Eight of Hearts: The Vision - Book 2

Chapter 21

The sound of the cheering crowd, the stamping feet, the outraged cries of those who lost their gambles, all shook the coliseum to its core. But despite the chaos outside, there was an even greater chaos occurring in the barracks the eight friends shared. It should have been empty, as they all watched the showdown between Jonas, Bryce, Rhea, and Chad. But there was one boy with pure white hair who had receded from the excitement to rest.

Isaac Matthews, who's smile never seemed to falter, lay on the floor beside his bunk, gripping his head in his hands. His head throbbed painfully as he tried to prevent what he knew was about to happen. With his psychic power, there was a cost. That cost was always physical, varying from a headache, to nausea, to hunger, to a full bladder. And that price was sometimes paid long before, or even long after his power had been used. Now it seemed that the time had come to redeem the price he had paid when he had fallen asleep halfway up the rock-climbing wall in the first round. And despite his best efforts, there was nothing he could do to stop the vision that rushed into his mind.

Bryce Sheffield stood alone on the battlefield, ignored by the people that fought around him. His face held an expression of despair as he watched ally and enemy alike fall and turn to dust.

"Why?"

The only word he spoke echoed flatly across the war-ravaged plains. His attention was drawn to a large barrier of light that stretched from one end of the sky to the other. A wound had opened up in the barrier, and through it the dust of the dead was drawn in, until only Bryce remained.

Then with a terrible rending noise, the barrier ripped apart, and the shadow that had been trapped behind it surged toward Bryce. Weapons of all shapes and sizes formed and dissipated on the surface of the crushing storm. Faces flitted in and out of the dark mist; faces of people he knew. It was the culmination of madness given shape.

Amid the howling rage of the black wave was the repeated question: "why?"

And then Bryce was crushed under the wave, and died.

"Alright, they're wrapping things up," Gabe whispered as he and Cecil slowly worked their way through the tunnels beneath the coliseum. "We should hurry up if we want to avoid getting caught."

"And you are sure the Blade of Rifts is being kept down here?" Cecil asked for the fifth time since they began their trek.

Gabe grunted in annoyance, but chose to answer the question again anyway. "I told you, I saw it myself when they arrested James. They are afraid of it, since they don't know how it works; they think it's a Herrenvolk relic, so they aren't taking any chances with it."

"Ah, yes, the sight. Forgive me but it's hard to imagine you can see anything while wearing those tinted eye glasses, let alone what is happening where you are not," Cecil commented. "And why are you bringing me on this little escapade? Surely one of the others would be a better fit."

Gabe was silent for a long time, his expression difficult to read in the dim artificial light of the tunnels. "You're an illusionist, aren't you?" Gabe finally said. "You're the only one I have trouble seeing. It's like you're just a shadow instead of--" Gabe cut himself off before he could finish the thought. "Sorry, I didn't mean--"

"Think nothing of it," Cecil said with a smile. "You are a very perceptive young man, and you should be proud of your talents. Yes, I am an illusionist as you say, although my talent is little more than parlour tricks compared to what you are capable of." Cecil tapped his cane against the floor as he walked, as though he were feeling his way through the dark halls. "I merely assumed you would have already handled this on your own with your prodigious abilities."