blackhole had sucked away the vision, leaving a chasm that sparked a headache. She pressed the pads of her thumbs over her temple.

Clara wished Timothy was there with her. He knew how to fix things. Once, when she’d been eleven years old, she had thrown a stone at a bird’s nest by accident. She’d feared the mother bird would nip at her face and leave bald patches on her head.Timothy had helped her mould a nest from twigs and dry grass and settle it back on the tree. He had fixed her broken doll when it fell from her balcony prior to her twelfth birthday. And when she’d stolen all the bonbons in the kitchen a few weeks later, he’d taken the blame and gotten an earful from Josephine.

I miss home.

She had to find the lost truth. It was important. Naaji’s entity had told her about the seals. Something they had not known. She had been promised a way back to Earth if she fulfilled the entity’s request. Whatever it was, she couldn’t remember it. 

The headache pitched up, a warning she shouldn’t nudge her mind. Squeezing her locket, she filled her lungs with air. “Why can’t I remember?”   

“Don’t force yourself,” Tamer said. “It will come to you.”

He cradled the base of her skull, strong fingers massaging the nape of her neck. She watched the firelight dancing in his cat-slit eyes, the shadows swirling along his nose, his cheekbones, his jawline, his mouth… The world blurred around her until it was just the two of them and the air between them.

Clara's hands itched with the need to invite themselves on his shoulders. She closed her palms to fists. A sudden anticipation ran the length of her body, one that had nothing to do with the white light or black sky. She leaned forward, closer to the heat of his body, then rested her forehead against his chest.

Tamer scooted back.

Her breath caught sharply. He had taken her fear and worry but given them back when he had moved away. The hazy world regained its sharp focus. A crackling fire, a horde of corpses, a mound of dust.

He was on his feet when he spoke in a voice low and raspy. “Feeling better?”

“Yes."

“Let’s find the seal.”

She stood up, dusted her clothes and followed him through a wide door tucked below the podium. She would focus on nothing but the seal for now. 

I’m sorry I forgot what you told me. I promise I will remember it.

She hoped Naaji’s entity had heard her. Clara had every intention of fulfilling that promise.

“We’ve cleared the area,” Tamer said. “Stay alert though.”

How long had she passed out? Two hours. Three? The last time she’d counted the beasts, they had been less than twenty.

They descended a steep of stairs, the tap of their footfalls cushioned by a thick coating of dust. Blue orbs hang on the narrow walls all the way to the subterranean level below the arena. A series of shafts divided the area into cubicles.  

“This is the hypogeum,” Tamer said.

Cages had been cramped into spaces, some filled with skeletons while others left empty, rusted doors pried open. A section of the hypogeum had been dedicated to a pulley system and a broken elevator. Clara frowned as they passed a dead beast at the exit. Its limp hand brushed against her foot. She resisted kneeling down to confirm her leg had truly been healed.

They sauntered into a wide courtyard. An oval empty pool sat at the center, huddled in a circle of cracked stone benches. The courtyard was punctured by six archways including the one they had passed through. Above each archway was a single symbol.

“The machine room.” Tamer pointed at the symbol of a cog. “The barracks.” Its symbol was a house. “The sanitarium.” This one had a cross sign. “That’s just a tunnel used by the royal family to enter the coliseum.” Two straight lines sat atop the entrance.

Clara glanced over her shoulder. The symbol behind her showed a circle, reminiscent of the arena.

“Ahead is the spoilarium,” Tamer faced the archway, a sign of a triangle crossed by an X engraved above it.  “It’s where the dead warriors were stripped off their armor and left for their relatives to collect them.”

“I’m not going in there,” she said.

Tamer chuckled. “I knew you would say that.”  He woke Mecha from its sleep. It jumped on his shoulder.

“You missed all the action.” She pinched the biomechabot.

Mecha squealed at her.

Tamer stalked to the spoilarium, turning his head to the side. “I’m going to visit the dead.”

Mecha darted away from him, shrieking like a shrilly trumpet. Clara allowed herself a grudging smile. The bug flew all over the courtyard, soaring across walls inscribed in arcane hieroglyphics and ancient paintings.   

Clara sought her magic. The rush of energy had never felt so good. She scattered several orbs to the ceiling, letting them float between the blue orbs.

She beckoned Mecha. “Let’s check the machine room.”

The bug followed her into the dark archway. The room was cluttered with machines of all sizes and shapes. Mecha lit its domed body, hopping from one metal tin to another, her amber glow illuminating a spool of wires crawling over the left wall.

