chapter Nine
The shadows cast by their bodies began to darkened and thickened, slowly twining up their legs and around their bodies. The darkness dragged the pair down in a quick jerk, forcing the air out of Mathieu’s lungs. Mathieu tried to pull in more oxygen, but nothing came. His lungs burned and screamed for air, the darkness pressing in on his eyes until he thought he’d pass out.
And as fast as it’d begun, it was ending, shooting them up out of the darkness. Solomon’s hand was still wrapped around his, however, the scenery had changed. Now, they were in a tall building with mirrors on all the walls and mats on the floor. Beams and rafters crisscrossed lowly around the room to the upper area. Near the top of the room was a small platform, although Mathieu couldn’t see what was on it.
“What is this place?” He looked around but already knew. It was a training facility of some sort with weaponry lining the walls, along with targets and protective gear.
The blond man moved towards a rack of swords ranging from blunted broad swords to dulled rapiers. “This is where we train. Here.” Solomon tossed a rapier to Mathieu in a no-nonsense manner. “Ever used a sword?”
The sword fit in his hand well, a familiar feeling. Over the years, he had been convinced by Demetri and Avian to learn to fight with a sword, must to his disinterest. “Yeah, Avian made me fence with her for the past three years. I hated it. I didn’t do too badly with it though. Stabbing just takes too long and limits the ways to attack.”
Smiling, Solomon held a hand out for the rapier. “Broads it is then. Alright.” He took down two swords and pushed one into Mathieu’s hands as he passed, taking a ready position. “Let me see what you can do. You’ve had some instructions, so…” He shrugged.
Mathieu nodded and rolled his shoulder, lifting the blade. It was heavier than a rapier, but he held it point up and at the ready.
“If you’re interested, technically these aren’t real broad swords. They have hand and a half grips.” Solomon said as he advanced towards the white-haired man.
“Uh…” Mathieu didn’t know how that helped, but he nodded and brought the sword up to parry a blow from Solomon, wincing slightly as it reverberated through his wrist. This was part of why he hated swords.
The blond rolled his eyes. “It’s not a foil. It’s a sword. Use it like one.”
Huffing, Mathieu took the weapon up again and held it ready, this time swinging to meet the other man’s attack. It wasn’t as bad as the first and he dropped his shoulder before rotating the blade and bringing it back up in an upward cut. The movement was slow and deflected easily, but the blond smiled approvingly. Okay. This time he was on the offensive, making the first swing aimed for the other man’s head.
Solomon easily avoided all of Mathieu’s blows; however, the blond man watched each thwarted attack, noting that Mathieu was slowly picking it up the use of a real sword.
Mathieu’s endurance was not used to standing up to the weight of a real sword, or his time spent in Korinth not practicing. His already rather slow attacks were becoming glacier drift slow, but he tried to not let it get to him. Irritation flowed through him at the fact that he hadn’t landed a single blow. Soon, Mathieu’s shoulder was having a hard time finding the strength to heft the blade up into a guarded position, and his effort began to diminish. Each swing was providing a dull ache and he was panting heavily, sweat darkening his hair to a grayish color.
“We’ll need to work on endurance.” Solomon pointed out with a smirk and took a quick step before spinning on his heel, bringing the weapon in a wide, sweeping arc that Mathieu just managed to duck under.
A sound of indignation left Mathieu’s mouth. “Hey, that wasn’t fair! I wasn’t ready…”
“Do you think a real enemy will be worried about whether or not you’re ‘ready’? Expect to not see it coming, especially when you are becoming fatigued. Quit thinking. React.” With that, the blond narrowed his eyes and began a barrage, coming at Mathieu hard and fast. He wasn’t giving an inch, pressing the other back until he hit a wall.
Mathieu groaned, body protesting his sudden retreat. His back was to a wall, literally, and he wasn’t sure if the blond man would really hurt him or not. Solomon wasn’t relenting, so he was inclined to believe he would. Mathieu closed his eyes for a single moment, taking a deep breath. He swung the sword wildly to gain some breathing room and managed to get a foot or two away from the wall, using the time to fortify his defense. Mathieu was done playing around, and it was about time for him to use his gift. Energy slid down his arm and wrapped around the blade, infusing it with extreme strength. This time, when he swung to meet the blow of the other, the backlash wasn’t so bad, his energy crackling as it absorbed it. The tides were quickly turned, Mathieu now having Solomon backing up, albeit much slower than the reverse.
Things were going well until a particularly awkward clang of steel on steel left them both reeling. A weird strain on his wrist told him that he’d hurt himself. “Damn it…” Mathieu bit out, let the sword drop to the floor. It kind of stung to wiggle his fingers and he rubbed at his wrist.
Solomon set his sword down and reached out, taking Mathieu’s wrist firmly in a callused hand. “Hm.” He twisted and turned it. He poked and prodded. “It’s a sprain.” The blond said with a sigh. “We’ll wrap it and see if Elric will heal it, okay?”
Rolling his eyes, Mathieu yanked his hand from the blond, wrapping his fingers around his hurt wrist and closed his eyes. The soft glow of energy filled the gaps between his fingers, illuminating his skin. It took only moments before the effect took hold and his wrist felt fine again. “There. All better.”
Sharp green eyes surveyed him, judging. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“I’ve always been able to. I used to fight a lot with a kid I knew.” Shrugging, he swiped the sword off the floor. “These things are pretty heavy. Not standard steel. Energy stone infused, I’m guessing.”
The blond simply grunted at his explanation to his healing. “That’s very perceptive about the sword. Yes; Lenore makes them that way because they’re stronger. And she makes each person’s unique to them, compatible to their gift.”
Mathieu smiled. “Oh? Then show me yours.”
