Skyborn

by David Dalglish

  “This manipulation is difficult,” Randy said, turning back to her. “General consensus at the academy has always been to ensure Seraphim learn the basics of elemental manipulation before moving on to this, but right now you’re floundering in the dark, Bree, so I’m willing to do all I can to shed a bit of light.”

  Bree tried to wrap her head around this new idea. Her imagination could shape it, control it, not just release it from her gauntlet? Part of her wanted to be excited, but part of her was afraid to get her hopes up after a solid month of failure.

  “This is fascinating, it truly is, but I don’t see how this helps.” Bree frowned and looked away. “When the fire pours out of me, I feel… helpless. Completely lacking in control.”

  Randy stepped closer, and he held her wrist and aimed it at the field.

  “You have a natural affinity to fire, Bree, one that your entry tests described as unprecedented. But all that is irrelevant if you do not work at it, learning how to use that potential. A hawk may have eyes better than my own, but it matters not if it never opens them. Should you ever make that connection and learn to harness the fire in your prism, you’ll be a truly wonderful sight. Now, let’s see if we can trick your mind. Imagine the fire releasing as a spear, and then when you see it happen, imagine it stopping. My hope is, through such persuasion, you will gain a feel for how to control the element instead of blindly activating it, then failing to halt it until the prism is completely spent.”

  Bree swallowed her frustration and worry. Out here, alone and with dark approaching, she felt so much more vulnerable than with her classmates surrounding her. If this failed, there’d be no shrugging it off, no acting like it was no big thing. Instructor Kime would see through it in a heartbeat.

  That and, more than anything, she wished him to be right.

  “Imagine,” she whispered as she breathed in and out. Instructor Kime stepped away to give her space. Focusing her concentration on the prism connected to the gauntlet, she imagined a spear of flame bursting from the palm of her gauntlet. While she hadn’t made much progress, the one thing Bree had gotten better at was activating the fire ability on demand. The moment she imagined the spear, she made the mental connection, willing the fire to release. Like all previous attempts before, she felt a crack in her mind, but for once, something was different.

  Fire gathered at her gauntlet, then burst outward. Exactly as she’d imagined it, it came forth as a spear, except unlike in her imagination, it lacked a defined end. The spear arced across the field in a narrow beam, crossing several hundred yards before striking dirt. Bree tightened the muscles of her hand and arm, her teeth clenched tight. For once, she felt a connection, however vague. Her fire… she could detect it, just like Instructor Kime insisted. She sensed it in the space before her, sensed the release of power draining from her prism.

  The problem was, she still had no control. Less than a second after release, she felt the fire growing from a narrow beam to a tremendous, wide explosion. Concentrating as hard as possible, Bree tried to keep it together, to force it back to a beam, but it was like scattering rocks into the air and then demanding they remain still. There was nothing for her to focus on, nothing to keep the fire restrained. The fire burst wider, harder, and she screamed as she felt her energy draining with it. It was as if she couldn’t control her own arm, and she had to brace her legs to withstand the force of the release.

  The fire ceased, the prism drained in less than five seconds.

  “Damn it!” Bree screamed, dropping to her knees and slamming the gauntlet into the dying grass. She gasped in air, feeling completely out of breath. Why was it so hard? Why must she be so incompetent at what everyone else grasped on their first day? And to feel like there’d been a chance of improving, only to have it yanked away, made it that much worse. She caught Instructor Kime looking down at her, and she started to apologize, then stopped. She’d expected pity in his eyes. Instead she saw hope.

  “That was wonderful,” he said. “Truly wonderful.”

  If there’d ever been a time Bree had felt more baffled, she couldn’t remember it.

  “How?” she asked. “I lost control like I always do.”

  Randy knelt beside her, and his smile was nearly ear to ear.

  “But I also saw the spear,” he said. “For four weeks you’ve made no progress, but today I saw your first true step forward. No matter how tiny, a first step is still a first step. This means you’ll make another, and then another. I don’t care how much time it takes, Breanna, but I assure you, one day we will have you walking.”

