Soul Blaze

by Legacy, Aprille

  “Oh my god!” Jess was screaming over and over again. She ran at me, collecting me up. The other runners of my team caught up to us, and then team members from the crowd. “You just won the day for us, Rose!”

  I what? I won the whole day for them? But I was about as sporty as a sloth. My chest heaved but I wasn’t out of breath. My legs didn’t tremble, and I stood tall. On an impulse, I thrust the baton high above our group and was rewarded with the cheer of any team member who saw it.

  “Congratulations.” I turned to the teacher who was coming to pin my blue ribbon on me. I couldn’t help but frown a bit as I realised it was the teacher I didn’t recognise.

  “That was quite a victory.” He continued. “Thanks,” I said, smiling broadly. His hands clipped the safety pin to my tank top, and I couldn’t help but notice the scars crisscrossing them. I glanced up warily, noticing that his eyes were as dark as coal. There was something in them that made me step away. “Excuse me. Need some water.”

  I disentangled myself from my team, heading to the water truck. Something was beginning to drum in my stomach, and it wasn’t exhaustion. I found myself searching for the teacher, but he was gone.

  Two hours later, my team was announced as the overall winner. I cheered with the rest of them as Jess took the trophy for us all. I was still grinning as I gathered up my book and bag.

  “Well done today,” Tyson said, coming to stand next to me. “Your team deserved to win.” I just smiled, not really sure what to say. His team had come second, thanks to him, though they usually came first.

  “Hey,” he caught my arm as I went to turn away. “I asked around about that teacher you pointed out.”

  “Yeah?”

  His mouth twisted in one corner.

  “No one recognised him. Rose, I don’t think he works for the school.”

  Ice filled my stomach. I swallowed nervously.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Look, he seemed really interested in you. Just be careful, ok?” I found myself nodding, but my stomach sank as Tyson continued up the hill towards the car park. I cast one last look over the oval as the sun set behind me, but there was nought on the grounds but my own shadow.

  ~Chapter Four~

  “First place!” Mum greeted me at the door. She beamed at the blue ribbon pinned to my top. “Not the chicken dance, I hope.”

  “Please,” I rolled my eyes. “You know I can’t dance that well.”

  “True. Come on in. Dinner’s pretty much ready.”

  My stomach growled, and I dumped my bag on the shoe stand. I caught sight of my hands and pulled a face. “Just going to wash up,” I called through to the lounge room, and pounded up the stairs before she could answer. Once in the bathroom, I pulled my hair from my ponytail. I shook the waves loose, grimacing as they fell almost to my waist. It was getting too long; definitely needed a hair appointment soon. I started unclipping the ribbon from my shirt, planning on leaving it in my room. As I took it off, I saw writing hidden on the underside of it. I read it quickly, and then flung it away from me, covering my mouth with my hands. My heart beat rapidly as the ribbon slipped into the sink, its message clear to me even on the other side of the room.

  They’re coming for you. Watch your back. I stood pressed against the shower for an age. The urge to call my mother had died in my throat long ago, and though I could hear her yelling for me up the stairs, I didn’t move.

  Who was coming for me? The man pretending to be the teacher at Ar Cena High, or was he warning me of someone else?

  I shoved the ribbon into my pocket and then scrubbed my hands until they were red. Dinner was a quiet affair. Mum talked about my unexpected glory on the oval, and I nodded and mhm-ed along with everything. Her chatter died away as dinner continued though, and I took it as an opportunity to leave the table and skitter upstairs.

  As soon as I was in my room, I locked the door behind me. I grabbed up an umbrella as I turned on every available light source, checking all of the corners with my chosen weapon at the ready.

  Eventually I crawled into bed, the umbrella at my side. As I switched my lamp off, my heart pounding, every shadow became someone standing quietly, watching me. At some time around midnight, I gave way to exhaustion. I didn’t hear the window open.

  I awoke to someone standing over me. There was a second of silence as I took in what was happening, and then drew in all of the air I could to scream.

