Venom

12: The Darkest Wishing Well

"Leave a clue."  Red greeted my sight for a moment before I felt his hand clamp around my ankle and squeeze, malicious intent in his grip.

"Very good. Dismissed." There was a collected moment of tension before everyone let out a breath. Marion narrowed his black eyes for a moment before tossing my leg away. I dropped my head with a grunt and laid on the ground.

My head, body, and soul ached, just trying to catch my breath felt like it required too much effort. There was a nasty sensation starting on the right side of my face, in between a sting and throb.

"You have terrible luck Debrouhs." A giddy voice called out to me, a moment later a shadow leaned over me. "How do you always manage to get paired up with Marion?"

Diane smiled down at me with sparkling brown eyes, short black hair covered in a fine layer of dust, but other than that it seemed as if she were the less injured party. Unlike myself. As usual, she wore her undershirt rather than the practice shirt we were told to wear, her forearms were a shade closer to the sun then the pale skin that poked out from under her collarbone.

"Luck." I reached out to take hold of the calloused hand she held out. Once on my feet I slumped over and put my hands on my knees to feel out my injuries. Blood trickled from down my cheek, a droplet hitting the dust-covered ground. It looked like another visit to the healing ward. 

"If you had any luck you wouldn't be here." She huffed. "If you were smart you wouldn't have got caught and him you wouldn't have irked him."  I lifted my head and glared at her. She gave me a cheeky smile.

"We both know I've done nothing-" I started.

"But take attention away from him." With a roll of her eyes, she cut me off, using her staff as a cane she leaned against it. "Him and anyone who wants to go into house five."

"He can have it if he wants it," I mumbled, straightening myself out and walking past her. All around us, people remained on the ground like I had or leaned against the old crumbling walls of the training arena. "I would gratefully give it to him."

Making quick I walked over to the water and splashed some on my face and quickly washed my hands. Shaking my head I felt my short curls bounce around, pink water fell down my shirt and onto the ground. This would have to do for the moment. Resisting the urge to run my fingers through my hair now that it was wet was hard, but knowing what it would look like once it dried made it a bit easier.

"Which is why he enjoys these public beatings." She added helpfully. Following behind me we made our way to the food hall. Everyone was tired enough to drag their feet but fast enough to shove and push to the front. I caught plenty of elbows. Not all accidental.

It was a plane enough building for us filled with the basic needs for us, multiple tables and benches, on the far left wall there was a line up of provided food and plating along with the cursed utensils that returned any damaged if used for anything other than eating. The walls were made of sand-colored bricks, the ceiling monumentally high, candle lighting running down the walls. There were two doors and four watchers spread throughout.

"I've nothing to say on that matter."  Lining up behind someone I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at the sweaty back in front of me, dust yellow shirt clinging to a broad back.

We all wore the same brown pants and old creme boots that were so filthy they matched our pants. The men received yellow shirts that would turn paler throughout use, while the women received long scratchy shirts one color away from being called a hay sack. It was the magic uniform color, that distinguished us. The Crime Casters. Or as I liked to say, the 'Council Dolls'. None of us here had a say on what we did for the day. We had all lost that right and only those who showed promise, could reclaim what they had lost.