The Summoner's Mark (First Draft) (Book One)

An Eerie Rendezvous

Sin along with Sandrin made their way across the area that made up the Academy and while they had originally started this trek with Inari and Soren following them, Sin quickly called the two Fae back into the portal that his pendant summons into this world once his mana encounters it.

As the pair continued to their destination, Sin continued to keep his grip firmly placed upon Sandrin's wrist which the other male must have eventually grew tired of considering that he shook himself free.

Turning back to see what had gotten into his companion, Sandrin's eyes were glaring daggers into him. Sin opened his mouth to inquire what could have possibly happened to make Sandrin act this way though he wasn't able to even get a word out considering that Sandrin's voice tore through the area that surrounded them.

"Where in the world are you dragging me off to..." Sandrin growled out as his hands fell upon his hips that indicated that he wouldn't budge a muscle until given the information that he wished for. "...while I am thankful that you saved me from that band of thugs as well as convinced the Academy to allow me to stay here, we hardly know each other. So, what give you the right to drag me around?"

While he could understand the hostility that was being directed at him, Sin was unable to keep his annoyed huff from escaping. Taking a moment to calm his annoyance, Sin readied himself to respond to the words that Sandrin had thrown at him.

Though before Sin responded to Sandrin's words, he turned and looked in the direction that they were going which revealed that in the distance the outline of Kanerra's arena could be seen. "With what happened last night and now with my fellow classmates joining the movement that those thugs represent; I figured that it was time for you to learn to defend yourself." Sin explained as he turned back to face his companion.

Almost immediately, the hostile expression that adorned Sandrin's face fell to strike the ground as if it were a stray bolt of lightning.

In a way that was strikingly like the many times that Sin himself had embarrassed over the years, a crimson sheen spread upon Sandrin's body and as the younger male ran his hand through his hair; he spoke once more. "I am sorry for speaking to you in that manner...I am not used to having many people care for me in this way." Sandrin explained as he continued to act as his embarrassment was still surging through his body.

"There is nothing to apologize for Sandrin. I tend to overreact on many occasions as well..." Sin replied before turning from Sandrin once more, though this didn't stop him from speaking once again. "...now if your curiosity is settled, would you mind if we continue on to our destination?"

While Sin might have asked Sandrin a question, he didn't wait for the other male to respond before he started walking once more and from the sounds, he heard echoing from behind him; Sin knew that Sandrin was following.

*

The sun was already starting its descent downwards by the time that Sin and Sandrin had found themselves at the arena. This signaled that class for the day have already come to an end and that it would be safe for them to train without having to worry about facing Sten's hostility.

Considering that Sin wished to ensure that the arena was cleared, he decided that it would be best to take the entrance that would bring them up and into the stands instead of the combatant entrance. This entrance also happened to be the closet one that was available to them which was a bonus for the pair that had already started their way up the steps.

Within a few short moments, the pair had arrived at the top of the stands which allowed him to look directly into the depths of the sandy pit below. Immediately, Sin sprang behind one of the many seats and as he did so; Sandrin was pulled along with him.

"What are..." Sandrin started to cry out though before he was able to get too far; Sin slammed his hand over his mouth to muffle the words and the noise that they made.

Praying that he was able to cut off the noise before those within the arena were able to hear it; Sin was waiting for any sign that they had been noticed by those below. When none came, a sigh of relief flooded out of him. Now that he didn't have to worry that Sandrin had given them away, he removed the hand that was placed over Sandrin's mouth though he signaled for the younger male to keep quiet as he did so.

Peeking over the seat that he was using for cover, Sin began to examine the scene that he saw below. Four individuals stood within the arena and while three of them were immediately recognized as Sten, Balor and Harlon; the other was still someone that he couldn't place at first sight.

This recognition didn't come until he saw the resemblance between this younger male and Sten which reminded Sin that he had faced this male in the arena while he was trying to pass through the Academy initiation. "Why is Sten's nephew here?" Sin asked himself as he watched all four of them unsheathe a weapon and from the sound of metal scrapping upon itself; Sin knew that these were real blades before they even came in view. "Sten must have decided that he would give extra tutelage given that they share the same mindset as he does."

With their weapons pointed in the air, Sin watched as they started slashing their swords as if they were fighting an invisible enemy. The movement that was caused by this revealed that each of them had a white patch stitched into their outfits. "I should have known that they would have joined this movement against my kind." Sin concluded as decided that it was not time for him and Sandrin to remove themselves from this situation.

Dropping his head down, Sin turned his attention back to Sandrin. "We have to get out of here...if they find us, then it is possible that they might decide that it would be best to get rid of us while they don't have to worry about witnesses." Sin whispered with an urgency behind each of his words.

Once again, before Sandrin was able to respond to the words that were thrown at him; Sin grasped ahold of his wrist and pulled him in the direction that they had entered.