There were abandoned elevator platforms, stacked in a column, their silver plates corroded by red rust. The little bug crashed into a tool box. Wooden cogs and blunt nails rolled over the floor. Five pulley machines fitted with copper gears and thin rods took up most of the space. Clara spent a few minutes searching for the seal. There wasn't anything fascinating.

Sauntering to the barracks, she conjured more orbs. She found Eryx staring at the old building, hands fiddling with a dagger. She went to him, sidestepping a corpse sprawled on the foot of the steps.

“Amazing.” Eryx climbed the steps, pausing before the closed entrance.

The walls, doors and windows of the barracks were made of reddish-brown metal. Four sun disks sat in place of the door hinges. Inside the disks were sigils. Eryx rotated one of them, a clicking noise sputtering out of its innards.

“What are these?” Clara prodded the sun disks.

“Locks made from alchemy.” Eryx eyed the barracks with admiration. “Even after thousands of years, this building stands strong.”

She pressed her fingertips to the metallic door. A small layer of crystal materialized above it but it crumbled and fell at her feet. Her jaw slackened. “It’s resisting the transformation.”

Eryx smiled. “That’s because it’s made of sunstone. No magic can break the building. As for the door, you need the right lock combination to open it.”

“Can’t you pick the locks?”

“No. It’s impossible.”

“Impossible?” she asked.

Eryx’s eyebrow rose towards his hairline. “Why, yes. The ones with the knowledge of the lock combination are long dead.”

They walked back to the courtyard. Tamer joined them at the pool. Clara hoped the seal wasn’t hidden in the barracks. She scratched her head. If the sunstone resisted magic, didn’t that mean the seal was protected from everyone or was the coliseum much older? If it was older then Naaji couldn’t have hidden it in the barracks because he wouldn't have known the lock combination.   

Rai walked out of the armory. He looked haggard, clothes torn and dirtied, rifle hanging from a loose belt strap.

“Did you find anything?” Tamer asked. 

“Nothing in there, man.”  He shook his head. “The roof collapsed on the building.”

They both stared at the archway forlornly. Clara was also intrigued by the armory. She could have taken a few weapons for herself—partly as a keepsake and for personal use— and sold the fancy ones for Aurion money.

What did the old Zamari call the coins? she mused. Rus? Ah, rasi.

Eryx studied the markings on the walls. They were painted in black ink. Clara had no idea what they meant.  

“It’s in Amzara,” Tamer said, having noticed the Zamari’s interest.

“You can read that?” Rai tilted his head in question.

“That language has been lost to us for thousands of years,” Eryx said. “Where did you learn it?”

Tamer shrugged. “I don’t remember. A tutor might have taught me when I was a prince. My father—” he snorted “—the king hired the best tutors in the kingdom.”

Eryx scrubbed his jaw with two fingers. Clara remembered Tamer had read the riddle in Ibisa Mountains before they’d fought the giant. She hadn’t paid much attention to it, having assumed any native would know it.

 “As far as I know, no one speaks it,” Eryx said.

“I do.”

“Oh, you lecherous rake.” Rai whistled.

Tamer sighed. “That would be you.”

Eryx caught himself and pressed his lips shut, cheeks swelling up.

“You traded secrets with Nahut.” Rai pretended he hadn’t heard Tamer’s response. “What did you do with her, eh?”

“Nahut?” Her voice was sharp and cold.

“Goddess of secrets and bargains.” Rai’s eyes shone with lust. “The most beautiful in the entire universe. I hear she has a—”

Tamer said something in Shimian and although she couldn’t understand him, she caught a word that sounded similar to “blasphemy.” So he hadn’t done what Rai was insinuating. She unclenched her teeth and blew out a breath.

Rai’s only response was a shrug.

“What about the Great Scribe?” Clara asked. “He recognized the sigils in my necklace.”

There was a brief silence that was shattered by Mecha’s squeaks. It hovered over Tamer’s pocket. He fed it small pieces of solidified aether.

“What do the glyphs say?” Eryx sat on a large rock.

“The origin of life.”

“Like the nursery rhyme Freya forced us to memorize?” Rai asked.

Tamer nodded. “Good times.”

Rai narrowed his eyes to slits. “You mean the ones where you ate all my food?”

“In exchange for covering your back.” Tamer smirked.

“I never asked for your help,” Rai scoffed.

“Ingrate.”

