“Well boys, it seems we find ourselves at a crossroads.”
The rumbling snickers of her army sounded all around them. Memphis tensed against him, and he clenched his teeth so hard, the pressure was overwhelming.
Bresslin raised an eyebrow in mock shock. “Oh, nothing to say? No words of great chivalry? I’m disappointed.”
The snickers transformed into full-blown animalistic chortles as the flush climbed up his cheeks.
Behind Bresslin, the Gortach rumbled, “Why not start with the shifter? He drew his blood and unleashed me. We owe him our deep gratitude.”
She paused. “Is that so?” Bresslin assessed him, and he wanted to fade away underneath her stare.
Jutting his chin out, he pressed his lips in a thin line.
“Well, it does seem to be our lucky day. I assume this is yours, too?” She held up his worn pack, and he swallowed hard.
Her lips split, showing her gleaming teeth in a pointed grin. “Oh, do we ever have much to talk about.” Sauntering toward them, the ice thickened and the snow howled until all they could see was her cunning smile. Her voice drifted on the wind. “The Academy is done. It’s time for you to decide which side you stand on.”
“We are with the Faes.” It erupted from him in a guttural growl, and Memphis rocked uneasyily behind him.
“Really?” She appeared in front of them suddenly, the Gortach trailing behind her. Their reflections flashed in the bright metal, wide-eyed. “And here I was willing to give you two a break to join our ranks, even given your status.” Snickers pushed against them, closer. “You see, boys, I think it’s unfair that such power can be born from nothing. Especially you, Carter. Weren’t both your parents desolates outside the capital? I dare say we took care of them.” No. He watched as those vicious words crumpled his best friend, fracturing his control.
Memphis lunged, screaming, “What did you do?” The edge of the sword found his throat faster than he could register.
Bresslin tutted, her breath hot against his cheek as the Gortach attacked Memphis, his screams bouncing off the ice around them. “Don’t move another muscle, if you want your friend to live.” The blade pressed harder, and swallowing, he felt the small incision cut and heal, cut and heal. His hands trembled as blood trickled down his skin. The Gortach froze as Memphis dove, ice slicing through his clothes. He watched the Gortach’s gaze narrow, and he knew Memphis was throwing every ounce of his ability into the fight. But it wasn’t enough. Roaring, the ancient creature charged and slammed into Memphis, and his friend instantly crumpled to the ground.
The scream tore threw him just as Bresslin’s fist connected with his gut. Wheezing, he doubled over, and she followed, whispering into his ear, “This is just a taste of what is coming.” She slammed the pommel into his temple. He dropped to his knees, as the woods became a blur of colors, ice ripping through his knees. He felt the blade caress down his cheek, trailing down his chest. Memphis was screaming, the sounds like a dying animal. Bresslin smirked. “This seems like a good place to start.” Blade met blood, pain encompassing his world, until it was all he knew, all he could taste and breathe. Losing himself, it consumed his world.
15
Adair
There was something strange hanging in the air. A shimmering, tangible energy that quaked the ground with each step he took, each breath, every longing glance behind him. The tang of magic and promise clung heavily around him, making him tremble with anticipation. He would no longer hide in the shadows. Sweat slid down his nose as he peered around the corner. The hallways were empty, and he had avoided all contact with the patrols so far. At the end of the hall, the smooth oak doors of the Fae’s office stared back at him, that light seducing him, gliding around the frame of the doorway, curling and unfurling with an elegant grace. Stepping forward, he heard his soft footfalls, his breath catching as he closed the space in strides.
“Adair?” Emory appeared behind him, melting from the shadows, worry etched into every feature. She wore a loose shirt and fitted pants. Every day that passed, they were both growing into the people that could carve the world. She stepped closer, every word pronounced, “What are you doing?”
He spun to face her, feeling his lips turn up slowly. She blanched, stopping as she took him in. He slowly tilted his head. “Why, Princess, you shouldn’t grace me with such a late visit.” His voice sounded alien even to him. Smooth, silken, and full of mockery.
