The Art of Imagination

Chapter 6

Silence was the harbinger of danger, especially at a time like this.

Standing atop of what used to Cobalt Tower, the tall figure kept his balance effortlessly. Beneath and all around him lay piles of rubble, ash and flames. Through the silence came a round of deafening explosions, some faraway and some much too close for comfort. The noise rang in his ears, a terrible reminder of the feud that raged on between the three nations.

His fine black hair stood on end, prickling the nape of his neck. It was a pointless war and it seemed as though the country’s chances were decreasing with every minute that passed by.

From above, a gargantuan silver aircraft released an array of long black pellets that plummeted towards the remnants of the city. Their sheer size grew rapidly as they fell. Knuckles cracking, he lifted two hands to the skies and clenched them into tight fists. Three of the many black missiles burst into flames, orange flowers blooming within a plume of smoke in the middle of the sky.

And then he jumped.

The air rushed past him but with a single image flashing before his eyes, a burst of air cushioned his fall, letting his feet land softly on the ground.

Boom! came a thunderous blast not so far away. He felt the impact of the attack shake the ground, flinging bits of debris into the air. The ground shook several more times as more bombs landed in the area. Conjuring up an orb of protection, the wave of bombs sent a gust of wind bursting into his hair but none of the flying wreckage touched him.

Suddenly, a screech pierced the air, causing his head to snap up in alarm. Eyes flashing dangerously, he ran in one clear direction, drawing upon his abilities to shield himself from the flames. The heat burned against his skin but did not scald him.

Seven large beasts, the size of houses came rearing up towards him. Their vicious snouts were wide open, snarling savagely and saliva dripping from their teeth. Drakkans.

A sly smirk tugged at his lips. There was only one way to fight fire-breathing drakkans. His hands burst into flames, arms suddenly engulfed in orange. Picking up his pace, he threw his hands forward, a jet of fire exploding across the ground.

With a terrifying roar at the top of their lungs, the drakkans charged forward at the first attack, leaping over the wall of flames.

And he was more than ready for them.         

“Ingrid, wake up.”

A groan slipped from between her lips. She turned over, digging her head beneath the pillow. Why were the covers so rough? Why had the mattress suddenly grown hard and stiff?

“Ingrid, if you want breakfast, you need to wake up.”

“Beatrice, what did I tell you about my mornings?” Ingrid mumbled, her voice taking on a whiny tone.

There was a soft laugh that met her ears. “Beatrice? You must be mistaking me for somebody else. My name is Amelia, remember?”

“Amelia,” Ingrid muttered, dragging herself from beneath her covers and rubbed her eyes vigorously. When she opened her eyes, she blinked. “Amelia Dawson. Roommate. Academy.” Her eyes bulged. “Oh my goodness!”

Ingrid scrambled out of bed, brushing her wrinkled nightgown and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes entirely. “I’m so sorry. I don’t usually sleep in.”

“You must have had a long night travelling here,” Amelia guessed sympathetically. “Be down at the dining hall in fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you there.” Well this was sudden.