Solomon hesitated, giving him a curious look. “Well…Alright.” Solomon left Mathieu to cross the room. Along one wall was a panel of white steel cabinets. Each tall, thin cabinet had a name engraved on it. The blond man stood before his and pressed his hand to it. After a moment, it clicked open; inside was a pair of hooked swords. Solomon withdrew them and carried them back with him. One was held out to Mathieu. “Be careful. There isn’t a grip.” The blond said.
Every edge of the blade was sharpened to perfection. Mathieu held it gingerly, avoiding the edges. “Don’t these cut your hands?”
“Yes. But my gift is resilience. I heal faster than even you. And my blood has some sort of extra properties or something that helps intensify wounds when my blood gets into the wounds my blades inflict.” Solomon smiled.
“It’s light…” Mathieu handed it back. “They’re pretty, too.”
Nodding, the blond just tossed both blades over his shoulders and they were practically sucked back into the cabinet; it clicked closed. “Now, to Ithaine.” Solomon said.
Mathieu wasn’t sure if Ithaine was a person, a place, or a torture device. Therefore, he silently held his hand out to the man, ready to run if he needed to. The sinking darkness twined around him again, pulling him down. Closing his eyes, he pressed closer to Solomon, hating the feeling of choking. It hurt. He suddenly realized they’d never cleaned up the swords.
As they came out of the darkness, this time in an old fashion house that reminded him of the orphanage, he was slightly better prepared. There was a large grandfather clock against the wall and if it was accurate, his little dance with Solomon had taken almost a full hour. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. His eyes slid around the room, taking it all in. The foyer was done in tastefully warm hues of browns and reds with seating aplenty. He could have heard a pin drop.
Solomon sat down and motioned for him to sit, as well. The loveseat sunk under Mathieu’s slight weight, as did the carpet. For the most part, the room they were in was rather empty, but he didn’t comment. If the owner of the place wanted to decorate sparsely, the only things other than the clock and the loveseat were a painting of a light house and long thin table with a single doll on it, then it wasn’t his business to judge. Mathieu stared at the painting, looking at the way that it seemed to be alive, the water sort of rippling and the grass softly swaying.
“This is a nice place.” He tried to compliment, “Very…quiet.” Mathieu’s voice was just above a whisper.
The blond seemingly ignored him, however, his gaze riveted on the small doll. It had a porcelain face, painted white with red lips and rosy cheeks. It had no eyes. The dress it wore was grey wool with white accents; clearly a handmade outfit, possibly by a child. Solomon’s fingers were tapping a very slow beat on his thigh, and it was maddeningly distracting to Mathieu. He wanted to cover the other’s hand with his and ask him to stop, but he was somewhat sure he wouldn’t get the appendage back. So he continued to look away from the blond and anywhere but at the eyeless doll.
There was a rustle of fabric and his companion stood to pace the length of the room. Mathieu couldn’t read the expression on Solomon’s face, so he busied himself with other thoughts, such as how time had seemed to slip from him so easily when he had been fighting with the blond. When it came down to it, he was not a fighter; that much he was sure of. He accomplished more with his words than his fists, although he needed it, he had the temper of a killer. He was following that train of thought when a slight movement attracted his gaze. It was the doll moving, nodding slowly. “That’s so creepy.” Mathieu said, covering his mouth.
“It’s time. We can go in now.” Solomon said, turning and heading down a hallway, opening the third door on the right. A plume of smoke wafted out, smelling strongly of apples and something sinfully dark.
Mathieu followed Solomon into the room, taking in the near darkness. Only a white colored fire that sat harmlessly on the carpet and the glowing cherry of a cigarette provided light.
“Ithaine.” The blond man bowed before a girl.
Wrinkling his nose, Mathieu did the same. He peeked up into a startlingly young face with milky eyes. She was fifteen, at the most and draped languidly across a loveseat. Her hair was tucked under a scarf, and her dress was bunched around her thighs. Her feet propped up against the wall, baring her legs.
“Solomon,” her voice was high-pitched and she sounded like she was at the other end of a long tunnel, despite her proximity in the small room, “You brought a visitor. He’s positively radiant.”
“Um…” The sound escaped Mathieu before he could stop himself. Ithaine stared at him with those eerily white eyes, not blinking. A slow smile crept across her face, lips curling her cigarette. “Sit, boy. Talk a while, won’t you?”
Mathieu looked around but there were no seats other than the one she was slouched on, so he sat on the floor, next to the fire. It was cold. “Okay. My name is Mathieu, just so you know.” He looked around but he could make no details about the room out. “Um, what should we talk about?”
“That is the true question, isn’t it? Something circles in your mind, doesn’t it?” Her skin had a delicate sheen to it in the soft light, and she shifted until she appeared more comfortable.
The air shifted against him when Solomon sat leaning against a wall, but Mathieu averted his eyes, “…Can you see me?”
She let her gaze drift up to the ceiling where she blew a smoke ring. Mathieu deduced that the apple scent he had smelt at the doorway came from her cigarette. “In a sense; your physical form does evade my sight, as do all things, but I see the things you can’t. But now it is my turn. Do you know your heritage?”
“Uh, well, hm.” He scratched the back of his head as he thought of how to answer that. “Well, I don’t know who my parents are, if that’s what you’re asking. I was an orphan.” His tone became defensive, “do you have a heritage?” Mathieu genuinely hated talking about his parents and his past. Not even Avian had cured him of that.
Ithaine laughed wispily at him. “Of course I do. I am the third daughter of Mana the Stoned and Trelk the Wary, great-granddaughter of Shae the Wise.”
That meant absolutely nothing to him, but her tone implied he should be impressed. “That’s…cool?”
She sighed and smoke left her mouth like a dragon’s fire. “I grow tired of your presence. I’ve seen all you have to offer. The sadness, the desperation, the sparks of passion you feel fo—“
“Then if you’ve seen enough of me,” Mathieu said over the top of her, afraid of what she might reveal to the man sitting behind him, “then maybe Solomon should ask what he came to ask you so we can be on our way.” Being dismissed so rudely and so soon made him frown, but he kept his opinion of her manners to himself.
