COBALT: The Sovereign's Stratagem (Book Two)

Chapter 6: The Hunters (Part 2/4)

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Have a little something to soothe that anxious feeling that something is quickly creeping up on you.

Like the fact that it's the last week of summer.

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          Káel took the walk of shame, an elite on either side of him as he was paraded past the few students that hadn't turned in to their dorms for the night. He only recognised one face in his journey, Alestra, completely unsurprised by the sight as she gave him a small wave.

          He didn't know which emotion deserved the spotlight. Worry gnawed at how the entire situation could be painted into any picture the Council pleased, panic grabbed for the closest way out, and anger festered at the thing that had caused all of this. He hissed out a sigh as Cursimian twitched under the dalem cuffs that had been slapped on him.

          None of this would have happened if that ancient weapon had chosen someone else.

          He felt one of the elites nudge his back, obediently walking into an empty meeting room as the door locked behind him. The moment of solitude was his chance. He ripped up his sleeve and glared at Cursimian. "Don't you ever do that again."

          Stella perched on his shoulder. "He says you are a coward."

          "A coward?" Káel scoffed, grabbing a quill off the table to try at jamming it's metal nub under Cursimian for leverage. "You know what? I didn't sign up for this." He loosed a sigh as the quill snapped in half. "Get off my arm. I'm not your master, go find an unstable serial killer to serve or something!" 

          A spark bit Káel's nose, the broken quill flying from his fingers as he rubbed away the nipping pain. 

          "He claims to have been following your orders," Stella replied, 

          "Ohh no- no no. Hell no. None of that screamed my consent," Káel snapped, trying to pull the bracer off his arm as the metal tightened. "Stella, when did I say Cursimian, please threaten to cut Mr. Greine to ribbons? Or even better, Cursimian, please choke this random student to death!?" 

          "He says that the thought was clear in your mind."

          "Well I think you're stupid, and that you should get off my arm," Káel said, victory drawing his lips into a disappointed smile when Cursimian didn't budge. "Point proven. Next stop, Council storage unit for bipolar possessed weaponry!"

          The door cracked open, Ariabella peeking in with a distinct shade of disappointment to her face. Káel didn't know if it was just the lighting on her sharp cheeks, but the scowl she wore was a little harsher than usual. "Keep your voice down, the walls are not soundproof."

          Káel raised his open palms. "Look. Before you say anything-"

          "Before you say anything," Ariabella cut in, allowing the door to slam itself shut as she claimed her seat with a navy blue coat. "Wait for Skyfell. Take a seat and collect yourself." 

          Káel complied with the request, sitting himself across from Ariabella to take a few deep breaths. He was relieved that the first person in the room other than him wasn't Mrs. Floyd, but still, he was dreading every syllable that would fly out of Skyfell's mouth.

          Ariabella toyed with her white gloves, finally pulling them off to rest them on her lap as she soaked in the silence. "His majesty Elisious is pleased with your performance in the school teams and tournament."