  Bree felt her insides being torn. Part of her wanted to believe him so badly, to think she might one day zip through the skies with bursts of flame roaring from her palm. Another part of her, a part fed by a month of failure, refused to believe such a thing might ever happen. Today was a fluke, and nothing more. Most frightening of all was her belief that another attempt would reveal the truth: that she’d learned nothing, gained nothing, and never would.

  “Are you up for another try?” Randy asked, and he offered her a hand. She took it and stood, unable to meet his eye.

  “Not for a bit,” she said. “Doing… that always leaves me tired.”

  The instructor nodded, seeming to understand.

  “I’ve talked with Headmaster Simmons,” he said. “He’s agreed to increase your daily allocation from two prisms to four, if you’re willing to put in the extra time. I’d still like you to attend my training sessions, listen to my lessons, and give your best effort. Come before training, or after, like tonight, and see if you can master your element. Will you do that, Bree?”

  Every training session with fire element left her drained, and she thought of doing more immediately following her morning jog with Brad and Kael. The prospect was exhaustion, as was coming in late, when her body was sore from spending hours in the skies twisting and turning to complete Instructor Dohn’s drills. To do it twice, along with Randy’s own practices…

  “Baby steps,” Bree whispered, then stood up straight and thudded her fist against her chest in salute to her instructor. “If this is what it takes, then yes, I will.”

  Randy smiled at her, and then tapped the stump of his hand against his palm again.

  “Don’t let this get you down,” he said. “You’ll make us all proud one day, Bree, I promise.”

  Bree opened the cover on her right gauntlet, removing the blackened, expended prism. She handed it to Instructor Kime, then glanced at the charred crater where her spear of fire had slammed the ground.

  “I pray you’re right,” she said softly, swearing one day to leave the training field with her elemental prism intact, instead of dark, clouded, and broken.

  CHAPTER 12

  Bree took her seat beside Brad at the lunch table, having grabbed only an apple from the front. She felt too exhausted for anything else. Brad, who had a massive plate of potatoes slathered with butter and steamed vegetables, gave her a frown.

  “That’s all?” he asked.

  “That’s all,” Bree said, biting into her apple. “I’ll be heading back to the practice course after eating. The last thing I want to do is vomit a bunch of potatoes while flying.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” he said.

  “How so?”

  “Have you ever thrown up apples before? They taste terrible coming back up. Potatoes are way better.”

  “The point was to prevent throwing up, Brad, not make it easier when I do.”

  The mess hall was full of students from all years, the lunch hour rush just starting to pick up. Because of it, they’d had to find a table all the way in the corner. Bree caught Kael wandering near the middle of the enormous room, searching for them, and she stood and waved once so he could join them. Kael sat opposite her, and he, too, had a plate filled with potatoes and mixed greens.

  “See, this guy knows how to eat,” Brad said, pointing.

  “I don’t think anyone here can challenge you in knowledge of eating,�
�� Kael said.

  “Hey, now,” Brad said, leaning back so he could smack his stomach. “The pounds are dropping like mad from this here belly. Even Instructor Dohn’s noticed, though I swear it just pisses him off even more.”

  “Yeah, because he knows he’ll be stuck with you,” Kael said, and he flung a tiny piece of broccoli across the table, aiming for the stomach Brad had so proudly patted. His cheer was the polar opposite of Bree’s sour mood. For nearly two weeks she’d snuck off to the training fields both morning and night to make yet another attempt at mastering her fire. So far, no matter how basic or exotic the shape, each try went the same. The fire would erupt, it’d vaguely resemble her desired effect, and then it would continue outward, wild, untamed, uncontrolled, a reckless explosion that lasted until her prism was completely drained. The toll was wearing on her, and it seemed she suffered a headache at all times.

  “I take it training went well?” she asked Kael, deciding that needling her brother might improve her mood.

