Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy)

by Paula Flumerfelt

  Elbowing Solomon in the ribs for making them behave in such an abashed way, Mathieu studied the new female. “Hi.” He said with a bright smile. Ithaine was already a million miles away from his mind.

  Avanon looked up, smiling. “Hey. You must be Mathieu. You’re quite the talking point at the house. I’m Avanon.” She held a hand out. Mathieu hesitated to take it and she laughed. “I won’t hurt you. Kiev just needed it.”

  Mathieu finally took her hand and shook it, looking at her up and down. She was built athletically and had tattoos on her cheeks, but she looked good. The mass of colorful and black hair didn’t hurt her case. “Really now, a talking point? And what is your gift?” He inquired curiously.

  She laughed, cocking one hip to the side. “Yes, you have everyone in something of a fit. I’ve been away, but apparently you destroyed the whole front of the Tri-District Manor. I wish I’d been there for that. Anyway,” Avanon said, jumping into a different topic. “Anyone that I can make skin contact with, I can burn.”

  “That’s so cool!” Mathieu exclaimed, looking at Avanon with a sense of awe. His eyes flicked to the other scolded woman. “And Kiev, what is your gift? Cause those string things were pretty legit.”

  Kiev tossed her hair in a proud manner. “I’m a puppeteer.”

  “Wow!” Mathieu looked at her with big eyes. “So can you, like, control anyone or anything?”

  “Sadly, no. There are a lot of factors.” The blonde woman said, looking to the side.

  Interest peeked, Mathieu raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

  Kiev sat on the floor and folded her legs below her, as if expecting the others to do the same. “Well. Okay, first, it depends on the size of the object. The smaller the object I want to control, the easier. A bunny is easier to control that a tiger. Then I need to consider something’s will. That really only applies to people, though. If their will power is stronger than mine, I can’t hold them. Oh, and the closer their will power is to mine, while still not being as strong, the less time I can control them. Physically, the bigger they are, the harder it is to control, too.” Kiev nodded decisively. “So it boils down to this: how big is it, how much will does it have, and does it have a gift or power, too.”

  Mathieu had sat as she spoke, and was listening intently. “That’s a lot of things to consider before you put your gift to use.”

  Kiev laughed and wiggled her toes. Her hands wrapped around the ends of her feet and she rocked to the side slightly. “Yeah, but it’s so worth it. My powers kicks ass because I can control a person’s mind if they’re weak, on top of their bodies once I get my strings around them.”

  “I bet I could take you.” Mathieu teased slyly.

  Solomon groaned.

  “Alright!” Kiev hopped to her feet, blonde hair swinging, and skipped away from the others so they had room to fight. She lifted her hands, holding them parallel to the floor in front of her.

  Mathieu stood, too, and took a basic fighting stance.

  The lights above them were humming softly and there was a brief moment where silence filled the room. They both moved at the same time, Kiev flicking her fingers up and letting strings of light shoot straight for him, Mathieu jumping through the air towards her, funneling his energy into a sword that mimicked the broadswords he and Solomon had been using earlier. It ended in a shower of energy sparks. Kiev’s strings had wrapped around his wrists and midriff before she had pulled her elbow back sharply, drawing her hand back, and redirecting him into a nearby mirror. Her strings had sunk into his skin and started to strangle him as she slammed him into the wall repeated. All the while she closed the distance between them; her hand danced through the air, making beautiful patterns as she manipulated the strings.

  He ended up on the floor, hogtied, and looking up at Kiev. It had been the shortest fight he’d ever been in and he’s been thoroughly beaten. Wrinkling his nose up at her, he huffed. “Very funny. How did you beat me so easily?”

  “Let me explain,” Solomon said, draping an arm over Kiev’s shoulders as the strings disappeared, “Kiev is my second-in-command. She’s just as tough, rude, and powerful as I am. She’s smart, too.” Kiev blushed and closed her eyes, smiling; the praise made her practically glow. As he spoke, he helped Mathieu up.

