Page 50 of Wings of Strife
“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Dad asks, tossing a glance at Mom and the remains of our pie on the table. He doesn’t waste a second grabbing a slice for himself.
“I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by to see how your telepathy training was going. Mom’s been giving me regular updates, but I figured it was time for a test.” Tabbris and Yofie really came through for them with their notes, providing enough detail that even a child could probably follow along. Their kindness never fails to astound me.
Dad sits next to Mom, and they both reach a hand out to me while entwining their other hands together.
We’re getting the hang of it with physical touch, Mom says through our mental connection.
And we’ve managed it without a few times, but it takes some practice, Dad adds, his face set in concentration.
Keep practicing. Every day. It’s like a muscle. The more you use it, the easier it’ll become.I don’t push further, not wanting them to hear the fear behind the words, but needing them to take it seriously.
As one, they break the physical connection and close their eyes. Mom speaks through the bond first.
It’s part of our routine.
She’s better at it.
I smile. “It was tough for me at first, too, but I’m so happy at the progress you’re making!”
“We practice every morning during breakfast and at night before bed,” Mom says. “More throughout the day, if we can. It’s actually quite fun.”
“Good. I’d like to experiment with our connection over a distance. Once I get back to campus, I’ll test the bond.” I stand, happy to see them making progress.
“You’re leaving already?” Dad asks.
Sadness seeps in. I wish they could come with me. If they were closer, away from this damn district, maybe I'd stop worrying about them. Maybe I could keep them safe. Though I can’t even manage to stay out of trouble, so perhaps it’s better they keep their distance.
“I’ve got to get back, but we’ll see each other again soon.”
Leaving them is painful, but I take to the sky and do my best to get back to campus in one piece. My neck is sore from constantly checking my surroundings, but I arrive on my balcony without issue. I don’t waste a second hiding the imbued dagger and changing into my workout gear. Energy coils around me in waves. I need to let some of it out before I drown in it.
I avoid everyone until I get to Zeke’s private training room, where Theo is already working. He’s coated in sweat, the muscles on his arms bulging as he pummels a punching bag with a drawing of a demon stuck to it. His eyes hold more determination and anger than I’ve seen from him before. It’s like he’s not just fighting an inanimate bag. He’s fighting something far more real.
His past.
Not wanting to interrupt him, I turn to leave, but he calls out before I can reach the door.
“Wait,” he says, breathless from the beating he’d just given the bag. “You don’t have to leave. Come join me.”
I hesitate, not wanting to intrude. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. How are you?” He grabs a towel, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Fine. Happy it’s not my face stuck to that bag,” I tease, but my heart isn’t in it. I can’t just act like things are normal when I just had my hands all over Zeke.
He stares at me for a long time, long enough that I start to feel uncomfortable. Shit. I didn’t do a very good job at selling that, did I? But, Theo being Theo, he doesn’t press me on it and just returns his focus back to the bag.
While I stretch, I watch him. He isn’t moving as intensely as he was when I first arrived, but that look of resolve is still on his face. When I feel limber enough, I press a button on the side of the wall to drop a second punching bag, then grab a couple of fake daggers from the shelf of practice weapons. Between lessons with Mira, Zeke, and the others, I’m feeling far more confident in being able to handle myself, but even I’m not fool enough to think what little I know will be enough.
Like with everything else in life, there’s always room for growth.
Shoving thoughts of my complicated relationships and friendships into a dark corner of my mind, I get lost in training. Or, at least I try to.
With Theo so close after what I did earlier, my betrayal eats me alive.
As if sensing the maelstrom of my thoughts, he approaches me with two bottles of water in hand. I didn’t even notice that he’d stopped punching the stupid bag.
I take the offering, swallowing a few mouthfuls of the cold liquid before setting the bottle on the floor.
