By the end of our training session, my body felt as though it weighed a ton. Bruises littered my arms, my legs heavy. Sweat made my fly aways stick to my neck and face. I chugged a bottle of water James had lent me, apologizing for drinking it all as I crinkled the plastic.
"You did great today," a sheepish grin on James's face. His hair had grown curlier now that it was slick with sweat, a few pieces clung to his forehead. His eyes squinted upward as he smiled, his dimples, carving into his cheeks. I smiled back.
"Thanks for helping me today. I really appreciate it." James titled his head down, the smile from earlier still playing on his lips.
"You know, I never thought we'd get the chance to train together again," a laugh escaped him. "Let alone me teaching you, that was always your job. Teaching me that is," elbows on his knees, as we sat, his gaze was warm, soft, against his hardened features.
"Hah, really?" I raised an eyebrow as I looked at him. "I must've been pretty bad then," I widened my eyes a bit as he began to laugh.
"If that's your way of complimenting me, I'll gladly accept it," he stood up holding out his hand to help me up. "You shouldn't sit too long, or you'll get a cramp." I stared at his jagged scar; rough calluses littered the inside of his hand. I grabbed his hand gratefully as he hauled me into an upright position. "Go change, we're done today, we can pick up again tomorrow," he quickly let go of my hand as I nodded my head.
"Thank you again," I spoke lightly as he shook his head.
"No, thank you. I needed this." I turned around, walking back to the changing room.
Within a few minutes, I had finished changing back into my attire from earlier, the clothes feeling suffocating against the higher temperature I was experiencing. As I glanced in the mirror, my face was flushed, crystals of salt already formed near my forehead. The bun I'd thrown my hair into was falling out all over. I grasped the elastic that held it, pulling it out. My hair was a disaster, however, I attempted to fix it to the best of my ability.
As I exited the changing room, I held the uniform firmly, not sure what to do with it. James was sitting back in the corner, holding a new water bottle. He drank slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so. Once he had noticed me, he removed the bottle from his lips, screwing on the cap. Water dripped down his chin, he wiped it instantaneously, setting it down as he stood.
"What should I do with this?" James put his hand on his chin as I spoke.
"Well there's a ton you could do with it. Light it on fire, throw it in the trash, cut holes in it, you know, all sorts of things," a chuckle escaped his lips. "But we could just set it in the washer, and get it clean for tomorrow," he shrugged, moving the blonde curls on his neck.
"Ha, ha really funny," I hit him lightly. "I'll just stick to putting it in the washer for now, thanks." An all too familiar smirk played on his lips.
"Are you sure? There's plenty more, plus we can always put in a new order." James leaned down to my level. Although I wasn't outright short, James towered over me topping out at, at least six feet. I felt the piercing stare of his brown eyes, drawing me to challenge him in more banter. Intrigue burned in his eyes like hot coals, a dancing flame. I averted my gaze, turning around as I shrugged.
"Maybe a later day," I smiled over my shoulder as I walked out of the training room, and down to the bottom level of the home.
In an instant, I had made my way to the mop closet, inside were the washer and dryer, crammed one on top of the other. Each had a similar deep silver that lined them, with a circle on the front facing side. I opened the one on top, the washer. I placed my dirtied uniform inside, shutting the door behind me. Although I would have started it, I decided that James or Chase may want to wash something of theirs first.
An all too familiar headache, that had begun to plague me almost daily since arriving, had begun to flare into my temples. I reached out at the sliding door of the mop room. The wood was cool to the touch, yet it wasn't enough to bring the blurriness at the edges of my vision into focus. Why now? The excruciating pain exploded, as everything in front of me seemed to spin and I collapsed to the floor.
'You're so bad at this.' A familiar voice, what seemed to be my own, echoed throughout the large room. It was similar, yet different to the training room upstairs. The back wall was made entirely of mirrors, the two opposing ones made of windows that trailed down to the floor. There was no light in the room except from that of the moon that casted an eerie glow on the pair that were in front of me.
'It's not like you go easy on me.' A sandy blonde boy, just barely taller than the girl in front of him laid on his back, staring at the girl with a crooked smile.
'How would you get better if I were to go easy on you? You need to get stronger, or they'll cut you from the Reapers.' The girl responded, holding out a pale hand, wearing the same red uniform I had worn earlier.
'Maybe I'm not cut out for it,' the boy spoke shamefully, brown eyes glossed in disappointment. He took the girl's hand as she hoisted him up, their gaze met, his one of what looked to be grief, yet hers was that of determination. Her grey eyes looked silver from the moonlight that peeked through the glass panes. The light of the moon ignited her features, no, my features, in a cascade of pale light. She stared at him brushing dust off of his shoulder.
