Ben's face lit up. "Yeah. My sister, Emmaline. She lives in the First Dimension. She's an accountant."
"Is she on her Second Life?"
"Nope. She never wanted to join the Alliance. She wanted college and eventually a family. She lives on Long Island. My parents are terribly disappointed in her too but at least they still talk to her."
"Your parents sound like gems," Justas said dryly.
"I know, right? I guess they had us only for the sake of the Alliance. Breeding to produce more warriors."
I flinched at the bitterness in Ben's voice. Trying to bring him back around to a subject he clearly enjoyed, I asked, "So, do you see Emmaline a lot?"
Ben's expression softened. "I do. Usually every week. We're pretty tight."
"That's awesome," Justas said. "I'm tight with my brothers, too."
I wouldn't know about siblings since I was an only child. I thought about what it would have been like to grow up with someone that I could have played with, and shared secrets with. Then a small voice interrupted my thoughts. It was Emerson.
"I had a sister, too."
All of us looked at Emerson, deathly still as she continued to talk. "She died...along with my parents." Emerson's eyes were round and slightly vacant. She was staring at the floor and her words were emotionless. I felt bile rise in my throat over the pain Emerson's memories must cause her.
"What happened?" I whispered.
With her eyes still trained on the floor, Emerson inhaled a shaky breath and let it out slowly.
"I was a baby when they died. I really don't remember my parents or my sister. They got caught in the crossfire of a gang turf war in our neighborhood. I was the only one that escaped the bullets that cut through our house."
Justas got up from his seat and went to sit beside Emerson. He put his arm around her and pulled her in close. "That is really tough, kiddo. I'm sorry."
She looked up from the floor to Justas and nodded at him. "Thanks. Like I said, I don't remember them or the night they died. I went to live with my grandmother after that. I have vague memories of her. She was really nice."
Emerson was opening up to us and I knew there was more to her story. I prompted her. "How did you end up on the streets then?"
"You know the system, Charlie. My grandmother died when I was four years old and I got shuffled from foster home to foster home. When I was fifteen, one of my foster brothers thought he could..." She trailed off, not sure of the right words to say. But I knew what happened.
"It's okay. You don't have to say it. What did you do after that?"
"I ran away and never looked back. I couldn't go to a shelter, because they would put me back into the system. So I slept in bus stations, stole food from garbage cans and basically kept running. Until Sebastian found me and offered me a life here in Semper Terra."
I noted there was no sadness or self-pity in her voice. Emerson had proved herself time and time again to the other recruits that she was a force to be reckoned with. She saw her past as exactly what it was...just a past. It helped to define who she was but she wasn't going to let it rule her now.
"You know," Justas piped in. "I think we need to officially replace Charlie as the numero uno bad-ass in our class. Sorry, Charlie...Emerson has you beat hands down."
Everyone laughed, including me. "You know, I think you may be right!"
A knock at the door put our little party on hold. I went to answer it and was surprised to find Dane standing there. He was holding up a six pack of beer and a sheepish expression on his face.
"’Sup," he said.
"Hey. Come on in."
I stood back and let him enter. I had not talked to Dane much since his field trials. It was difficult seeing as how he hung with Payton and her crew.
Dane was a mystery to me. He clearly was a good guy. You could tell Payton's bitchiness and spite did not set well with him. I mean, he was completely antithetical to her. Dane was open and friendly with everyone. Payton was haughty and mean. Again, I didn't understand why he was with her but who knew what made men tick.
Everyone welcomed Dane in, except for Emerson. She had a wary expression on her face and I'm sure it had to do with the fact that Dane was dating Payton. He was apparently guilty by association.
"I hope you don't mind me crashing. Justas told me you all were hanging together tonight. I brought more beer." He held up the six pack.
"Sure, the more the merrier." I took the six pack from him, after he pulled a bottle out for himself, and put it in my fridge. "Pizza's on the counter. Help yourself."
Dane grabbed a slice of pizza and leaned up against the kitchen counter. I had to admire again how handsome he was. His blue eyes popped against his tan skin and his hair was all mussy, in almost a perfect sort of way.
"So why aren't you out tonight partying with Payton and her crew," Justas asked.
Dane got an exasperated look on his face. "Sometimes it's like having your fingernails pulled out hanging with those people. I just...I'm just getting tired of their crap."
I nodded my head in sage agreement then took another sip of my second wine cooler. "I don't get it Dane. Why do you hang with them?"
Dane shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his beer. "I don't know. I guess I've just always been friends with them. And Payton hasn't always been this way."
"You mean a snobby bitch?" Emerson asked.
I choked on my wine cooler when she said that. Little girl had teeth. She was looking at Dane as if daring him to deny it. And he didn't but he was defensive.
"I'm telling you, she hasn't always been this way. But, she and I have been together a long time. It's sometimes hard to break away, you know?"
I didn't know. I had never had a relationship outside of Caiden. I was with Caiden because he was kind, strong, funny, dangerous, sexy and lots of other reasons. But would I be with him if he tore people down the way Payton did? If he was cold and heartless? Absolutely not. I figured that Dane must see something in Payton that nobody else did. It wasn't up to me to judge him for that. He was a good guy and that's all I needed to know.
