Page 126 of A Blackened Bond

Was it the beast’s strange sludge? Had I gotten some of its foul blood on me?

I twisted my arm around to see it better, my fingers brushing against the black substance that was now sitting flush against my skin. It feels hard and cold to the touch, almost like metal.

My gaze narrows as I begin rubbing at the area, but the strange substance doesn’t budge. I reach for the small towel beside the sink, ready to scrub it away harder, when a more potent dizzy spell hits me and has me stumbling forward.

I grab the doorframe to stop myself from falling and hitting the ground. And while trembling, I somehow make my way out of the bathroom and toward my bed.

I reach it just as I collapse, a heavy feeling pulling me down and weighing on top of me as darkness pulls me under.

An unnatural bright light shines around me as I open my eyes and find myself surrounded by large oak trees. Wasn’t I just in bed? How could I be in a forest?

I gaze around me, green trees and soft sunlight flickering from every direction.

This had to be a dream. It felt too good and too serene for it not to be.

The sun streams through the trees' leaves from above, filling the forest around me with a serene atmosphere. Laughter rings out from somewhere nearby.

I follow the sound, almost being pulled toward it, and make my way into a small forest clearing. The sound of tricklingwater and birds singing flows all around me as three young children enter the small green space.

An older adolescent girl, a slightly younger boy, and a small child half their size walk toward the centre of the clearing. Each one has varying shades of blue eyes and auburn or red locks.

The smallest girl clutches the young boy’s fingers as he gently moves her toward a fallen tree stump off to the side of the space. He places her on top of it, handing her a small woollen doll before whispering in her ear. A small smile stretches her cheeks with whatever words he’s spoken, brightening her face as she happily nods to him.

I make my way closer, slow so as not to scare them. But as I stand in the open, just metres from them, I realise that they don’t see me.

I call and shout out to them, but no sound leaves my lips. I begin to wave my hands around, but they don’t even glance my way. Do they really not see me? Is this some kind of strange dream?

The boy leaves the youngest girl's side and returns to the older girl. Her soft blue eyes narrow playfully at him as she throws him a wooden sword. He catches it with ease, gripping it between his hands and taking a familiar stance.

The girl suddenly lunges toward the boy, with no warning, as her weapon meets his with a hard thud. He stumbles backward with her strike, his hands shaking slightly before he finds his resolve and steadies himself. He grips his wooden sword tighter and runs toward her, meeting her head-on as they clash back and forth.

They spar throughout the clearing, movements far too quick and adept for kids their age. They clash back and forth, neither tiring as they relentlessly attack each other.

The older girl seems to have the advantage most of the time, pushing him back and sending him stumbling with each fiercestrike she throws his way. Her ability and experience is more evident in her quick and strategic movements around him.

A light grin coats her lips as she knocks him over with her next attack, her brow raised as she chuckles watching speckles of mud coat his hands and knees.

He lets out a hard huff before grabbing his wooden sword beside him. His expression becomes frustrated and angry as he pulls himself up, and they begin to circle each other.

His attacks become more fierce, the frustration on his face bleeding into his attacks. The older girl dips and dives, dodging every attack with ease.

She quickly leaps forward and, in one swift move, brings her wooden sword down on him. The sword in his hand cracks and splinters with the force of the hit, sending him tumbling into a small, jagged tree stump behind him.

The small girl jumps down from her stump, but the older girl raises her hand to stop her. They both freeze, watching the boy as he pulls himself up with a large cut running down his forearm from hitting the jagged wood below.

The little girl whimpers, but the older girl smiles, watching on as the young boy’s blood darkens before quickly hardening.

His eyes widen slightly before a knowing grin tilts his lips.

“About time, Lu,” the older girl says, discarding her own wooden sword to the ground as she raises her two arms up and toward him.

On each of her wrists sits a black mark, an upside-town thin crescent shape with a line protruding from each side.

Her grin broadens as her eyes glint a brighter blue. Black shapes seep from the marks on her wrists, joining together and solidifying into a long spear.

A familiar, black-metalledspear.

The boy raises his hands, the blood gone from his forearm, the wound now fully healed as he grasps two black blades between his fingers.

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