A Darker Shade of Sorcery - - (leveled readers .txt) 📗

ancient,” said Cera.

Evan noticed sparks of anger in Cera’s eyes.

“But I’ve only recently been able to perform magic. The Masters haven’t even figured out what magic type I am yet. I might be a hybrid Caustic and Serene, they’re rare but not unheard of. For ages I was terrified I didn’t have sorcery at all. Father was livid. I was going crazy seeing everyone else training and watching sorcery being used daily.”

“That’s rough,” Evan said.

Cera giggled unexpectedly. “Don’t feel bad for me. I might not have been able to do magic training, but Urkzal trained me since I was six. I could kick both your asses with any weapon.”

“Well perhaps we’ll have to test that soon.” Jed wagged his eyebrows up and down again.

Evan desperately wanted to say something to impress her. “So…” he began.

Cera turned her brilliant emerald eyes on him and he lost the ability to speak for a second. “So.” He repeated.

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She continued to stare at him. “Um, yeah, well, we’re, me and Jed that is… oh and Brooke too, and Elijah, you know him, we were thinking of going to the city, you know, to see it, and the like, we haven’t--yet,” he finished lamely.

He highly expected Cera thought he was simple minded after that speech. Man, I’m such an idiot.

“I think my friend here was inviting you to join us,” Jed explained to Cera, as if he was the translator and Evan spoke a different language.

Cera smiled brightly. “Yeah okay, I can show you around if you want. I’ll show you my house too.”

“Awesome,” said Jed.

“Yeah, awesome,” Evan echoed stupidly.

Meanwhile, the Venators around them were squabbling over the TV again.

“No, put it on the Mertiger documentary,” Jimmy Revlin squeaked.

“Oi, I've got a bet on three Unicorns in the races today, I need the sports channel.”

“Aha, found him,” Jed shouted, pointing at the Wendigo in his book, he'd been hiding in the city plaza between two Minotaurs.

*

“Haha, you so fancy her,” Jed said for the fifth time in their Archives session.

“No I don’t” Evan hissed.

“Your face was hilarious.” Jed smirked. “And when you started speaking. That, my bashful friend, was mythological.”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry mate,” said Jed, still chuckling.

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“You didn’t help things, coming on to her like you did.”

Jed looked affronted. “I was only messing, if you like her I’m not gunna’ step on your toes. You’ve got to admit though. We’ve got more chance seeing Gettelung belly-dancing then either of us bagging that gorgeous sheila.”

Evan privately agreed.

“I told you I’m not interested, I just had a stomach ache is all.”

“Stomach ache!” Jed roared with mirth.

“Jed Jagger,” Gettelung scolded. “Concentrate young man.”

As Evan continued jotting down notes from Gettelung’s lecture, Jed leaned over his shoulder, grinning mischievously. “Sexy Cera did invite us to her house though.

Maybe she does like me?”

“You! Why not me?” Evan asked angrily.

“Haha, you do like her.”

Evan tried his best to give Jed a death-stare but then broke into laughter himself as Jed hooted in glee.

“JAAAAGGERRRR,” Gettelung bellowed.

*

Thoughts of Arantay had occupied Brooke’s mind since their first training session and returned now as she ran her lap of the stronghold. Sweat soaked her body and plastered hair to her head. She failed to repress a shudder, just thinking back to Tay’s light touch on her cheek, her neck.

She'd heard so many rumours about him, but none seemed believable. Then again neither did Veneseron.

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A vampire, a super-human, an alien, she’d even heard Seth Silcorn swear Arantay was a robot. All scenarios were ludicrous, and yet it would explain how different he was compared to everyone else. The raw strength he exuded, whilst intimidating, was alluring. His blood-red eyes should be bizarre or creepy, yet Brooke was mesmerized by them.

The stronghold's mischievous ways had offered some distraction. Before she'd started her run, the floors had turned slippery, trying to make her fall. Even the castle walls were in on it. One hallway had walls sticky as glue one day and not the next.

The floor os one passage would turn bouncy like a trampoline, but only on a Tuesday.

“Trampoline Tuesday,” the Realmers dubbed it.

Brooke thought the Fortress was like a naughty child sometimes. When it wanted to, it could lock you in the bathroom or turn mirrors black. Once, Xavier went to sit on a sofa and it swallowed him whole, depositing him into one of the forest ponds.

He'd returned to the Fortress, dripping wet and furious.

The Veneseron fields also played tricks, like forming holes when you weren't looking so you fell into them, or when a tree with orange leaves got up and walked over to a clump of blue leaved trees, just to be awkward.

“Run, run, as fast as you can,” a voice disrupted her thoughts.

Brooke turned to see Sintian Stray leaning against the castle wall. Unease ran down her spine as she met his gaze. His eyes were blacker than eyes had a right to be.

“What do you want?”

“So rude, Mashok. I was merely…observing you.” He blinked lazily, his eyes like tethered beasts as they swept over her.