“Thief.”

Clara laughed.

Eryx cleared his throat. “We haven’t got all day, you know?”

Tucking his fingers into the pocket of his trousers, Tamer read the glyphs. He spoke in Amzara, his lulling tone pacifying Mecha. It stopped squealing and settled in the empty pool. There was something familiar about the way his voice rose and lowered. It was as if Clara had heard the language before.

When he finished, Tamer translated the glyphs. “The universe was alone, a black void floating in space and time. He bemoaned his solitude for a thousand years, begging the gods for a companion. Anahita, one of the goddesses, felt pity for him so she descended from the heavens to offer him company. While she flew down, her flame-wings went out.”

Clara looked at the painting of a woman flying down, her burning wings covered in black fumes. The next painting depicted the goddess being surrounded by a black circle.

“The universe caught her in his arms. The two became the very best of friends. As years and years passed, Anahita missed her family. She could not return to the heavens for she had lost her wings. Alone, she was weak, cut off from the power of the gods. Knowing Anahita would soon die, the universe wept for his friend. Anahita chose to sacrifice herself so that the universe would never be alone.”

She eyed the painting of Anahita spreading her arms wide, her eyes closed.

“And so, her tears became the oceans,” Tamer said. “Her hair, the sky. Her eyes, the twin moons. Her voice, the wind. Her flesh, the soil. Anahita’s blood poured out, trickling down the soil, sinking into the oceans. From the soil, plants grew and from the oceans, seaforms thrived. Her heart split open to release the races. Her bones formed the rocks and mountains. At last, Findora was born.”

They all raised their heads to look at the picture of the planet.

“The goddess’ soul scattered across the universe to form the stars and from the stars, the sun emerged. Through Anahita’s sacrifice, the universe was never alone again.” Tamer walked from pockets of blue and white light, stopping at the biggest painting of Anahita. It was put separate from the others. “Out of everything she had given him, her last breath was the most precious. It was aether, the source of magic.”

Rai groaned. “I prefer that awful nursery rhyme to this.”

Clara patted his back. She didn’t believe in the tale but it did leave her feeling sad. Anahita had sacrificed herself to make the universe happy but she couldn’t imagine the universe being pleased with it. Why would he be happy when he had lost a dear friend?

“Has anyone checked the sanitarium?” Eryx asked.

No one had. There were no beasts waiting for them with open jaws when they stepped inside. The sanitarium was lined with rows of metal bedframes. Most of the mattresses had been shredded by claw-marks and the ones that had been left untouched had stained sheets. Tufts of feathers spilled out of torn pillows. A tangle of rusted stands took residence in one corner and a pile of carts took another.

Eryx wandered to a medical cabinet. He took some of the vials lining the shelves. Tamer picked at a tray of surgical tools with his knife. Mecha played with a strip of peeling paint.

“Found anything interesting?” Rai asked her.

“No.”

Clara noticed each of the beds had a small shelf and on top of the shelf was a candleholder. She stopped at a rusted bed and picked up a candlestick. Eryx came to stand beside her.

“In the olden days, it was believed that lighting a flame near a sick person chases Death away.” Eryx said. “Death does not have the lure of Sleep, the intelligence of Age or the persistence of Disease.” He took the candleholder and set it back. “But Death is cunning. Sometimes, not even the flames can stop him from taking the souls of the diseased.”

Clara shuddered at the thought of death. She had come close to it ever since she’d stepped foot on Aurion.

They climbed the stairs to the first floor. It mirrored the ground floor. The only exception was a prayer alcove on the farthest end of the room. Within the alcove, a broken sculpture rose from a pedestal and behind it, a line of eight sconces was plastered to the wall.

“Strange,” Rai said. “Look at the colors.”

The design of the sconces was the same but the glass was of different colors. She’d seen those colors before only a few minutes earlier. Rai rushed back to the courtyard. She caught up with him a minute later. They stood in front of the largest painting of Anahita.

The goddess blinked at her, brown dress flowing down her body, fastened at her waist by a green belt. Her black hair fluttered over her shoulders, a dark halo around a pale sky. Blue tears slipped down her vacant white eyes, sinking into the red heart on her bosom. Stars surrounded her in a swirl of pale smoke like yellow moths drawn to a flame.  

Clara snorted, blaming the shadows for playing tricks with her eyes. The white orbs glowed brighter, expanding in their round bodies.

“What are you thinking?” She poked his arm.

He grinned. “The goddess has the answers.”