The Spirit Academy

Chapter 10 - Drowned

Dahlia

The pale crescent moon shone like a silver claw in the night sky. The moon was a faint glow from behind the dark clouds, and the cold wind stung Dahlia's fingers. The air was filled with dread. The flames crackled, and licked the wood.

They set up camp Sunday night where the team would have met up, at noon. It was getting dark now. Everyone would have already reached school. The grass underneath her was wet and she was cold even though she lay close to the fire.

Orange. Red. Blue. Black. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Destruction. Ravaging. Flames. Fire. Fire.

The path of destruction. It turned the luscious leaves into ashes. It turned the beautiful trees into burning logs like fallen soldiers. It turned the life-saving air into lung-clogging smoke. It was everywhere and there was no escaping it.

But I ran. I still ran. Past the orange. Past the red. Past the blue. Trees are falling behind me. Smoke is everywhere. But still I run.

A scream.

I turn. It's grandma. The fire is swallowing her. I run for her. I run. I run. I run.

But. It's too late. It's always too late. And all I'm left with is ashes.

Dahlia screamed and sat up. Her chest felt tight and her cheeks were damp. She was shivering. It was morning now, both Terre and Betha were sitting up looking at Dahlia with concern. Dahlia pursed her lips and shook her head. She waited a moment before scrambling to her feet.

"Let's go, we should reach in a couple of hours," Betha said softly.

"I need food." Terre announced, Betha looked at her and narrowed her eyes.  

She turned to Dahlia, "There's a river nearby, we can fish."

"Come on Milo." Dahlia said, and Milo perked up. 

Dahlia picked up a stick along the way. It was about an inch wide and half a metre long. She used some vine to tie one of her daggers to the stick.

They found the river. It was about ten metres wide, but the current was strong, and the rocks were slippery. Dahlia rolled up her pants and stepped into the water. The water was freezing, it only reached up to her knees, but she felt her feet going numb. She tried to look for any dark shapes, but she couldn't see much.

"I'm going on that rock!" She yelled, but she wasn't sure if anyone heard her.

She walked through the water and climbed onto the rock. The water was crashing against it. She saw a fish, she held her spear up above it but before she could bring it down, it slipped. Her ankle twisted under her and she landed face-first into the water. She screamed. But she wasn't sure if her voice was heard over the crash of the waves. She waved her hands and tried to plant her feet in the ground, but the current was too strong.

She was being swept away.

Guthrie

Guthrie awoke. The sense of air was overwhelming, around her, in her, everywhere. It was beating, vibrant and urgent, restless. Something was wrong. Monday morning. Guthrie's roommate, Sefarina, was out. She pulled back the curtains and opened the window. The air rushed in and she felt much better.

"Guthrie." Came a soft voice.

Guthrie turned to see Mishal standing at the door. Her eyes were dull, and they looked tired, her shoulders were drooped, and her arms were crossed almost defensively over her chest.