  “I never would have known…” Mathieu looked at the pair of blonds, his eyebrows practically at her hairline. It was strange, but in a weird way, it made sense to him. “That’s really cool, Kiev! I mean, you’re like one of the strongest people here.” He looked at the girl, hands on his hips. So easily, he had been beaten and he was beginning to realize just how far he had to go before he could even hope to get his revenge.

  “Well thank you.” Kiev said, taking Mathieu’s hand. “Come on.” She smiled at him and led him back to where Avanon was standing. They took a seat on one of the mats; while the rest engaged in idle chit chat, but his mind was lost in thought. Mathieu really hoped that Solomon would take training him seriously so that he could become stronger. In Unith, he had been strong and his powers were impressive; but here in Korinth where everyone was rather special, he didn’t stand out at all. Maybe he wasn’t as amazing as he had always thought that he was. Sighing through his nose, he shook his head and tried to focus on what the others were talking about.

  Finding it easier that he thought, he listened to them talk and learned quite a bit. Mathieu discovered that Avanon and Solomon were best friends, that Kiev had been born under Nathan’s care so he treated her like his own, and that Nathan had practically adopted everyone staying in the manor.

  “So, have you met Lenore yet?” Avanon asked from her perch on Solomon’s lap.

  Mathieu shrugged one shoulder. “I haven’t met her, per se, however, I’ve seen her.”

  Avanon nodded with a smile. “Gotcha. She’s very cool. But you should meet her soon so she can make your weapon.”

  “Does she really make everyone’s weapon?”

  Kiev took the question. “Yeah. She’s a metalbender so it doesn’t take her long. However, it drains her energy majorly, so she tries not to make too many at a time.” Kiev frowned slightly. “I feel a little bad, though ‘cause she works so hard and it really messes her up.”

  Frowning as well, Mathieu gave the blonde woman a confused look. “Why does she do it if it’s so hard on her?”

  “Well, she isn’t very good at fighting, but she wants to be helpful.”

  Solomon chuckled. “That and no one else can make a weapon like she does.”

  Mathieu mulled that over for a moment. “Huh.” He found her sacrifice rather noteworthy. “So, what kind of weapons do you two use, ladies?” Mathieu asked curiously.

  Kiev and Avanon looked at each other, grinning. Standing, they went to the wall of cabinets together. Kiev wrapped a few of her marionette strings around her hand before pressing it to the wood; Avanon’s glowing hands opened hers. Mathieu suddenly realized that each cabinet would most likely only respond to that person’s power. It was a cleaver way to ensure privacy. That, however, was a concept that he found rather funny, considering the house they lived in.

  The dark haired woman returned with a longbow, energy stones set down its arc. It was elegant, yet had a rigidity to it that was befitting the owner. In opposition, the blonde female brought back a satchel of small circlet blades.

  Kiev sat first, opening her bag and holding up one circular blade. “Pretty, right?” The metal had a bright sheen to it, sparkling like starlight. “I can throw them, accurately might I add, and bring them back to me with my strings.”

  “That sounds pretty damn useful.” Mathieu said, eyes slightly wider than usual. It was quite a very ingenious use of the woman’s power.

  Solomon smiled. “Yes, it is. I’ve had my butt saved by them a fair few times.” The blond man leaned over and patted Kiev on the head. She beamed at him.

  “And we all know that you usually need your ass saved.” The voice came from behind Mathieu and held a deep tremor to it.

 
“Darcia.”

  “Solomon.” The men greeted each other over Mathieu’s head.

  In the tension that ensued, Mathieu lazily looked over his shoulder at the newcomer. Darcia was tall, especially from this angle, and broad across the shoulder. His arms were corded with thick muscles even though he appeared to be in his mid-forties. The man’s hair was jet black and fell into his eyes, but what caught Mathieu’s attention was the mouthful of sharp, pointed teeth. They caught the light at they were bared at Solomon.