Her face darkened, and she stood taller as she strode toward him and struck him fiercely across the cheek. “Listen, whatever you’re going through, whatever this is, just talk to me. Don’t shut down. Don’t push me out. This isn’t you. I want my best friend back, I need him back. Please.” Her chin wobbled, her eyes brimming, and she reached out toward his hand. “I know what the other students say. I know what you have heard. You aren’t like your father, Adair. You are so much more.”
He stalled, tilting his head, scrounging every detail of her face, the tears streaming down her cheeks. Running a hand through his hair he whispered, “You’re right.” He stepped closer, and she radiated light.
“I am more.” He felt that power stir in him. Stepping even closer, he drawled, “You could have been as well.” Fear sparked in her eyes as blood drained from her face, and she lunged toward him, trying to latch on, to drain him of his ability. He had always been faster. She crumpled as he slashed through her defenses, shutting them down and knocking her unconscious. Licking his cracked lips, he whispered down to her still form, “I’m sorry.” Without looking back, he continued down the hallway, leaving her behind.
The light flared and exploded, like thousands of his own personal constellations, the smooth edges of the captured light forming hundreds of orbs, glistening like polished emeralds. It stole his breath as they parted, forming his own personal walkway, and as he passed, they ebbed, dying slowly. His heart pounded, and he could practically feel the heaviness seeping through his bloodstream, curdling him until he was only the darkness trapped within him. That had marked him. He reached the heavy doorway and pulled the handle. It swept inward seamlessly, unlocked because he didn’t realize the room was already occupied. Roque looked up, startled and wide-eyed as he looked at Adair, bewildered.
Shutting the door quickly behind him, he didn’t miss a beat. “Sorry for the interruption, your highness. I was hoping we could talk?”
Sighing, he murmured, “Please, Adair, come in. And don’t worry about the titles. I doubt by this point there is much of a country left that will recognize me as their highness.”
His adrenaline stirred as he took a seat, trying not to stare at the pulsing wall behind them, practically screaming out to him. Shutting the door, he whispered, “Oh, really?”
Roque hunched over the map, his eyes roaming frantically, as he whispered to himself, “We need time to reunite the borders, before heading into another war.”
Swallowing hard, Adair felt that familiar tug of his ability climbing through him. “My father won’t grant any more time than what we have already had.” Roque raised his gaze, focusing in on him. He smiled, his voice surprisingly soft. “The time to act is now.” Everything shattered through him. Gripping Roque’s forearm, the King of Kiero was frozen, his mouth gaping noiselessly as Adair rampaged everything he was. He had always imagined what breaking into a desolate’s body would be like. It was a sick fascination he had. His ability was what made him feel strong first and his character followed. As his grip tightened and his talons ripped and shredded through Roque’s memories, it was like he was the siren and Roque was sailing toward his deadly rocky shore, frozen and entranced. Years flickered through his mind, bright and sharp. He shifted quickly until he found what he was looking for. The memory lurched through him.
Nei clutched his arm as he slammed into the wall, breaking through. “Roque, can you just listen to me for a second?”
He panted, thrusting the weathered book in front of her. “You want to discuss leisurely while you know exactly what is
in these pages now?”
She tenderly rested her hand on his arm. “We cannot have it here. The world of Daer has betrayed us. This time, we must do something. Instead of hiding the artifact, let’s destroy it.”
Roque choked a laugh. “How, Nei, do we begin to explain that we have formed a secret organization under the nose of an entire country? An organization that has crafted possibly the most powerful weapon in the world, by accident! And then begin to explain that Damien Foster has made treaties with worlds that we only know about? It sounds insane. Illegal and insane.”