A silent laugh flitted across her face, but she nodded slowly, invitingly.
“Ithaine, I need to know what to do. Elise says—“
Her face distorted into a snarl, “I know what she says.” Her short words matched the look on her face, “Another energy user. Angry power that will not stand the test of time. His father is one of four, and his power stems from a source I do not see. Bridle it before he burns up in his own white flame.”
Nothing she said made sense to Mathieu. “Excuse me?” He said.
“Do what your heart calls for your head to do. The sweetest nectars come from the deadliest fruits.” Ithaine continued, addressing both and neither of them.
Solomon’s voice came from over his head this time, “I hear your words, Ithaine, but I do not heed all of them.” The blond’s tone was almost as rude as the girl’s previous manners were. It took only a subtle move from Solomon to compel Mathieu to his feet, trailing the other out the door. A million questions at the sudden change in the pair’s exchange bubbled just below the surface.
Mathieu waited until they were outside of the room. “What the hell was that about?”
“Ithaine is a Sensor; among the rarest of her breed. You can always tell one because they don’t live past about thirty and they’re blind. Always.”
Filing that small piece of information away to a time when it may be helpful, Mathieu continued. “Why did she seem so mad when you brought up Elise?”
Solomon’s pace back down the hallways was clipped, as was his voice. “Not that it’s your business, but Elise is Ithaine’s older sister. Elise is something of the golden child. Ithaine is rare and powerful, but Elise is practical. While her sister runs part of an empire, Ithaine is confined to the family home until she dies. It’s rather sad, actually.”
Mathieu watched his feet as he walked, the shoes he was borrowing a size or two too large. “That’s sad.”
The blond didn’t say anything more, only held out a hand to Mathieu. Solomon pulled the white haired man close and transported them back to the training facility, where they found Kiev. Her hair was pulled back and her hands were glowing like the bonds that had held him his first night in Unith. The glow was a bluish white, and extended in thin lines out from her hands. It took him a moment to realize that they were strings, like a marionette.
At the other end of said strings was another girl with jet black hair streaked with every color imaginable. Her hands were glowing too, however they were a flaming red, and she was currently dangling over a rafter, suspended by Kiev’s strings. “Let me down, Kiev! This isn’t fair!” The stranger kicked her feet and whined. “Don’t make me hurt you!” She shrieked as Kiev lifted her up higher and let her fall for a moment, catching her just before she hit the ground.
“Haha! It’s an Avanon-piñata!” Kiev was laughing and lifting the other girl once again.
Avanon, as Mathieu now knew her name to be, wrinkled her nose and grasped the strings she was held captive by. They began to turn red and the color crept back along the strings towards Kiev. The red reached the blonde girl’s hands, turning them scarlet.“Ow!” Kiev broke the strings and cradled her hands to her chest.
Landing smoothly on her feet, almost catlike, Avanon grinned and let the glow around her hands die down. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
“You were aiming to hurt me!” Kiev shrieked.
Avanon put her hands on her hips, snarling. “You were performing the queen’s torture on me!”
“You’re exaggerating.” The blonde woman bent her burnt fingers and winced slightly. A few blisters were forming on the delicate skin of her hands.
Mathieu stepped forward and smiled. “Here Kiev, let me help you…” He quickly healed her hands with his energy, wanting to show off a little. “There you go, hunny.”
Solomon was at his shoulder, giving the girls an annoyed look. Muscled arms were folded over an equally muscular chest and the look in his eyes was disapproving. “Ladies, didn’t I tell you not to train together unsupervised. Something about neither of you having any restraint and both of you having a sadistic streak?” Both women looked at the floor and mumbled, blushing.
Elbowing Solomon in the ribs for making them behave in such an abashed way, Mathieu studied the new female. “Hi.” He said with a bright smile. Ithaine was already a million miles away from his mind.
Avanon looked up, smiling. “Hey. You must be Mathieu. You’re quite the talking point at the house. I’m Avanon.” She held a hand out. Mathieu hesitated to take it and she laughed. “I won’t hurt you. Kiev just needed it.”
Mathieu finally took her hand and shook it, looking at her up and down. She was built athletically and had tattoos on her cheeks, but she looked good. The mass of colorful and black hair didn’t hurt her case. “Really now, a talking point? And what is your gift?” He inquired curiously.
She laughed, cocking one hip to the side. “Yes, you have everyone in something of a fit. I’ve been away, but apparently you destroyed the whole front of the Tri-District Manor. I wish I’d been there for that. Anyway,” Avanon said, jumping into a different topic. “Anyone that I can make skin contact with, I can burn.”
“That’s so cool!” Mathieu exclaimed, looking at Avanon with a sense of awe. His eyes flicked to the other scolded woman. “And Kiev, what is your gift? Cause those string things were pretty legit.”
Kiev tossed her hair in a proud manner. “I’m a puppeteer.”
“Wow!” Mathieu looked at her with big eyes. “So can you, like, control anyone or anything?”
“Sadly, no. There are a lot of factors.” The blonde woman said, looking to the side.
Interest peeked, Mathieu raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
Kiev sat on the floor and folded her legs below her, as if expecting the others to do the same. “Well. Okay, first, it depends on the size of the object. The smaller the object I want to control, the easier. A bunny is easier to control that a tiger. Then I need to consider something’s will. That really only applies to people, though. If their will power is stronger than mine, I can’t hold them. Oh, and the closer their will power is to mine, while still not being as strong, the less time I can control them. Physically, the bigger they are, the harder it is to control, too.” Kiev nodded decisively. “So it boils down to this: how big is it, how much will does it have, and does it have a gift or power, too.”
Mathieu had sat as she spoke, and was listening intently. “That’s a lot of things to consider before you put your gift to use.”
