Violet Path

by Olivia Lodise

  When Maxime showed up, I avoided his eyes, still embarrassed and obsessed with his warm touch. He trotted in front of us on his horse and another stallion was being pulled behind him. He talked to us about Marc, then told us to follow him in an orderly fashion to the cemetery.

  We rode in a direction I had never gone, and there was no way that I would find my way back if I were lost. The wind bit at my nose and rustled my shirt like a flag. My eyes squinted as tears started to form from the bitter wind. I trusted Storm not to stray away from the group. My stomach felt like a fifty-pound weight. I could hardly breathe as we rode against the cold wind. The discomfort only increased as we approached Marc’s resting place. Regardless of the people who were trying to kill me, I was alive, and I had indirectly caused his life to end.

  “Hey, Alex! Are you all right?”

  I struggled to open my eyes. It felt like my eyelashes were glued together with tears. Sam was speaking to me, but I was hardly listening. My thoughts were too mixed up. I nodded instead.

  Horse by horse, we came to a halt, like a domino effect. We were at a small clearing in the forest, and crosses protruded from the ground in rows. There was a mound of dirt ahead of us with a huge crowd of women, children, and men dressed in black. A hover-board was carrying Marc’s body enclosed by a crystal casket.

  Marc was lying peacefully with his hands on his abdomen, holding a purple tulip and a blue rose. He was dressed in the same black suit that everyone else was wearing. My heart sank again.

  We all got off our horses and left them behind as we walked toward the ceremony. We stood in a circle with Marc in the center, like the sun in the galaxy. Everyone was wearing black, but Marc’s shiny casket caught glimpses of light and bounced them off in every direction, lighting up the crowd.

  A young woman, who was crying, stood next to Marc’s casket. She had red lips, and her blonde hair looked like honey. She was shivering. As she brought her white handkerchief to her face to wipe away her tears, I saw a silver band wrapped around her ring finger. She must have been Marc’s fiancée. I had taken his life and destroyed hers.

  We were cold and crying as we quietly listened to Maxime’s voice in the wind. I couldn’t help but feel like everyone was staring at me, screaming, “Murderer!” I wanted to disappear, but on some level I felt like I deserved the shame and guilt.

  The funeral ended, and everyone started to clear the premises. I noticed David talking to Maxime as we waited for orders to leave. David seemed in pain, refusing to stand up straight or walk strongly. He looked at me quickly, then turned away and joined the crowd. Our orders were to ride back to the camp in our groups and go straight to dinner.

  We left the cemetery, and Marc would never be seen again.

  Chapter 14

  “Get your staff and meet me at my cabin,” Maxime said as we were walking in the darkness. I nodded and did as I was told, but also took my towel and change of clothes. It was very dark, but the moon helped me find my way to his cabin. He was waiting for me with his staff and two black bags. He had changed into his casual clothes and had let his combed hair fall naturally. He motioned for me to follow, and we walked away from the blazing fire.

  When we got to the clearing, he dropped his bag and faced me. I could hardly see him, but quickly realized that the fight had started.

  Maxime attacked; I blocked. I attacked; he blocked. He punched; I kicked. I jumped; he rolled. We were moving everywhere, but neither of us was winning or losing. I felt as if we were dancing. Suddenly, he pushed me against a tree so that I could hardly move, but the fight wasn’t over.

  “You forgot that the tree was there. Focus. Remember what is around you and use it to your advantage. Don’t let me manipulate you.” Maxime’s face was so close that our noses were almost touching. His eyes were a frozen blue. I closed my eyes and pictured where we were, focusing all of my strength on pushing him away. Why was he stronger than I, even with the S.S. Pill? I was breathing heavily as he leaned into me.

  With a quick move, I nailed him to the tree behind him. I was smiling. “Forgot about the tree?” I teased, and he chuckled before pushing me back. I caught my balance and blocked his attack. I stayed on defense for a long time before I tripped him. We kept fighting and were starting to get tired, so Maxime spoke, “Truce? I need to leave soon.”