  Rough hands covered my mouth. I bit down hard on one of their fingers, and though they swore, they held on. I kicked and struggled, my scream muffled.

  “No!” The man covering my mouth suddenly flew backwards into my dresser. I screamed as I saw three more figures entering my room, long dark robes making them look more like shadows.

  My mother. What about her? Had they found her yet?

  Another man was standing in front of me, his arms spread. As I watched, disbelieving, dark flames gathered above his hand, and he hurled fireball after fireball at the other men.

  “Come on, Sky,” his hand gripped my wrist, and I struggled harder than ever. “Now! You have to come with me!”

  “No!” I fought his grasp, simultaneously hitting him with the umbrella. “My mum! I can’t leave her! Not again!”

  For now I realised this was all to do with my past. My missing year. “There’s no time,” the man said, stretching for my mirror on my cupboard. In the dim light, I saw the surface flex. His fingers touched it, and cold terror gripped me as I saw them disappear into the mirror. The other men were beginning to recover and I reflexively threw the umbrella at them. It hit one with a satisfying thud, but the others kept coming.

  “Now!” The man holding my wrist roared, and I screamed as I was pulled into the mirror with him.

  ~Chapter Five~

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “Let her go, Jettais.”

  “They were going to killher.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. They weren’t going to kill her immediately.” There was a dull thud, skin on skin. Someone had punched someone else. There was an outraged squawk, and pressure I hadn’t noticed on my wrist lessened.

  “You’ve made a grave mistake,” someone else said, a woman. An old woman at that. “I don’t doubt it,” I now recognised the voice of the man who’d pulled me through the mirror. “What you’re going to do to her is worse than death.”

  Terror ripped through me. I struggled to open my eyes, but they were too heavy. My body lay immobile on the cold floor.

  “We need her to regain consciousness before we can begin,” it was the woman’s voice again. The other male voice had yet to speak again. “Otherwise her subconscious will fight us.”

  “Don’t you understand it yet?” Jettais, the man who’d pulled me through the mirror, snapped. “If they were after her as well, that means she is –”

  “It means nothing,” the older man finally spoke again, though this time his voice was filled with cold anger. “It only means they suspect the same as us. It proves nothing.”

  “And how long until she accidentally kills you?” Jettais replied dangerously. “If she is who you suspect, and you try to do this, she could kill you.”

  “It is a risk,” the older woman admitted. “One we have accepted.” “Here’s hoping,” Jettais snarled. “Who are you two to decide this? No, you know what, I’m done with you. I’m done sitting back and watching you both rule as you see fit.”

  “Tread lightly, Jettais,” the older male voice warned, and I felt goose pimples rise on my arms. “It would not be wise to cross us.”

  “Cross this,” I heard Jettais spit back. There was a loud crack and suddenly the air was filled with heat and smoke. Someone swore, the old woman I think. My head thudded but I still lay immobile on the floor, unable to open my eyes. Suddenly, I realised that someone was very close to me.

  “I’ll be back for you, my daughter.” I felt Jettais press a kiss to my forehead. Then he was gone.

&nbs
p; The fire was closing in. I felt immeasurable heat start to press on my legs.

  This is it, I thought hopelessly. I die paralysed on a floor.

  With that morbid thought, I sank into the darkness yet again. When I awoke, I was kneeling. I blinked sleepily, my eyes clearing, and I could make out the familiar pattern of my pyjamas, cartoon cows on pink material. I moved slightly, and noticed a heavy weight around my right wrist. My left arm also had the same weight attached, keeping away from my splint. As I lifted my head, I realised I also had on a heavy metal collar.

  I looked around as much as I could. I was in a dingy cell, facing a wall of metal bars, through which I could see the bottom landing of some stairs. The only light available was being issued from torches in heavy brackets on the walls. My hair hung around my face in greasy tresses.

  How long had I been unconscious? And where was I? As though answering my question, I heard someone start down the stairs. A short woman with pure white hair piled on her head came into view, looking all the word like someone’s kind grandmother if not for the scowl on her face and the burns on her robe.

