The Order of the Elements 01 - Breaking Point

by Jess Bowen

  “How many times have you practiced that hold?” Hector asked.

  His question threw her off, and it took her a moment to get back on track. “Four or five times maybe?”

  He nodded and arched his eyebrows. “Impressive. They weren’t lying.”

  He looked over her shoulder to watch the others stretching and joking with one another. Phoebe paused to take in his appearance to see if it had changed at all since the day before. His midnight-dark hair shined like satin. His muscles still bulged and rippled, and his dark brown eyes were flecked with green. He didn’t look any older, or younger, and his tanned skin was graced with scars up and down his arms. One scar started just at the base of his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt.

  Phoebe’s hand twitched, and her fingers tingled as she felt the urge to reach out and touch his skin. It looked soft and supple, but surely the characteristic of impenetrability would indicate something solid and unyielding. She had shaken his hand the day before, but she had been so distracted she hadn’t noticed how it felt. She kept her hand at her side and decided to apologize instead. She squeezed Dorian’s hand lightly. He understood her silent message and walked over to join the rest of their friends as they stretched. Hector turned back to her questioningly as Dorian walked away, leaving them alone.

  His eyes were kind, but confused.

  “I wanted to apologize, for yesterday. That had nothing to do with you,” Phoebe said.

  The corners of his dark eyes crinkled as he smiled. “That’s okay. I understand. Everyone was quick to explain.” He motioned to the others.

  Phoebe felt her heart swell as she looked over her shoulder at the others. “They’re good friends,” she replied as she turned back to him.

  Hector nodded. “The best, from what I’ve seen.” His brow knitted. “Although, I’m sure the friends you left behind were just as good.”

  In just a few words, Hector had cut through to a bleeding wound that she had managed to suppress for so many weeks: her friends, her family, school, her simple life, everything that had been left behind—a past she might never return to. She couldn’t even picture Kate or Carmen here, or even her parents for that matter. To put these heavy burdens on them would erase their carefree, happy smiles. To take that away from them would be nothing less than criminal. But she also couldn’t see herself in that world anymore. In that sense, the past slipped even further away. It was something she could never return to because it was something she could never be again. Carefree was no longer part of her vocabulary.

  Once again, her already fragile emotional state suffered another blow. Not anger this time, but sadness. Heavy, oppressive sadness. Cold drops of water stung at her skin as rain fell down around her. What she wouldn’t give to see her mother and father just one more time. Hector looked up in concern as the rain extended to the rest of the room. There was no storm this time. No angry cracking of thunder and lightning to accompany the steady drops.

  28. Impenetrable

  Dorian rushed to Phoebe’s side. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Was she crying? She couldn’t tell. Dorian turned to Hector when she failed to answer. “What happened?”

  Hector shrugged while the rain drops that were apparently Phoebe’s tears fell all around them. “I don’t know what happened. I just said something about your friends and her friends from the Realm of Non-Magic. She got quiet, and it started raining.”

  There was nowhere left to go. There was no place left inside of Phoebe that didn’t hurt. Dorian closed his eyes as he considered what to do. Phoebe broke away from him and started walking. He grabbed for her arm, but Hector held him back.

  “Let her go, she’s not angry. Maybe she just needs to be alone.”

  She couldn’t see him, but she was almost positive that Dorian was giving Hector a death glare. Despite Hector’s words, another person stepped forward to follow her, someone that neither Dorian nor Hector tried to stop. She didn’t turn. She walked through the Annexus, her feet treading their familiar path to the gardens as numbness filled her. She didn’t want to feel anything anymore. She found herself sitting on the fountain bench when she finally noticed the person who had followed her.

  “I miss them too,” Ethan said quietly.

  “It’s not just them I miss.”

  It was easier to talk to Ethan about this. Phoebe knew that every one of her friends had lost someone to this war, but this was different. The people she missed were still alive; she just couldn’t see them ever again.