  “Tired?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.

  “Not really, but a bit.” He smiled.

  “Then let’s go.” I lowered my staff and headed to the showers with him. It was too cold to sweat, but we weren’t frozen either.

  When we arrived at the showers, he handed me a black bag. “It’s your armor. Please try it on to see if it fits. It’s kind of complicated, so if you put on the first layer, I can help you with the rest.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, took the bag, and walked in. I turned the shower on before undressing, then called Maxime in. I heard the door creak open and then fall shut. He turned on the shower next to mine. I then turned the water off, stepped out, and quickly dried off. I found a clean wound dressing in the black bag and wrapped it around myself. I then looked into the bag more carefully—everything was black. Some pieces were cloth, some leather, the others metal. I pulled out a one-piece suit that looked a lot like a winter leotard. It was skintight and fit perfectly, but it was very thin and not very warm. I tried my best to zip up the suit in the back, but to no avail.

  I looked through the bag, excited like a child opening presents on Christmas morning before anyone else was awake.

  “Can I come out?” asked Maxime.

  “Sure! Sorry, I forgot. I’m not facing you.” I turned around and shut my eyes. I heard him step out and unzip his bag.

  “You can turn around now,” Maxime said. I opened my eyes and saw his reflection in the mirror in front of me. He was dressed in his black uniform. His wet, curly hair was covering his eyes, and when he pushed the hair away, his wet eyelashes accentuated his bright, blue eyes. He smiled. I started to turn around, but he placed his hands on my shoulders and stared at me in the mirror. I felt his warm hand slowly lift the zipper up, closing my suit. He then turned me around.

  “Well, it seems to fit you very well. How does it feel? Comfortable?”

  “It’s perfect, thanks,” I replied, still star-struck by his gorgeous eyes.

  He handed me a pair of pants. They were somewhat baggy and had a lot of pockets. I slipped them on while he handed me a pair of black leather knee-high boots that laced up in the back. They looked very feminine, but apparently everyone here wore them. I laced them up as quickly as I could, tucking my pants into them. He then handed me a black leather belt that broke into two parts on the left side. I wrapped it around my waist and looked at Maxime, who was observing my every move.

  “Not to make you feel self-conscious or anything, but you model the armor better than any guy I know,” he laughed.

  “Thanks,” I answered and shyly looked away.

  “I didn’t mean that. What I meant to say was . . . um . . . how ’bout I just shut up?” Maxime stumbled on every word and laughed. I didn’t want him to shut up; I liked his voice. It was calm and soothing.

  He pulled out two small pieces of metal and leather that he then laced up my forearms. He then took a larger piece of metal to protect my torso and laced it up my back. It was too quiet, and I was getting nervous.“Why is David so dark and gloomy?” was all I could come up with.

  “Because he lost everything,” Maxime’s tone darkened.

  “What’s everything?”

  “Loved ones.”

  “Family?”

  “And fiancée.”

  I had already gone too far, but Maxime noticed my intrigue and elaborated, “He was in the forest with her. Her name was Alice. She looked a lot like you. Anyway, Matthew’s men attacked them. One of Matthew’s men held her and stood with his back to David. David shot and killed him, but the bullet went through the man and Alice’s heart. A small genocide directed by rage followed as David killed
every last one of Matthew’s men and then carried Alice back to Maria. He buried her in the same cemetery where we just buried Marc. A month after Alice’s death, Maria was attacked by Gorlan, another community who had supported Matthew until he destroyed them as well, and a few weeks later, we split up and settled closer to H.S.H.S. Maria and The Shadows used to be one camp.”

  I was speechless. How could I have hated David? He had been through so much. I couldn’t blame him anymore. I found it harder and harder to breathe. I felt terrible, but it all made sense. “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  “Don’t be. You weren’t there; Alice was. And I was there. I should have done something, but didn’t,” Maxime lowered his voice.

