Skyborn

by David Dalglish

  Bree cast her eyes downward.

  “Understood, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  The instructor sighed.

  “Fly two quick laps around the field, then return to the sheds. I don’t need to babysit a bored natural.”

  “Actually, I was hoping I could stay and help…” His glare silenced her. “Yes sir. I’ll finish and go.”

  Kael made eye contact with his sister as she turned to go.

  It’ll be all right, he mouthed to her. She smiled, but he could tell she was upset at being dismissed a second day in a row. Instructor Dohn turned his way, and Kael quickly resumed practicing to spare himself similar wrath.

  “Looking fine, Kael, though don’t push the switch so fast at the bottom,” the instructor said as he hovered nearby. “You want an easy, gentle stop, not a hard yank that might throw off your aim.”

  “I’ll try,” Kael said as he rose for another attempt, keenly aware of the instructor’s eyes following him. Just before three seconds Kael pulled back the throttle so it was barely pushing power from the light element to the wings, and he dropped as smoothly as he’d risen. Two seconds down, he eased the throttle forward… realizing too late he’d misjudged, and it wouldn’t be enough to stop him in time. He struck the ground with a hard jolt to his knees and ankles, and his teeth rattled.

  Instead of appearing upset, Instructor Dohn chuckled.

  “Now you see why we practice,” he said, continuing on to where Brad hovered nearby. Kael felt his mouth go dry. While he’d worried what Dohn might say about him, he worried even more how he might react to his roommate. Brad had struggled all yesterday, with not a single kind word given. Would today be any better?

  “Though sometimes it seems even practice won’t help,” Dohn said as he killed his wings and dropped to his feet before Brad. “What’s the matter, Seraph?”

  “Having trouble with stopping,” Brad said. Defeat was already in his normally cheerful voice.

  “And you know why, don’t you?” the instructor asked. “You’re too heavy for your wings. There’s no secret trick to this, Bradford, just a plain and simple truth: fat don’t fly.”

  Brad’s neck flushed red, and several of the other students snickered. Ignoring them all, Brad dropped, counted to two, and then powered his wings. He overcompensated, his halt sudden enough to jar his neck and jerk his arms. When it happened, Brad eased up in hopes of lessening the effect, which only made his sudden stop turn into a momentary jarring before the second, equally brutal hit upon the grass. Brad cursed as he fell to his knees.

  “God almighty, it’s like putting wings on a pig,” Dohn said. “Your momentum’s too great, Seraph. It’s going to put a strain on both your body and your wings. Maybe you can learn how to ease into your turns even earlier, but until then, you’ve got a lot of hard knocks coming your way.”

  Brad rose to his feet, wiping at grass stains on the knees of his pants.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I can handle the hits, though, I promise.”

  “Big oxen like you often can, but it won’t be enough. Once we start the more complicated maneuvers, you’ve got a prayer’s chance of staying in formation with the rest of your classmates.”

  Instructor Dohn flew on. Kael began his next drill, which involved tilting his upper body right, flying into the air, then dropping down, tilting left, and flying up to effectively form a sideways eight that had him finishing where he first started. Brad worked on the first, rising and falling, rising and falling, and it seemed each time he hit ground it took a little more out of him. When Instructor Dohn called for them to quit, Kael had done twenty reps of seven different drills. Brad remained on the first, still unable to come to a smooth, painless halt.

  All throughout class the rest of the day, Kael caught Brad moping, his mind clearly elsewhere. When they ended for the day, Kael asked him if he wanted to join him for supper.

  “Probably shouldn’t,” his friend said. “This ox needs to lose some weight, remember?”

  Kael didn’t know how to respond. When he joined Bree at a table, where she sat alone, she glanced about.

  “Brad not joining us?” she asked.

  “Doesn’t seem like it.”

  Bree frowned.

  “What’s the matter? Something happen at practice?”

  “You could say that,” Kael said, grabbing a sliced apple wedge and biting it in half. “He had trouble controlling his wings, and the instructor rode him pretty damn hard about it.”

