When the din of daily life was taken away, the sound of his breath remained. In and out it went. Cavaar wondered each time he exhaled if it would be his last.
The students huddled together in the Black Chamber. According to Myriel the pressure was greater than they were used to, and Cavaar could feel it. His limbs moved as if they were underwater and his ears were constantly popping. There was something else also, as if a firm hand was nudging him towards the center of the room.
When the door swung open, no one had moved. The torch was a scant source of light in the best conditions, but in the Chamber light was eaten by the walls and floor. The flame only illuminated the student's faces and hands. Cavaar had been in the dark. He had lived through many nights with only the moon for light, and when the moon descended below the horizon he had thought no deeper blackness could exist. He had spent many of those moons shivering in some corner of Seagrim, hoping not to be found by the city guard, but this? This was more than the absence of light, this was the Black.
"Hey," Cavaar jumped at the voice. In the oppression of the Black it felt like a violation. "Good job at the evaluation, you guys deserved that win." It was Isadora. Cavaar realized she was speaking from beside him. "Never got to tell you," she added.
"Ah thanks," Cavaar said. "We wanted it for Maria. She... was special."
"Don't have to tell me," said Sloan. "Lost count how many times she KOed me in the maze." The others offered words of agreement and fell silent. Cavaar felt the Black smiling out at them, waiting.
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