  “Good. You’re awake.” I shuddered as I recognised her voice. “You’ve given us a lot of grief, Sky. But that’ll be over soon.”

  “Who the hell are you?” I asked quietly. I decided it was best not to swear at her, though I was sorely tempted. “What are you going to do with me?”

  She eyed me off.

  “I suppose it doesn’t hurt to tell you considering it won’t matter soon. I’m going to take your magic. Again. I don’t know how you regained it, but it doesn’t matter either way.”

  “So what? You’re going to kill me in the process?” I decided to skip over all the ‘magic’ crap, considering she was obviously insane anyway.

  “It’s a dangerous process,” she said, standing outside of my cell, her hands clasped in front of her. “I’ve never had to take it twice.”

  I swore all of the worst words I knew at her, venting some of my frustration and terror.

  “Charming,” she said when I paused for breath. “Now, shall we begin?”

  She opened the cell. “Don’t come near me,” I said quietly. I could feel the fire in my veins beginning to burn. My fear was activating it. “Don’t even try to touch me.”

  “Hold still,” she said, ignoring me. She held her hand up and I saw something begin to gleam on her palm. Power surged through me. I immediately flung my hand out to protect myself, the chain links tearing from the floor like paper. The power that I’d somehow conjured lit in my hand like a white hot fireball. Fear flickered in her eyes.

  “How did you do that?” she demanded, though I could hear the tremor in her voice. Instead of answering, I tore the other chain out of the floor so that both of my arms were free. Then I stood up, the collar around my neck only tugging slightly before the chain that anchored it to the floor broke as well.

  The woman lifted her hands in front of her, and I saw the gleam of fire in both of them. Before I could think, I flung both of my hands forward, and she was engulfed in white flames.

  The fire was taking too much of me. As the tongue of flame subsided, I felt my limbs grow heavy. The cell, which had burst into brilliant light due to the fire, grew dark, the torches extinguished. I saw the woman fall the ground, her robes charred and smoking.

  I teetered, struggling to regain my balance. I could hear people yelling, and footsteps began to thunder down the steps towards my cell. Someone came barrelling down, a young man with golden hair. He took one look at the woman on the ground, and then looked up fearfully.

  His expression changed immediately.

  “Sky?” he asked, but I was gone again.

  ~

  When I woke, I was tucked into a warm bed. My eyes flickered, and I took in the high, vaulted ceiling. There was a knock at the door. I sat up warily, still wearing my cow pyjamas. I searched the room for some kind of weapon, but besides the bed, it was empty.

  “Come in,” I called nervously, banking on the hope that a hostile visitor wouldn’t bother knocking on the door first.

  The door opened, admitting a young woman around my age. Her hair was rolled into a neat bun, but her large brown eyes wide. Her fingers shook as she lowered the tray she was carrying onto my bedside table.

  “Here you are... miss,” she said, her soft voice showing none of the tremor in her hands. She scuttled out of the room before I could question her. I lifted the lid of the tray off cautiously. So they were buttering me up with breakfast now, were they?

  Well, it worked. I wolfed the toast and eggs down, and then swung my legs out of bed. The stone floor was cold beneath my feet, but I ignored it and padded over to the door. I tested the handle, but it was locked.

  There was a window at the foot of my bed. I approached it and tried to pry it open, but it refused to budge. I fought down the rising feeling of claustrophobia, and instead laid my forehead against the glass. Directly below me was a beautiful rose garden, and beyond that, a large field bordered by a forest. As far as I could see, there were no buildings, no roads, and no sign of civilization.

  I hit the glass experimentally, wondering if I could break it. Though I’d have a difficult job getting down the wall.

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” I jumped as the old man spoke behind me. His eyes watched me, and I suddenly felt exposed. “Please, dress. We have much to discuss.”

  I didn’t take the bundle of clothes he offered me.

  “Where’s my Dad?” I asked, for I now remembered the whispered words of the man. The man didn’t reply. Instead, he put the clothes on my bed and swept towards the door. I could sense anger rolling off of him in waves, but I didn’t care.