  “If he wants some extra practice, I’d be glad to help,” Bree said. “It’d be nice to do some work without Instructor Dohn glaring at me.”

  “I’ll see,” Kael said. “I doubt it, but I’ll see.”

  When they finished, he returned to their apartment as the sun was just starting to set. Brad lay on his bed, an open book beside him. His eyes were hidden by one of his beefy arms. Kael pulled off one boot as he glanced at the title. Beginning Aerial Maneuvers (Earth Affinity Edition).

  “Sounds like thrilling reading,” Kael said.

  Brad lowered his arm, rolled his eyes.

  “It’s not,” he said. “Not that it matters. I’ve been here two days, and I’m already close to failing out.”

  “Look, you’re not going to fail just because the instructor called you a name.”

  “No,” Brad said, sitting up. “I’m going to fail because my damn wings won’t work right because of my fat ass.”

  While Kael had felt uncomfortable during the earlier humiliation, now he felt furious, particularly at Instructor Dohn. Brad’s arms were thick with muscle, as was his chest. If it came to a brawl, Kael would have put his money on Brad over everyone else in his class.

  “You’re not fat,” he said. “You know that. You’re big, and you’re strong.”

  “Does it matter what you call it? I’m sorry, Kael, but even after I showed earth affinity, the tester warned me this might happen. I just… I have to accept it. That’s all. Not like I ever wanted to be a Seraph anyway.”

  For not wanting to be one, he looked devastated by the idea of failing out. If anything, he looked ready to cry. Kael put his back to the wall and slid down to the floor, arms resting on his knees.

  “If you don’t want to be one, then why is it such a big deal?” he asked.

  Brad plopped back onto his bed, and he groaned as he stared up at the ceiling.

  “It’s…” He paused, fighting for the words. “It’s my parents. We’re fishermen, Kael. Been fishermen for generations. I’ve been lifting and slinging fish ever since I was five. There’s never been a single Seraph in my family, not one. Hell, they almost didn’t bother sending me for the affinity test in the first place. But when I came home, and told them I’d been accepted…”

  He shook his head.

  “My mom started crying. Kept saying how proud she was of me. Same with my dad. So proud. So happy. Someone in our family would make something of themselves, they said, as if what we do means nothing, like being a fisherman is such a damn insult. I don’t care one bit about the Seraphim, Kael. Under normal circumstances, I’d have punched Dohn in his mouth to show him the difference between fat and muscle, then marched straight home. But to disappoint my parents like that… it ain’t right. Not that it matters at this point, though. Fat don’t fly? Goddamn, what a prick.”

  He rolled over, putting his back to him. Kael stared, mind whirring, plan forming.

  “I’ll be at Bree’s apartment,” he said, rising back to his feet. “Good night, Brad.”

  “Good night.”

  The next morning, before the midnight fire had fully dissipated, Kael flung Brad’s uniform onto his chest and then kicked his bed. Brad woke with a start, sucking in air as he looked around.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Get up,” Kael said, tossing Brad’s boots onto the bed as well. “We’re going running.”

  Brad glanced at the window, saw how early it was.

  “Now?” he asked.

&nbs
p; “Now.”

  “And if I say no?”

  Kael kicked the bed again.

  “You’re not dropping out, you’re not giving up, and you’re definitely not going back to bed. Now get up, and let’s go.”

  His friend muttered curses under his breath, but he complied. Once he was dressed, the two stepped out into the cool morning air. The very tip of the sun was beginning to appear, the smoky remnants of the fire and darkness starting to thin because of it. Kael’s stomach felt like a rock, and his head ached from not near enough sleep, but he ignored it as best he could. Neither in the mood for conversation, they walked to the center bridge. Bree waited there, and unlike them, she had a grin on her face.

  “Aren’t you two a chipper bunch?” she said.

  “Not enough beauty sleep,” Brad mumbled.

  After taking a minute to stretch, they ran north alongside the stream that split the academy, then curled westward, following the stone wall. Kael kept glancing over his shoulder, and when Brad fell behind, he turned and ran to his side.