She growled. “The world is defined by a lot of things. Magic. Power. Love. Status. But it is the people who shape it. It once sounded insane for me to marry a pompous prince who I thought knew nothing about sacrifice. You proved me wrong. Now do the same for me. Prove that you aren’t acting out of fear.”
His hands shook, stalling. He looked up, his eyes filled with sorrow, and he whispered, “No. It will stay here, hidden until the time is right. No one will know. Not even Cesan and Bresslin.”
Nei’s face darkened, her light demeanor vanishing. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she said nothing as the wall crumpled and Roque started burying the book within the walls.
He was slammed back into the present time, staring at Roque Fae. Heat flushed over his entire body as his grip tightened. “What did you do?” Roque paled as Adair pinned his ability sharper and deeper. His pulse raced faster and faster as he growled. “What is in the book?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roque rasped, his lips starting to turn blue, his skin graying with every second.
He seethed. “I highly doubt that.” And he slipped from his body.
When Adair used his ability, usually it was like circling around the consciousness, assessing his obstacles, and then landing the blows where he wanted. This was striking with his will, and he gripped every nerve, every ounce of the king’s physical anatomy, until he commanded all of it. It was like snuffing out a candle, backing the other soul into a corner and keeping it in check. They moved as one toward the wall, and looking through Roque’s eyes, he could see the light calling them. Calling him. He moved, Roque’s memories telling him that it was surrounded by magic, shielded by it. Created by the professors, out of their loyalty came no questions. They moved, and the wall transformed for the only person it would. Roque. Gold-infused pillars appeared before them like smoke, shimmering but not fully solid. Not fully real. In between them, a small shelf was created, and an ordinary weathered book lay in the middle. They stepped closer, and inky words sprawled in the air before them, appearing from nothing.
“I can be fickle, yet strong. Attained, yet used, Desired, yet shunned. What am I?”
Pausing, he impatiently read through the riddle. Shifting through memories, he knew if he answered wrong the consequences would be dire. Roque fought against him, his feeble attacks laughable, as he sank him deeper in the folds of his ability. As that darkness tightened around him, drowning them both, the answer became clear, and Roque faded into nothing.
Smiling, Adair whispered, “I am the truth.” The words disappeared at his deep voice, melting and dripping away any shield, laying the book bare before him. The light disappeared, the essence that had drawn him forward whisked away with the gold pillars in a cloud of sparkling mist. Adair. Excitement trickled into his stomach. Adair. Reaching toward it, his hand shook.
The voices cooed, wrapping around him, comforting yet still foreign. The world vanished behind him, and he barely breathed as he picked it up. The front cover flipped open, the pages flailing wildly in an unseen wind. Smoke stirred in only the spine seeping out of the pages. Pooling at his feet, it circled him. Breathing heavily, he watched as down his forearms and onto the back of his hand, his veins and skin were drenched in the same smoke, one trailing toward the other, a cosmic pull. Uncontrollable and undeniable. They collided, and the world exploded. Shards of smoke flattened and crystalized into pools of black shimmering mirrors that made up his surroundings, as he freefell through space and time. Capturing broken glances, his reflection showed him in his true body, his jacket wildly flapping, his unkept hair. Choking back his screams as he fought gravity, plummeting faster, his eyes burning from the wind. Deeper and deeper he fell, his hands grappling for anything to hold onto. To stop. Faster and faster he was pulled, the mirrors intensifying around him. Distorted flashes of him splayed in them, his wide eyes, his open mouth silently choking on his scream. But then in the darkness, twisting, those pale faces, and sickening smiles reflected at him, so fast he barely thought he saw them correctly. But all around him, captured in the flawless surfaces, those creatures that haunted his waking moments followed him down into the darkness.
