Lucian is lost in his thoughts, too immense to realize that his scenery is slowly changing. Grey mist reemerges, melting away everything. His bed crumbles, wrapping him in a smell of decay. Cold air licks at his skin, causing him to shiver. By the time he regains his senses, he's lying on the cold, bare ground. The damp ground seeps into his skin, making him shiver. His body stiffens, knowing this familiar place. Grains of sand clump to his skin as he sits up. Dread washes over him – why is he here again? A while ago, there were voices around. "Sapphire?", "Nirro?", "Kealor?" he calls out in a voice nearing a whisper, but it's the same result – no answer. He's alone again.
As if on cue, waves of wailing roll in. Lucian springs to his feet, shuffling back. Eerie moans seem to be coming from all around him. He keeps turning around on the spot, hoping to see where they come from first. The wailing and moans draw closer, along with ghostly skeletal figures that begin appearing around him, looming closer.
"Stop! Don't come any closer!" he stutters, desperate to keep them away. But they don't listen, his voice is lost in the wailing. Their hands leave their sides, stretching forward. Their jaws slacken, wailing pierces his ears, causing blood to drop. Moaning follows, causing migraines. But he relents, swiping and kicking at them as they sink away from each other. All his attacks are useless as they pass through.
The skeletal figures plunge their arms into his body. Lucian gasps at first, then erupts into screaming as more come forward, reaching out to him. He feels his body tearing from the inside out. They're crawling into him. His body feels heavy as lead. The wailing echoes within. He's stuck, rooted to where he stands, while they continue to enter him. His body, growing increasingly cold, numb with each passing moment.
_______
"You can't be serious," Ryven hissed, his jaw clitches, fists shaking with rage. A blast of energy erupts, shaking everything in the room. Objects rattle. All present remain unbothered by his outburst. The man in charge sits before his table, holding his pen, writing on a paper. He pauses because the table shakes, and he doesn't want to stain his work. But the shaking goes on. He turns to Thane, who stands not far from him. "Calm yourself, Ryven," Thane says, low but carrying weight. Immediately, Ryven's power recedes, returning to a calm state. But he's still fuming within.
The man resumes his writing, which infuriates Ryven. "Why?" The question is all he can muster. "Questions aren't to be asked, Ryven. The clan leader willed it." the man answers calmly "But there are others capable of teaching them. Wasn't he sent away on purpose? Why bring him back?" Ryven says. "And Chet, why are you so calm? After what he did, you should be the one who highly disagrees here." He turns to Chet, who sits on the windowsill. "Ryven!" A female voice with black hair calls out, angry at what Ryven said.Thane's eyes narrowed.
Everyone present stares at Chet, gauging his reaction. But he remains quiet, his thoughts stretching far. With a barely audible sigh, Chet gets down and walks towards the door. No one bothers to stop him; some even step out of the way. As he passes, his clothes slightly brush against Ryven's. Ryven feels his back hair stand, but rests back as Chet passes him. The door opens and closes after him. Stiff silence fills the enclosed room but is interrupted by the healer, who rests on the wall. "You just had to bring up the buried past, didn't you?" he says, irritated, his voice coated with disgust.
"Everyone of us hates him," the female with black hair says. "What do you think you can get from Chet's anger?" the healer adds. "That's enough," their master utters. "If Eoman goes near those children, we will be digging pits upon pits. You all know that," Ryven says, pointing at all his colleagues before storming out of the room. "You can all go now," their master says. They bow and leave, but Thane remains.
"You have a question," the man asks, noting Thane isn't leaving anytime soon. "How long?" Thane's question hangs in the air. The master quietly drops his pen, then relaxes fully into his seat. Nothing is said, but Thane gets his answer and turns to leave. As he opens the door, "Minimize the casualties," the master says. Thane bows and steps out, closing the door after him. He walks into the hallways, then outside the building, greeting the dark skies.
The surrounding area is different from the large courtyards that scale the front parts of the mountain, where the children are designated to stay and train.