  Ethan laughed softly. “No, me either. I kind of miss getting up in the morning and my biggest worry being homework or if it was going to rain or what time I had to be to work. It seems kind of shallow now, but as they say, ignorance is bliss.”

  Those words had never been more true to Phoebe than right at that moment. Phoebe would have given anything to go back to that life. Well, almost anything. She wasn’t sure if she could give up Dorian. No, she knew she couldn’t give up Dorian.

  “I guess it’s easier when the good outweighs the bad,” she replied.

  Ethan frowned. “You have good here too. You have Dorian, if nothing else. I know he makes you happy.”

  “We have our friends too, and you have Lucy. But my point is, is there enough good to make the bad bearable?”

  Ethan thought over her convoluted question. “If you were given the choice, could you walk away?”

  Even if she didn’t count Dorian, she knew she could never do it. She couldn’t just go back to what was, not knowing what was happening in this place. Even without hope—because she couldn’t find it in any small part of her body—she could never turn her back on this place and these people. “No, I couldn’t.”

  Ethan nodded; he had known her answer even before he asked the question. “Then you have to find a balance.”

  Phoebe nodded. She needed to think it over. “You should probably get back to training. Tell everyone I’ll be back in a while.”

  Ethan nodded and left, knowing that she needed to be alone. He would know to add onto her message that nobody needed to come look for her. Dorian had kept her together for so long; he needed a break. She needed to find a way to hold herself together. She turned her attention to the fine drizzle of rain and made it disappear. She could hear soft footsteps coming up the garden path and scowled. Some messenger Ethan had been. She turned to tell the approaching person that she was fine when she saw silver-streaked hair framing a wizened face and sparkling blue eyes surveying her. Her mouth snapped shut.

  Cassius smiled. “I’ve been wondering how you were doing. It seems I have been neglectful of you.”

  “No, you haven’t. You’ve been a wonderful teacher.”

  Cassius shook his head. “I don’t mean of your powers. If anything, I have been too focused on your training. I meant I have been neglectful of your state of mind.”

  Phoebe sighed. Maybe she should have curled up in a dark room somewhere. It seemed her constantly foul mood was depressing everyone.

  “Don’t be ashamed. You carry a heavy weight. No one would begrudge you anger or sadness for that. You see the innermost thoughts of nearly everyone. I know that I would be more than disturbed to see the true thoughts of the minds around me. You left so much behind to fulfill a destiny you never chose. You fight for the one you love against those you shouldn’t have to fight. You feel so much. You feel very strongly. But that’s not wrong. Not to feel would destroy your very soul.”

  “It’s easier not to feel anything.”

  “It’s easier to do a lot of things. But you have never taken the easy road; why start now?”

  Cassius walked away as he finished what he had come down to say. Phoebe stood up and followed down the path after his footsteps had faded. He was right. Again. It was always easier to turn around. It was always easier to quit. But her parents had taught her better than that. Even if she could never see their faces again, she would make them proud. She would do what she came there to do.

  She let
herself back into the smaller training arena and appreciated the din as three pairs sparred on the mat. Hector sat on the tier as he watched. Phoebe sighed. She had to start somewhere. She sat down about a foot away from him. He didn’t even turn to look at her. She briefly wondered if Hector was going to be scared to talk to her if this kept happening.

  “I’m sorry. Again. It wasn’t your fault this time either,” she said to him as she watched Cynthia and Jared spar. They had finally started fighting each other with the same intensity they had after Dorian forced Evan on them for a few hours apiece.

  “I know. It’s hard. I get it. You didn’t hurt my feelings or anything,” he replied.

  “Oh, well, that’s good, then.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  If she only could tell what he was really thinking. Did he really mean what he said? Or was he just saying it to make me feel better? Phoebe glanced back at him. He was still watching the matches intently. She surveyed the skin on his arms. She felt her hand tingle again with the urge to see how solid his skin actually was. He wasn’t that far away. If she just stretched and pretended to accidentally hit his arm, he would never really notice.