  “My father,” I said loudly before he got to the door. “Where is he? I want to see him.” He ignored me and left the room. The door swung back into place, and I heard the lock click loudly. I stood where I was, my heart thudding in my chest.

  My Dad. My father, who I’d never met before in my life. Was he here somewhere? Was he the reason behind my missing year?

  I crossed my arms, tucking my shaking hands against my body. Eventually I crossed the room and held up the shirt the man had left on my bed.

  It was a white shirt with half sleeves. I shot a furtive look around the room before pulling off my pyjama shirt and pulling the white one on. The top was loose, but I quickly laced it up and tied it off. The sleeves were loose and comfortable.

  Encouraged by this small success, I pulled on the deep green breeches and the calf high black boots. My hand went to my hip, and I realised I felt like I was missing something.

  The door opened before I could work it out. I glared at the man who entered.

  “You could knock,” I told him distrustfully. He didn’t reply, instead walking out and leaving the door open. I took this as my cue to follow, and, keen not to spend the day in the room, I took it.

  I followed him down a short corridor and then up some stairs. He opened a door for me and held it open until I walked through it.

  I was standing before a large oak desk. Above it, a glass bar filled with small green stones presided over what was obviously an office. As I watched, the stones trickled to the right, levelling it out somewhat; it had been leaning perilously to the left.

  “Greetings,” a voice said dryly from the corner. I turned to see the old woman I’d fried. I stood awkwardly, trying to figure out if I should feel guilty or not.

  “I’m fine, thank you for asking,” she said, standing up. Her robes were clean and pure again; the soot and burns from last time we’d met were gone. “My name is Netalia. You don’t remember me.”

  “Am I supposed to?” I asked.

  Her mouth twisted slightly in what I think was a smile. I immediately trusted her less. “No, you’re not,” she said, as though it was a victory. “The man behind you is Iain. We are the Masters of this Academy.”

  She let the sentence trail, as though I was supposed to be impressed.

  �
��You answered none of my questions there,” I informed her. “Where is my father?”

  Uncomfortable silence fell. I crossed my arms.

  “I’m afraid I’m unaware who you’re talking about,” Netalia said finally. “The man who set you on fire before I did,” I retorted, beginning to get frustrated. “He... he said that I was his daughter.”

  I went red as I said it. I could feel tears beginning to burn. I wanted this to be true so desperately and as much as I was trying to hide that, I knew it was gleaming through.

  Netalia stood, her demeanour changing immediately. Therewas the kind grandmother that I’d first confused her with.

  “I’m so very sorry, dear,” she said, taking my hands in hers. “But that man isn’t your father.”

  My heart sank. There was a lump in my throat and I swallowed awkwardly.

  “Who was he then?” I asked, trying not to let my voice wobble. “Someone who meant you harm,” she replied, looking into my eyes. We were almost exactly the same height. “We tried to detain him, but he got away.”

  “You were trying to do me harm as well,” I said, pulling my hands from her grasp. “You almost succeeded.” “A misguided venture,” Iain said behind me. He pulled out a chair and gestured to it. I hesitantly sat. “We were trying to figure out if you were the right person for a task, and we went about it the wrong way.”

  Guessing that was about as much apology as I was going to get from them, and considering I’d set Netalia alight, I said:

  “And? Am I the right one for this ‘task’?”

  The two exchanged looks. I watched them warily. “Yes,” Iain said. “You are the one we’ve been searching for. We’re sorry that we had to bring you from the human realm.”

  “The what?” I couldn’t hide that I was out of my depth. “You’re in an alternate realm,” Netalia informed me. “Currently in the Stanthor Academy. We’ll get to the rest

  of the geography later.” “The task is relatively simple, though you may have some moral qualms about it,” Iain continued, not giving me a chance to think over what Netalia had said. “But now is not the time to discuss it. We want to give you the chance to settle in, explore a bit. There will be certain places that you will not be allowed to venture, but we want you to know that this is not your prison, and we are certainly not your keepers.”