This is the inner courtyard. Grand as many large buildings rise, with intricate carvings and runes interlooping each other. Torches illuminate every pathway, and two gates secure the area. One stands before the entrance to the inner courtyard from the outer courtyard; the second gate leads deeper, past the inner courtyard, to the area designated for the clan leader.
Thane stands by the pond centered in the inner courtyard, staring at the massive building that stands tall above all other buildings. Then turns around, leaving the inner courtyard for the outer courtyard.
______
Blade slices through the air, creating a whoosh sound. Clothes ruffle in the wind. Strands of soft, beige curly hair become sharp as needles in a flowing state. Beads of sweat pool on his face before being swiped off as he continues his movement. His muscles start to cramp, but he cares nothing about it, just continues carrying out fighting stances. The surrounding environment doesn't stay silent; trees are cut at different angles, and the ground has varying densities of cuts. Chet moves with lightning speed, his sword an extension of his hand.
Just when he's about to cut another tree, streaks of blue whizz past the corner of his eye. His sword meets resistance as it comes down. He focuses on the person wielding the sword – Thane stands before him. Then, with a slight force, Thane pushes him backwards. No words are spoken. Thane adjusts his stance, signaling he's ready, his sword held up.
A small, defeated smile plays at the corner of Chet's lips. A light chuckle escapes him, and in a blink of an eye, he appears in front of Thane, his sea-blue eyes locking onto Thane's dark ones as sparks fly from their clashing swords. Chet attacks, pouring his emotions; Thane defends, never switching, parrying his strikes from all corners. Their footwork forms patterns, merging then diverging. Fallen leaves follow the unspoken dance.
The fierce spar goes on until Chet is out of breath, drenched in sweat, and can't move a muscle as they're all cramped up. Thane assists his arm, helping him to a seat on a boulder before a lake. Chet rests, his eyes stared out at the lake, gaze unfocused, solemn again. Thane stands beside him ensuring that Chet feels his presence while reading him.
"How did you know I'd be here?" Chet asks, looking at Thane. Thane looks at him like the answer isn't obvious. "I'm that readable, huh?" Chet says, sighing "How long has it been?" his voice low, "Sixteen years," Thane answers, his voice neutral. "That long, but now it feels like today," Chet says, memories flooding in. Veins begin to form on his neck. Thane looks around; sure enough, the surroundings seem to feel Chet's emotions, entering a slow state.
The breeze takes a long time to push against tree branches. Plucked leaves fall slower than intended, sometimes suspending in the air before remembering they're falling. Noise from small creatures living amongst the trees is dragged out. Thane does nothing as he knows the pain Chet was feeling is something that is impossible to forget.
When the memories and emotions become too much, Chet picks up a stone and tosses it through the air at the lake. The stone seems to phase through something, and the force slowing things down shatters. The surroundings return to their normal pace. The stone plops into the lake, creating no ripples on the surface.
This immediately catches Thane's attention. "Throw another," he says. "What?" Chet asks, confused. "Just do it," Thane urges. Chet becomes alert, noticing Thane has his hands on the hilt of his blade. Chet readies himself, picks up another stone, and hurls it with force at the lake. The stone hits the water's surface, creating no splash, no ripples, no tension – it just enters the water, sinking.
Now, Chet has a questioning look.The lake water, once crystal clear, now churns with grey, misty tendrils that seem to writhe like living things.
Thane takes a step forward to get a closer look. He sees haze, disgruntled faces forming from the moving grey smoke. After looking intensely, he notices they seem to be swirling around something. "What is it?" Chet asks, walking closer. Thane still peers deeply at the pond. That's when he spots a hand as a swirl of smoke passes – the hand bears a familiar mark, the same one placed on the children.
In split seconds, Thane has his sword drawn, the tip pointing downwards. An explosive force erupts in the ground, and lake water splashes everywhere, leaving the lake dry. In the middle, Lucian lays unresponsive, his copper-blonde hair sticking to his forehead, his body having a shade of blue.