"This bi—"
The curse never left Nedrick's lips. The moment he felt those sharp blue eyes narrowing on him, colder by the second, the words shriveled and died in his throat. Even his thoughts dared not finish the insult. His instincts screamed at him, and instead of tempting fate, he did what any desperate man would. He chose a scapegoat.
Raven. His ever sacrificial friend.
Nedrick was already halfway turning to shift the blame when a soft voice brushed against his ears, lilting with concern.
"Oh my, what happened, Ned? Are you okay?"
The tone was gentle, almost worried. Anyone who didn't know Jasmine might have believed her. But Nedrick knew better. If he so much as hinted at discomfort, her punishment for ditching her to watch the fight would only sharpen.
He smiled instead, masking his panic beneath a layer of charm. "Oh, Jasmine, I'm perfectly fine. Just a bit stunned by how gorgeous you are. I think I've fallen for you all over again."
He met her gaze directly, refusing to flinch beneath her icy blue eyes, and curved his lips into a flirtatious grin. At the same time, he willed his rock affinity into the chair beneath him, layering stone over the frost. With an unbothered air, he sat as if nothing had happened.
A faint blush dusted Jasmine's cheeks. She tried to ignore his disarming smile, but her eyes betrayed her.
"Tsk…" A quiet click of irritation escaped her lips. The displeasure she had nurtured only moments ago slipped from her grasp like snow melting under sunlight.
The others didn't miss it. Smiles broke across their faces, amusement glittering in their eyes as they watched the exchange unfold.
Jasmine, catching their expressions, felt her annoyance spike again. She pushed past it and shifted her focus. "What happened there? How was the fight?"
Jane, who had been silent until now, answered promptly. "By the time we got to the ballroom, the fight was already over. We didn't catch much… just the blood mess they left behind. Oh, and you know Theodore? He actually dumped a bucket of ice water over himself."
"Oh…"
Nedrick leaned in quickly, seizing the chance to back Jane up. "See? If you had come with us, it would've been a waste of your time. More importantly, you would've missed out on slowly enjoying your favorite cake."
His eyes gleamed innocently as he spoke, but Jasmine wasn't fooled. Her displeasure wasn't over the fight, never was. It was that he had left her behind without even trying to wait, and she didn't like it.
Still, she chose to ignore it, at least outwardly. "That's disappointing," she murmured. She wanted to watch an interesting fight, not some bath show.
Her eyes narrowed on Nedrick, and she thought for a moment before dismissing whatever thought crossed her mind.
Meanwhile, Jane and Nedrick both nodded in agreement, while Raven only clicked his tongue and shot a sharp glance at his sister. He didn't like how Jane's eyes glowed with interest when she looked at Theo, too interested in Theo, that pitiful loser. The idea of his sister being drawn to someone like that churned his stomach.
William, meanwhile, gave no sign of reaction, his expression smooth and unreadable. And Anayah… she hadn't cared from the start. She showed no interest in fights that didn't involve her.
The moment stretched until Jasmine remembered something. She turned to William. His gaze had wandered to Anayah, lost in her beauty, but Jasmine's words pulled him back.
"William, aren't you disappointed?" she asked. "Your sister Lucillie and your brother Myrak both had Ivan Varkheil as their rival. Even your father and the older generations did. But you… You don't."
Her words struck closer than she knew. William had always wanted that rivalry, that clash with a Varkheil, Varkheil's dominance against Ardent's burning will. But Theo hadn't awakened. The chance had never come.
He exhaled slowly. "Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed. I wanted a Varkheil rival. But… aren't you all enough?"
His words carried a wry curve, wondering if the answer satisfied his battle hungry friends, but the honesty beneath his words was clear.
"Of course," Raven cut in, seizing the moment with his usual bravado. "Next time we duel, I'll beat you into the ground."
Laughter rippled through the group at his declaration, easy and unrestrained.
All except Anayah. She stood apart, her expression unchanged, untouched by the playful energy. Rivals weren't her concern. Her only contest was with the woman she had been yesterday. Her path was hers alone, a constant struggle against her own limits.
"Then let's end the night with a duel among ourselves," Jasmine suggested, eyes flashing as she looked around the group.
"Sure."Agreement rose at once, voices overlapping.
"Get ready, William, I will win."
"We will see." Raven declared, and William shrugged.
One by one, the assent echoed, sealing the promise
William looked at them, whom he considered as his friends, his rivals, and seeing their enthusiasm to fight, to grow strong. His heart resonated strongly with the Ardent's burning will, like an eternal flame. He wished they all would stay the same, happily.
William was nowhere near understanding fully what being an Ardent means, but he is willing to go even to hell to become a true Ardent flame, to protect.
'Even if Theodore were to awaken now,' William thought, 'he could never be my rival.'
With that certainty, he rose and followed his friends out.
Just then, a mechanical ring sounded in his mind, and a blue translucent screen manifested in front of him.
Seeing the familiar blue screen, he smiled.
"You will be with me, right?" He muttered in a very low voice that was impossible to hear by anyone, but the blue screen manifested again in front of him.
***
In the familiar, dimly lit room that radiated comfort, luxury, and warmth, everything a normal person might desire, a soon to be sixteen year old boy sat alone on a chaise longue armchair, his semi-long, regal black hair dripping water onto his bare shoulders.
His double pleated black pants clung to his skin, soaked through from the ice bath he had just left behind. His already pale skin, turning colorless from the blood loss and exhaustion, his skin slick with droplets, bore a map of old scars and fresh black-and-blue bruises.
His handsome face remained stoic, betraying no pain, only the stillness of someone lost in thought, a faint contemplative frown etched into his features.
"How… Did I do it?"
The words slipped out, calm.
Thalen felt today's fight was different; he was able to stand his ground against Marcus, who was enhancing his body with his wind elemental power or whatever he had done.
Thalen knew Marcus hadn't even used half of his full power, but still, it was a fight that felt rewarding.
Unknowingly, he was able to see the intent behind Marcus's attacks and react before they even came at him. Which was in itself a surreal experience.
But more importantly, the peace he hadn't felt in years hit him calmly and steadily, rapturing him whole.
However, he was a little frustrated because he didn't know how he was able to see the intent.
It felt like he was entranced in a trance like state and could sense Marcus's movements before they even began.
During the fight, his mind was in a jumble, and he was only able to stand because of the clarity he had gained from his outburst. Standing alone, ate away his mental power, as the strain on him was enormous.
So he failed in understanding how he had done it,
He forced himself to relive the fight. A bloody, brutal clash.
Thalen's wet hair fell across his pale face like the strands of a worn-out addict. Through them, hazel eyes flecked with green, his quiet eyes carrying a stubborn weight.
The fire that he had lost triggered again and was raging to rise once more, to go into that trance like state.
But he had failed…, failed to grasp anything.
Exhaustion soured up, and his thoughts slipped away.
His breaths came shallow, ragged, his heartbeat faltering with each pulse. What little color remained in his face drained, leaving him pale as a corpse. Then...
Silence,
His chest stilled, his hazel eyes dulled, and the last fragile thread of life is about to snap…
but then…