The Pack and Sidemen Oneshots

Pitch, Vikklan, WoofASF- Red vs Silver Part 1

Mitch's P.O.V.

I shuddered, feeling a chill run down my body as a nymph ran past me. She ignored me as all silvers did, I was clearly marked as a red with my red uniform and wrist band and I was carrying a massive box of fabrics, to be taken to one of the stalls where some reds were working.

Working in the palace was tough, I did all of the odd jobs bringing things back and forth and I was one of the hundreds of behind the scenes servants the silvers never saw, making sure that everything ran smoothly. Not that I had much choice after all, if I hadn't been working by the time I was 18, almost a year ago now, then I would have been conscripted and sent off to fight in the war. I most certainly would never have returned.

Some red children ran around my feet, most likely the kids of high up reds who lived and worked in the palace; they would be guaranteed jobs in the future and would never have to worry about the horrors of war. One of them almost tripped me up but I gracefully stepped around him, my reflexes doing me good once again.

Everyone knew I had good reflexes and my nickname back at home had been gazelle because of how graceful I was, and on multiple occasions people had compared me to a swift, silvers known for their speed, reflexes and cat-like qualities.

One of the silver officers eyed me as I slipped through the servant gate after dropping off the box but I flashed him my ID card before heading down to the kitchen. It was bustling, even more so than usual because of the number of silvers in the building, all of them here for Queenstrial.

The last one had taken place a few years before I was born, I was a similar age to the prince, Prince Preston the second of house Calore, he was a burner, a controller of fire, like all of his family and he had been born less than a year after his parents wedding.

He was now 19, the age at which he could be betrothed, and that night Queenstrial would take place where all of the silver girls of marriageable age, basically anyone over 13, would show off their power in an arena. They would choose the strongest daughter, the one who would create powerful and healthy children to rule over the next generation.

I sighed as I was called to take yet another box of waste out the back, I lugged it onto a wagon before hauling it through the crowds of people. The smell of delicious food, the richest and best food in the country, made my stomach growl but I shrugged it off. It was going to be a long night and although I would get a tiny break for a meal, I knew I would never be eating any of that food sitting on tables just over my shoulder.

"Mitch!" Someone hissed, making me spin. "Oi! Over here!"

My eyes found the person who was talking, a small cinnamon skinned boy waving his arms frantically at me from down a side hall. I dumped the cart and followed him, catching up with him in no time due to my speed and grabbing onto his arm.

"What do you want Vikk!" I growled, watching to make sure no one was following us. "I was working and you probably should be too! This is one of the busiest nights of our lives!"

He shrugged and laughed, tugging me down the hall and out into the gardens, where he lead me through a maze of hedges with no explanation.

"Come on Mitch! You gotta see this!"

We stumbled to a stop right on the edge of the huge training arena, a place built for silver teens to harness their power before they either went off on military campaigns or joined their fathers in court, if they were male of course. The girls were expected to stay behind, learn household chores and eventually get married, most higher silver girls were married before 21.

This area, of course, was only for the high silvers, the rich and powerful, the ones from the high houses. There were common silvers, merchants, traders and intellectuals who lived further out in the city whose powers weren't quite as strong but they still made me jealous. They didn't have to worry about being sent off to war, if their family was going hungry or if they were going to get a letter sent from the king giving us "his deepest condolences", thanking a relative for their sacrifice.

"Look Mitch!" Vikk pointed down into the arena, where I could see three teenagers talking quite loudly. I was about to ask what the point of this was when Rob, another friend and another red, snuck up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders.

I shrieked in surprise and then clamped my hand over my mouth, the arena was open topped and the boys inside could hear me, judging by the way their head swung in our direction. They couldn't see us though, and I counted my blessings for that.

"What do you want Rob! You could have made me fall in!" I hissed, sitting a little way back from the edge of the steep drop into the arena. "And what's the point of this Vikk? They're silvers, nothing new." He shook his head, laughing.

"Look closer! It's the prince Mitch, ya know, the prince!" I squinted into the arena and jumped back when I saw one boy, the shortest of the group, throw a fireball at the target on the opposite wall. He was right, only the royal family were burners and there was no one else in a similar age range that it could be.

"Who are the others then?" I asked, curious. I didn't keep up much with the gossip around the palace but Vikk and Rob did, they could always fill me in.

"It must be the silk, the tall blonde one I think and the other one... what's he? Oh yeah the water nymph! They're the princes closest friends, must be letting off steam before he gets betrothed." Vikk said, eyeing the boys below us.

I watched as the blonde one, the silk, flickered in and out of my vision as he the air around him rippled, creating a cloak of invisibility. His powers must be immensely strong to be able to hold the cloak so well, I thought to myself, watching the show they were giving us.

Rob grinned, his hands on the grass. I watched as a flower sprung up between his fingers. Normally someone would write it off as it already being there and just having been trapped, but I knew differently. Rob had this way with nature just like I had my reflexes and how Vikk seemed to look subtly different every time I saw him. He made little changes to his appearance, but I knew he could do more.

I was so focused on the boys in the arena and my friends that I didn't hear the guard coming up behind us, the butt of his rifle towards us. He went for me first by pure luck, for him not us, and the force of the metal hitting my head sent me flying backwards, over the ledge and into the arena before I could react.

There was a blood curling scream from Vikk and he and Rob soon came tumbling after, all of us hitting the sandy floor with a crunch. I flickered in and out of consciousness, but the one thing I did see was the boy with the fire hands crouching over me, someone else shaking my shoulder.

"Are they alright?" A concerned voice asked. My eyes flickered closed, blackness threatening to take over. "Someone get a medic!!"

And that was the last thing I heard, right before I passed out.