Shattering of a World: Thorns and Roses (Book #1)

Chapter 2

Guarding that stupid white flag was something Tarion did not enjoy at all. He hated capture the flag, and it was now down to him, Katrina, and Eugene. The black team only had four left, and it could go either way. Capture the flag was part of their training as soldiers, and it took a lot of stealth and concentration. The trainee would rather have been sparring with his friends or reading a book, but no. He had to guard that stupid flag.

Eugene patrolled their safe zone for anyone on the black team while Katrina tried to get the other team's flag. While they were, Tarion was walking back and forth near a pine tree from which the white flag was hanging, making sure no one from the black team tried to grab it. His icy blue eyes were as sharp as an owl's vision and never once had he let his guard down. Even though he hated capture the flag, his eyes seemed to have never failed him when perceiving someone, which mainly was why he was in charge of guarding the flag. With his vision, he could get more people on the black team in their made-up prison as easy as pie.

The hood on Tarion's cloak was down, and even though he should've covered his head with it to camouflage himself in the snow, he didn't think it was that cold outside. He'd get too hot if he even pulled the hood over his head; sweat would slowly begin to form and drip down his body, ending with sweat stains on his clothes. Like all his other teammates, his clothes were white, not a single blemish on them, and white was an easy enough color that could get ruined by something, but as long as it was warm, it could make up for that. He would've been spotted by the black team faster than Katrina if he had tried to go on the other side to get their flag with his hood off.

As Tarion kept on guard, he wondered how Katrina was doing as far as getting the other team's flag went. He hadn't heard their professor declare that she was out, so she must've been safe still. For as long as the icy blue-eyed teen could remember, Katrina had been a sneaky person. One memory he recalled all too well of her was when they were little in Fasiqua and played hide and seek. Tarion searched for her for what seemed like forever, and by then it was close to getting dark. Back then, the small boy got worried that something may have happened to his friend and considered even going to get help. Then, out of nowhere, Katrina jumped in front of him and practically gave him a heart attack as he thought she might've been some feral animal. His friend laughed hard that day, and reflecting on it almost made him smirk.

In the distance, Tarion thought he saw something moving in the shadows of the trees. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard a faint snap of a twig. He began to make out an outline of a human body, and the figure looked like they were trying to hide, and while he could've sprinted towards them to try and get them out, they would've had better chances of getting the flag. So instead, he made it seem like he didn't see them. Tarion watched from the corner of his vision as the figure tried to hop from one tree branch to another, and without them noticing, he slowly scooped up some of the wet and heavy snow. Then, he began sculpting the handful of snow into a sphere, and his hands began to feel bitter, but it wasn't long until he finally made the perfect snowball that was round and hard.

The figure had gotten closer, and Tarion had the snowball behind his back. He could feel some of the snow slowly thaw into tiny droplets of water from his hand to his strong arm, and that was starting to make his teeth clatter, but as soon as the figure with sloppy stealth was within close range, the snowball would no longer feel like it was trying to freeze up a part of his limb. It was so damn cold, but the snowball would soon no longer be in his grasp. Tarion kept acting like he didn't hear them. Just one more hop from them to the next branch, and his target would be golden.

It seemed like a millennium had passed as the figure didn't hop to the next tree branch, which made Tarion wonder if the person from the black team finally realized he had heard them. He continued trying to appear oblivious, even as the snowball was practically biting its coldness in his hand. At any moment, he felt like he was going to drop that snowball, and the icy blue-eyed teen wanted to get rid of it. Still, Tarion wanted to do that by launching it at the person on the black team, and all he had to do was keep on doing the waiting game.

Then, after a few more seconds, the figure finally moved and hopped to the next branch. As soon as they did, they were wide open. Tarion flung the snowball, and it curved towards the figure, almost like an arrow. The snowball struck them square in the chest, surprising them, and they fell, crashing into the puffy snow. Tarion managed to view who he hit and couldn't help but feel pleased when he recognized who it was. On the ground, groaning, was the guy who always was a pain in the ass: Steinar, the jerk himself. Steinar never liked him for some reason and always tried to upset him whenever he could. They became rivals when they first laid eyes upon each other.

"Steinar, you're out," their professor called out from the top of a ledge.

As if the professor threatened him, Steinar got up and fixed his steel-blue eyes on him, pissed. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

The middle-aged Professor Woodlock furrowed his brow at him as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I never kid, Steinar. So now off you go to the white team's prison."

The professor had a good view from where he was and never missed a thing whenever he brought the trainees out in these parts of the woods. Like all the other professors, Professor Woodlock wore a badge on his long-sleeved, navy blue tunic that was silver and almost bore a resemblance to a star, and hanging from the badge was a silver, thin rectangle with the professor's title engraved on there. No matter where Tarion went, he always saw his professors wearing those badges. Professor Woodlock was one of those who took their jobs seriously and tried to be fair whenever possible. However, he did not tolerate anyone who disrespected him, primarily the trainees. Tarion could only imagine the lecture the professor would give Steinar once this was all over.

Grumbling under his breath, Steinar turned away from the professor and brushed the snow off his black clothes, and as he did, he gazed at Tarion sourly. "This is not over. I'm going to get back at you. Just wait." He whispered coldly.

Tarion stared at Steinar blankly, not caring what he had just said. He wouldn't let the jerk's mood affect him. Hitting Steinar with that snowball made his day to capture the flag much better. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch," he countered in a whisper.

After a few more seconds of glaring at him, Steinar went to the white team's prison. There were now three still standing on each team, and the faster capture the flag ended, the quicker they could all be dismissed. But then, the icy blue-eyed teen suddenly heard a familiar voice shout, "Tarion, I got it!"

Tarion swiftly glanced over his shoulder to see the familiar face of his friend Katrina with her all-white outfit like his, her chocolate brown hair, and green eyes that were like the color of luscious green plants seen in greenhouses. She was sprinting as she was excitingly holding up something in her hand, and when he managed to get a better look, his eyes widened when he saw that Katrina had the black team's flag. She got it! Tarion never doubted her for a second; he knew she could do it.

Tarion began climbing the tree he was guarding, almost like a squirrel, as quickly as possible, and in no time, he was on one of the tree's lowest limbs: rough and frosty. First, he curled his arms and legs around it, making it creak a little in the process. Then, once secure in place, he carefully reached his hand out. "Pass it up to me! I'll tie it to the branch!"

As Katrina continued to sprint, Tarion got ready to grab the black flag, and the closer she got, the closer they were to winning capture the flag. Finally, when the dark brunette got close enough to the tree he was on, she jumped as high as possible with the flag in her hand and extended it towards the icy blue-eyed teen. His hand managed to clasp the black flag, but as it did, Katrina's warm fingers grazed across his freezing hand that had the snowball in it a while ago, making it tickle a little. Tarion hadn't focussed on that, though, as he was already tying the flag to the branch. The remaining black team came running out from the woods like a storm cloud, but it was already too late for them.

The black flag was attached to the branch, swaying in the wind.