We ended up having a blast that night which helped to keep my mind off of Caiden. While he was probably the most capable man I knew, it didn't stop me from worrying about him when he was off battling evil. Coupled with the guilt I still carried over my parents' murders, it made me more determined than ever to be the best fighter I could be.
Chapter 20
To be the best fighter I could possibly be for the Alliance, I needed to excel in my classes. And I was...for the most part. I had always been a good student so the theoretical studies were not a problem. What was surprising, given the two left feet I inherited from my dad, was how adept I was becoming in the use of weapons and hand-to-hand combat. I know much of it had to do with the magic that coursed through Semper Terra. It gave me strength, stamina, coordination and almost an innate gut instinct on how to fight. Still, I was more than a little proud that I was at the top of my class when it came to those studies.
The one class that I had problems with was Magical Skills. I understood the theory, no problem. I aced all of my tests. But when it came to the practical application of creating and hurling spells at an opponent, I wasn't as spot on as I could be. In other words, I was pretty horrible.
One day in class, we were working on how to battle two daimons at once. The exercise involved close melee battle with our weapons, while another daimon stalked us on the perimeter. Disclaimer: actual daimons were not involved. Instead, instructors and mentors joined us in class to play the role of daimons.
When it was my turn, Bashir gave me some general advice before sending me against my opponents. I was using a wooden battle axe so as not to inadvertently decapitate one of the teachers. My goal was to defeat my closest opponent with my battle axe while hurling a spell toward the other daimon to disable it. The spells we used in class were only of the incapacitating variety and I basically concentrated on using a lethargy spell that would slow the
other daimon/instructor down.
My problem was that I would get so wrapped up in my melee battle, that I was haphazard when slinging my lethargy spell. As the class all stood around the perimeter of the room to watch my exercise, I was sweating from nervousness. The one instructor came at me time and again, and I was able to parry with various defensive moves to hold him at bay.
After making a swipe at the instructor's stomach with my wooden axe, I launched the lethargy spell at the other. It went wide—by about three feet—and I watched in horror as it caught Payton in the chest. I watched her sway back and forth then crumble to the floor.
It's not that I minded dropping Payton to the floor. There was a tiny bit of glee. Okay, there was a lot of glee. But I was horrified to have done so poorly and it was a blow to my ego.
"Halt!" Bashir called out. I watched as the two instructors walked over to Payton and helped her to her feet. My spell was strong and she could barely keep her eyes opened. She wobbled over to a chair and was eased down into it. I heard someone snicker and I knew without looking that it was Justas. I actually had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing.
Bashir came to stand in the middle of the room. Using me as an example, he spoke to the class. "What went wrong here with Charlie's battle?"
No one said anything for a second then I saw Emerson tentatively raise her hand. "Miss Potts?"
"Well, Charlie is phenomenal with her weapon. It's almost like it's a part of her." Emerson's voice was filled with pride as she made that observation about me. "But she's refusing to give equal attention to her magic. I mean...she's relying too much on her physical battle skills."
Bashir smiled at Emerson. "Very astute."
He then turned to me. "I think Miss Potts is on to something here. I want to try a new exercise."
Bashir motioned the instructors to take up their positions again. Then Bashir looked at me.
"Now, I'm going to ask one of the instructors to attack you with their sword. I'm going to ask them to make a killing blow to your neck...to decapitate you. And I don't want you to defend it. That means you are not to raise your battle axe." The entire class gasped and my stomach dropped. "I want you to only concentrate on throwing your lethargy spell at the other instructor. If you can hit the other instructor before the blade reaches your neck, he will stop his killing blow. Is that clear?"
I glanced at the instructor who was taking down a steel broadsword from the wall. He looked at me with a determined look in his eye. A quick wave of nausea hit me and my legs felt like Jello. Mutely, I just nodded at Bashir.
"Very well. Take your places."
He placed the instructors on opposite sides of the room and pointed at me to stand in the middle.
"Now, concentrate only on the spell, Charlie. Allow no attention or focus on the sword. It's unimportant."
Easy for him to say. He wasn't about to get his head chopped off. However, I turned and faced the instructor that I was to hit with my magic, giving my back to the instructor that had the sword. I relaxed my grip on the battle axe, so much so that it was in danger of slipping from my hand.
While my hold on the axe was relaxed, the rest of my body was so tense, that when Bashir yelled, "Go", I involuntarily jumped backward. For a split second, I thought I would turn to face my attacker but then an inner voice screamed at me—MAGIC—and I brought forth the spell in my mind.
Raising my right hand, I pulled forth the magic needed for my attack and at the same time I heard a whistling sound by my ear, catching the glint of steel as it arced toward my neck. Ignoring the sword, I launched my power at the instructor in front of me, feeling it fly straight and true toward my target. I watched as it caught the instructor in his chest with enough force to knock him backward by about five feet.