  “That it?” Bree called back to them. “I guess I’ll see you two again when I lap you.”

  “You going to take that from her?” Kael asked as his friend sucked in air. “Muscle, not fat, remember? Let’s see what shape a fisherman’s really in.”

  “We lift, we carry, and we chop,” Brad said as he walked. “We don’t run.”

  Kael grinned.

  “Well, you do now, Seraph.”

  For the first time that morning, Brad laughed.

  “You’re a dick, Kael.”

  “You, too, Brad.”

  Despite his exhaustion, despite the redness of his face, Brad picked up the pace, running along the edges of the academy, running until the sun rose, the shadows faded, and the true morning rituals and training could begin.

  CHAPTER 9

  After two weeks of tedious drills, and even more tedious classes on military history and procedure, Bree was finally about to try something new and exciting. In the middle of the southwest field she waited with the rest of her class to begin elemental training. Their instructor, Seraph Randy Kime, appeared to be the polar opposite of Instructor Dohn. Instead of loud and abrasive, he was happy and soft-spoken. He had a narrow face, with pronounced cheekbones, sandy blond hair cut into a bowl, and a small mouth that always seemed to be curled in a smile. Immediately noticeable, despite Bree trying hard to pretend otherwise, was how Kime’s left hand was missing from the wrist down.

  Beside Instructor Kime was a large crate, which he had yet to open. Once he reintroduced himself, he tapped the top of the crate with the nub of skin and bone at the end of his left arm.

  “The first thing I want you all to remember is to have fun,” he said. “I mean it, I really do. The elements inside here are… well, they’re magical. You’re going to wield fire, or ice, or earth, or lightning from the palm of your hand. If that doesn’t get you excited…” He made an exaggerated sigh while shaking his head. “Then I don’t think you’re living.”

  Bree found herself smiling. His happiness was infectious. When he lifted one of the ice elemental shards, his joy appeared absolutely genuine.

  “This is a thing of wonder,” he said. “You’re here to make it bend to your will, and before today’s practice ends, I promise you, you’ll see a bit of magic. Yes, magic! So if you would, put on your gauntlets, and then open the element container on the right.”

  Bree did so, her eagerness growing. The right gauntlet had a similar setup as the left, with a thick base she could open to insert one of the elemental shards. Bree pushed down and in, springing open the lid, then waited to receive her fire element.

  “When I call your name, please come and accept your element,” Instructor Kime said. “Once you’ve reached basic proficiency, I’ll inform Sara to let you receive your element with the rest of your gear. Now, if you would… Daniel Cloud, up here, please.”

  Bree tapped her foot as she listened to the names. Daniel Cloud, Brandon Forge, Ryan Keegan… they were going alphabetically, which meant she’d have to wait. More names. Wess Holson. Brad Macon. Saul Reigar. Many she’d met during class, but she’d befriended only Brad and her roommate, Amanda. The others had broken into little cliques since the very first day, and Bree was content to leave things be. Hopefully friendships and camaraderie would come in time. For now, she wanted to remain focused on improving her skills in flight.

  “Amanda Ruth?”

  Amanda stepped up to Instructor Kime, accepted the offered lightning element, and then patiently watched as he showed her how to place it into the gauntlet and then secure it. Despite her previous worries, Bree’s roommate had taken quite well to flying, and Bree had a feeling she’d be just as good when it came to the elemental parts of their training. Beneath her shy demeanor hid a fiercely intelligent mind. Hopefully confidence would soon follow her successes.

  “Breanna Skyborn.”

  Bree hurried to the front. Instructor Kime reached into the crate with his only hand and pulled out a red prism shard. When he offered it, she took it and lifted her right gauntlet so he could observe.

  “Slide the shard in right there,” he said, watching her carefully as she did just that. When it was inside, she pushed down the lid until she heard a satisfying click. A tiny glass window revealed the prism, which started to pulse a soft red.

