Page 83 of The Blackened Blade

‘Micai’...A low gravelly voice flows into my ear as my eyes begin to flutter and close, a small pain and ache working its way into my chest with its memory.

My onlytruehaven and home in this world washim.

The only person I could trust, the only one I could truly be at ease with…My world, my ally, my strength…my mate.

CHAPTER 23

Imake my way toward the old abandoned building about half a mile back behind the academy and training grounds.

I found this place during one of my runs. Apparently it was the first training area when the academy was established, but after a bad fire and the deaths of a couple of students, the place was abandoned. In only a few decades, the building now resembled something you would see from a haunted movie.

I make my way through the new area of forest, feeling fresher from the nap I had earlier, and ready for a good training session tonight.

I needed to work off some of the agitation from today and what better way than feeling the cold metal of two beautiful elven daggers beneath my fingers.

I was going to miss my little clearing, but after the attack during the Halloween dance, there were more people making their way into the forest and getting nearer to it.

At first, I thought it was just some students looking for a thrill but they didn’t stick to just one area, almost as if they were searching for something.

My instinct told me after the second day, that I’d better move if I didn’t want to be caught training. I came all the way to the forest behind the defence training grounds, and to the opposite side of the academy. It takes a while longer sticking to the shadows and sneaking behind the academy and current training grounds to get here, but so far I’ve seen and heard no-one. It was worth the time if I could train in peace again.

I push past the overgrown bushes and make my way down the broken pathway.

The closer I get, the more features of the old building I could see; overgrown ivy climbed its derelict walls with grey brick peeking out from beneath it, scorch marks ran the length of one side of the building, and small curved windows with tree leaves crawling from its now empty panes.

I make my way through its front entrance, an open space where only rusted hinges covered in ivy and moss are any indication that a door once stood here before.

The space inside is completely open, most of the old walls decayed with time or destroyed by the fire. The moon sits above me, a large crumbling hole now where part of the roof once stood. Trees sprout from every corner, with moss and green bushes covering most of the floor, only small parts of grey brick or old black tiles still visible, where nature hadn’t fully taken them. Ivy and moss also climb up the remaining walls, with small flecks of brick peeking through here and there.

On the left side of the building–that's still partially intact–there stands a strange broken cabinet that lines half of its wall. It has hooks and clasps of varying sizes that seem to have once held the weapons here. And below it sits an old broken board with strange black marks hanging from the wall. The shape on it looks vaguely familiar, maybe some sort of magical symbol I’d seen before or some old family crest?

But I can’t fully make it out, as the rest of the board is burned and charred, with the wood cracked and large chunks missing from it.

There's a stairway still whole on the far right side of the building where the roof is still intact. There seems to be less burn marks over there than the other half of the building. But time and neglect has taken its toll as its wood is decaying, its bricks slowly crumbling and nature reclaiming it with large trees and shrubbery.

The floorboards creak as I make my way over the old decaying wood and to the centre of the room, with the sturdiest looking boards.

Pulling my hoody off, I place it on a nearby hanging tree branch before pulling out the beautiful silver daggers. I flip them back and forth in my hands.

I know I have to return them soon, but just for tonight, I could train to my hearts content with them in my palms. After today's drama, I deserved it.

Gripping the dagger, I shift forward in one swift movement, slicing through the air, as a‘shing’sound echoes out around the area. Then I switch to rapid thrusts, the sound of the blade turning to a tune almost like a whistle as it echoes throughout the open space.

I push harder, throwing a few bends and twists into my movements, battling all the memories from today; of those blue eyes, of Xander’s glare and Kane's cold voice. I move back and forth with the breeze running through the room, my movements growing more fierce with each strike.

Everything around me fades away as I lose myself to the rhythm I’ve created. The only sound I hear is the beating of my heart as I go to a place solely for me.

Gadriel’s POV

I watch on mesmerised by the small lithe figure in the near distance, a familiar face, but with a speed and agility I had not seen before.

Her small hand holds the daggers I’ve been searching for since I noticed them missing last Friday.

I had sworn I would make the thief pay heavily for taking them, but as I watch her with them now, I’m overtaken by a new feeling, one far from anger or retribution.

Her movements are nimble but swift. She was more skilled in combat than one her age should be.

I could tell the first time my eyes met those endlessly blue irises, that they held more than the years she carried. That they had seen and fought things her lips would never let free.

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