Kiev laughed and wiggled her toes. Her hands wrapped around the ends of her feet and she rocked to the side slightly. “Yeah, but it’s so worth it. My powers kicks ass because I can control a person’s mind if they’re weak, on top of their bodies once I get my strings around them.”
“I bet I could take you.” Mathieu teased slyly.
Solomon groaned.
“Alright!” Kiev hopped to her feet, blonde hair swinging, and skipped away from the others so they had room to fight. She lifted her hands, holding them parallel to the floor in front of her.
Mathieu stood, too, and took a basic fighting stance.
The lights above them were humming softly and there was a brief moment where silence filled the room. They both moved at the same time, Kiev flicking her fingers up and letting strings of light shoot straight for him, Mathieu jumping through the air towards her, funneling his energy into a sword that mimicked the broadswords he and Solomon had been using earlier. It ended in a shower of energy sparks. Kiev’s strings had wrapped around his wrists and midriff before she had pulled her elbow back sharply, drawing her hand back, and redirecting him into a nearby mirror. Her strings had sunk into his skin and started to strangle him as she slammed him into the wall repeated. All the while she closed the distance between them; her hand danced through the air, making beautiful patterns as she manipulated the strings.
He ended up on the floor, hogtied, and looking up at Kiev. It had been the shortest fight he’d ever been in and he’s been thoroughly beaten. Wrinkling his nose up at her, he huffed. “Very funny. How did you beat me so easily?”
“Let me explain,” Solomon said, draping an arm over Kiev’s shoulders as the strings disappeared, “Kiev is my second-in-command. She’s just as tough, rude, and powerful as I am. She’s smart, too.” Kiev blushed and closed her eyes, smiling; the praise made her practically glow. As he spoke, he helped Mathieu up.
“I never would have known…” Mathieu looked at the pair of blonds, his eyebrows practically at her hairline. It was strange, but in a weird way, it made sense to him. “That’s really cool, Kiev! I mean, you’re like one of the strongest people here.” He looked at the girl, hands on his hips. So easily, he had been beaten and he was beginning to realize just how far he had to go before he could even hope to get his revenge.
“Well thank you.” Kiev said, taking Mathieu’s hand. “Come on.” She smiled at him and led him back to where Avanon was standing. They took a seat on one of the mats; while the rest engaged in idle chit chat, but his mind was lost in thought. Mathieu really hoped that Solomon would take training him seriously so that he could become stronger. In Unith, he had been strong and his powers were impressive; but here in Korinth where everyone was rather special, he didn’t stand out at all. Maybe he wasn’t as amazing as he had always thought that he was. Sighing through his nose, he shook his head and tried to focus on what the others were talking about.
Finding it easier that he thought, he listened to them talk and learned quite a bit. Mathieu discovered that Avanon and Solomon were best friends, that Kiev had been born under Nathan’s care so he treated her like his own, and that Nathan had practically adopted everyone staying in the manor.
“So, have you met Lenore yet?” Avanon asked from her perch on Solomon’s lap.
Mathieu shrugged one shoulder. “I haven’t met her, per se, however, I’ve seen her.”
Avanon nodded with a smile. “Gotcha. She’s very cool. But you should meet her soon so she can make your weapon.”
“Does she really make everyone’s weapon?”
Kiev took the question. “Yeah. She’s a metalbender so it doesn’t take her long. However, it drains her energy majorly, so she tries not to make too many at a time.” Kiev frowned slightly. “I feel a little bad, though ‘cause she works so hard and it really messes her up.”
Frowning as well, Mathieu gave the blonde woman a confused look. “Why does she do it if it’s so hard on her?”
“Well, she isn’t very good at fighting, but she wants to be helpful.”
Solomon chuckled. “That and no one else can make a weapon like she does.”
Mathieu mulled that over for a moment. “Huh.” He found her sacrifice rather noteworthy. “So, what kind of weapons do you two use, ladies?” Mathieu asked curiously.
Kiev and Avanon looked at each other, grinning. Standing, they went to the wall of cabinets together. Kiev wrapped a few of her marionette strings around her hand before pressing it to the wood; Avanon’s glowing hands opened hers. Mathieu suddenly realized that each cabinet would most likely only respond to that person’s power. It was a cleaver way to ensure privacy. That, however, was a concept that he found rather funny, considering the house they lived in.
The dark haired woman returned with a longbow, energy stones set down its arc. It was elegant, yet had a rigidity to it that was befitting the owner. In opposition, the blonde female brought back a satchel of small circlet blades.
Kiev sat first, opening her bag and holding up one circular blade. “Pretty, right?” The metal had a bright sheen to it, sparkling like starlight. “I can throw them, accurately might I add, and bring them back to me with my strings.”
“That sounds pretty damn useful.” Mathieu said, eyes slightly wider than usual. It was quite a very ingenious use of the woman’s power.
Solomon smiled. “Yes, it is. I’ve had my butt saved by them a fair few times.” The blond man leaned over and patted Kiev on the head. She beamed at him.
“And we all know that you usually need your ass saved.” The voice came from behind Mathieu and held a deep tremor to it.
“Darcia.”
“Solomon.” The men greeted each other over Mathieu’s head.
In the tension that ensued, Mathieu lazily looked over his shoulder at the newcomer. Darcia was tall, especially from this angle, and broad across the shoulder. His arms were corded with thick muscles even though he appeared to be in his mid-forties. The man’s hair was jet black and fell into his eyes, but what caught Mathieu’s attention was the mouthful of sharp, pointed teeth. They caught the light at they were bared at Solomon.
After a moment, though, Darcia’s face relaxed into a smile. “So, I wasn’t invited to the powwow?” The other three laughed while Mathieu sat there quietly as Darcia sat beside him.
