Hey guys! The drawing to the side is the official Damen tattoo and it is not changing! Please ignore all the background drawings I tried erasing, but I drew it! Hope you enjoy! Thank you for being so patient! When I last uploaded, you guys got me up to #24 in Fantasy and #36 in Action!! That is the highest it has ever been!! Thank you guys so much!! I love you all!!
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Chapter Eleven
Warrior Stings
“Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.” – C.G. Jung
I walked down the hallway on my first day of sixth grade, on my way to first period, when I saw some rather rotund kids crowding around a smaller one.
“You the new kid?” one of the kids said in an abrupt, rude voice.
“Y-yeah,” said the girl in the middle. I couldn’t make out her face because of the kids surrounding her,
“What’s your power?” the same kid asked, making me guess she was the leader of the group.
“I-I have to get to class,” she said, trying to push past them, but they pushed her back into the little circle.
“Why won’t you tell us?” the leader asked, “There are other ways I can get the answer,” she said, patting her chubby hand that was in a tight ball.
When the other girl continued to remain silent, she pulled her fist back, preparing to punch the girl. I started to run towards them when all of a sudden, the chubby girl’s arm stopped midair. She looked confused. Everybody looked confused. There was nothing but air in front of her fist. She visibly struggled to move her fist, but to no avail did it move. Then suddenly, it came back to punch her in the nose and a figure materialized. It was the girl getting bullied and she had a huge smirk on her face.
“Now do you understand why I didn’t tell you?” her one gray eye visible through the brown curtain of hair ablaze with triumphant glory.
The big girl nodded and half ran away with her posse.
The brunette then looked at me and I smiled. “Hi, I’m Arella.”
“Ophelia,” she greeted, smiling back.
“Do you need any help finding your classes?”
I grinned at the memory as I looked at the framed picture of Ophelia and me in the sixth grade, hung on the wall of Damen and my apartment.
I’d been waiting anxiously for our next “practice” to start with Coach, and me trying to avert the inevitable had turned into a stroll down memory lane as I looked at the framed pictures in the living room. It was an important one because we were going to start fighting skilled warriors. They’d been giving us tips and teaching us technique for the past few weeks, but today was the day we were tested on the amount of knowledge we’d retained and I wasn’t quite sure if I was ready. I felt ready, but there was a significant burden on my shoulders. It was the burden of not knowing if I was ready to be one of The Destined, one of only four people chosen by the gods themselves to lead this island, our home, out of hardships and to be the heroes that won. It was nerve wracking. What if there had been a mistake? What if I wasn’t actually meant to be one of them? What if I wasn’t from the legacy?
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, unclenching my fists. If I wanted to amount to anything, I had to stop doubting myself because that would be the biggest hindrance to my performance. The possibility that the gods had messed up was very, well, ungodly. I just had to accept my responsibility and know that if I had been chosen, it meant that there was something about me that was different.
Deciding to take my mind off of it, I continued on my trek of the living room and came across a picture I hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t mine and I remembered the day I tried forcing Damen to put even a single picture of his up somewhere, but he’d remained adamant not to, so he must’ve put this one while I wasn’t looking. I picked it up and held it softly. The purple frame was simple but somehow reminded me of something a child would choose and the chipped wood and dulled edges told me that this had been with Damen since he was very little. The picture wasn’t of him, I wouldn’t have expected it to be. It was a picture of the woman from my vision yesterday, his mother, but the face wasn’t the same. She was much younger, much more carefree and open to life. Her dark hair was braided with a few wisps out and she had a grin the size of half her face. I held the frame tightly now, the way I could see Damen holding it and my heart squeezed for his pain, wanting to be someone he could share it with, but knowing that that time wouldn’t come anytime soon.
I stared at her, not being able to look away, not being able to understand why she couldn’t take Damen with her. I knew for a fact that she had wanted to take him with every fiber in her every bone, but something had stopped her from doing so, and I wanted to know what it was. I tried thinking about how much I wanted to know what propelled her to take all the decisions she didn’t want to, knowing how it had worked before, like my visions now came on command almost.
After staring at the picture for almost five minutes, trying to will myself to have a vision, I gave up. Sighing, I put the frame back down where I found it and turned away when I fell to the ground randomly. The same feeling came but this time it was different. I didn’t feel sweaty or shaky; I felt more in control of my body than I ever had before during a vision. The same feeling of disengaging did come but it all felt better now. Before, I felt like I’d been thrust into a spaceship that was already on autopilot, leading to an unknown destination, but now, I felt like I controlled this ship.
I closed my eyes and when I opened them, I was sitting in a living room, but it wasn’t mine. It was Mrs. Moon’s living room. She was sitting with her hands interlaced on her knees and posture so straight it looked painful. Her eyes held fear. “Why are you here?” she asked, her voice strong despite her obvious feelings. I couldn’t detect the way a person felt in visions, which sucked, but being able to control the feelings had made me really good at being able to tell how they felt by small mannerisms, like the way her foot scraped against the carpet every few seconds.