  After a moment, though, Darcia’s face relaxed into a smile. “So, I wasn’t invited to the powwow?” The other three laughed while Mathieu sat there quietly as Darcia sat beside him.

  Kiev bumped Darcia’s shoulder. “It wasn’t preplanned. I showed up to see how Mathieu was doing with his first day of training with that bastard.” Kiev stuck her tongue out in Solomon’s direction.”That’s when Avanon showed up to train with Solomon. We started talking about how much stronger we’d become and couldn’t resist a little scrimmage. These two showed up at the end when I was kicking Avanon’s ass, and now you’re here.”

  “You were not beating me!” Avanon said indignantly.

  Kiev laughed derisively. “The hell I wasn’t!”

  “Ladies.” Darcia said with a small, teasing smile. “It doesn’t matter who won. But, it does seem that everyone came to fight with Solomon, myself included.”

  Avanon’s eyes were full of excitement and she looked up at Solomon. “Oh, Blondie do it! You two fighting is the most badass thing. Last time,” her words were now directed at Mathieu, “they leveled our previous training building. It was phenomenal.”

  “Why does that always get brought up? It wasn’t even my fault. If Darcia hadn’t busted out the Fire Sword, I wouldn’t have had to use magic, too.” Solomon huffed and blew his bangs out of his face.

  Darcia chuckled and patted the blond man’s shoulder heavily. “You would’ve lost anyway, but I figured you deserved a challenge.”

  “Except that Nathan put me in charge and he took it out of me, not you. Next time, you can tell him that you destroyed his building. We are not fighting today.” Solomon said resolutely.

  “Afraid you’ll lose?”

  “Never.”

  “Got your butt handed to you last time.” The black-haired man mumbled off-handedly.

  Solomon struck out with his foot, kicking the other man in the shin. “That’s crap and you know it. It was a draw. Elric complained about healing you up as much as he did me.”

  Darcia rolled his eyes and huffed. “C’mon, spar with me. We’ll use those little wooden one.”

  Kiev and Avanon nodded vehemently, egging him on. Mathieu sat there mutely, completely cut off from the conversation. He was somewhat invisible with these people, but sometimes he didn’t mind.

  The blond man sighed, outnumbered. “Fine. Jeez. But let the record show that I said this is a horrible idea.” Grumbling, he got to his feet, closely followed by Darcia, and went to the wall, pulling down two practice swords. “Bad idea. Such a bad idea.” He tossed one to the raven.

  “Wonderful. Take your place, kitten.” Smirking, Darcia crossed the room and took up a neutral stance, the sword’s tip touching the floor just in front of him. His gaze flicked to the girls. “I’d move a little further back, ladies. We don’t need any accidental injuries.” The two scrambled to their feet and moved back as well. Kiev thought to grab Mathieu’s shoulder and pull him with them out of the way.

  Solomon grumbled some more as he took up his fighting position. “Let’s try not to break anything this time.”

  “Solomon, if we didn’t break something, no one would believe we fought.”

  The males stared each other down, eyes narrowing the longer that they glared. Solomon moved first, lunging forward with the blunted tip aimed for the man. Darcia chuckled, easily knocking his blow away and rotating the sword to crack into the blond’s ribs. Solomon grunted and lifted a knee into the raven’s stomach, forcing him to stumble backwards a few steps.

  “Come on, Solomon. Don’t tell me you’re holding back?” Darcia teased.

  “I don’t want to go all out. You aren’t worth it.” Rotating on his heel, Solomon kicked out at the man. Darcia ducked below his kick and swept the blond’s legs out from under him.

  Solomon hit the ground heavily. “Oof!” It didn’t seem as though either attack had gone as planned, though, because the two ended in a pile of limbs. “Jeez. Get off.” Wriggling free, Solomon swung his wooden sword into the man’s stomach, smiling. “Serves you right!” The blond actually laughed manically.