Kiev bumped Darcia’s shoulder. “It wasn’t preplanned. I showed up to see how Mathieu was doing with his first day of training with that bastard.” Kiev stuck her tongue out in Solomon’s direction.”That’s when Avanon showed up to train with Solomon. We started talking about how much stronger we’d become and couldn’t resist a little scrimmage. These two showed up at the end when I was kicking Avanon’s ass, and now you’re here.”
“You were not beating me!” Avanon said indignantly.
Kiev laughed derisively. “The hell I wasn’t!”
“Ladies.” Darcia said with a small, teasing smile. “It doesn’t matter who won. But, it does seem that everyone came to fight with Solomon, myself included.”
Avanon’s eyes were full of excitement and she looked up at Solomon. “Oh, Blondie do it! You two fighting is the most badass thing. Last time,” her words were now directed at Mathieu, “they leveled our previous training building. It was phenomenal.”
“Why does that always get brought up? It wasn’t even my fault. If Darcia hadn’t busted out the Fire Sword, I wouldn’t have had to use magic, too.” Solomon huffed and blew his bangs out of his face.
Darcia chuckled and patted the blond man’s shoulder heavily. “You would’ve lost anyway, but I figured you deserved a challenge.”
“Except that Nathan put me in charge and he took it out of me, not you. Next time, you can tell him that you destroyed his building. We are not fighting today.” Solomon said resolutely.
“Afraid you’ll lose?”
“Never.”
“Got your butt handed to you last time.” The black-haired man mumbled off-handedly.
Solomon struck out with his foot, kicking the other man in the shin. “That’s crap and you know it. It was a draw. Elric complained about healing you up as much as he did me.”
Darcia rolled his eyes and huffed. “C’mon, spar with me. We’ll use those little wooden one.”
Kiev and Avanon nodded vehemently, egging him on. Mathieu sat there mutely, completely cut off from the conversation. He was somewhat invisible with these people, but sometimes he didn’t mind.
The blond man sighed, outnumbered. “Fine. Jeez. But let the record show that I said this is a horrible idea.” Grumbling, he got to his feet, closely followed by Darcia, and went to the wall, pulling down two practice swords. “Bad idea. Such a bad idea.” He tossed one to the raven.
“Wonderful. Take your place, kitten.” Smirking, Darcia crossed the room and took up a neutral stance, the sword’s tip touching the floor just in front of him. His gaze flicked to the girls. “I’d move a little further back, ladies. We don’t need any accidental injuries.” The two scrambled to their feet and moved back as well. Kiev thought to grab Mathieu’s shoulder and pull him with them out of the way.
Solomon grumbled some more as he took up his fighting position. “Let’s try not to break anything this time.”
“Solomon, if we didn’t break something, no one would believe we fought.”
The males stared each other down, eyes narrowing the longer that they glared. Solomon moved first, lunging forward with the blunted tip aimed for the man. Darcia chuckled, easily knocking his blow away and rotating the sword to crack into the blond’s ribs. Solomon grunted and lifted a knee into the raven’s stomach, forcing him to stumble backwards a few steps.
“Come on, Solomon. Don’t tell me you’re holding back?” Darcia teased.
“I don’t want to go all out. You aren’t worth it.” Rotating on his heel, Solomon kicked out at the man. Darcia ducked below his kick and swept the blond’s legs out from under him.
Solomon hit the ground heavily. “Oof!” It didn’t seem as though either attack had gone as planned, though, because the two ended in a pile of limbs. “Jeez. Get off.” Wriggling free, Solomon swung his wooden sword into the man’s stomach, smiling. “Serves you right!” The blond actually laughed manically.
Wincing, Darcia got to his feet and flicked his weapon out, stretching. Grunting in the other man’s direction, he lifted his blade to in front of his face, running a finger along the blade. It began to glow with an icy white glint, the tip encased in ice. Stepping forward with a speed unsurpassed, he swung the blade in a tight arc as he jumped, soaring through the air and knocking the man into a mirror lined wall. The glass cracked behind Solomon and Mathieu watched as the blond hit the floor. Biting his tongue, he screamed in his mind for his teacher to get up, to kick the crap out of Darcia.
As the two had been fighting, many hits and exchanged happened without Mathieu’s notice. His eyes tried to track the men’s movements, but their feet and hands moved faster than he could see. They blurred together and apart, the wooden swords making dull thunks more often than seemed right to Mathieu.
In one of the rare moments that the men were a few feet apart, namely because Solomon was crashed into yet another wall, their gazes met. A shiver of…something went up Mathieu’s spine and the look Solomon gave him was indescribable. But it seemed the blond man understood that Mathieu wanted him to win.
Nodding. Solomon got to his feet and dusted the small sharps of mirrored glass off of himself.. “Right. No more holding back.”
Darcia bared his teeth like a shark and raised the sword again, moving towards his sparring partner. “About damn time.” But he never reached Solomon; instead, he soared backwards.
Solomon took a deep breath and pursued his mark, launching across the room and knocking him further back with the flat of his weapon. It seemed to Mathieu that Solomon had used some sort of magic that he had missed. The sparring pair played a short game of cat and mouse, their movements becoming jerky and fueled with adrenaline, an edge of anger. It ended in a stalemate, swords locked, along with their gazes.
Both of them were muttering so softly that Mathieu couldn’t distinguish what they were saying. Solomon sounding like a hissing cat, his hair standing on end like one; Darcia’s words were more guttural and his body seemed to be growing in size. Testosterone and power filled the space between them.
“Excuse me, Mathieu,” Avanon wasn’t looking at him, “I’d recommend that you duck. It’s about to get explosive.” As if on cue, the power that was building between the two men suddenly burst out, rolling like a storm through the room.
The men burst backwards from each other and landed against opposite walls; Kiev stepped behind Avanon, and Avanon held her glowing hands before her to deflect the flow of power; Mathieu, however, got battered by the brunt of it.