  She turned her attention back to the matches. She put her hands on her knees and pushed her shoulders back then twisted to each side to stretch out her back. There were still aches left over from the hold she had been put in earlier. She barely noticed the dull ache because she was still watching Hector in her peripheral vision. He hadn’t moved. She stretched out her arms; her hand was only inches from his arm. He twitched and caught her wrist so quickly that she didn’t even have time to react. Her shoulders slumped and her cheeks flushed as she realized she had been caught.

  “I, umm…sorry about that. I was just…” Stuttering incoherently was what she was doing.

  Hector turned to look at her, but he didn’t look at all irritated. In fact, he smirked, and his eyebrow raised as his eyes sparkled in amusement.

  “You were just trying to see if my skin feels as indestructible as it sounds?” he supplied. His deep, husky voice was on the edge of laughter.

  Phoebe discovered that the floor was much more interesting than she had ever noticed before. “Well, umm, yeah,” she mumbled. Her whole body shook with his laughter through the grip he had on her wrist. She looked up and couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry.”

  His laughter soon subsided, but his amused expression stayed in place. “Why do you apologize so much? It’s fine! Happens all the time. You could have just asked.”

  “Oh, okay.” Phoebe wasn’t sure what else to say. His iron grip was starting to cut off the circulation to her hand.

  His eyebrow rose again. “So, do you want to know or not?”

  Her face flushed. “Well, if you’re offering…”

  He grinned. “All you have to do is ask.”

  “Okay, then, may I?”

  “Certainly.” He released her wrist, and her fingers prickled as blood flowed back into them. “Wait just a second, though,” he added.

  Phoebe gazed at him questioningly, and he smiled and pointed to his scarred arms. She watched as the skin smoothed out and the dark pink color was replaced by the dark tan of his normal skin. Dorian had told her the scars weren’t real, but it was weird to watch them disappear right before her eyes. His skin looked even more smooth and soft. It definitely didn’t look indestructible. She looked back up to see that many lines on his face had been softened and several years had been erased from his age as a result. If it weren’t for the bulging muscles, he wouldn’t look intimidating at all anymore. He held out his arm when he had finished, and she examined it for a minute.

  There was not a single flaw on his perfect skin. There wasn’t even the tiniest spot of discoloration. She reached out cautiously and touched the smooth skin. It was soft and warm. From what she’d learned that morning, she could tell his Element was Earth. His temperature was nowhere near hot enough for Fire. His skin gave way under her finger but not for long. The harder she pressed, the more solid it became until it was as stiff and unmovable as steel. She lifted her finger from his arm and then pressed back down lightly to find that it was soft again. She experimented further as she wrapped her fingers—as far as they would go—around his arm and squeezed. His skin became hard again and didn’t budge.

  Phoebe glanced up to see that he was smiling as he watched her. “Wow,” she said as she smiled.

  “That’s what everyone says.”

  “So, can you feel anything?” she asked.

  Hector reached to his belt with his free arm and pulled out a knife. She released his arm when she realized what he was planning to do. He twisted his arm back around and rested the knife on the delicate looking flesh on the inside of his elbow. Phoebe glanced back up in horror, and he smiled, gripping the knife tightly. Her eyes flashed back down to his arm as he pushed the knife down and drug it across his flesh. Not even the smallest mark or indent appeared. His skin didn’t even lighten where the pressure was applied. He stowed the knife back in his belt.

  “I can feel pressure but not pain,” he explained.

  “Could you feel my hand? Even when I wasn’t pressing down?”

  He shook his head. “No, I can only feel when my skin hardens. But I don’t feel pain because it’s not necessary. I can’t be hurt.”

  “How do you block out powers?”

  He shrugged. “How do you make it storm? How do you make ice?”

