Black Emerald (on hold)

Chapter One, Part One: Ayla

The training room was blissfully empty when Ayla entered, the equipment along the walls making long shadows on the floor from the gray early-morning light that streamed through the windows. The room was on the twentieth floor, high enough that sunlight was allowed to enter unobstructed by neighboring buildings. The Base Of Operations for the Kellarus Special Operatives, commonly referred to as 'base', was the tallest building in Akarda apart from the King's Hall, which was over a mile away on the other side of the city.

Ayla dropped her bag on the floor and bent down to rummage through it. She began to wrap her hands for protection, not that she would need it. Most often, it was her magic that took the impact for her, whether she was hitting or being hit, but she enjoyed the ritual of wrapping her hands. She liked how it made her feel; strong, in control, and grounded. She flexed her fingers, feeling out the wrappings. Ayla allowed a small amount of her magic to wind around her fingers, admiring the contrast of her pale skin with the dark-colored thread of magic.

    She stood from the metal bench and shed the loose sweatpants she had worn to walk through the base. Although the hour was far too early for even operatives to be awake, leaving the halls mostly deserted, walking through the corridors in her workout shorts felt unexplainably strange. She bent to tighten the laces of her shoes, and then straightened, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirrors that covered one wall of the training room.

Satisfied with her appearance, Ayla flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and approached one of the long, heavy bags hanging from the ceiling. She shifted her weight to the balls of her feet and raised her wrapped hands, curling them into fists. She brought her magic up, shaping it into small, curved shields over her knuckles. As she moved to punch the bag, her magic sprung forward to make the hit. She bounced on her toes, hitting the bag again and again.

One-two, breath. One-two, breath.

A few minutes later, panting, Ayla wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm. She moved towards her bag to take a drink, glancing up as someone pushed open the door of the room. She was about to stand and scare them away when she saw it was an agent, like herself, not a trainee like she'd assumed. Normally, she would ignore the other girl, but the girl shot a quick smile her way, and Ayla found herself offering a nod in return.

Ayla secured the top onto her water bottle and strode over to the track that made a ring around the outside of the room. The main training room, and Ayla's favorite, spanned an entire floor of the base, with mirrors on the shorter sides and large windows across the longer sides. It boasted a quarter-mile long track spanning its perimeter, which was Ayla's favorite feature. Other operatives preferred to run outside, through the city, but Ayla enjoyed looking out over the capital city as she ran. If it was a clear day, she could see all the way to the strait, which separated Kellarus from its neighboring country. Of course, now the countries were one and the same, and the name of the original country had been erased from all records. Born after Kellarus had taken it over, Ayla had never known its name.

As she began her first mile, she looked across the room to see the other girl moving towards the other side of the room. Ayla was sure she had never encountered the other girl before. She prided herself on her impeccable memory and her ability to never forget a face, which had been pounded into her from day one of training. However, it wasn't unusual for her to not recognize another operative. With thousands of agents constantly cycling in and out of the base, depending on if they were on assignment, Ayla did not recognize most of the people she saw on base. But this girl was around her age, which meant she might have been in Ayla's class at the academy. If this girl had been in Ayla's class, it would have been before Ayla was accelerated a year.

As she ran, she tried to recall her earlier years at the academy. She had graduated at 17, and been accelerated a year before that. Meaning that if she did know this girl, it would have been when she was younger than 16. Ayla shook her head, if she knew this girl, she would have recognized her already. Ayla glanced back to where the other girl had been, but she was gone. Looking around the room, Ayla found the girl throwing knives, sticking each in a perfect bullseye with a thunk.

Interesting. Most operatives didn't bother to practice things like knife throwing or archery. They had their magic, which would always be infinitely more accurate than a knife or arrow. Ayla had assumed the targets were in the training room purely for show, to take up space. As it turned out, people did use them. Or, at least, one person.

Finished with her second mile, Ayla again went to sip from her water bottle. Sitting down, she looked at the girl again. She had the kind of hair Ayla would kill for, gorgeous, tight, dark curls tied in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. When she was facing the targets, Ayla could easily see her perfect side profile from where she sat. Of course. Of course she was pretty. Her brown skin was perfect, unmarred from scars or freckles. And her nose was perfectly shaped for her face, unlike Ayla's which was too big. Not that she cared.

The girl threw three knives at once, one in her right hand and two in her left. All three landed next to each other in the center circle. Ayla raised her brows. Show off. Ayla stood up, tightening her ponytail, and walked over to the targets. Just as she took a position at the far right target, the farthest one away from the other girl, Ayla noticed the girl had abandoned her knives and was walking towards the equipment on the other side of the room.

Ayla hefted a knife in her hand, feeling its perfectly balanced weight and the way the grip felt in her hand. She hadn't thrown knives since her academy days, hadn't felt the need to. Slowly, she walked herself through the motions until they felt familiar again. Ayla took a step back, curled her arm behind her head, and flung the knife. It would have hit the target, but not the bullseye. So at the last second Ayla sent out a streak of her magic to straighten its course.

"That's cheating, you know," came a voice to her left. Ayla turned slowly, she had known the girl was there, watching.

"Cheating?" Ayla asked, "Since when is using my own magic cheating?"

The girl laughed. Ayla couldn't remember the last time she had laughed.

"Plant your back foot," the girl advised, "It will stop your body from twisting your knife off course,"

Plant your back-- does this girl have any idea who she was talking to?

"Excuse me?" Ayla demanded, shocked that someone would have the audacity to correct her form.

The girl held up her hands in a placating gesture, "Just trying to help."

She turned to go, "I'll see you around," she paused then added, "Ayla."  The training room door slammed as she left, leaving Ayla staring after her.

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Hello! Thank you so much for deciding to read my book and for reading the first chapter! It means the absolute world to me that you have read even this small part of my story. I would really appreciate it if you could give me some feedback. Good or bad, whether you are a fellow writer or just a reader I want to know what you think! This goes for the whole book, not just this chapter. I am a new writer and I want to learn to be better, and you can help me🥰 thank you so so much for reading my story and I hope you enjoyed this chapter and continue to enjoy it!