  Wincing, Darcia got to his feet and flicked his weapon out, stretching. Grunting in the other man’s direction, he lifted his blade to in front of his face, running a finger along the blade. It began to glow with an icy white glint, the tip encased in ice. Stepping forward with a speed unsurpassed, he swung the blade in a tight arc as he jumped, soaring through the air and knocking the man into a mirror lined wall. The glass cracked behind Solomon and Mathieu watched as the blond hit the floor. Biting his tongue, he screamed in his mind for his teacher to get up, to kick the crap out of Darcia.

  As the two had been fighting, many hits and exchanged happened without Mathieu’s notice. His eyes tried to track the men’s movements, but their feet and hands moved faster than he could see. They blurred together and apart, the wooden swords making dull thunks more often than seemed right to Mathieu.

  In one of the rare moments that the men were a few feet apart, namely because Solomon was crashed into yet another wall, their gazes met. A shiver of…something went up Mathieu’s spine and the look Solomon gave him was indescribable. But it seemed the blond man understood that Mathieu wanted him to win.

  Nodding. Solomon got to his feet and dusted the small sharps of mirrored glass off of himself.. “Right. No more holding back.”

  Darcia bared his teeth like a shark and raised the sword again, moving towards his sparring partner. “About damn time.” But he never reached Solomon; instead, he soared backwards.

  Solomon took a deep breath and pursued his mark, launching across the room and knocking him further back with the flat of his weapon. It seemed to Mathieu that Solomon had used some sort of magic that he had missed. The sparring pair played a short game of cat and mouse, their movements becoming jerky and fueled with adrenaline, an edge of anger. It ended in a stalemate, swords locked, along with their gazes.

  Both of them were muttering so softly that Mathieu couldn’t distinguish what they were saying. Solomon sounding like a hissing cat, his hair standing on end like one; Darcia’s words were more guttural and his body seemed to be growing in size. Testosterone and power filled the space between them.

  “Excuse me, Mathieu,” Avanon wasn’t looking at him, “I’d recommend that you duck. It’s about to get explosive.” As if on cue, the power that was building between the two men suddenly burst out, rolling like a storm through the room.

  The men burst backwards from each other and landed against opposite walls; Kiev stepped behind Avanon, and Avanon held her glowing hands before her to deflect the flow of power; Mathieu, however, got battered by the brunt of it.

  He could feel it pulling at his clothes and hair, trying to push him back. But it was deeper than that, digging into his soul. Gritting his teeth, Mathieu pushed his energy out into a shield, trying to stop the pain; it helped minimize the spirit wrenching sting, but it took a few moments for the aching to stop completely. At some point, he had squeezed his eyes shut, and as he cracked them open, he found himself lying on the floor, face to face with Solomon.

  “Hey…” The blond was grinning down at Mathieu. “You okay? Probably should have warned you…”

  Avanon made a tutting sound from somewhere above him. “I warned him! He just didn’t listen.”

  “I didn’t know you meant right then!” Mathieu groaned as he tried to sit up, but the pain in his chest wouldn’t allow it. It seemed that since moving here, he had become immobilized far
more often than was normal. His hand landed on his chest and he rubbed softly. It was like a strained ache.

  “Let me see.” Solomon ordered, already pushing up Mathieu’s shirt.

  Flushing, Mathieu batted at him as best he could. “Hey, hey, hey! Knock that crap off. Stripping me is indecent.”

  Green eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Just let me see, okay?”

  Mumbling, he sat up with some help and pulled his shirt up, letting Solomon see. Two small, runic marks had appeared on him, one on the front side of each shoulder; the space between them was red and looked like it might bruise. Gentle fingers poked at the marks and then the injured area, prodding questioningly.

  “Thought so…” Solomon said after a thorough inspection, letting Mathieu’s shirt drop back into place. “Listen, I’m sorry. You didn’t guard fast enough, so we ended up leaving a mark where our energies flowed through you. It might tingle for a while, just so you know. But otherwise, you should be fine.” He patted Mathieu’s shoulder. “Your first battle scar, kid. See why I didn’t want to let Darcia loose on your first? Have to toughen you up a bit.”