  “In other words, you don’t know,” Phoebe interpreted. He nodded. “What about everything else? You don’t feel pain, but what about the rest—the good feelings?”

  He chuckled. “Inquisitive, aren’t you?”

  She shrugged absentmindedly. “You could call it my Achilles heel. Normally there are other ways to satisfy my curiosity, but…” She trailed off. She wasn’t sure if he was supposed to know about her talent.

  “But you can’t read me,” he finished. “Yes, I know about that too,” he said when her eyes widened in surprise. “So, I guess I should get used to the inquisition, in other words?”

  Phoebe smiled apologetically. “Unless you can turn your talent off, I would say that is an accurate assumption. That is, if you plan on sticking around with the misfits.” She motioned to herself and the others.

  He flashed a huge smile. “Never have been one for the in crowd. And Dorian tells me you’ll be doing some surveillance for us, so as long as everyone wants me around, I’ll stay.”

  Phoebe found it very easy to talk to Hector. “Okay, so back to my original question, and no dodging this time.”

  He sighed, and the look from the day before came back—the look from when he had been giving his report. “I guess there is a downside to every talent, right? Good or bad doesn’t matter; I just feel pressure, nothing more and nothing less.”

  She frowned. “You can’t turn it off?”

  He shrugged again. “Cassius says I should be able to, but I can’t figure out how. I wish I could. It’s good for combat and things like that, but…”

  “But it’s not so good when it comes to other things,” Phoebe finished, and he nodded. “Has there ever been a time when your skin wasn’t like that?”

  He nodded. “When I was younger. My talent kicked in when I was about thirteen. I can remember everything: hugs, handshakes, comfort. Maybe that makes it worse. If I never would have known, then it wouldn’t make a difference now.”

  A whistle blew, and the three matches came to an end. “Does it change your emotions, do you think?”

  “I don’t know. When you can’t feel pain, it’s harder to feel sadness. Sadness isn’t just an emotion that exists in your body somewhere; it has physical expressions as well. Someone told me it’s like having a hole punched in your chest. I feel echoes of emotions, but it’s not quite the same. Happiness is the easiest because it’s more a state of mind than anything else.”

  “You can’t feel any of that?”

  “It really is impossible for me to feel pain, in any form.
”

  “I can’t imagine what that must be like,” Phoebe said as she shook her head in disbelief.

  He laughed. “My emotions are dulled, and yours are extremely strong. If we could only find a way to balance it out, right?”

  She nodded fervently as the rest of her friends came to stand with them.

  “Phoebe,” Dorian breathed in relief as he took her arm.

  She leaped to her feet and buried herself into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. She felt comfortable in his arms, and she didn’t want to move. She left her mind and went to his. He had been worried about her.

  Are you listening?

  She nodded into his chest.

  I’m so sorry. Are you feeling better?

  She nodded again.

  Do you want to talk later?

  She considered for a minute and then nodded.

  I love you. I wish I could take away your pain.

  He didn’t need an answer from her. They both knew it was impossible, not that she would ever lay those burdens on him. He felt enough pain just watching her deal with them; she would never add to that.

  “So,” Hector said as he stood up. “Who am I going to be showing the ropes?”

  Dorian kissed the top of Phoebe’s head and dropped one arm around her waist as he turned to Hector. “Actually, Phoebe, if you don’t mind. She has an advantage over all of us. I would like to see how she does without it.”

  Despite how much Dorian liked to protect her, she could see from his thoughts that he was looking forward to seeing how she did without being able to read someone’s mind.

  Evan clapped his hands together excitedly. “Excellent.”

  Phoebe sighed but left Dorian’s side to make her way to the middle of the arena with Hector. She stretched out her back a little more. It was still sore. Instead of settling onto the tier, everyone chose to stand and watch the match. Phoebe rolled her eyes.

  “It looks like they’re ready to see you lose,” Hector observed.

  “You seem sure of yourself,” she replied.

  “Confidence is my middle name.”