“Do you sense it?” Instructor Kime asked. “Like it’s a part of you? Perhaps another muscle on your arm? A bit of fire burning so close, only cold instead of hot? With most everyone it is different, so try to focus on whatever seems strange and new. Focus on that. Close your eyes if you must. And then… brace your arm. Tighten your fingers. Flex your muscles. Like you were falling and about to hit ground…”
Bree was still listening, trying to imagine what exactly the instructor was asking of her, when a burst of ice shot from her brother’s gauntlet. It came out in a thin stream, its point razor sharp, no thicker than a finger, no longer than a foot. The accompanying sound was surprisingly loud, like a hiss of air, only deeper in pitch. Kael’s arm jerked backward as it fired, launching the ice shard with such velocity it soared several hundred feet before burying into the grass. Kael looked around as if embarrassed, but his grin was ear to ear.
“Good!” Kime said. “All of you, keep trying! It’s startling the first time you harness the elements, but that’s what practice is for. You’ll learn how to fire nice and steady. I promise, this will soon come as naturally as breathing.”
After seeing how much pushback the firing had on Kael, Bree braced her legs and pointed her right arm at the empty field. To her left, she heard Amanda whoop as a flash of lightning burst from the focal point of her gauntlet, tearing across the field without stopping until it struck the distant wall. An afterimage of its yellow and white spear floated before Bree’s eyes. When she turned, Amanda laughed.
“I like this better than flying,” she said, pushing her gauntlet forward. A second shot out, this one thinner and lasting longer. Its crackle was joined by spears of flame and thin brown chunks of earth flying into the field, tearing apart the grass and blasting up chunks of earth. Bree swallowed hard, trying to quell her rising doubts.
You can do this, she told herself as she outstretched her hand. Find the element. Focus on it. Imagine it releasing…
She tensed the muscles in her arm, braced her legs, and widened her fingers. She imagined the fire coming forth. Not just imagining it, but demanding it. For a split second she felt a sharp pain in her head, like a shard of glass breaking inside her skull, and then an intense pressure followed, pushing against her hand. Fire blasted out from her palm, but not a thin stream like Amanda’s or Kael’s, or even some of the wider sprays of the other students. The fire exploded outward in a torrential blast, enormous in its volume, its heat painful to her skin. The inferno rolled forth, scorching grass and leaving bare earth in its wake. A roar accompanied the release, like that of an angered dragon. Bree cried out in surprise, and then quickly as it came, the fire ceased, fading away into black smoke.
“Holy shit,” Kael said beside her, wide-eyed with awe. Though she could tell he was impressed, she felt only exhaustion and humiliation. She hadn’t meant for anything like that to happen, and as the fire had roared out of the gauntlet, she’d felt completely powerless to stop it. Sweat rolled down her neck, and her face felt stiff, like when she stayed out in the sun too long and would be burned red the day after. She caught Instructor Kime walking toward her from the corner of her eye, and thankfully he seemed amused by what she’d done.
“Don’t fret,” he said as he joined her side. His right hand took her gauntlet and lifted it up so he could examine the elemental prism through the glass window. Instead of pulsing red, it was now black with streaks of gray running throughout. “That’s what I thought. You burned through your entire element in one single burst, Breanna.”
“I didn’t mean to,” she said.
“Of course not,” he said, smiling. “You only need to learn control. Control is an important, and often overlooked, part of being a Seraph. One of Center’s rules of war limits all Seraphim to a single prism during a battle. Through focus and concentration, skilled Seraphim can use their element twice as much as others. In lengthy conflicts, this often spells the difference between victory and defeat.”
Bree nodded as he talked, though she was barely listening. Her mind was replaying the event, thinking on what it’d been like when she unleashed the element. She couldn’t think of any actual decision on her part, any moment where she could exert more control. It felt like trying to use a sleeping limb to tie a knot. Somewhere inside her was a disconnect, and she couldn’t figure out why.
“Come with me,” Kime said, walking back to his crate. Bree followed. From within the crate he pulled out a second flame element, and he twirled it in his fingers.
“Always discard the old element in this crate, or at the gear sheds if you’re practicing alone,” he said. “We send it back to Center at their request, one of the many conditions we must meet if we are to continue receiving more shipments.”
Bree popped back open the secure compartment and pulled out the dark prism. Now that it was in her hand she could feel minute cracks running across its formerly smooth surface. She exchanged the prisms with her instructor, sliding her new vibrant red one into the gauntlet and shutting the compartment. When she returned to the line with the rest of the students, Instructor Kime followed.
“This time, I want you to relax,” he said. “Don’t tense your arm quite so much. Think of a river. You want a slow, steady stream, not a waterfall. Visualize it if it helps.”
Bree nodded, mentally telling herself to calm down. She could do this. Hadn’t Dioso been overwhelmed by the strength of her affinity? He’d never seen someone so blessed. Extending her arm, she took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. Kime carefully touched her wrist with his hand, repositioning her elbow as he stood beside her.
“Nice and steady,” he told her. “The fire is under your control. You’re its master, so make it follow your demands. Imagine a thin spear of flame, then demand it.”