He could feel it pulling at his clothes and hair, trying to push him back. But it was deeper than that, digging into his soul. Gritting his teeth, Mathieu pushed his energy out into a shield, trying to stop the pain; it helped minimize the spirit wrenching sting, but it took a few moments for the aching to stop completely. At some point, he had squeezed his eyes shut, and as he cracked them open, he found himself lying on the floor, face to face with Solomon.
“Hey…” The blond was grinning down at Mathieu. “You okay? Probably should have warned you…”
Avanon made a tutting sound from somewhere above him. “I warned him! He just didn’t listen.”
“I didn’t know you meant right then!” Mathieu groaned as he tried to sit up, but the pain in his chest wouldn’t allow it. It seemed that since moving here, he had become immobilized far more often than was normal. His hand landed on his chest and he rubbed softly. It was like a strained ache.
“Let me see.” Solomon ordered, already pushing up Mathieu’s shirt.
Flushing, Mathieu batted at him as best he could. “Hey, hey, hey! Knock that crap off. Stripping me is indecent.”
Green eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Just let me see, okay?”
Mumbling, he sat up with some help and pulled his shirt up, letting Solomon see. Two small, runic marks had appeared on him, one on the front side of each shoulder; the space between them was red and looked like it might bruise. Gentle fingers poked at the marks and then the injured area, prodding questioningly.
“Thought so…” Solomon said after a thorough inspection, letting Mathieu’s shirt drop back into place. “Listen, I’m sorry. You didn’t guard fast enough, so we ended up leaving a mark where our energies flowed through you. It might tingle for a while, just so you know. But otherwise, you should be fine.” He patted Mathieu’s shoulder. “Your first battle scar, kid. See why I didn’t want to let Darcia loose on your first? Have to toughen you up a bit.”
Darcia came over and knelt down too. “Solomon, I’m only hard on you. I’d think that my apprentice would be stronger than me by now. But,” his dark gaze turned to Mathieu, “I’m sorry you got hurt. I’m not normally this violent.”
Kiev spluttered, “Oh please! You’re always violent! You broke my collarbone the first time we sparred!”
Darcia grinned toothily. “Then I’ll clarify. I wouldn’t dream to hurt our newly prized little flower.”
“Who are you calling a flower?” Mathieu struggled to his feet, letting his healing energy flow through him and do whatever it could to help him. “Jeez, you guys are a pain. Roughing me up like that…” He blew his bangs out of his face, running fingers through his unevenly cut hair. Mathieu still hadn’t bothered to get it evened out.
Darcia patted his head. “Look at how pretty the flower is when he preens. Like a little doll. Or a duchess.” Darcia lifted his nose in the air and made a pinched face.
“No a duchess, The Duchess.” Solomon and the raven were giving each other identical grins.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up. Duchesses are girls and I am clearly not.” Mathieu folded his arm and huffed.
Kiev chuckled. “It seems our family has a new little lady.”
“This is stupid. Call me a girl again, and I’ll lay the smack down on all of you.” Frowning, He turned away from them.
Throwing her blonde haired head back, Kiev gave a hearty laugh. “I already beat you once today; I’ll do it again anytime.” Their little circle reformed around Mathieu. “If we say you’re a girly girly Duchess, then you’re a Duchess.”
Annoyed with the current topic and seeing this as a losing battle, Mathieu sighed and looked at the blonde woman. “Tell me, Kiev, how did you learn to fight as well as you do?”
Kiev leaned against Darcia, smiling. “Well, I was brought here when I was thirteen. I had some trust issues, so I fought a lot once I got here.”
“What sort of things did you fight over?” Mathieu said, brow furrowed.
She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, I fought over everything: sharing a room, helping out with chores, and I just liked to get in and spar. It didn’t matter how badly I got beat because I would get back up and keep going until I passed out. Eventually, Darcia made me talk about some stuff and I started to relax.”
“Wasn’t that a relief?” Avanon said, rolling her eyes. “She was feisty as hell.”
“Once she found some balance, she was a natural.” Darcia agreed. “She scraps better than a guy.”
“Then I met Solomon and he made me his second-in-command. And that’s how I got here.” Kiev grinned and shrugged.
“What kind of issues did you have?” Mathieu asked without thinking. A long awkward silent followed his question and his eyes went wide. He hadn’t thought about how that would come out and the way that Solomon was looking at him told him he better start backtracking. “U-um, I mean, what about you, Avanon?” Mathieu turned his gaze to her, begging her with his eyes to help him.
From her perch on Solomon’s lap, Avanon pulled her multi-colored hair over her shoulder. She winked at Mathieu, willing to cover for him. “Solomon is my best friend,” she hugged him tightly, “and Darcia is the only father I’ve ever known. He isn’t my real papa, but he treats me like his daughter. I was born here, you know.” She swayed with a smile, braiding her hair.
Glad that the others seemed to not be holding his faux paus against him, Mathieu asked, “If you were born here, how didn’t you know your father?” He literally slapped himself in the forehead for his stupidity. It seemed that he was the man for insensitive questions today.
Solomon wrapped an arm around Avanon’s waist, rolling his eyes. “Her mom showed up pregnant and left soon after her birth. We get a lot of strays around here.”
“Like the time that Akira and Ayame showed up at the door.” Kiev said with a laugh, the others joining in.
“That was an eventful day. It was a rainstorm out, if I recall.” Darcia said between chuckles. “I remember Nathan nearly having a heart attack when Akira started to strip out of her riding clothes.” His looked at Mathieu, “Akira is a succubus and tends not to wear much in the way of undergarments. And her brother, Ayame, is like you. He’s an energy user. So, they walk in, Akira goes ‘this will work’ and just starts tossing clothes off. Ayame just shrugged and took off his coat, looking around like he was bored. So she’s standing there buck naked in the foyer and puts on her hips and says--”
The three spoke in unison, seemingly imitating the girl. “You guys don’t mind if we kick it here, do you?”
