SPRITES: Legacy of the Black Phoenix

Chapter 3: Brawlers' Ball

The boys started their warm-up tosses. Vidaj, who started at second base, watched the outfielders throw to the shortstop. From the outfield, the ball floated through the air and fell into the shortstop's glove in an unnatural way. Vidaj was the only one to notice it. The force that touched it had a familiar feeling to it. The shortstop, a raven-haired kid named Paul, threw the ball toward home plate where Felix caught it.

Felix then launched the ball back toward the outfield. The ball floated through the air as though something had been pulling on it mid air until it smacked the ground between Vidaj and Paul. They exchanged confused looks before Paul reached for the ball. It was the same force once again coursing through the ball. He wondered what was happening as the force then vanished yet again.

A loud voice emanated from the outfield. "How many times do we have to remind you that the grass isn't on our team, Felix?"

As the entire team cracked up, Felix looked out to the outfield and made out Ian. "It's my first throw, man. I just need a few more warm-up tosses. Besides, the sun was in my eyes."

"How was the sun in your eyes when it's so cloudy? Get your head in the game!"

The boys laughed again as Felix stuttered, "Shu-shu-shut up! It's just warm-ups anyway!"

As the two were arguing, Vidaj shifted his attention to right field, where Lance was jogging back and forth; he took five steps to the right then ten to the left. Over on the left field Blake was mirroring his brother's movements. Vidaj found the synergy between the twins to be amusing considering how different their personalities were off the field. He wanted to say something to them, but remembered that they hated when people referred to them as twins instead of individuals.

The two refused to interact with each other in school even though their schedules were identical. If it weren't for the fact that they shared the same last name. Vidaj wouldn't have guessed they were related at all.

Felix stepped onto the mound when Lance yelled, "Are we really going to send this trash out to pitch for our first game?"

Felix turned around. "What do you mean?" he yelled. "Why wouldn't you want the best pitcher to play in the first game? I've been working on my curveball. Wait till you see it. It's awesome!"

"You mean that hanging, breaking ball?" Lance laughed. "There's no way you're serious right now."

Coach Jensen, a man in his early thirties with a mustache, yelled from the bench, "Can you two just keep your mouths shut and play?"

Felix threw some warm-up pitches, tuning out the coach and everyone else. There were only a handful of viewers at the game, which the boys found weird because they had won so often that they figured the community would have loved to support a winning team. This had been going on for several years to the point where they were numb to the lack of support.

A few minutes later, the game began, and a short, skinny boy in a black-and-yellow uniform entered the batter's box. The boy gripped a long bat that was nearly the same size as him. Felix licked the top of his teeth and stuck his tongue out toward home plate. Shaking with nerves, the kid held his bat up. As soon as he looked up and made eye contact with Felix, his demeanor changed. A confident aura emanated in the way that he waved his bat toward Felix. Vidaj glanced at Felix, who winked at him and mouthed, "Easy."

Felix then wound up and delivered the pitch, which the batter scorched over the third baseman and into the outfield toward Lance. Lance raced toward the ball, the ground pushing him forward. His movements were so smooth that only Vidaj could notice that Lance was using his powers.

To everyone else, it appeared as though he were just sprinting toward the ball. Lance scooped up the ball with his glove, then launched a powerful throw toward Vidaj, who covered second base. The Wolverine player, who had made it to first base, stared into the outfield, his mouth hanging open. "Whoa, that guy's really fast," he told the first baseman. Lance tipped his hat back toward the player on first base as a form of mock gesture for his efforts.