The first time Twyll had wielded she had vomited everywhere and then passed out. Her Aunt had screamed at her incompetency and told her she was of no use.
It was an understatement to say that Twyll had been shocked seeing her Aunt controlling water and air. Twyll didn't ask questions. Never had never will. It was drilled into her that she was only to be seen and not heard. Thankfully she had never felt less than or insecure. Whenever she felt the familiar pangs of reproach or insecurity towards another person she would remind herself that she was good and honest and a hard worker compared to those self-privileged village girls. It had taken years to accept that she was perfect just as she was.
She had been sixteen when she first started. When she turned eighteen, Aunt Jinn gave her the crystals to better channel her wielding and energies. She had spent weeks perfecting each element, bending sheets upon sheets of metal into usable weapons, learning how to choke an enemy with water with the least effort possible, manipulating light to render her invisible or make it bright enough to blind temporarily. The fire had been trickier, harder to control. It had taken weeks with tears, blood and sweat along with a few burns. Healing had been the easiest. She was still unsuccessful at shapeshifting and Death wielding. Blood was almost manageable, but the brain had been completely mastered from all the non-elemental wielding.
The ball was tomorrow and today Bren had planned a few training sessions together for her to get used to their fighting styles and teamwork. They also had a meeting to strategise and plan escape points. Twyll was a little uneasy with the Dictator's silence. She had half expected him to come barging into the house and take her away in chains. But that had not happened.
The Bavmeč was now her most faithful companion. It was winded through her hair, the sharp ends tangled into her golden locks. Her weapons from Rhodesïa already long forgotten. There were memories tangled with those weapons and not happy ones. Scars gained from them and then erased, Bones broken at odd angles before they were righted again. Her calluses, proof of her undying will and perseverance smoothed away as if they never existed. No one knew the horrors of Twyll's training.
Twyll turned her attention towards the book she had been reading. Her thoughts had been running all over the place since yesterday. She didn't know if it was because of the training with Trystan or the tech closet debacle. Whatever it was, it was damned irritating and unsettling. She had spent years keeping her head clear and organised and her Aunt's death would not unbalance her control.
As Twyll was walking towards the arena, every step echoing against the bare walls, she felt a sense of foreboding settle over her. A bad feeling, an energy that was disconcerting. Alarming. All of a sudden, she couldn't breathe. She felt the walls closing in on her and the corridor swam in front of her eyes. She felt panic dig its claws into her mind and heart.
Sit down, I have to sit down. I'm going to die. Sit down.
Her heart was beating fast in her chest and her stomach hurt. It hurt so bad. Her cheeks felt cool. Tears, they were wet with tears. The ground looked as if it was coming closer and closer.
Twyll, Twyll, I want you to take deep breaths in. Count to ten, with me... Come on now.
Warm arms wrapped around her, a hand at pushing her head to rest against a shoulder.
Twyll took deep breaths in and counted to backwards from ten.
Ten...
Her vision started clearing.
Nine...
Her heart rate started decreasing.
Eight...
It completely slowed down.
Seven...
Her tears stopped.
Six...
Her legs stopped shaking and the pain in her stomach subsided.
Five...
The voices became clear.
Four...
She turned her head into the warm shoulder.
Three...
She inhaled deeply.
Two...
Her eyes closed. Then opened. Then closed again.
One...
She got up.
What the hell just happened?
...