“Yes.” He said simply, choosing to ignore her sardonic rant, leaving her speechless at his matter of fact tone. “Yes – you will, I’m going to teach you how.”
Her indignant bubble burst, leaving her deflated. It was impossible arguing against such blind confidence. She dropped her head into her hands.
“Hey.” Alex said lightly. When she refused to look up, he slid his fingers gently below her chin and lifted her head, forcing her to meet his eyes.
He pointed at himself. “Remember – skillful. And by the time you go back, you’re going to be too.”
She tried to smile, but failed miserably. The smile dropped off Alex’s face, replaced by concern.
“You still have a choice Allyra.” He said gently. There was something about the way he said her name – lilting and captivating, making her stomach clench unexpectedly. She sat up a little straighter and gathered herself.
“You can still choose not to embrace the Gift.” He continued, “You don’t owe me anything. Whatever you choose – trust that I’ll still do everything in my power to protect you.”
He was staring at her, with eyes stark with honesty. “Everything.” He repeated, emphasizing his point.
And she believed him, though unable to fully comprehend why he would risk so much for her.
“I’ll protect you until you go through the Gate. But what happens after that is entirely up to you. You can hope to convince the Council to let you go. Convince them that it was all a mistake and perhaps they will. Or, you can fight; take control of your life. And maybe, just maybe, get an opportunity to do something that really matters – not just to your own life, but to the lives of others.”
There was something painfully earnest about him, filled with idealistic hope that she’d only ever seen in a child. This was important to him, in ways he hadn’t fully explained yet, but suddenly and unexpectedly she realized it didn’t matter. It was enough that it mattered to him.
She would do it for him, to show her gratitude for everything he’d already done and still promised to do. It was something – an action, to deliver a sentiment she couldn’t quite find the words for.
“You’ll teach me?” She asked tentatively.
He smiled at her, warm and confident. “Yes.”
He got up and dusted himself off, then offered a hand to her. She allowed him to pull her to her feet, cringing as pain shot down her back. He raised his hand to her hair and gently extracted a wayward pebble. He collected it by brushing his long fingers down the strands of her hair – it was a strangely tender gesture, sending unexpected shivers dancing down her spine like tiny bursts of electricity. Their eyes locked together and the intimacy of the moment swept over her, sending her stumbling backwards.
His hand dropped back to his side and a flash of something – longing, embarrassment, chagrin – washed over his face, too quickly for her to read.
“We should go.” He said, handing her the stick. “Tomorrow we start with sword training.”
Chapter 13 – Jamie
Rediscovering his skill wasn’t nearly as painstaking as Jamie had initially feared. It was like riding a bicycle – just a matter of stretching out unused muscles and dusting off dark corners of his mind. But there was no hiding the fact that there was a lot of catching up to do. The other participants had a year of training under their belts and he was trying to cram it all into a month.
There were a variety of strategies taken by the various participants. Some tried to hide their skill. Like poker players holding their cards close, they were unwilling to show all their tricks until the actual Trials. Others flaunted their power, perhaps hoping to intimidate their competitors.
Jason was part of the latter group. Marcus’ assistant was obnoxious in his showy displays, which only made Jamie dislike him more.
Jamie fell somewhere in the middle. He had no qualms about hiding whatever skill or power he possessed – he needed all the practice time he could get. Even better if the other participants took note – he preferred their attention focused on him rather than Allyra.
He was a little late to the Combat Arena for afternoon practice as he’d been visiting Allyra. Despite saying the opposite to anyone that asked, he was frustrated by the lack of change in her condition. He couldn’t quite let go of the hope that she would just magically wake up.
Jamie walked to the southern end of the Arena, to a wellspring of Fire. The flame burned infinitely, fed by nothing more than the inherent power residing within the Arena. There were similar wells for the other three elements, though the one for Air was for show only, filled with seemingly nothing at all. The Air and Earth elements had the advantage of being much more readily available.
The four wellsprings were present for the Gifted to call on, they also served as a reminder that the Gifted were above all – human. They had to adhere to the same laws as any other.
Jamie was no scientist, and he couldn’t quite recall the name of the law that governed the changes in energy. Allyra would’ve probably rolled her eyes at him and supplied the answer. But he understood it nonetheless – simply that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only transformed from one form to another. For him, it meant that it cost him less to reshape an existing flame than to actually gather enough energy to form the flame itself.
Jamie called the flame in the wellspring, effortlessly bringing the flickering Fire into his hand. He remembered the first time he’d ever done it, under the watchful eye of his mother – the initial fear he’d felt, expecting the burning lick of heat against his skin and the glow of wonder when it never arrived.
Focusing his mind on the flame in his palm, Jamie formed it into a sphere – a twisting,