Gritting his teeth together, he pressed his eyes closed, tears seeping from his lids as he plummeted. The wind howled all around him and sharp giggles tainted them, making a sick orchestra climbing and crashing around him. Always, they played just for him. His breath wheezed out of him, his eyes flying open. Underneath him, the light curled around his body, weaving together likes vines, cradling him. Choking on his panic, a maniac laugh bubbled from his lips. Patting his body down, he was in one piece. Beneath him, the light started to pulse once more, a soft and comforting heat flooding through him. On shaky legs, he stood slowly, and the light unfurled before his eyes. A beautiful and an intricate staircase formed, leading him forward, into the unknown of this place.
Magic hung heavy in the air. He paused, looking up into the darkness. Back to where he had come from. Straightening his jacket and popping his collar up, he breathed deeply, wrenching his gaze forward. To where a world of mystery and enchantment sparked to life before him. The staircase had solidified, its curving rails inlaid with a deep green hue, the staircase itself having bled out any color, turning it into a shimmering black. Embers floated around him, silver instead of fiery tones. They lazily spun through the air, creating the illusion of a starry sky, each constellation blinking into existence. His steps echoed as he walked, slow and unsure.
“Adair Stratton. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” The voice was smooth and commanding and filled with promise.
“Who’s there?” His voice was surprising steady, and he was thankful for that. Internally, he was quaking, the shards of his old self and life ripping away and fading. Reaching the bottom, his boot hit the cool floor, and a hissing filled his senses. Twisting, particle by particle, the stairs dissolved, floating up and becoming one with the shadows around him. Swallowing hard, he forced his body to move forward.
“It is not so much who, but what.” The voice shook through the marrow of his bones, steady and resilient.
His voice was cool. “I’ve had enough of riddles for one day, thanks. Where am I?”
His question echoed, bouncing off walls unseen to him. Instead of answering, before him the ground tilted and he slipped down. Finding his balance, he steadied himself, his eyes adjusting to the pristine light emitting from the pool before him. The surface was so still, it looked like glass. Below the water, crystals made up the bottom of the pool, their defined edges emitting a dazzling display of colors. Greens, golds, blues, reds all sparkled up at him as he lowered himself onto his knees before its edge. He was enraptured.
The voice echoed. “Come closer to find your truth.”
Complying, he leaned forward, blinking down at his reflection. Then the water churned, plunging him into darkness as the crystals winked out. His breath came fast, and he couldn’t rip himself away. Before him in the swirling waters a world formed that he didn’t recognize. Flames consumed everything, whisking away the capital, the Academy. Everything he had ever known was gone.
“Sometimes, Adair Stratton, we find ourselves at a crossroads, unsure of which direction to take. I see your heart and the fracture through it. Of the fear, and hate, and desire. The world is spinning out of control, and it is time to find your purpose. Look closer.”
The scene changed, the ashes clearing, he bla
nched as he realized he was looking at himself as a man. A city made up of stone and light bustled around him as people passed him radiating kindness and respect bowing their heads as they passed him their murmurs igniting his heart. “My King.”
The world before him exploded, showing a flourishing, rich place filled with discipline and trust. Because of him. For him. He hungrily drank every detail in, before it faded into an inky blackness once more.
He panted in the darkness, whispering, “Is this true?”
“This world can be yours and more if you want to accept your fate. Claim what is yours, Adair. The Faes have hidden us out of fear of power. Your parents are blinded by rage. But you, you are different from them all.”
The crystals flared back to life. He stared down at his hands, the inky swirls staining his skin. Tainted by darkness. He curled his fingers, clenching them into tights fists as he whispered, “What would you have me do?”
“For a price, you will have access to unlimited power unseen by this world. There will be forces working against you if you choose this, but together, we will be unstoppable.” Scrambling back, he watched the water begin to rise, forming the outline of a man. “I have been locked away for centuries, waiting for the right person to come along. My wielders sealed me in this book, having wanted it to be a poison for this world, wanting to destroy it. They are using all the forces they can raise to work against me. I wish to purge this world, not destroy it. Cleanse it and then allow it to flourish. For true magic to rise again.”
Renegade: A Young Adult Dystopian Page 15