In the freezing and shivering night, a shadow wandered between the woods before entering Oxyn, a vast community of powerful witches built from its heroic ancestors who managed to control the fire element.
Although magnificently fragile, Novah was th...
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An outstanding, perfectly symmetric, eye dropping smile.
Colin Queen and his breathtaking aura enveloped the room, his cocky, snake emerald eyes catching the sight of dancing flames, while his right hand continuously moved from side to side in circles, a satisfied, pleased grin plastered on his dry lips as he clashed his tongue with certainty of dominance and vigor.
The white-haired figure had been placed, much to his despise, on the same training spot as Myra and Novah, the four enclosed blank walls forming a square, in its center three small tables were each ornamented with black colored towels, burning candles on silver candlesticks, tiny round bowls of clean water and vases covered with grain and soil - invertedly, the room had been purposely decorated for exercise purposes, the several training mats on floor placed in order in front of each table resembled it. The room had no windows and no mirrors, but there was complete light inside it.
Novah had been the last one to enter the room and take a hold of the tensing scenario, her lips opening and pouting in sweet nervous movements while she tensed by the glass door, slowly taking her shoes off, and adjusting the zip half placket, black nylon unitard which covered her whole silhouette and legs.
Those were the typical as well as identical costumes for the feminine gender in the Academy, a black jacket built like a corset with a series of harness-style straps generally was another piece to match the unitards, complemented by a pair of combat leather knee high boots.
Nevertheless, Novah had added a peculiar four-finger shooting glove to the outfit, which attached her left wrist, leading the combating part of her personality to stand out through the bold significance of the bare material.
She reached for the last bootlace on her left shoe, although her attentive orbs were gazing at the familiar sharp face of Colin, who had been standing tall near the farthest table of the entrance, his chin slightly titled upwards, the long black eyelashes coldly watching his own fingers moving in order to expand the tiny fire from one of the candles and make it reach his hand. Then it was shown again, his pretentious conceited grin catching Novah's camp of sight once more.
"What a showoff,"
Myra hissed, sharply but quickly put, near the second table, her glamorous pretentious glare hoovering over Colin's smug expressions as his flames grew wider and taller beneath her sight, the attention of hers directly interacting with his presence.
A venomous, smug remark followed, as he looked over to her from where he was standing, a few feet away inside the tryout salon. The flames coming to an end as he did it out of his impatience.
"Wouldn't you love to try to beat me on my Fire Release?",
he hinted with coldness, no hint of sympathy in his voice but no sign of preoccupation either, and so the silent duel of challenging, daring stares had started between the two, stubbornness lifting the room up.
