Shadow Rising - EDITED

Chapter Three

Zane wasn't sure of where he was in the forest, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. After what had happened the previous night, he automatically assumed this normal, sun-kissed spot in the forest was a secret trap set by Nicolette. It was a warm morning, to Zane's surprise. It was as if the frosty winter weather had disappeared.

The first thing Zane saw was his left hand tightly gripping the golden grass. Though it was smeared with blood, Zane could faintly make out a carving of a feather. In his hand. The blood was dry, but the feather was still there. Obviously it had scarred over, and there was no getting rid of it.

"Hey, you okay?" Someone asked from behind Zane.

Zane quickly stood up to see a man wearing a navy-blue leather jacket in front of him. The man looked to be around his age, and his voice sounded like it, too.

"Who are you?" Zane shouted.

"I'm Porter," the man said with a thick Scottish Highland accent. Porter stepped towards Zane.

"Stay away from me." Zane hissed. Porter backed away silently. His eyes glanced towards Zane's left hand, which was reaching for his dagger.

"Oh, God," Porter began, walking up to Zane despite his threats.

"What did you do with my dagger?" Zane snapped. Porter grabbed Zane's hand and stared at it. "Don't touch me!"

"I-I'm so sorry." Porter sighed. "You have the Mark of the Whispers, I can't believe I didn't see it earlier."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Zane growled.

"It means you're... How do I put this?" Porter released Zane's hand, which he instinctively covered with his other arm. "You're property of the Queen, basically."

"What?" Zane's voice cracked, and he coughed. "Are you trying to say I'm a servant to her now?"

"I've never had it before, but I heard about the side effects," Porter glanced around the clearing cautiously, then returned his gaze to Zane's. "People told me you become emotionally unstable, more than you already are, and your Shadow magic will backfire."

"Oh, well isn't that perfect!" Zane said sarcastically, emphasizing 'perfect'. He sighed and leaned against a tree.

"So, what are you Porter?" Zane asked after glancing at his bloody hand once more. "Are you a Wind, a Hill, a Wave?"

Porter shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Everyone knows when they're born." Zane questioned, sitting on the ground as if it were story time.

"I mean, I don't know." Porter said, trying to keep his irritation contained. He kneeled next to Zane.

"My father left before I was even born. All that I know about him is that he was one of the original Elementals. When I was ten, my mother found a new job in the Council and had to leave me on my own." Porter explained quietly.

"Maybe you're a Shade, like I am." Zane suggested, but Porter shook his head.

"With my hair and eye color, I look the most like a Wind. But my eyes still aren't as blue as a typical Wind."

It was undeniably true. Porter had side-swept cinnamon hair and medium-gray, glossy eyes. His hair didn't have the reddish tint Winds had, nor the blue overtone in his eyes that Winds had.

"You're just like my sister—" Zane stopped and stared ahead of him for a few seconds. Porter tilted his head at Zane.

"Oh my God, Kelly! Is she okay?" Zane yelled, abruptly standing up once more. He had completely forgotten about her.