“No!”
The world exploded into ice. The stairs, the courtyard, the blade in Cesan’s hands. Bresslin charged toward them as the sword shattered, forcing Cesan to turn his attention to her. Flickering anguish crossed his face as he took in his wife, spears of ice forming in her palms.
“Cesan, leave. Now.”
He paused, sweat dripping off him, and he whispered, “Bresslin. Come with me. You don’t have to do this. Don’t make me choose.”
Snarling, she stalked up to him, not pausing as she slapped his face, ice slicing his skin. Glistening ruby droplets streaked his face, and she roared, “How do you like it? How long have you been doing this? He is our son, Cesan. Get. Out. Now.” Each word she threw at him like a punch, growling and fierce.
“Bresslin, wait.”
Snapping her hands down, a wall of ice exploded from her, forcing Cesan to stagger back. The ice was thick, a thousand colors shimmering in it as the sun sliced through between them. For a second they just stared at each other, unsaid things passing, both of their chests heaving. Bresslin growled as she watched Cesan turn his back on them, snapping orders to his group. Adair watched as if in a trance as two seniors cut the horses Tadeas’s group had brought, and they mounted them. Cesan hauled himself up on the stallion’s back, twisting to stare at them all. His gaze landed on him last as he roared, “You will all regret this!”
Then with thundering hooves, they slowly disappeared, leaving them with his ringing threat and their broken hearts.
The tears slid down her face as Bresslin snapped her fingers, the ice cracking into a thousand tiny shards, suspended in the air like crystals. She stared at her work before turning her back. The ice melted and dissipated into droplets of water, sloshing onto the ground behind her. “Adair, I’m here. I’m here.” Her hushed murmurs broke him even further. One word burned in his mind, etching itself there permanently. Why? “Adair, you have to stand for me.”
He looked up to his mother’s face, her kind eyes, soft features. She was strong, and he never once doubted that she wasn’t good. But what was he? Was there any trace of her in him?
Shakily, he stood. His already bruised body making each movement drawn out and painful. Roque still stood on the steps, staring at where Cesan had been as if willing his best friend back. At their movement, Roque snapped his attention to them, and narrowing his eyes, said, “Bresslin, you need to follow him now. Take a group with you, but do not let him accomplish what he wants to do.”
“And exactly what is that?”
Adair was surprised at how steady his voice was, and Roque sneered, taking the steps two at a time. “Your father, Stratton, is planning on starting another war. By preying on desolates and people from the Shattered Isles until I step down from accepting my terms as King of Kiero.”
No.
Roque didn’t stop until he was face to face with Adair, his breath hot against his skin. “He is doing what he knows will hurt most. It’s what my father would have done.”
Bresslin stepped in between them. “Roque, enough. It’s not Adair’s fault.”
Roque stared at him, until wrenching his gaze away sighing. “You’re right. Bresslin. You have an hour to get ready. Nei, you will go as well. Can we prepare the school in time?”
They all snapped into action at his commands. Bresslin shooting him an apologetic glance before she whisked herself away, jogging toward Nei. Tadeas gave Roque a sad nod, and anger reared its ugly head within him as he took in the scene. They were preparing for war; in a single moment Cesan had ripped everything away.
Grinding his teeth, Adair forced himself to move, following the group back into the Academy. Everything was displaced: the brilliant warmth of the sun, the peacefulness of the forest sprawling behind the Academy. A dark foreboding unravelled within Adair, the pit in his stomach consuming him. Don’t you want more? Whispers cut through the pain, wrapping around him, and Adair shook his head, pushing himself back into the Academy and to a healer. No one stopped to double-check if the shadow of a boy was okay. No one stopped to make sure he was holding himself together. And like thin ice, a crack split through Adair, reluctant and then all consuming. Until there was nothing whole left.
5
Brokk
Hope was a dangerous thing. It could consume every dream and make them take flight, if you allowed. Those wild daydreams that became a tangible reality in one’s heart and mind. Or it could incinerate everything you thought you knew, burning you down to your core, leaving you raw and exposed for the world.
As Brokk walked down the hallway, looking for Memphis, his world in a split second was ripped apart. The hallways were quiet, which should have been his first sign that something was deeply off. Class had just ended for the afternoon, and like every other day, his blood was boiling after seeing Iasan. His teacher had become predatory toward him, trying to push him to his edge but always in ways only noticed to him now, putting on the persona for the other teachers. Iasan was only trying to ensure a bright future, after all.
By grooming him into a lethal weapon that would kill on command. Internally groaning, Brokk was hoping for the blissful distraction that the hallways of the Academy always provided. His fellow classmates always having a flair for the dramatics, it was guaranteed he would be swept away in their display, along with his thoughts. Instead, his footsteps echoed as he continued, dread pooling in his stomach, making it churn. Turning the corner, he was about to stop and go