  “I’m sorry. You said he lost family as well, so you’re a victim as much as he is. Don’t blame yourself,” I said, trying to be helpful.

  “We’re brothers, but not related by blood, so no, I’m not a victim like him.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “You say ‘sorry’ a lot,” he interrupted.

  “Sor . . .” I cut myself off.

  Maxime finished lacing up my armor. Everything was comfortable and seemed to fit well, but the chest armor was very big, bold, and bulky. It didn’t look as bad as it felt. Maxime slid his fingers under the strap of my armor and pulled on them to make sure that it fit well. It was snug.

  “It looks good, but how does it feel?”

  “Great,” I lied.

  “Here’s a sweater that fits over the armor, because the armor doesn’t protect you from the cold winters,” he said as he handed me a black sweater. I pulled it over my head; it fit perfectly.

  Maxime took one last glance at me, then helped me take the armor off. He said that my casual clothes were in my new black bag. I started to hand him his shirt and belt, but he blushed lightly and asked if I could leave them on his bed with his black bag. I nodded and watched him comb his slick hair.

  As we walked back to The Shadows, I couldn’t stop thinking about Marc and his pretty, blonde fiancée crying at the cemetery. Her tears were like diamonds plummeting to the earth and shattering. They were precious tears shed for the one she loved. And then my mind spun with thoughts of David: his cold, black eyes, and how he always looked at me as if I’d done something terrible. But I realized he was probably just sad. Maybe I reminded him of all that he had lost, the love of his life, his Alice. Despite the warmth that Maxime provided as he walked beside me, I shivered in the cool, winter breeze.

  Chapter 15

  “The guys and I were planning on practicing as a group, and we were wondering if you were interested in joining us,” Nick said after breakfast. I was surprised that he had invited me and gladly joined the club. I got my staff and followed him.

  Everyone in my group decided that they wanted to practice uneven teams and wanted me to give them some tips as I had more experience sparring with Maxime. They kept asking questions as though I was a virtuoso, but I was afraid to give them the wrong information. I did my best to help them improve as I called out their mistakes. Timothy’s left foot was weak, and he didn’t trust it; Mike’s jumps were too open; the other Mike, George’s brother, had unstable landings; John’s attacks were extremely hesitant; and Nick’s faults were masked by his quick reactions. They asked if I would duel them, and I agreed, more than happy to move instead of sit and watch.

  At first we did two-on-one, then three, then four, and then everyone jumped in for fun. It was impossible, but extremely entertaining.

  Because I knew their weaknesses, I wasn’t losing too badly, but it wasn’t easy. Nick was the best out of the group and he knew it. He would attack when I was off guard or mix up the rhythm of the fight just to throw me off. The worst was when they would attack all at once and try to surround me. I was hit in the back a lot, but they weren’t trying to really hurt me, and I only received bruises instead of true injuries.

  I was able to fight off three, but not all five at once. I wasn’t even close to winning, but we were all having fun. Nick was backing off a bit, but I was still having a hard time.

  Someone tripped me from behind when I was facing all of my opponents in line. I looked up and saw David glaring at me. I quickly got to my feet.

  “I see that you warmed up. Who lost? They have thirty push-ups to do,” David said in a strict voice.

  “We were only having fun, sir,” Nick snapped back before anyone else could respond.

  “Is fighting fun?” David asked.

  “No, sir,” we all answered in unison.

  “Loser, step forward,” David ordered mockingly, but with a straight face.

  I was about to take a step out of the line, but Nick tried to defend me. “Sir, it was an unfair fight.”

  “Are fights fair?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Thirty push-ups!”

  I didn’t bother answering. I just got down and started counting. To my surprise, Nick got down with me and the whole group followed. When Nick had said that I was one of them, he had really meant it. I waited for everyone to finish before getting up. David barked out orders again. We were going to start where we had left off the previous class. I was paired up with Nick and Timothy. After the fights, no matter if we won or lost, we all did the push-ups. Class went by quickly, but David didn’t dismiss us right away.

