The bell rang, and I waited for April.
Her hair was tied into a long braided ponytail, her purple shirt bright against white cargo pants and purple-and-white sneakers. The outfit was supposed to be baggy, but puberty had other plans. The purple bookbag sealed it—purple was definitely her color.
Daniel walked beside her, wearing a blue sweatsuit and white sneakers, a brown bookbag slung over his shoulder. He caught my eye, brow raised.
“What are you doing here?” he whispered.
Before I could answer, April turned.
“Daniel, who are you talking to?”
“No one.” He walked away with her. She didn’t even look back.
What about yesterday? She said she wanted to see me again. I guess not. She probably liked Daniel. Maybe she was feeling guilty—like I should.
The clock read 9:21. Gym next. Great. I’d already embarrassed myself with April and made Daniel uncomfortable. Perfect day.
Then I saw Jessica and John. They hugged in the hallway—quick, innocent—but my stomach twisted anyway. Our hug wasn’t like that.
I stepped closer, but the world blurred. The walls, the crowd, even the sound—all washed away into blinding white. Then, darkness.
A voice cut through.
“Master, wake up.”
I opened my eyes. Oya stood in front of me—robes of red and violet swaying like storm clouds, the buffalo headdress glowing faintly in the morning light.
We’d taken shelter in a small cave, probably a fox den. Oya had stood watch all night, claiming spirits like her didn’t need rest. Must be nice.
I stretched, the dull ache from being hit by a car still pulsing through my ribs. I went back to relieve myself. Oya turned her back automatically.
“Thank you,” I muttered, finishing and pulling my flap up.
“You seemed troubled in your sleep, master.” Her voice was calm but carried real concern. It reminded me of Mom. Would I ever see her or Dad again?
“No, just… dreamed I was home,” I said.
“Well,” Oya said, her gaze sharp, “you’ll have to worry about that later. We’re being followed.”
I sighed. “Maybe tell me before the next fight.”
Her lips twitched into a smile. “You handled yourself well last night. I wanted to see what kind of mage I serve.”
“You tested me?” I began—but stopped. A silhouette appeared at the cave entrance.
She was pale, thin, and trembling, her tattered poncho soaked with snow.
“H-hi… I’m Brenda,” she said weakly before collapsing to one knee.
I rushed forward, but she flinched back.
“Don’t touch me!” she cried, eyes wild with fear.
A shimmer of heat rippled beside her, and a figure stepped out—skin glistening like molten bronze, one eye glowing red.
“Forgive my master,” he said, bowing slightly. “She hasn’t eaten for days. I’ve been sustaining her with my mana, but my reserves are nearly gone.”
Oya appeared beside me, wary. I nodded, and she relaxed slightly.
“I don’t have food,” I said, “but Oya can fish for us.”
Oya’s eyes said This better be worth it, but she left anyway.
“Thank you, master,” she said telepathically. “If trouble comes, I’ll return.”
Brenda huddled near the small fire. Snow fell harder outside.
“Why not stay in town?” I asked.
“I can’t. I’m… different. Like you.” She hesitated. “This is Ifrit.”
Her companion nodded. “Her Piece. Fire Class.” His voice was tired, flickering like an ember about to die.
“Oya’s Electric Class,” I said. “She mentioned danger sensing.”
Ifrit studied me, unimpressed. “So, you’re untrained. The Electric types are powerful, but unstable without mana regulation. When your Piece overextends, you both suffer. The link goes both ways.”
Brenda looked down. “Ifrit and I went to a tavern once,” she said quietly. “The owner gave me water since I had no money. Some men offered… to help.”
Ifrit’s jaw tensed. “She refused. They didn’t take it well. She commanded me to defend her. Their heat became her shield.” His eyes flickered with guilt. “They froze solid.”
The firelight caught Brenda’s tears as she whispered, “I still hear them scream.”
I clenched my fist. “That’s not your fault.”
Before Ifrit could answer, Oya’s voice returned to my mind.
They’ve found us.
A massive figure stepped into the cave, shaking snow from his shoulders. His aura was heavy—earthy, oppressive. Around his neck hung skulls, real ones, their hollow eyes glowing faintly.
Behind him, a man in a British officer’s coat followed, moving with calm precision.
“Hercules,” the officer said in a crisp accent, “show the rook her place. I’ll handle the mages.”
The giant’s fists clenched, the ground trembling beneath him.
Oya appeared beside me, lightning already crackling at her fingertips.
Brenda gasped. “That’s—”
“Lieutenant Andy Bacon,” the officer said, smiling faintly. “Mage of the Tiger. Her Majesty’s Army.”
I froze. The spectral outline of a tiger flared around him—orange energy with black streaks coiling like muscles. His pupils narrowed to slits.
Andy’s calm tone cut through the crackle of mana. “Surrender, and I might only break your legs.”
Hercules slammed his hands into the floor, ripping up a massive stone and throwing it like a cannonball. Oya deflected it with a storm gust, but the shockwave flung Brenda and Ifrit into the wall.
I turned toward Andy, but he moved faster—tiger reflexes, a blur of orange. I barely saw the punch before I was slammed into the ground. My rifle skidded away.
“You’re no soldier,” Andy said, stepping closer. “Just a frightened child pretending to be a mage.”
Oya shot lightning, but Andy dodged, his spectral claws shredding the air. Hercules caught Ifrit mid-flame, crushing him into the dirt. The fire spirit screamed as his flames dimmed to smoke.
Brenda’s power flared for an instant—Ifrit’s aura reignited, brighter—but it burned her too. She collapsed, clutching her chest.
Andy turned to me. “You mages think power makes you equal. It doesn’t. It only reminds us who deserves to wield it.”
I grabbed my rifle, chambered a shot, and fired. The bullet hit his knee—sparks, no blood. His tiger aura had hardened into energy armor.
He smiled, teeth glowing white through the haze. “Now you’ve made me hunt.”
He lunged. Pain exploded as my ankle twisted. I screamed, hitting the cave floor. He grabbed my head and slammed it once, twice—my vision blurring.
Through the haze, I saw Hercules pinning Ifrit and Brenda, the ground cracking beneath them. Oya struggled to rise, her lightning flickering weakly.
Andy crouched over me, voice low. “Watch. It’s the last lesson you’ll ever learn.”
My world pulsed red and white. The air hummed with pressure. I thought it was the storm, but then I felt it—Brenda’s mana spiking, wild, unrestrained.
Her eyes glowed crimson. The firelight bent around her, her trembling hand raised toward Ifrit.
“Don’t touch him!”
The cave exploded in red flame.
Hercules was thrown backward into the stone. Andy’s tiger aura flickered as a boulder smashed into him, driving him to the ground.
Oya caught me before I hit the floor. Her voice was distant thunder.
“You did well, master. But this fight isn’t over.”
The world went black.