Foretold Memories

Chapter Twenty Three

The glint of Ambrose's twin blades flying through the air alerts me to my imminent death.

Letting the haze of my power wash over me, my senses become a wealth of information to draw from. The world slows to the rhythm of my blood pulsing, just as it had the time with Dauson.

I see the trajectory of the golden blades that are keenly heading towards me. I spy Ambrose, smugly crouching on the ground. You won't beat me this time.

Despite the aches of my Ambrose-assaulted body, I force myself to fight until I've trained myself into the warrior that I once was. Over the time I spent without my memories, my body had lost the ability to withstand the fight that my skill-set wants to endure.

Feeling the haze begin to droop, I focus in on the blades that are now alarmingly close. I'm not going to be able to flit anywhere without being injured somehow. I mentally berate myself for my lack of focus.

With the image of my body impaled against the stone wall behind me, I envision the space before Ambrose, imagining that I could slap the smugness from his face.

I brace myself for the pain and close my eyes, hoping Ambrose will call the healers fast enough so I can forget the fact that he has bested me once again.

The feel of the wind brushing over me alerts me to the world returning to its regular speed, I fully expect the agony of a blade piercing flesh, and not the sound of metal and stone clashing.

"What in the name of seven hells did you just do?" Ambrose's bewildered voice booms.

Slowly opening my eyes, I find myself across the room, standing in front of Ambrose who has now stood up with an astonished expression on his face.

Woah...

In no world will I let this mystery get in the way of a good opportunity. I hear the echo of skin smacking skin before I feel the sting.

"What was that for!" Ambrose cradles his reddened cheek.

I roll my eyes, "That is for almost adding two more scars to the already large enough collection." 

Ambrose winces, from the realisation of almost impaling me or from him probing his cheek, I'm not sure.

"It's not like you can die."

I feel my eyes bulge, "It doesn't mean I want to try! I may be able to heal faster than the average bear, but I certainly don't want the scar that accompanies with the injury."

Ambrose's hands fly into the air in surrender. My heart twinges at the gesture. Ambrose is a constant reminder of Dauson, his humour and brotherly affection is uncanny.

"Okay, okay. But can we get back to what you just did? You basically teleported yourself across the room!"

I sense the flood of demanding questions and flee the room to Ambrose' verbal disappointment.

Walking down the empty halls, I stretch out my muscles, thinking over this new ability.

After the small increments of information that Blaine had been feeding me over the weeks, I knew it was paramount to regain the ability to defend myself with everything I've got.

Although, I had originally set out to regain the skills I once had, I've been discovering abilities that I didn't seem to be able to do before.

One example would be whatever just happened now.