  “Who lost the fight before class?” he asked again.

  “Why do you ask, sir? They did their push-ups,” answered Nick.

  “So did the whole class! Shouldn’t they be ashamed of having taken their whole class down with them?” David’s tone was aggressive, and his eyes targeted me.

  “They lost with honor, and the others won with humiliation.”

  “If they lost with such honor, why don’t they step forward to receive recognition?” David spat.

  “Honor is not something to receive recognition for. It’s not something to be revealed to everyone.”

  “Are you saying that you lost, Nick?”

  “I said nothing of the sort, sir.”

  “But you are implying it.”

  “How so, sir?”

  “You are the only one answering, the only one defending yourself.”

  “The others may not wish to speak, sir.”

  “But you do, to defend your honor.”

  “Maybe sir, and maybe not,” Nick said with a smile.

  “So why doesn’t the loser defend himself?” David spat.

  “Who said they weren’t, sir?”

  “How are they?”

  “Both silence and voice are defense, sir.”

  “How so, Nick?”

  “You need silence to understand voice, sir.” A malicious grin slid across Nick’s face, while David’s pupils became darts.

  “And voice to understand silence?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then understand this: no one is dismissed until they finish one hundred push-ups in silence!” David yelled.

  “Yes, sir!” we all answered. We did the push-ups in silence as David stood in front and counted. I finished first, but waited for Nick.

  Nick and I left in silence. As soon as we were in the forest, away from David, I said, “Thanks.”

  “No problem. It was fun, and David needs to learn how to drop a conversation,” Nick laughed.

  “Still, you could have gotten into a lot of trouble.”

  “But I didn’t, and we dragged you into all of it.”

  “It was thirty push-ups!”

  “Doing them only made us stronger. Come on, you’re like sixteen; we’ll look out for you.”

  “Thanks, but you really fired him up.”

  “Talking back is the only power we have over . . .” Nick stopped and pushed me against a tree, his hand firmly planted on my chest. I was confused as he looked around alarmed. I tried to take my mind off his hand on my chest, but he kept me still. After two minutes of pure silence and paranoia, he pulled his hand away.

  “I’m sorry. I could have sworn that I heard someone loading
a gun of some sort. I must be hearing things.” Nick smiled and started to walk toward camp.

  A shot fired.

  Nick fell.

  My stomach twisted into a tight knot.

  I crouched beside him as his abdomen gushed with blood. I looked around, my chest tightening with fear. Suddenly, I felt a stinging pain run down my back, and I screamed. I turned around and saw a short figure standing in front of me.

  He was dressed in black and a bright, red cloth masked his face. His belt carried a gun, and he held two swords in his hands. He threw me a sword and I caught it, confused at what was happening. Then I realized that he was playing with his prey.

  He came running toward me, and I blocked his sword from cutting my neck. I held the sword up, and his met mine. He leaned against it, trying to get me to give out so my sword would slice my throat, but I pushed him back and he hit the tree behind him. I knew the forest much better than he did and could use it to my advantage, so when he got up and tried to hit my side, I moved away and kicked him against another tree. I then kicked his sword out of his hands, elbowed his side, and kicked his jaw. He took out the gun. My heart raced. He shot once, and I hid behind a tree. I heard him walking toward me, but I couldn’t tell whether he was on my right or my left.

  “Your right!” Nick screamed. I turned to my right and kicked the gun out of his hands. He tried to punch me, but I kicked him in the stomach. He reached for his sword and lunged toward me, but I quickly darted out of the way.

  He picked up his gun again, aimed the barrel at my heart, and pulled the trigger. I ducked, the bullet just missing my shoulder. He shot again, and I dove behind a tree. I heard him on my left, so I jumped out and sliced at his right shoulder with my sword. He yelled in pain, his shoulder bleeding.

  He paused for a moment, staring at me, as if he was deciding his next move. Then he ran off into the forest.