Dae
Tree bark pressed against my back, the uneven grooves digging into my skin as if they could be some sort of anchor. My arms and legs were crossed lazily in front of me as I surveyed the scene. A group had gathered at the Black Pool to watch another magically infused volunteer attempt to withdraw power from its hollow depths. To watch if he’d survive.
I stood back, far enough in the trees to not feel that sickly pull when the pool activated, like it was an angered bear disturbed from slumber. There was no reflection on the glass-like obsidian surface. It didn’t echo the life around it, no clouds or trees reflected as would be found on a normal body of water.
Because the Black Pool was far from normal.
Graycin hovered his bulky arm over the tar-like surface. In a lunging stance, he held steady as the water began to swirl. Tendrils of something reminiscent of shadows crawled out like vines, sniffing their way to the hand summoning it. They crept along his forearm, testing, maybe tasting.
A shiver ran down my spine.
The Eleven who’d successfully withdrawn power formed a line to the side, waiting to see if they’d have another join their ranks. They marked themselves with kohl-lined eyes, something to distinguish themselves from the rest. Pointless if you asked me, since the blood that ran through their veins had become as dark as the Black Pool itself, as if its waters now lived within them. No matter their skin shade, the dark veins were visible.
Graycin smirked when the tendrils of the Black Pool reached his chest, wrapping around him like armor. Others hadn’t even made it this far, but I knew not to put stock in that just yet. Graycin twisted to face the line of dark magic wielders, exclaiming, “I’m chosen!”
As if his words poked the beast, the tendrils constricted, drawing a cry of agony from his lips. His knees hit the ground with a crack, gravity not the only force pulling him down. The skin under the shadows charred, his cries echoing in the forest. Even the breeze held its breath, as if the very forest feared to become the next victim to this wretched entity. The Black Pool snapped him into the water, under the surface in a split second. Within a moment, the ripples stilled, like it was so thick it could hardly be disturbed. It returned to its glittery, black, icy appearance. The Eleven simply retreated back to camp, not a word of condolence or regret offered. Not shocking.
Muttering conversation started from some of the others who were still staring in shock. “He was so strong, though.”
“I heard he had four different types of magic fused to him. How could he have not been picked?”
Lifting off the tree, I strode back to camp, taking a wide berth from the pool of death, and leaving Graycin’s memory behind.
What a waste.
5
Ro
We stared at the river, the rapids coursing particularly fast today. I never liked this next part. Rav catapulted Tio across first, using his elemental wind.
“Let’s get this over with.” Feet braced, heart pounding, I mentally counted down the seconds until I touched solid ground. As one could expect, traveling by air wasn’t a steady ride. My quiver and bow remained fastened in my arms until my landing was imminent before I tossed them to the side. They scattered along the grass as roughly as I did.
Tio always recovered quickly, and he already stood, arms folded, staring down at my pathetic body spread out on my back. His eyebrow quirked up in a way that asked, ‘Really? Again?’with no attempt to hide his judgment.
“I hate this,” I glared up at him, sprawled under the afternoon sky with the resounding thud still echoing against my bones.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m aware.” With a clap that stung my palms, he pulled me to my feet. Rav landed beside us with an extra portion of grace, seamlessly transitioning from theair to the ground. I narrowed my eyes at him, my hair whipping and falling from the tail end of his magic. Would he ever give me the satisfaction of admitting he held more control over himself than us? That he needed practice when hurtling us over a watery death? The way he casually brushed his sleeves straight and held a cocky grin as he continued stepping over me told me the answer.
“I’m gonna tell all the beetles to sleep in your clothes tonight,” I threatened while Tio and I fell into step with him, each stride stretching out a newly battered muscle.
Ravinder tossed his head back, projecting his laugh toward the sky. It’d taken me two years after meeting him before I knew he could make such a sound. I still wore it like a badge of honor every time he did. Too often, he had a stick up his a—
“Did you chat with Alba about the supplies? I met up with Gaert before we left and he wants me to bring him back a saddle. Can you imagine that? Like it’s some easy feat to smuggle a saddle out of a crowded market without being caught? The nerve.” Tio scoffed, shaking his sandy highlighted shoulder-length curls in disbelief.
“...Tio, Gaert is six,” I replied flatly.
“Exactly! What is a six-year-old even going to do with a saddle?! Gods, I love that kid.” Tio smiled in that radiant way of his, revealing his gleaming white teeth.
With the influx over recent weeks, more children resided at camp. Tio had naturally taken on the unofficial appointed role of fun uncle. I’d often find him by the fire at story time, little one’s crawling all over him while he told thetallestof tales regarding his adventures into the kingdoms. Granted, he never lied, just painted himself as almost superhuman. Though, part of me suspected he actually believed how extravagantly he acted, despite our missions requiring stealth and subtlety.
Tio had trained with Windguard’s military regime for four years, starting when he was a teenager. He’d become skilled in combat, leaving me flat on my back during our sparring sessions more often than I’d care to admit. To my misfortune, a group of children had been watching us on a day it happened, and since then, Tio had received gods-like status in their eyes.
Something his ego definitely didnotneed.
Tio knew the charm he wielded, and how the ladies so often swooned because of his olive skin, sandy hair with natural golden highlights, and light, piercing blue-green eyes. Plus, his silver nose hoop gave him an edge in Highcrest, though decorative jewelry like that in Windguard was common. My best efforts to humble him on the matter always ended in vain, since any attempt he made to woo a maiden was successful. Maybe not on the first or even second try, but by the end of the night, if he didn’t wish his bed to be cold, it wouldn’t be.
Still, I had to admit that around those kids, he lit up too. They thought him invincible, and after a harrowing childhood himself, I knew he liked to pretend he was everything they thought he was. Maybe that’s why he and I bonded so quickly after we met. Two souls who knew loss and displacement, seeking a foundation in someone else. After I’d laughed off his attempts at drunken flattery one night, we knew friendship was the right path for us.