All across the line of students, blasts of fire, ice, earth, and lightning shot into the field, some soaring into the air, some crashing into the grass. Nineteen of them there, eighteen capable of mastering their element at a basic level. She would not be the only one unable to handle it. She wouldn’t let it happen. Imagining a steady stream of flame, she tensed the muscles of her forearms, pulled back her fingers. Again she felt a mental click, felt heat gather at her palm. Flame sparked, then unleashed, and Bree smiled.
That smile died the moment the fire burst free, an enormous, rolling cloud of black and red. There was no controlling it, no mastering it, no demanding it to her will. The flame roared outward, the heat incredible, the heavy rumbling sound chilling. And within two seconds it promptly ceased, and Bree dropped to her knees, completely out of breath. Again she felt her classmates staring, except this time their stares weren’t so impressed, their whispers not ones of awe. No, she heard something far, far worse.
Subdued laughter.
“I see we have some work to do,” Instructor Kime said. For some reason, the cheer in his voice only made her humiliation worse.
“I can do this,” Bree said. “Let me try again.”
“I’m sorry, Breanna, but each student is allotted only two prisms a day. We have to buy them from the theotechs, and they don’t come cheap.”
“Please,” Bree said. “I know I can control it, just give me one more chance.”
Instructor Kime shook his head again, his smile fading just a tiny bit.
“These aren’t my rules, but those of the academy,” he said. “If you’d like excess element allotted to you, you must discuss that with Headmaster Simmons.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Wait until tomorrow, and we’ll try again. Until then, you can watch the others practice. Wess seems to have figured out his fire element fairly well, perhaps you could pay attention to him?”
He was just trying to be nice, Bree knew that, but she couldn’t help but feel patronized. Biting her lower lip, she nodded.
“I might,” she said softly.
“Good,” Instructor Kime said, patting her shoulder once before removing his hand. “Don’t let this get you down, Breanna. Sometimes first steps result in
stumbles. I’m sure you’ll figure this out in time.”
Bree wished she could share his optimism. She badly wanted to stay, but her humiliation was stronger, and she couldn’t shake her desire to flee. Crossing her arms, she walked back to the path that separated the northern and southern halves of the training fields, then turned around. Instructor Kime flitted about, going from student to student, repositioning their arms, offering advice as they continued to unleash more and more impressive blasts of their element. Kael seemed to be doing well, at one point firing three successive blasts so close together they looked like a single barrage of razor-sharp icicles. Those on either side of him started leaning closer, asking him questions, and he answered back with a huge grin on his face. All of them appeared to be having fun, plenty showing off to the others. Bonding. Laughing.
Feeling ready to cry, Bree turned away and hurried east toward the gear sheds. The idea of turning in early made her sick, and she veered south, thinking perhaps a run through the obstacle course would improve her mood. Except unlike most mornings, this time the field wasn’t empty. Bree frowned as she neared the advanced flight field. A group of seven gathered between the road and the obstacle course, where the grass wasn’t quite so high. Instead of flying or practicing their element, they had their swords drawn. A couple shifted from stance to stance, performing drills, she guessed, while the rest dueled one another.
Bree veered back onto the path, her pace slowing. From the road she watched them practice, listening to the steady clang of steel hitting steel. Something about the sight of their shifting and parrying calmed her, and though her chest felt hollow, at least she was no longer on the verge of tears. Dean was among them, and she watched as he fought another, much bigger student. Though he wasn’t stronger, Dean was faster, and he shifted side to side, using one blade to parry incoming attacks and the other to thrust and stab for openings. Bree could hardly believe it, but they seemed to be sparring with only their wings and harness, and no other armor beyond that.
After their sparring ended, Dean’s opponent said something, then tilted his head Bree’s way. Dean turned, saw her, and it seemed his eyes lit up for a brief moment. He said something back, then sheathed his swords and came her way. Bree crossed her arms and looked away, suddenly feeling guilty, as if caught doing something wrong.
“Come to fly the obstacle course again?” he asked her, using his sleeve to wipe at a line of sweat built up across his forehead just beneath his dark hair.
“I…”
What had she come for? She’d thought about taking a few runs on the course, but with so many older students nearby, she felt too intimidated. Flailing for an answer, she finally shrugged.
“I just wanted to watch,” she said sheepishly.
“I see.” He glanced west. “Shouldn’t you be at elemental practice, or are you too good for that as well?”
Bree’s eyes flicked to the dirt road.
“I’m no good at it,” she said.
Dean cocked his head.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, it’s true.” She gestured to the others as they practiced. “When do we learn how to use swords?”
“Not until your second year. Our blades are considered a last resort, to be used only after a Seraph has drained all of his element. It’s better to learn how to fly and use your element before trying something you may never use.”
Only once an element is drained? thought Bree. Well, that won’t take long.
“Feel free to watch, and don’t be a stranger,” Dean said. “We’ve organized this practice ourselves, a nice warm-up before we start flying around in those tedious formations.”
Dean smiled, dipped his head, and then turned to rejoin the others. Bree felt panic shoot through her, and before she could stop herself, she called out to him.