“We’ve recently gotten some information that you were going to take your son away from here?” A cool, collected voice replied and I didn’t even have to look over to know who it was. Jim Clowd. When I turned my head, I was greeted by his vibrant orange eyes and the bright Farfalla pinned to his suit.
“And why is that any of your business?” Mrs. Moon’s fear had been replaced with annoyance, as she scraped the sofa with her fingernail lightly.
“You see, Mrs. Ann Moon, your son is going to be a very important young man in the future,” he smiled at Mrs. Moon, “so we need him to stay here so we can monitor him.”
“And let his father kill him?” she was furious now and no mannerisms were needed for that tidbit of truth.
“Oh, we both know that’s not his real father, which explains the rage he has for the two of you,” Jim Clowd’s smile never broke. He never hesitated to point out the truth, and it was usually blatantly.
Mrs. Moon quietly sucked some breath in, obviously surprised someone like Jim Clowd knew about her family secrets. She decided not to address the statement. “In what way is Damen going to be important?” she inquired.
“Have you ever heard of The Destined?” he asked and when she nodded, he continued, “We have reason to believe your son might be one of the new generation of chosen ones.”
She gasped, surprised and proud that her son might be one, before they turned to confusion. “If he might be so important, why don’t you take him with you? And keep him safe?”
“He is of ten other boys that might be one of The Destined. When the time comes, in a year, we will come to take him and put him, along with the nine others, in a training group at Essure University.”
“And you’ll make sure nothing happens to him?” Her eyes pleaded, her wrinkles deepening around her eyes.
Jim Clowd smiled reassuringly as he reached over to pat her hand, “I promise.”
She sighed, defeated, knowing she would have to leave her son behind and trust the council leader to take care of him.
As Jim Clowd was on his way out, he stopped at the doorframe, and looked back, “I suggest you move somewhere close and small so he can find you someday. Somewhere like Città di Mare,” he said lightly, giving her an idea but letting her have the full decision.
She smiled and nodded.
And then I heard quiet ticking, the sound of the alarm on my watch go off. I looked down, seeing that it read 8:00 a.m., time for training.
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“No, don’t punch like that,” the blonde warrior told me, her blue eyes strict but kind, “See how your chest is open? It gives the opponent the satisfaction of striking you in your gut, chest, or jaw.” I nodded and corrected my left arm to guard while I punched with my right, a bad habit of mine. “Next time you do that, you’re doing fifty pushups, and each time after will result in an added seventy. Understood?” Oh yes I understood. No way in hell did I want to do that many pushups! “Let’s start over then.”
I stepped back on the foam mat, my feet sinking in a little. Positioning my arms over my chest as guards, I balled my fists and stared at her, my opponent, in this scenario. She was my personal warrior trainer and she’d helped me build up from what I knew. She said just watching my opponent could provide enough to win the battle. I noticed how she rotated her balled fist, as if she was going to punch me with it, but it looked to be too obvious of a hint so my eyes quickly shot to her legs and that short second was all I needed. The way her foot came off the floor a little bit more than the other as she bounced was indicator enough to the fact that she was going to throw a kick my way, and when I saw her try to roundhouse me in the head, I was ready to stop it with my right forearm and punch her in the gut with my left. But of course she caught my punch with her right arm before it made impact, and I was quick to catch her leg with my right arm and make her fall to the ground. I pinned her, but for only a few seconds before she flipped us around and placed her right arm over my neck forcefully and holding the rest of my body down with hers. I tried wriggling to get free and prolong the fight, but to no avail could I get out of her grip.
“I’m impressed! You lasted a few more minutes in this fight than you did the last one!” she exclaimed happily as she got off.
I laughed and winked at her, “All thanks to you, Trix!”
She was wiping the beads of sweat on her forehead off with a white hand towel when she looked up and said, “Hey, the next time you’re here, you’re going to have a different trainer. Crate.” When she saw my face drop into a slight frown, she continued, consoling me, “He’s a tough nut and mean, but he’s amazing. If anybody can get you ready for what’s out there, it’s him. He’s been out there, and he’s had to deal with them.”
I smiled, excited to be engaging myself with somebody who’s had experience actually fighting someone from the Outside Realm, but I was still nervous, knowing I didn’t stand a chance.
“There comes your partner,” she said as Damen walked towards us with his trainer. “You guys will be fighting Crate tomorrow together, simultaneously working on your teamwork skills.”
Damen’s trainer, Sarr, spoke up loud enough for Van and Ophelia on the other side of the room to hear, “We’ll take a short break now before continuing training.”
As they walked away, I looked over at Damen, remembering the vision I had before coming here. I’d been wanting to tell him the two hours we’d been here already, but never got the chance. I had one now. “Damen, I need to tell you something really important.”
He turned to face me and looked into my eyes. The golden color of his eyes made my heart stutter as the little box I’d pushed my feelings into in the corner of my brain rattled. I continued, not paying any heed, “Before I came here, I had a vision – “
The words hadn’t even formed in my head when Van came over and ushered Damen away. He shot me a “we’ll talk about this later” look. I rolled my eyes, annoyed. I guess it’d better to talk to him after training, anyways.