“Wow.” Mathieu said, trying to imagine Avian doing something like that. “When do I get to meet them?”
Darcia shrugged. “Don’t know. Solomon is better to ask. But I think they’ll like you.”
Mathieu rolled his eyes. “Okay, Solomon, when shall I get to meet them?”
Shaking his head, Solomon shrugged too. “I’m not certain, but soon, I’m assuming. They check in every once in a while.”
“What do they do?”
It was Avanon that answered, eyes half-lidded. “Ayame is a spy in Unith’s government and Akira is the King’s mistress. Had to put those succubus skills to work somehow.” Avanon joked. The rest nodded though, each clearly envisioning the woman Mathieu had never met.
“What about you, Darcia?” His tone was a bit bitter; he was still sore over the flower comment earlier.
The black-haired man tilted his head towards Mathieu. “I grew up in the Eastern District under Zanika and Zerieve; I protected them. Nathan, however, wanted me to join his armed forces and serve him under the hand of Solomon, so the girls let me go. I still go see them from time to time. They mean a lot to me.”
“You guys all have kind of cool stories…” Mathieu said, feeling a bit boring.
Kiev chuckled. “Everyone says that at first. You’ll have some crazy times to share after a while, too. But really, Solomon has the most interesting ones. He’s seen all of us come, and some of us go.”
“He has?”
The blond man’s nostrils flared, clearly not ready to talk about himself. “Shut up, Kiev.”
Darcia rubbed the space between his eyes, “Jeez, Solomon. You act like you don’t like to talk about yourself. We all know you’re vein and like to be the special one.”
Mathieu’s curiosity got the better of him, “What, are you like an alien? Secretly a woman? Really old?”
It seemed Mathieu had guessed right on at least one of them with the way that Solomon turned a light shade of red. After a long pause, and an encouraging noise from Avanon, the blond man admitted quietly, “…I’m a couple hundred years old.”
“No way!” Mathieu laughed, “How old, exactly?”
Solomon mumbled.
“Excuse me?” His tone was teasing, getting a bit of revenge.
Huffing, the man ran long fingers through his blond hair. “I’m just over six hundred, alright? I’m still young for my people but to you humans, I’m old.”
“Your people?”
“Wow, this kid really doesn’t know anything.” Darcia was giving him an exasperated look.
Solomon shook his head slightly, bemused. “How did I end up in this conversation? Well, since you don’t know, I’ll explain a bit. Okay, so I’m what you Unithians might call a vampire. I’m sure you’ve heard of those.” He rolled his emerald eyes, exasperated. Mathieu nodded an affirmation.
“However, that’s actually inaccurate. Back in the old days, vampires were a real species, but over the years, part of them died off and the rest mutated into something different. My sister and I are distant descendants of them. We inherited their longevity, along with slight physical enhancements. She has an exceptional sense of smell, and my eyes are unparalleled. We don’t need blood and we don’t avoid the sun, like the original vampires did. We can die from blood loss just like you guys. The only real difference is that we live longer and are stronger. It’s our gift.”
Mathieu mulled over what Solomon had said. He could tell that the other man was embarrassed of his age, his abnormality. “That’s cool. I’m jealous. My power seems rather…uncool now.” He winked and the blond man flushed, looking away. Mathieu rubbed the newfound marks on his shoulders. “But really, I want to hear more about you guys and the past. This is all so interesting.”
Kiev smiled at him. “I guess it would be for someone new. To us, these are old stories. But I suppose that’s how it is in families.”
“Family…?”
“Come on, you don’t think you’re an outsider, do you?” The blonde female smiled at Mathieu, tilting her head. “When you’re not moping or anything, we like you quite a bit. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t tease you, Duchess.”
“I don’t mope! And I’m not a duchess!”
“Do too, and you so are.” It was Solomon this time. “But truly, tell us about your childhood.”
Mathieu looked across the room to the broken mirror that he was reflected in. The spider web of cracks mutated his reflection, making him look distorted and broken. He guessed it wasn’t that far out of line from the truth. Swallowing hard, he put aside his hatred for talking about his past. These people called him family, so maybe he would just have to trust them. “Well,” he considered, “I grew up in an orphanage. I didn’t know either of my parents and until I met Avian, and then you guys, I was always the black sheep. I didn’t fit in well because people could tell that I was different, a freak.” He shrugged, making sure not to go into too much detail.
Kiev leaned over and hugged him. “You’re not a freak. Solomon is, but you’re not.”
Solomon scoffed, “Gee thanks, Kiev.”
Mathieu leaned into the hug. “The past makes up who we are. If we don’t endure, then we’ll never know happiness, and if we never know loneliness, then we can’t appreciate the company of others.” Mathieu looked at her, his posture relaxing. “But it means a lot to me that you care.”
Darcia drummed his fingers on his shoes. “You lived with the royal family, right?”
Mathieu nodded, thinking carefully before he answered.. “Yes. I protected the Princess. And you see how well I succeeded at that.” He mumbled.
“Not really your fault. He got the drop on you and if Nathan hadn’t distracted you, you wouldn’t have let him get her. We all have off days and we all make mistakes.” Darcia said.
“…Sure.”
The raven rubbed his chin. “So the castle, huh. I’ve only seen it once. How does it compare to living here?”
This was a topic Mathieu was slightly more comfortable with. “Well, it’s…different. Things there run on a strict schedule, every moment planned. If Avian and I wanted time to ourselves, we had to run off and hide. But Narrie, she’s gifted too, would always drag us back by our ears, hollering about responsibility.” He chuckled, “It took some getting used to, but it was comforting in a sense. I mean, I always knew where I should be and what I should do. I didn’t have to think much. But this place is…more relaxed. Things obviously have to get done around here, but they happen as they happen. The whole place won’t fall apart if it takes some time to get done. I like both, but for different reasons.” Freedom. That was the word his mind whispered to him whenever he thought about the differences, which he did often. It was easy to talk to these people, he noticed. After all, he was saying more than he normally would have on the topic.
