Calluna

Chapter Eleven

The Flower

A blade whizzes past my cheek. I duck out of the way just in time. The blade bounces off the force field behind me and lands on the ground with a loud clank. A sword this time approaches my stomach and I fall to the ground, rolling over myself just in time not to be impaled in the stomach.

I create a force field around myself and stay seated, watching as Talia throws sword after sword, knife after knife, all of them falling to the ground around me. I focus intently on the force field, hoping for it not to slip, which would cause me to be skewered with a hundred pieces of metal. Although, I don't know if my focus even helps the shield. When Alder—the force field creator—taught it to me a few days ago, it came naturally, without me even telling my body to create it. It was simply a sudden shift in the air, a sudden shift in the flow of my blood, a small quiver of my senses. If danger comes, my body naturally reacts by deflecting the harm.

Talia finally runs out of metal on the rack beside her to throw my way, so she stops, although she could continue by simply manipulating the metal she's already thrown. She turns away, not satisfied that I'm still breathing. I wonder why Instructor made us battle when it's common knowledge that Talia will happily rip out my heart if given the chance.

I stand as my force field lifts, and I hear her shallow breathing once again. I grab a particularly intimidating looking axe from the pile of discarded metal and lift it over my head. I chuck it towards Talia's body, knowing she'll stop it before it hits. Before it can even land on its mark, it curves slightly and falls pathetically three feet to the left of her. I inhale sharply, my face reddening.

Alder's force field lifts from around us and Desta—the strength manipulator—climbs up the arena stairs, coming to put an arm around my shoulder. "You might have intimidating powers, Luna. But your aim is in need of massive improvement."

"That's what you get when you fight someone who puts in hard work, instead of someone who's just handed abilities left and right." Talia throws a small knife towards my head. I don't flinch, and the knife stops a centimeter before digging into my eye. She laughs and allows it to drop to the ground, but nothing about it is funny.

I didn't ask for this, I want to yell at her. Take my powers if you want them. Bring back my father and every slain villager and let me live a normal life. Give me dark brown eyes and I will love my life much more than I will ever love this horrid, competitive, royal, hateful life. Give me the simplicity, the warmth, the hardworking yet satisfying life of a villager.

"You are doing well, Calluna," Instructor says, her voice calm, as if she doesn't hear the bantering and the harsh words. "You are progressing much faster than anyone here did when they were learning such skills."

"We were also toddlers when we learned basics," Talia spits and then walks away, suddenly too good for us. I'm beginning to see how good of a couple Atreus and Talia would make. They're both rotten to the core. Neither of them has a heart. They are perfect for each other.

"The rest of the day, I want you to work on aim. All weapons. Desta will be an excellent mentor. She can throw any two-hundred-pound man across this room." For a second, I think I see Instructor smile, but she turns away before I can tell if it's real.

Desta and I walk to the target range with a rack of every weapon I've seen the others train with. A bow and arrow, a javelin, a machete, a spear. I don't even know the names of everything I see. Desta demonstrates her aim first with a spear, making a perfect strike in the center of one of the circle training targets. My shot fails miserably, missing the target and instead connecting with the wall.