  “Good, just like that,” he said. “Now if you’re not in combat, you turn this knob here…”

  Just below her wrist was a tiny silver knob, and when he twisted it, the red of the shard ceased pulsing.

  “Left for off, right for on,” he said. “Keep it off for now, all right?”

  She nodded, earning herself a smile.

  “Good. Go wait, please, until we’re all ready.”

  Bree returned to her spot, and she stared at the prism through the cloudy thick glass. Deep inside that prism was a wellspring of fire, and soon she would be its master. She remembered her affinity testing, and the shocked look on Dioso’s face. Already she’d established herself as the best flyer in her class. If she could do the same with her element…

  “Clara Willer.”

  The last name pulled her from her thoughts, and she watched as the pretty blonde thing hurried to their instructor’s side. It’d not taken long for whispers to spread throughout the class about Clara’s family. Clara was the youngest daughter of Isaac and Avila Willer, the royal family of Weshern that had ruled the island as Archon for more than ninety years. Despite having two older brothers who would rule ahead of her, Clara was still of royal blood. Bree had been there when Kael discovered this fact, and it’d looked like someone had jammed a knife through his chest.

  Finally everyone was ready, and Instructor Kime began ordering them into a single long line.

  “You’re all new, and while you’re having fun, remember these elements are also dangerous,” he said. “Never point your right gauntlet at another person, no matter how well you think you have it under control.”

  Bree stayed with her brother, with Amanda to her left, who tapped her fingers together and grinned when their eyes met.

  I’m excited, Amanda mouthed, and Bree smiled.

  Good, she mouthed back.

  Instructor Kime stood in the center of their line. He also wore a harness and wings, though no left gauntlet, just one on his right. He lifted it up and pointed it toward them with the palm spread open.

  “Just below the palm, even with wrist and elbow, you’ll see the focal point of your gauntlet,” Kime said. Bree glanced to her own, inspecting it as she listened to her instructor talk. The focal point was a clear white crystal. Eight thin silver triangles, like petals to a flower, folded over it when she closed her fist, keeping it protected.

  “There are tiny little wires hidden within your gauntlet that connect to the protective casing around the focal point,” Instructor Kime continued. “When you close your fingers and start to curl your hand, you’ll narrow the opening. Open your hand, and spread your
fingers, and you’ll pull the focal point open wider and wider.”

  Bree had noticed this during her flight practices, though she hadn’t known the reason for it, only assuming it had something to do with using her element in combat. Instructor Kime opened and closed his hand, making sure all of them saw before he continued.

  “The narrower the opening, the thinner and more focused your element will be when you use it. Now, each element reacts differently to these changes, and some elements will use a wide spread far more than narrow. Earth, for example, often uses a wider spread, whereas lightning needs to be kept thin and focused lest you lose control.” He clapped his stump into the palm of his other hand. “Now for the important part. The exciting, magical part I promised you. As you’ve likely noticed, there’s no trigger, and it’s not because it’s hidden. You are the trigger. This is the reason a Seraph must have some measure of elemental affinity. Now let me get out of your way…”

  Bree flexed her gauntlet as Instructor Kime hurried between them to stand on the opposite side of the line. Before them stretched a massive field of grass, with nearly half a mile between them and the stone wall surrounding the academy.

  “Turn the knob on your gauntlets to set your element back to active.”

  All of them did so. Bree’s fire element pulsed like a heartbeat beneath the glass window. Kime paced behind them as he continued talking.

  “Now place your right hand out, palm facing the field. Keep your fingers relaxed, and don’t worry too much about how wide or narrow the shot is. So long as you don’t end up burning your own fingers or cutting them off with a shard of ice, you’ll be fine. Now focus on the element. Sense it. The mechanisms within the gauntlet will help, making it feel clearer, stronger…”

  Bree held her arm out before her, frowning as she listened. Sense the element? But she sensed nothing. Just like when performing her tests with Dioso, she felt not the slightest presence of the glowing prism mere inches from her skin. Thankfully it seemed no one else was doing any better, with everyone standing about with an arm outstretched.