Page 70 of A Touch of Stars and Stones
I nod. Of course I did, and that he asked, helps keep the mood at bay.
“Want to go over everyone in the class? I’m betting you don’t know what we’re all capable of yet.”
True.
“You can’t take us on if you don’t know how. During training, you’ve been kept from the rest of us since the obstacle course.”
“I don’t want to take any of you on. Except for Crimson.”
“Well, that needs to change. Let’s do a run down.”
I lift my head and square my shoulders. “Go for it.” I take a deep breath.
“You already know me, Calix, Crimson, and Micah. You seem to be getting on well with Raiden and Ascella.”
“Raiden is a Natural,” I state, remembering from the obstacle course. “Ascella’s like Crimson and is a Warrior. Calix is strong, also a Warrior.”
“Right. So that leaves Capella. She’s a Natural. Strong, too, but she’s quiet, so don’t forget she’s powerful. Then there’s Azur. He’s a Guard like me. And then Ravi, who’s Elemental, like Micah.”
“Okay. But what can they do? Warriors seem easy. The others are all a little confusing. It’s not like you all have the same magic abilities.”
“Yeah, I get that. Ravi’s gift is water. He can bend it, manipulate it, conjure it, even.”
“Wow. So, when he made it rain—” I say, thinking back.
“He pulled it from around him. Micah can influence the ground, the earth. Each of the Orders has a general area or skill set. Everyone, with influence from Aslendrix, will have powers enhanced and granted within that sphere.”
“And ones that don’t seem to have powers? I know Kyra hasn’t said anything about hers.”
“Powers can be personal. It’s not always on show or obvious. If you’re curious, ask.”
I think about asking what he can do, but I don’t. “It’s not seen as rude?” I check, not wanting to offend the only friend I seem to have here by accident.
“She’ll tell you if she’s not comfortable.”
I nod. And the quiet of the room seems to rise and envelop us, reminding me we’re alone. The crackle of the fire, the gentle flicker and pop of the wood burning, is the only noise. Listening to the sounds is soothing, and I stifle a yawn, not wanting to be rude.
He chuckles. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
“Oh, that’s ridiculous. It’s like fifty paces.”
He just shrugs.
And then I remember that his door is likely next to mine. Across the hall, maybe?
I stand, he follows, and we slowly head out.
There’s an energy to the air, a heaviness, an aura that clings as we make our way along the too-short walk back. Tension builds, but we’re both silent, the energy like a living thing in the space between us, feeding from the proximity to one another.
“This is me.” I stop at the first door I come to, regretting that the walk wasn’t longer.
“I hope you don’t snore.” He chuckles again, and I realise I love that sound and hope I get to hear it time and time again. He nods towards his door opposite.
Shaking my head, I can’t help but grin.
The seconds trip over themselves, racing to tick by. “Good night,” I break. What else can I say? “Thank you for the pastry.” My hand reaches for the handle behind me, but I don’t find it, so I turn, ending whatever connection there was.
“Ever?”