“Can I practice with you?”
The older student stopped, and when he turned about, his left eyebrow lifted in curiosity.
“You want to sword fight with us?” he asked. “We’re all third and fourth year. We don’t use practice blades anymore. You’re likely to get hurt.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
“No, you won’t,” he said. “Not unless someone actually teaches you.”
Whatever hope she’d felt promptly died. Swallowing down a rock the size of her throat, she nodded.
“I understand,” she said.
Dean shook his head, smile growing.
“Good. So I hope you understand how privileged you are to be trained by the soon-to-be legendary Seraph Dean Averson. Now come on, let’s join the gang.”
As he headed into the grass, Bree’s feet felt made of lead.
“Well?” Dean asked when he noticed she wasn’t following.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, hurrying after.
She hung back half a step, and she tried not to stammer or blush as Dean introduced her to the rest.
“Hey, all, this is Breanna Skyborn,” he said. “She’s wanting to get a head start on mastering swordplay, so she’ll be joining us for… well, until she gets sick of us, I’d wager.”
“The more the merrier,” said Dean’s previous opponent. “Most consider this a waste of time.”
“A lost art, even,” chipped in a second.
“Skyborn?” asked a thin woman with dark red hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. “My parents flew alongside your father. They never had anything but kind words to say about him.”
“Thanks,” Bree said, feeling embarrassed by the attention.
“This way,” Dean said, stepping aside. “Where you’ll be safe from everyone else’s incompetence.”
“Yours is the one she needs to be afraid of,” the red-haired woman called, and the others laughed.
“Ignore Sasha,” Dean said. “She’s just jealous that in a few minutes you’ll already be better than she is.”
“Eat a dick, Dean.”
“You first, Sasha.”
The camaraderie, the casual banter… Bree felt herself growing jealous. Would her class ever be like this? Right now, she could barely even list everyone’s names.
Once safely away from the rest, Dean stopped before her, and he pulled his swords from their scabbards.
“Draw your blades,” he said.
Bree undid their latches, jammed the wrist locks onto the loop at the end of their hilts like Instructor Dohn had shown them, and then pulled the weapons free. Dean nodded, pleased she’d done so without problem.
“Keep your grip firm but not too tight,” he said. “Same goes for your whole body. Relaxed but ready to react, that’s your goal.”
“I’ll try.”
“Perfect,” he said. “You ready?” He gently tapped her right sword with his left. The clang echoed in her ears, the barely perceptible vibration of her blade traveling down her wrist, up her elbow, and to her chest. Something about it gave her a thrill, and she felt herself smile for the first time since she’d humiliated herself at the elemental practice field.
“I am,” she said.
“All right, then,” Dean said, repositioning so that he stood a few feet to her left. “Nice and slow. Mimic everything I do the best you can, got it?”
He held his swords out before him, and Bree placed her own in the same basic manner.
“We’re going to learn formations, as well as practice fluidly moving between these formations. We’ll start with just two, nice and simple.”
He pulled his right hand back while positioning his left sword before his chest so that it was parallel to the ground. Bree watched, then recreated the motion with her own arms. Dean checked, nodded in approval, and then moved to a new stance, this one with both weapons at the ready before him. Bree did the same, and she felt a strange recognition to it all. It was like flying, in a way. She was master of her body, of its positioning and movements. Total control. Perhaps fire would be beyond her, but if she could master this…
“Faster,” she said as he moved back to the init
ial stance. “I only have a few minutes to be better than Sasha, remember?”
Dean laughed.
“Aren’t you cocky,” he said. “So be it. Faster we’ll go.”
True to his word, he began shifting stances faster, watching to see if she correctly followed. She always did, the swords growing comfortable in her hands, her body fully her own, fully in control. All but her eyes, which lingered far too long on Dean’s handsome face, his shining smile. Only once did she think he noticed, but if it bothered him, he never showed it.
If anything, he smiled all the wider.
CHAPTER 10
It was their third week of elemental training, and to mark it, Instructor Kime separated them into groups.
“For now, you’ll work closely with those of the same element,” he said. “We’re also going to start more formalized drills, but don’t worry, they won’t be as tedious as your other drills, I promise. It might be just me, but I think they’re actually kind of fun.”
Kael tried to hide his excitement when he realized what the pairing would mean. Of the nineteen, three besides Kael had ice affinity. Daniel Cloud was one, short, thin, and with darting eyes as if he expected to be attacked at any moment. Kael had tried chatting with him a few times, never getting far. The second was Saul Reigar, a man who seemed perfectly suited to ice affinity. He came from a wealthy family, and while Kael had actively gone out of his way to befriend others in his class, Saul seemed to do the reverse, brushing aside any perceived friendliness and mentioning multiple times how he wasn’t there to make friends.
And then, of course, there was Clara…
“Looks like it’ll be the four of us,” Clara said, the last to join their little circle. Despite how short she’d cut her hair, she’d still pulled it back from her face and into a tight little knot.
“Looks like it,” Kael said, feeling lame even as he said it. But he wanted to say something, lest she think he was ignoring her.
“What do you think the new exercises will be?” she asked.
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