"The Void Wears A Crown Of Forget-Me-Nots"

Chapter 5: Great Job, Leave All Of The Children Alone With Sharp Objects.

The opening to the training room came up, and the doors- The same ones he was dragged through by Xyia two years ago,- were cracked open. Xelqua moved forward with the shadows and soundlessly open the door and walked into the dark mimicry of the real world.

Xelqua looked out at the static room and wondered if this was what the overworld would have looked like. With the still plastic grass casting shadows across each other, weaving into endless shades of green, to the leaves of the fake trees, which looked more like cobwebs when they weren't moving in the breeze.

Closing his eyes, the teen breathed in the stale air and listened to the unsettling quiet that engulfed the room.

The silence set deep in his bones. It was familiar, and it was dangerous.

Out of the corner of Xelqua's eyes, he saw a flash of white fur and red eyes.

The teen whipped around to face the red-eyed creature, hoping to the darkest bits of the forest that it was only Ray, only to find that there was nothing there.

He stared for a long moment. 'Did I just imagine it? But it looks so... so real.'

Xelqua scowled and dismissed the thought of the rabbit from his mind.

'I must just be tired,'

He looked around the room, the silver gleam of the throwing knives caught his eye. Slowly, almost warily, Xelqua smiled and stepped forward. He grabbed one of the knives and flinched as they loudly clanged together. The sound echoed through the still room as the kid's eyes went wide.

Frozen in place, Xelqua remembered the flash of white fur and frantically looked around the room. But nothing was there. No movement nor breathing. Only him and the echoing silents of the void.

The golden-haired teen blinked, a red rushing into his much more healthy-looking cheeks. He chewed his lip and looked back down at the throwing knives, his cheeks only getting redder.

Hesitantly, he reached out and set a sound canceling spell around the throwing knives.

The teen was beyond embarrassed, but still, he prevailed. Xelqua grabbed a set of three throwing knives and walked over to the red-painted target tree.

Xelqua grabbed a knife and felt its weight in his hand, then he looked at the target, and in a moment, his knife struck true without a sound. Well, it didn't hit exactly where he was aiming, but it hit close enough.

He picked out a second knife, pulled back his arm, and took aim, then flung the knife forward. It hit the second ring of the target.

He threw the third and hit his mark dead on.

Xelqua smiled, before gathering the knives and putting them back.

He unraveled the spell on the knives and turned to leave- then he proceeded to trip on his own feet and fall face first. Xelqua tried not to cry out when he felt a few cuts and a gash on his back rip back open.

Fuck.

...

Taking a deep breath, Xelqua leaned forward and tried to ignore the stinging in his back.

The young teen was sitting in Zera's unused bed, blood-soaked medical gauze duck tape to his back. Several small cuts, bruises, and old white scars littered his back and forearms. They weren't particularly deep or bad, but there were sure as hell a lot of them.

Most of his scars were from when he couldn't run fast enough and got a whip into the back, but a few of them were from sparring.

The room around him was dark, but warm and familiar. Xelqua's cloak was haphazardly thrown into his still-open wardrobe, and the role of duck tape and gauze was still held in Xelqua's blood-covered hands.