I then heard a thwack, followed by a collective gasp from the students around the room. I realized that the sword was stopped from reaching my neck, not by the instructor's volition, but by my battle axe that had been raised to defend the blow. My breath came out in a rush and I trembled just a bit. I had no recollection of raising my weapon. In fact, I purposely remembered ignoring the axe and concentrating fully on my spell.
"Very good, Charlie," I heard Bashir say. "That is what you have to do in any given situation. Trust your instincts with your weapon, since that is your forte. Put your concentration into your magic."
I looked at Bashir dumbfounded. "I don't understand. What just happened?"
"Exactly what I just said. You have an intrinsic and natural ability when it comes to your physical combat skills. Trust your body to know what to do. I don't think it will let you down."
I looked over at Emerson and she gave me a double thumbs-up. I chuckled. What an exercise and what a lesson learned. Bashir called an end to class and everyone started filing out.
I went over to gather my stuff and turned to find Bashir watching me. "I hope you're okay with that exercise I put you through, Charlie."
"Well, it's not every day you have to avoid getting decapitated."
Bashir chuckled. "You were in no danger, my dear. All of the swords in here are very dull. It wouldn't have taken your head off...completely that is."
Well, that was some comfort, I guess. Still, I was a little bummed that my magical skills weren't coming as naturally as my weapons and hand-to-hand skills. Particularly because I had been harboring the thought that I had some inner magic in me. I mean, why else could I see daimons in the First Dimension before I ever even came to Semper Terra?
"I almost forgot, Charlie." He pulled a small book out of his trouser pockets. "I found something you might find of interest. One of my fellow Elders gave this to me."
I reached out and took the book. It looked pretty old. Opening it up, I could see it was written in English and appeared to be a diary. I looked at him with questioning eyes.
"This is a diary that was in our Relics Hall here on the island. I haven't read it but the Elder who gave it to me says there is an account in there of a young boy who lived in the First Dimension and could see daimons. He apparently was thought to be insane."
I started flipping through the pages. An early entry caught my eye.
"It happened again. I was working the fields when mama called me in for lunch. A stranger had been passing by and was often our custom, we offered food and lodging. The man was old and hunched with a dirty coat over his shoulders for protection from the elements. This time of year, rain would soon be falling almost every day. He sat at our kitchen table, bent over a bowl of soup. When I sat down beside him, he looked up and it happened again. His face fell away and I was staring into the eyes of evil. I didn't say anything this time as I knew I would get a beating from papa if I mentioned it. I tried to eat my soup but the menace pouring off of the stranger made me ill and I had to feign tiredness so I could retire..."
I flipped to the front of the book and saw written on the first yellowed page—Harold Penshire, 1909. This accounting was over a hundred years old and I wondered where the boy lived in the First Dimension.
I looked up at Bashir. He looked excited. "Take it, Charlie. Go ahead and read it and then let's talk soon. I am interested to hear more about this boy that seemed to be able to see daimons outside of Semper Terra."
"Thank you, Bashir. I will start reading it right away. Have you been able to find out anything else?"
"Nothing much. Except, Sebastian came to see me the other day about you.”
“What did he want?”
“He apparently had gone to Sarah about your ability that first day he brought you to Semper Terra. In fact, he was so excited about it he went to Sarah immediately after he handed you off to Caiden for your tour. She had told him she would ask me about it. When he had not heard anything more, he came to me for follow up." Bashir paused, his brow furrowed. "I wonder why, though, Sarah never mentioned it to me?"
Indeed. I was wondering the same thing. So, she clearly knew about my ability when I met her on the field that first da
y, as Sebastian had already been to see her. Is that why she didn't like me? Because I had a unique skill? I just didn't get why that would bother her. You would think she'd be thrilled to have a student with some natural talent.
I thanked Bashir again for the book and promised to get back with him as soon as I finished it.
Chapter 21
Classes were officially over. All of the theory had been pounded into our heads. All of the offensive and defensive battle skills had been taught to us. There were only two weeks left until our field trials and that time was to be used for practice.
Although our field trials would pit each recruit one-on-one with a daimon, we would spend the next two weeks testing our skills against real evil. This would be done in what was called "controlled circumstances". The recruits would go out in teams of three along with instructors where we would battle a captured and tagged daimon. We would go in groups so we could learn how to work with others and also to give us confidence for our one-on-one battles at the field trials.
It was Sunday afternoon and I was on edge. The next day I would be in my first real fight. Caiden and I had just finished a training session and were walking back to my apartment.
"I'm not sure I'm ready," I blurted out.
"Nonsense. You train and work harder than anyone else in your class. You're more than ready." He sounded confident in my abilities but it wasn't reaching that small knot of fear in my chest. What if I couldn't protect myself? What was even worse...what if I couldn't help to protect my teammates that would be battling with me? I didn't know if I could survive someone getting killed on my watch. Not after what happened to my parents.
I didn't say anything and Caiden halted me with his hand on my arm. "Hey. You are going to do fine. Trust me."
I looked into his eyes and I could see that he felt the veracity of that statement. I just wish I did. As confident as I had performed throughout our classes over the last few months, I felt like I didn't know a damn thing as I prepared to enter the fight for real.
Forever Young (The Forever Land Chronicles) Page 16