“Hey!” Ophelia’s bubbly voice came from behind me.
“Hey! You look like you’re in a good mood,” I smiled at her.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this “Destined” thing, and it scared the hell of out of me at first, but I kept thinking and realized that if we’re The Destined, then it’s got to mean something, you know? We have to be capable and…special.” Her dark gray eyes were concentrated, heavy with thought, like stormy clouds after the storm. Her pink mouth was pulled slightly to the side, her dimple making a chance appearance, like it did when she quirked her lips a certain way.
“I’ve been thinking about it, too, and came to the same conclusion. Even my abilities feel stronger, and I’ve been able to more with them,” I replied.
“How so?” her eyes were bright with curiosity,
“My ability to see visions. I can choose what I want to see, and it gives me a bold sense of power in the oddest way. The Seer part me has always been so out of my reach of control and it’s always frustrated me because the Controller part of me admits so much rule over my actions to me.” I could feel my eyes glow a bit brighter as I explained my newfound discovery.
“Things like that convince me more that we are fit for this “job”,” she grinned, thrilled, before her mouth fell back into a quirk, “but my ability hasn’t been feeling very pronounced. It actually hasn’t upgraded much.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re younger than me. You still have two months before you’re twenty-one, and I’ve only just been feeling this, three weeks beforehand,” I soothed her worries.
Her grin reappeared as she realized that my reason seemed fair. “Hey, I think we’re going up against each other once the break is over.”
“I’ll try not to beat you too bad,” I smirked at her and winked.
“We’ll see who actually wins!” she stuck her tongue out at me and we both laughed.
We were cut off when Sarr came back to announce that the break was over. Ophelia and I stood in front of each other in our fight stances as Damen and Van did so, too, on another mat.
I sized Ophelia up, knowing she liked to go for the stomach first with a left hand punch and then trying to knock her opponent’s feet of the floor as fast as she could. However, she knew that I knew that, so she would definitely start another way. I remembered to watch her movements. She wasn’t as good as hiding her subtle movements as Trix had been so I was able to detect her right elbow move forward slimly much quicker than I would’ve Trix. I was ready when she came forward to “break” my nose with the swing of her elbow. I ducked, giving myself the momentum to execute a 360 sidekick into her stomach. She fell back a little, but recovered swiftly to take advantage of my bad habit and strike me in the chest with a hard blow from her left. I staggered back, having had the breath knocked out of me, but I knew that the punch meant that she was going to target my legs next. I was proven correct when she came up behind me to take my knees out, but I pushed my elbow back and made contact with something firm and I knew it was her gut.
We went back and forth like that for a while, neither one of us necessarily winning, until I saw an opening to take her down once and for all. As her punch succeeded towards my face, I grabbed her fist and twisted it around her back, turning her around and taking out her legs from under her. I stayed on top of her for the needed ten seconds, and then let her struggling body go.
“That was a good fight!” I said as she got up.
She rolled her eyes at me before smiling and agreeing.
“Training is over for today. Be back tomorrow at 7 sharp,” Sarr ordered in a strict tone. He was handsome with a strong jaw and light brown hair that fell into his eyes a little.
“I’ll see you later tonight at the café!” Ophelia called to me before joining Van and smiling up at him with a dreamy look in her eyes.
I laughed at how stupid she looked before I saw Damen at the far bench, getting his stuff together in a bag, and suddenly I didn’t have an opinion on the matter.
He looked up to see me and his lips twitched upward a smidge before he walked over, bag in hand. “You had something important you had to tell me?”
I bit the inside of my mouth, fear having caught up with me. Fear of how he would react to the news. Fear of him not wanting to go find his mother. Fear of him spiraling back into his pit of darkness. I took a lungful of air in, feeling it elongate my spine and expand my ribcage, before I let it out softly.
Having been avoiding his eyes, I looked into them as I grabbed his hand and curled my fingers around it, holding it. His fingers didn’t reciprocate the action.
“I had a vision,” I bit my lip, “About your mom.” I don’t know what I expected him to say or how he’d react to that statement, but I knew silence wasn’t it. I continued, anyways, “She was talking to Jim Clowd in your living room…” I relayed the whole vision to him, word for word, having had replayed it so many times in my head that I remembered every word, every mannerism, every detail. He’d stopped looking at me the moment I told him that the vision was about his mother, but I didn’t need to look into his eyes to be aware of the pain he felt. I left out one part, where she was. “As Jim was walking out, he told your mom to go somewhere close and small so you could find her one day. He told her to go to Città di Mare.” I waited for him to look at me but he didn’t so I said, “Damen,” and when he still didn’t look, I put my hand on his cheek and turned his face to look at me. I wasn’t ready for the intensity in his eyes, the look of sorrow, frustration, and hurt. The look that said he desperately needed a hug, but I knew he wouldn’t accept it so I held onto his hand. “Damen, she nodded. Your mother is living in Città di Mare.”
His mouth fell open a scant amount, letting him take in deeper breaths, helping him try to hold onto the air that was slipping out of his grasp. His eyes widened and he stepped back, dropping his bag.
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