'If you weren't meant to be here,' I stated as my eyes made their way up to the messy blonde boy's before me. 'You wouldn't be. You were picked for a reason James.' My eyes seemed to glow in response to the eye contact between us. 'You may not be a Crescent, but that doesn't make you any less worthy of the title of a Reaper.' I moved a curl out of his face, his eyes darkened slightly as I backed away from him.
'You're right, I've just got to show some progress that's all.' A sad turn of his lips was all that he seemed to acknowledge me with. However, a giant grin crossed my own, younger face.
'Let's go again!'
I sat upright in an instant, heaving in breaths. Beside me sat a startled Chase, along with Azura who squawked at my sudden outburst. The bird's gold eyes seemed to shine as she cocked her head toward me, making a cooing noise. Moss eyes locked onto me, wide and concerned. Chase. I let my heart settle, as the pounding of my head subsided.
"Are you alright?" Chase asked, specks of forest green and ocean blue littered the center of his iris near his pupil. His eyes shone against the sunlight that cascaded through the window. My window. I looked outside, then down at myself. Seeing I was still in my clothes from earlier.
"I-" I started, then swallowed before telling Chase about the memory. Somehow, it felt wrong. My gut told me not to mention it to him. "What happened?" I questioned.
"James found you passed out on the floor; he went to get me. Then he carried you upstairs, I've been here ever since." His voice was hushed as he looked at his hands. One still had sores that were much less pronounced now. The splits that caressed his lips had already begun to fade; a few hours seemed to make a significant difference in the bruises around them. The cuts themselves were still slightly scabbed, and the bruises had become a brownish yellow in contrast to his pale complexion.
"I'm sorry, I must have trained too hard today," I let a weak grin sit on my lips as his gaze moved back to my eyes. He only nodded, his eyes moving across the bruises on my arms.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, everything takes time." His long lashes peeked over his eyelids, almost touching the dark of his eyebrows. Coal colored hair shimmered like obsidian against the sunlight, falling messily onto his forehead. I let out a quiet sigh, glancing toward the window, my eyes straining against the sun's rays.
"We don't have time," I let the words escape my lips indistinctly. I could see Chase cock his head out of the corner of my eye. His eyebrows were scrunched together, leaving small indents between them.
"What?" He asked, a slight edge to his voice. I couldn't tell if it was of disbelief or that of confusion, maybe it was both.
"We don't have time Chase. There's never enough time," I spoke louder this time. I felt the threatening of tears stinging the back of my throat, my eyes. "I just-" A knock sounded on the door, before my father, dressed in a black suit entered.
"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything?" His voice was even, smooth, as he stared me down, a warning barely visible in his gaze. "I heard what happened earlier from James. Are you alright?" My fingers fumbled with my comforter, as the setting sun sank lower, casting an orange glow against it.
"Yes father, I'm fine. It was just another dizzy spell," I didn't meet his gaze as I said this, my voice came out weakly. My father made his way over beside me, sparing an acknowledging glance at Chase who returned it. Chase then rose, nodding his head.
"I'll meet you downstairs, we can talk later." A moment later Chase was gone, and my father and I were left alone. He took the place Chase occupied moments prior, grabbing my hand.
"Listen, Makayla," he looked to the door making sure it was shut as he spoke in a whisper. Azura was nowhere to be found now, as I glanced toward my nightstand. A wave of relief echoed through my chest. "Your mother plans to send all of you away within the next week." He swallowed hard, making his somewhat wrinkled face contort ever so slightly into what looked like nervousness. "I know I am not meant to tell you; however, I can't bear to let you go in headfirst without prior knowledge, that's why I sent you that letter." A wrinkled, scarred hand reached into his pants pocket as he pulled out a long dagger. Its hilt was made of silver and wrapped in crimson leather bindings. Small engravings littered the edge of the long blade, a shade darker than the rest of it.
I stared at it as he held it out to me. "It will only cut through what you wish it to," he spoke softly, stroking his thumb against the blade, not a speck of blood to be found. "This blade will always be true, nothing can bend its will, your will to which you wish it to do."
My eyes scanned his blue-green ones. They rested on the blade, a sadness crept into his eyes. "You will learn with it, and you will grow with it. You and the blade will become one, it will never leave your side," my heart sank at his words, they were laced with such sincerity that my eyes began to burn once more.
"Listen Makayla, whatever happens, know that I will be close to your heart. Don't let your mother see this blade, she must not know I gave it to you." His eyes made their way to mine, desperation clear in them. "Don't let them win." He pushed the hilt of the blade into my palm as he stood, a grim expression on his face, as he exited the room.