  “Went great,” he said, shoving a forkful of potato into his mouth as if that might spare him from clarifying further. Not that Bree needed him to elaborate. Nearly every single day over the last few weeks he’d been paired with Clara at practice, and even a blind dog could have seen how badly he was starting to crush on her.

  “The practice, or the flirting?” she asked, earning the desired blush. She laughed, but before she could rib him further, she saw Kael glance over her shoulder, and his body immediately tensed. Bree frowned, confused, and then turned to see a group of three heading their way. Saul Reigar was one of them, but the other two she didn’t recognize. Both appeared to be much older students, one tall and dark-skinned, the other with the same dirty blond hair and square jaw as Saul.

  “These seats taken?” the one who looked like Saul asked. Bree glanced at Kael, who had put on an emotionless mask.

  “Nah, they’re free,” her brother said.

  Bree scooted over as Saul sat next to her, the other two setting down plates beside Kael.

  “I don’t think we’ve met,” the man continued. “I’m Saul’s brother, Jason. It’s good to meet you two. Believe it or not, I’ve heard plenty about you twins.”

  Jason offered his hand, and Kael shook it. When he shook with Bree, she noticed how firm it was, how forceful. Dominant. Her mood soured even more, and she couldn’t shake the awkward mood that had descended upon the entire table. Only Jason seemed jovial, his grin ear to ear.

  “Hopefully it’s been all positive,” Kael said, eyes focused on his plate, as if eating was suddenly the most important thing in the world to him.

  “Mostly,” Jason said, and the way he glanced at Bree, a gleam of mockery in his eye, made her stomach sick. This wasn’t good, not at all, but what did they want?

  “So you’re an ice thrower, just like my brother,” Jason continued. “Been having fun training? Saul told me you’re the lucky son of a bitch who always gets to practice with Clara Willer.”

  Bree’s sick stomach suddenly felt a whole lot tighter. Clara… this was about Clara? If so, then things were about to get far uglier.

  “Yeah,” Kael said, eyes still on his food. “It’s no big thing.”

  “No big thing?” said the man beside Jason. “She’s Isaac Willer’s daughter. Royalty, man, she’s like a princess. Might even be Archon one day. Aren’t you having fun throwing ice around her? Don’t be telling lies.”

  By now Brad had figured it out as well, and he tried inserting himself into the discussion in an attempt to defuse the growing tension.

  “Throwing ice doesn’t seem that much fun to me,” he said. “Hurling boulders the size of a man’s body? That’s where the fun is.”

  The other three laughed, the only acknowledgment they gave him.

  “So, tell me more about you,” Jason said. “Your family. Where you live. What you do.”

  “They’re farmers,” Saul said. “Just poor dirt farmers.”

  “Something wrong with being a farmer?” Kael asked, finally willing to confront the older student.

  “Not at all,” said Jason. He put an arm around Kael, gripping his shoulder. The act looked comforting, but Bree could see how tense it made her brother, how uncomfortable. “It just makes me wonder what a poor farmer might have in common with royalty.”

  “They’re both Seraphs,” Bree interjected. “Is that not enough?”

  Jason squeezed Kael tighter, completely dwarfing him.

  “Maybe, maybe,” he said, staring down at Kael as if daring him to meet his eye. “Still, my little brother here thinks it’s about time you give it a rest. A poor little dirt farmer shouldn’t be spending so much time with royalty, you know what I’m saying? So starting tomorrow, pair up with someone else instead, and let Saul be the one with Clara.”

  Bree glanced at Saul, and she was surprised by how uncomfortable he looked. Jason was clearly the one in charge. Question was, how far would he go?

  “If you have a problem with the pairings, Instructor Kime’s over there in the corner,” Kael said, carefully measuring every word. “If you have an issue with who Clara spends her time with, go tell her yourself… or are you worried she won’t be scared of your veiled threats?”

  Jason’s grin seemed to be all teeth, belying his lighthearted words.

  “Threats?” he said. “No threats here, none at all. It’s called advice. Nothing wrong with advice, right? And I’m thinking it’s a good idea for you to find other people to train with. Think of it as a lesson in learning your place. Don’t you think that’s a good idea, Alex?”

