Chapter One
Kellan Krestloe remained in his place in the tree, high above, as Saraya Myri swayed around, throwing blasts of magic at defenceless trees to force him out of hiding. A wisp thing like her should not have concerned him if not for her past. She had been killed years ago in Combat Discipline class and might do so again to free herself from an alliance with him.
He prayed on the chance that she cared more to rise on the Scoreboard and leave Nexus Hall than end his life. He doubted it even while the thought breathed its first. Saraya was like the sun in the Salaran deserts, high and mighty. Torrid and hostile. She frightened him almost as much as she dazzled him.
“It is just me here, Krestloe,” Saraya called out. “Soliniter went in the opposite direction.” She quietened as if she’d forgotten they were on the same side this year.The headmaster ordered it so. Her gaze blackened, and she spat a curse. “Where are you?”
Kellan climbed higher and a branch snagged against his tunic. Rosim Soliniter, Saraya’s soon to be former ally, had to be somewhere nearby. If it were two against one, Kellan was sure to lose. If it were only Saraya, he could stand to survive. He discovered a large enough loose branch nestled between two firmly fixed sprigs and pulled it out.Delaying until she came into view again, he released it a way behind, not to maim, only startle. It dropped by her feet, and she stopped.
He grinned.
“I won’t harm you.” She rotated again. “I’ve no power to match yours.”
Now he laughed, loud enough for her to hear until it curtailed her appetite for blood. She set herself there, fixed, jerking head movements like an owl, gaze more exacting than a hawk’s as it scoured for its prey.
“Where are you, Krestloe?”
He cleared his throat and put into practice one of few spells he knew. The spell of echoes.
“I’m all around you, dear Sara.” His voice reverberated into at least ten others.
She tutted, her eyes squinting and she placed her hands into a cupping motion. He couldn’t see what she was doing, but she appeared to be murmuring into her hands.Then she flung them asunder, arms outstretched, and the ground groaned a complaint.
Kellan fought to hold on, but he was not invincible. His tree and around fifteen others suddenly wobbled as if their roots were on fire. The tree let out a pained sort of cry and expelled Kellan from his place, and he landed on the ground with an excruciating crack. It would pass as his injuries usually did, but for now ... agony.
Her cruel laugh floated closer, followed by lithe footsteps. She came to stand over him, her dark curls obscuring some of her face. It startled him. Those copper eyes and the lack of mercy in them. He was reminded of that late night when he awoke to her standing over him, the flash of her dagger as she drew it to his neck.
If she wanted, she could kill him now, away from the class.
“Saraya, don’t be foolish,” he said, wishing to appeal to any goodness. To the memory of their old friendship. “If you won’t have pity, think of your own head. My unit will come after you. Borne will punish you severely.”
She gathered her dress and sank to the floor, gaze steely. “I could snap your neck with one incantation.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he said.
“Krestloe, you’re in no position to challenge me.” Whispering under her breath, she rustled around on the floor, and for a second, he thought she was checking his pulse or whether his bones were intact.
But that couldn’t be ... she had sworn to defeat him. Her only wish was to wriggle out of the bind that the headmaster had placed over their necks, the one that had confined them together for the year.
“Should I bless your short life with a prayer?” She mused, scraping her nails against his fingers. He opened his eyes and found a bunch of white flowers on his chest. Saraya was in the process of moving both his hands to hold them.
“This isn’t funny,” he managed, without exerting himself too much.
“On the contrary, it is hysterical.” Her unpleasant smile expanded. “Here lies a silly boy, gone too soon. Or rather, I say, gone at precisely the right moment. He never showed intelligence or bravery, but stupidity and a willingness to act rashly.”
“Saraya, you’ll regret ... ah!” He’d tried to lift his head, but the pain sent spasms through his body, and he slumped back down.
She stopped smiling, her head peeking closer, her ringlets falling onto his forehead and tickling him. A mere hairbreadth away. From here she probably saw the beads of sweat forming like tiny stars.
“Strange,” she said. “I thought you could heal.”
His skin prickled with the feeling of ant bites. Maybe they were, since he couldn’t move to scare away any insects. “I can’t heal when I’m tired,” he said, wincing through every word. “Come, Saraya ... I can’t...” He let out a gasp. “I can’t move to adjust myself. I can’t focus.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Do you honestly wish death upon me?”
“No,” she said straight away. He smiled. “You can die when I don’t have use for you.”
His smile evaporated, and he allowed his lids to shut.
“Will you sit up now?” She asked.
No. He would not move; he’d play dead.
“Krestloe, you’re still breathing.”
He stopped.
“Don’t pretend you can’t heal, you fool.” Saraya started shaking him by the shoulders. “Krestloe, if Rosim discovers what the headmaster said ... they will kill me.” It seemed the seriousness of the situation had finally appeared to her. She sounded a little frantic, but only so slight because her usual emotionless drone had the smallest inflection. “Krestloe. So, you’re going to let yourself die out of spite?”
She drew her fingers to his face, poking the cheeks. Looking into his eyes to see if he was still conscious. It took much of his energy to stop bursting into peals of laughter as she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Another examination. Her hands were warmer than they should be in the searing wind.
“Fine,” she said, finally resigned. “Die then.”
Kellan took in air again. “You still care about me.” He grinned, all teeth showing at her consternation. “There we have it, it appears I am quite capable of fooling one of the greatest minds at Nexus.”
“You mock me,” she said, putting distance between them.
He chuckled heartily at her petulance and then groaned when the motion affected his brittle bones. “Aw,” he griped. “I’m starting to feel every inch of the injury now. Come back here and help me heal.”
“Why don’t you heal yourself?” She retorted, already walking away.
“Who in my unit will protect you if I die? Think about it. My bones will heal wrong.”
Her footsteps slowed.
“Saraya, I know ... I know things are not well between us now but...”
He trailed off for he already sensed her hesitation. One that astonished him. She swivelled back and started scavenging on the ground, then came to sit beside him again. A hazy sensation washed over him as he watched her though he could see nothing but the shape of her.
“Oh, dear,” she said.
“What?”
“Don’t look at your arm.”
He tried, truly tried, to obey, but curiosity was his worst weakness.
“Do not look!”
But he saw it: bone, off white and alien, jutting from the raw, torn flesh of his arm, inundated in blood. Vomit rose in his throat. Saraya hissed an insult, helping him to his side before a violent spray spewed out, a splatter of yellow and green.
“Lovely,” she remarked, patting his back. “Now lay down and don’t move.”
Through heavy lids he witnessed her work. She arranged branches and twigs around him, forming shapes that his unimaginative mind could never fathom. He mumbled about how ‘amazing’ and ‘beautiful’ the glowing currents looked, wrapping around each other in the air as her hands weaved magic. Golden accents dancing above him like jewels. All spells looked hypnotic, but this incantation replaced his pain with a dreamlike bliss he had never felt before. Whether it was the pain or a concussion, he couldn’t keep himself present.
a/n: hey guys, I’m really excited to share this story and if you don’t mind letting me know what you think of it, where I should improve, what you would like included, I would be so appreciative. Thanks!
