Fire {Elements of Power 1}

Chapter Seven: Roxy

Roxy:

I was up bright and early the next day, eager to get Vincent's last test over and done with. I woke up with a long, hot shower, using the time to think about the day ahead and the impending visit, which I was becoming more and more curious about. When I got out, I focused on slowly heating up my body to evaporate off all of the water; drying my hair with care, so that it didn't become a complete mess.

I watched my reflection in the full-wall-length mirror of my room while I ran the brush through it. The red streaks - a mark of my status as a Protector - were far more prominent than they had been when I had first arrived at the camp. Back then, my hair had been chocolate brown, with only a few flashes of red running through it. It would never completely change, but there was now more red than brown. It made me look bold and dangerous; important.

When my hair was dry I threw on some denim shorts, a black tank top and some big black boots. I wasn't really sure what Vincent and I were doing today, but the weather in the Helian Realm was always warm.

Vincent was leaning against the side of the house when I got outside, playing with a small ball of fire in his fingers, closing his hand to starve the flames of oxygen and then opening it up again to let it flare. "You're late," he said, without even looking up at me.

"Hardly. Two minutes at most - you can't have been waiting here very long," I replied, walking over to him. "Where are we going today, anyway?"

"Ah, you'll have to wait and see." He raised his eyes to meet mine, the grin Avery was so crazy about spreading across his face.

We got on his bike and set off along the road, riding in silence until we reached a large, derelict house. It looked as though something had drained all of the life from the place years ago. The brick work was a dull, deathly grey; more fitting for an Arcan tomb than a house in the Helian Realm. The faint cobwebs of long-dead ivy vines wound their way across the walls, enclosing the smudged, broken windows in its spindling trap. It had even crept across the tall, black door at the front of the house, betraying its neglect.

"Here we are." Vincent looked ahead, his face set. The glint is his eyes betrayed his amusement.

"Here? Are you sure? It doesn't look like anyone's been in this house since the turn of the century - well no one who's alive, anyway."

"This, Roxy, is the house of Dr Jacob Scott," Vincent said with a flourish.

I paused for a second. Was he kidding? "That writer you're obsessed with?"

"The greatest historian who ever lived," he corrected. "He's written on the most important events of our life: from the Border Wars to the-"

"-Brizan Occupation, yeah I know who he is Vincent, but why are we here?"

"Dr Scott has become a recluse since the death of his late wife and rarely receives visitors. You are going to talk your way into his home and get him to treat us like honoured guests - without telling him who you really are. Your final test is on Control."

Control was a Helian Protector's most deadly power. It gave us dominance over any other living person, with the exception of other Protectors or members of the Royal family, which was forbidden by the highest Helian laws. It was a power that we had kept secret from all of the other Realms, making it our greatest weapon.

It was extremely difficult to get right though and I had been struggling with it since I first arrived at the camp. The problem was that it wasn't something I needed on a daily basis. I was already a princess, all I had to do was look mildly annoyed and everyone did what I wanted. I rarely even needed to raise my voice anymore, people were so afraid of me. This made practicing Control pretty tough, as everyone did what I wanted without me having to try. Control was all about effort: getting the right tone of voice and wording.