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Something about Sintian reminded Brooke eerily of her brother. Adam had given off the same unsettling demeanour. Yet the stares Adam had given her had always been of hatred. Stray's stare had hatred too, but it was mixed with… was it lust?

“Well, don’t,” she snapped. “And don't call me Mashok. We aren't friends.”

She resumed her run, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible.

It was the first time she'd spoken to Sintian and hoped it was the last. As Stray left her mind, images of Arantay came rushing back, clear and as beautiful as ever. Before she knew it, it was time to meet him.

She hurried down to the training courtyard, feeling both excited and nervous. But when she entered the weaponry square her feelings melted into a wave of jealousy.

Arantay was already there, sparring with another girl, Cera.

They were wielding enchanted swords magnificently. Quicker than she could follow they danced and leapt. Brooke was impressed but at the same time couldn’t help feeling disappointed. She was supposed to be training with Tay, not Cera.

Cera was faring well against him. She was fast, and very skilled, but not inhumanly so like Arantay.

He disarmed Cera with a flash of movement and before she could take another step his sword was at her throat.

He smiled his exquisite smile as the mock-battle ended. “One day you’ll beat me, but not today.” Arantay lowered his sword and bowed.

A giggling Cera bowed back before retrieving her weapon.

“One day,” she echoed, “I’ll get you.”

“I look forward to it.”

Arantay noticed Brooke standing on the edge of the courtyard then, but as he moved toward her Lyella assailed him.

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“Wow, you were amazing Arantay,” she gushed.

Brooke gritted her teeth as Lyella grinned deviously at her.

Arantay nodded his head in thanks. “Cera too, don’t you think?”

Lyella didn’t even look at Cera. “Yeah great.”

She stroked Tay’s arm. “But wow, I'd love a private, one on one training session. I think you could teach me a lot, maybe I could teach you a few things too.”

Arantay frowned. “I'm only supposed to help the lower ranks.”

“Well, our sessions could be…off the record.”

She knew what Lyella was trying to do, but Brooke refused to feel jealous over her.

“Maybe,” Arantay muttered. “I've got to train Brooke now though.”

“Of course,” said Lyella, “the little runt looks like she needs all the training she can get.” Lyella dropped her smile as she slunk away.

“Sorry about that.” Arantay grimaced.

“No worries,” said Brooke. “I was paying more attention to your sparring. I hope you don’t plan on fighting me like that.”

“No. Cera’s been in weapon training for years, I know she can handle me.”

“I bet she can,” Brooke muttered under her breath.

“What?” Cera asked.

“Oh nothing,” she replied hastily.

She noticed Arantay smile, yet she was sure her words had been too quiet for him to hear, not unless he had phenomenal senses.

“Thanks again Tay,” Cera called as she departed, Arantay waved as she left, watching her go. Brooke went to stand in front of him, wanting his attention to be on her instead.

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“So, Cera and Lyella, ex girlfriend's then?”

“Hmm, oh no, I don’t have girlfriends.”

“Like, not ever?” Brooke was crestfallen, but hid it well.

His face betrayed no emotion. “There have been some, in the past, many years ago.”

“What do you mean many years ago? You don’t look older than nineteen.”

“Enough of my social life, let’s make a start on the training.”

Brooke had no choice but to let Tay change the subject. As he passed her the wooden sword their hands touched briefly; it was like receiving a small electric shock.

She couldn’t believe she’d acted so jealously when seeing him with Cera. It wasn’t like Arantay was hers to be jealous over. She was acting as bad as Lyella over Lok.

Their sparring started similar to yesterday, Brooke swinging the sword and Tay dodging easily, but then it was time to work on her footwork.

Arantay stood behind her, touching both her elbows with his hands. The warmth and closeness of his body was almost too much. She found it strange that his body was so warm when the skin itself was cold.

He held her from behind, keeping her steady as he guided her through the correct foot movements when sparring. At one time his hand grazed her leg while urging her forwards, her hair stood on end and goose bumps erupted on her flesh.

Her breathing became shallow as her heart hammered. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore he stepped away.

“Let’s see what you’ve learned.” A ghost of a smile hooked his lips as he circled her, sword held high. “Come at me.”

She’d been so distracted, Brooke could barely remember what he’d told her.

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This time Arantay fought back, though his sword only licked out occasionally, and painstakingly slow compared to how he’d sparred with Cera.

Wood knocked against wood as their swords clattered together.

“Always look into your opponent’s eyes when you fight, you can predict his next move.” Arantay stared into her own eyes, the force of his gaze making Brooke freeze.

Why did he have to say this now? She'd been trying not to stare into his eyes. How was she supposed to train with such an off-putting distraction? But, she reflected, she’d much rather train with the distraction of Arantay than without.

“I can guess every move you make, just by your eyes.”

He'd been looking at her eyes all this time! She felt hot all of a sudden, and it wasn’t from her exertions in training.

She forced herself to look into those two startling rubies, trying to figure out what he intended next. He was making it obvious, staring at the place he was about to lunge before doing