Element

9-Ambuscade

Ambuscade: an ambush.

"Your stance isn't correct!" Ember had been yelling impatiently at Aero for the past two hours. He was losing his patience rapidly and was about to say screw it. Aero was helpless. His posture was sagging, knees buckled, and his stance wasn't balanced.

Ember didn't know how to get it through the Aeries' thick skull; that this was hopeless. Two hours of training and they had gotten no where.

The training room was spacious with the walls colored gray and equipment lined up on the walls or in a storage closet. They had weights, boxing gloves, mats, and more. On the mats they had soccer goals, targets, dummies, and even hurdle rings to practice with your aim.

The room was made of steel as well, to ensure nothing would be damaged badly. You could chuck rocks and spit fireballs 'til your heart's content. Or in Aero's case, create a windstorm or tornado. Aero was determined to never give up. Ember wasn't too keen on wasting his time training him, though.

"Feet shoulder length apart. Knees bent, back straight. Make your enemy fear you just by the way you present yourself. If you don't look intimidating, you won't be intimidating." Ember circled around him like a hawk, eyeing his every move. Once Aero was in the correct stance, Ember tossed him boxing gloves. Aero put them on hastily, strapping them to his wrists. "Now, do not strike until they're open. When you find a spot to strike, deliver it through. Keep your stance and ease into the punch, then pull through or it'll have no effect." Ember swung a right hook on Aero's ribs as an example. Aero cowered back, wincing at the pain in his side.

"What the hell was that for?" Aero's teeth clenched, hissing at the Firing who looked smug.

"You were open. An easy opportunity for your opponent to strike," explained Ember. Aero rolled his eyes and dared to make a direct hit to the Firing's gut when he was laughing. His laughter was cut short, hunching over at the pain in his stomach. He glared up at Aero from on his knees in pain. Aero was snickering.

Ember smirked and darted his leg out to trip the Aeries. Aero's knees buckled and he stumbled forward, tumbling to the ground next to Ember with a gasp. He landed with a thud and then the two burst into an uncontrollable laughter, tears welling up in their eyes. It was a rare moment, but it was beautiful. The two swore to never speak of it again.

"Wow, hate to break up whatever moment you two were having, but Fotia would like to speak with you two," The bitterness in Cyrus' words didn't go unnoticed. He briefly glances over at Ember, eyes raking in his shirtless body, soaking up every little curve before snapping his attention back to Aero. He dismisses himself from the room before Aero or Ember can reply.

The two were confused as to why Fotia would want to see them, and maybe a little scared as well. Fotia Esparza was not what you would describe as warm and fuzzy. She was like a lion or tiger. Beautiful and graceful in every way, but ferocious. One wrong move and you were her next meal roasted over an open fire. Literally.

Aero and Ember walked down the west wing corridor with an eery silence. It was slightly awkward, but as soon as they reached the Constituency's meeting room, the awkwardness drifted away. Fotia, Stream, and the two other Constituency members were sat at a long mahogany table. The architecture of the room had somewhat of a Greek vibe to it. Paintings with crying colors, every little detail frozen on the canvas, were arranged against the beige walls. Ancient vases of precise detail adorned various plant species. Vines spiraled down the long columns surrounding the windows. Aero felt like he'd walked into the Renaissance. A lump formed in his throat, palms sweating.