They were all looking at him curiously. “Everything was planned? As in, you don’t get to decide where you go, or what you do?” Avanon gave him a look, nose wrinkled. It seemed that lifestyle didn’t appeal to her.
“Eh. Pretty much.”
“So if you wanted to go for a walk, you couldn’t just get up, go outside and walk?”
“Not unless it was my free time. If I wasn’t guarding Avian, I’d get an earful. Luckily, she was quite the rebel and tended to want to go on whirlwind adventures. She was an amazing person.”
“Well,” Solomon said, “I can’t promise any whirlwind adventures, but I do know that you’ll be allowed your freedom. You can come and go as you please, as well as make your own decisions. If you want to do something, or don’t want to, then just say so. We’ll respect that.”
“You guys will provide all the adventure I need when we take down the Unithian government. But the freedom is appreciated.” Mathieu said, yawning. He wasn’t tired per say, just relaxed for once. It’d been a while, to be honest.
“On a happier note, how are his fighting skills? Up to par?” Darcia gave his blond counterpart a look.
And as if Mathieu wasn’t even there, they began to talk about him. “Not exactly, but once we aren’t using broad swords to train with, I think that his ability will expand rapidly. I think they just might be too cumbersome for someone so small like him. But, I’ll try to bribe Lenore at dinner tonight to cast him a weapon tomorrow. Can I count on you to help me train him if she makes a sword?”
“Always, General. Your bidding is my bidding.” Darcia said, bowing even though he was sitting.
“General…” Mathieu rolled the word over his tongue for a moment. “Nope, just don’t see it.” Mathieu grinned broadly, sticking his tongue out.
Kiev’s face matched his. “Me neither! I serve him, but I can’t seem to see him the sense of my General.”
“He’s more of a…hm…what’s the word…let me think…” Mathieu’s fist met his palm. “That’s it. A sibling. Solomon acts like a big brother.”
“Humph. And how do you figure this?” Solomon’s eye twitched when Avanon nodded in agreement to Mathieu’s assessment.
“Simple. You’re annoyingly persistent, don’t let people wallow, train us with high expectations,” Mathieu said, counting the traits off on his fingers. “You’re just like a brother should be. You’re also kind of passive-aggressive, unnecessarily rude, and a bit dodgy.”
“…Dodgy?”
“Dodgy.” Mathieu concurred.
The blond gave the group at large a flat look before he shrugged. “I can accept most of that answer. So as the ‘big brother’, I declare that it’s getting late and we should all head back. Nathan will return soon and I don’t want to put him into a bad mood unless necessary.”
“Slave driver.” Avanon mumbled as she got to her feet and took her weapon back to its cabinet. Kiev followed suit and soon the group was assembled.
Darcia tapped his foot. “Solomon, you can’t move this many of us, can you? I mean we could go on foot, but it’s a long run and I bet dinner isn’t even started.”
Shaking his head, Solomon looked around. “No, you’re right. Teleporting will be faster. I can probably take the girls together, then you, Darcia. I’ll bring Mathieu through last. Sound good?”
“Like a plan.” They agreed.
Kiev stepped up to Solomon and took his hand, waiting patiently as Avanon took his other hand and darkness wrapped up around them, leaving Darcia and Mathieu alone together.
“Er…” Alone, Mathieu found the raven to be surprisingly creepy.
Darcia crossed his arms. “Listen, we don’t have much time. You seem nice, but you better listen well when I tell you that if you hurt Solomon, I won’t hesitate to tear you apart. He’s something like my brother and my son, and I’ve watched him be alone for many years. I don’t care what comes to fruition between you two, but I’d recommend that you think about whatever you decide to do. Don’t make me have to repeat this conversation.”
Solomon reappeared at that moment and smiled at them. “Okay, children. Come here, Darcia. Your turn.”
Darcia took the other’s hand, giving Mathieu one last look, and they too disappeared.
Mathieu stood there, dumbfound. He had no idea what the hell Darcia was talking about, and he felt like he’d been blindsided. To him, it seemed a lot more likely that Solomon would snap him in half like a twig for being annoying than he would hurt Solomon in some way. Huffing, he chalked it up to just not knowing Darcia well enough to understand what the man was getting at. Looking at the glass shards that littered the floor, he wondered idly if the mirrors could be fixed.
Picking up a piece that had flown across the room and was now at his feet, he stood and turned it over in his hand.
Warm breath fanned over Mathieu’s shoulder. “You should be careful. Glass tends to cut quickly.”
Mathieu let the shard fall to the ground, where it clattered in the ensuing silence. “Let me ask you something.” He said, turning to the blond.
“Alright.”
“You and I…You seemed like you hated me yesterday and found me repulsive, in fact you were pretty pissed that we have to share a room, yet now you’re treating me just like one of the others. I don’t get it.”
Sighing, Solomon folded his arms over his chest. “Actually, it’s simple.” The blond chuckled.
Mathieu’s eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head. He didn’t quite understand what the man meant. Something he did realize, however, was that after having spent some time with one another, and maybe it being just the two of them helped, but Solomon actually seemed to be a bit relaxed and open now. “What do you mean?” Mathieu questioned.
“Haven’t you ever met someone who just rubs you the wrong way because of how they behave? I don’t like sadness or people who let it control them. I thought you were going to let Avian’s death take over and consume you, and I wanted no part of it if you were just going to wallow.” Solomon’s eyes met Mathieu’s holding his gaze. “But this morning…you smiled, and that was enough for me.”
Mathieu blinked and a shiver ran through him. “Let’s go home.”