  “I do,” said the muscular man beside him. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “See, a great idea,” Jason continued. “We may all be Seraphim, but we still need to know our place. A piece of shit like you doesn’t belong next to an Archon’s daughter. Someone like my brother does. You got that, Kael?”

  Before Kael could answer, Bree stood from the table.

  “I should return to practice,” she said, though she had no such plans. Kael had mentioned where Instructor Kime sat, and she had every intention of going to him for help.

  “Taking a few more runs at elemental training?” Jason asked, but the mockery in his tone and the sickness in his grin, told her he already knew the answer.

  “She’s not much for elemental training,” Saul chipped in. “Flying’s more her thing.”

  “Oh, that’s right, I heard about her… issue.” Again that nauseating grin. “One-shot Bree. I think you’re in the running to be the worst elemental student this school’s ever seen.”

  Bree froze, every muscle in her body tightening. Jason’s grin faded and was replaced by something hard. Something eager.

  “What’s wrong, Bree?” he asked. “Can’t take a little good-natured ribbing?”

  Clenching her jaw hard enough to hurt, she shook her head. Walk away, she told herself. No reason to let them rile her further. As she left the table, heading toward Kime’s corner, she heard Jason start laughing.

  “With how fast you blow your load, be glad things aren’t worse,” he called after her. “You could have been born a man.”

  Her neck flushed red. From the corners of her eyes she saw people watching her, heard their laughter. Many didn’t even bother trying to hide it. Was that what they thought of her, even her own classmates? It felt like the entire mess hall was staring at her, and part of her wanted to shrivel into a ball and vanish. Humiliated, she turned instead toward the trash buckets set near the sinks. At the buckets, she paused, her half-eaten apple still in hand. A broom lay propped against the wall to her left. Trying not to think, she walked over to it and grabbed the handle. Twirling it once with her fingers, she started back toward her table, apple still in her other hand.

  Jason and Alex had risen to their feet, preparing to leave. Still smiling, still feigning friendliness. Both their backs were to her, and as she closed in, she flung her apple.

  “What the hell?” Jason said as the apple connec
ted with the side of his head. He turned, a hand clutching his ear, and that’s when Bree swung the broom handle, cracking him across the mouth. Blood splattered from his busted lip. Before he could react, she struck his right knee hard enough to drop him. Alex swore as he swung a meaty fist for her face. Bree ducked underneath, spun two steps to gain space between them, and then came out of the spin with the broom handle lashing outward. The bottom cracked Alex across the forehead, just above his left eye. Alex grabbed at the swelling bruise while stumbling into the table.

  Bree heard people calling her name, but she blocked it out. Saul was coming around the table, running as fast as he could given the little distance he had to gain speed. Taking her makeshift weapon in both hands, she thrust it outward, just like she would with her sword. The rounded top jammed into his stomach, and she saw the surprise in his eyes as he suddenly halted, the air blasted out of his lungs.

  A fist struck her across the face. Hands reached for her. Rolling with the blow, Bree came back up swinging at her attacker, catching Jason yet again in the face. By now Alex had regained his footing, and he rushed around the table while flinging his plate. Unable to dodge, Bree cried out as it struck her chest. Staggering, she avoided Jason’s first punch, felt the second hit her stomach. He moved to take the wooden handle from her, but she stopped that attempt by flinging the broom straight up and into his crotch.

  It seemed the selective silence that had enveloped her faded, and the noise of the rest of the mess hall came flooding in. Students were grabbing Bree’s arms, pulling her from the other three. Kael and Brad stood between her, Saul, and Alex, pushing them away when they tried to continue after her. As instructors came rushing in, shouting over the chaos, Bree felt herself being led away.

  “Still glad you were born a man?” Bree screamed at Jason, who knelt surrounded by students, one hand clutching his crotch. Blood dripped from his lip, one of his eyes was bloodshot, and already purple welts grew on his face.