Reaper Society

Chapter 18: Potential

Asher leads me into the training hall without a word, but there's an odd formality and tension to him I just don't understand as he turns to face me. I glance around the room, feeling a sort of...presence. The creepy-crawly weight of being watched has me rolling my shoulders nervously. Suddenly, the mirrors on the walls make me feel twitchy and paranoid. Asher lets out a breath when he notices my eyes lingering over the reflective surfaces with suspicion.

"You're being observed by an Ancient to access your potential and strength." He tells me quietly, but not so softly that his voice could be considered a whisper. His eyes flick between me and the mirrors at the very back of the room.

"A-" I stutter, my eyes going wide. Something about the term sounds so official and a hint of memory tugs at my mind. Dante mentioned the name of the supernatural before, the way he used it made it sound like a title at the time.

"Ancient." Asher repeats calmly, but there's that wariness in his expression as he looks at me. By the way my mentor says it only confirms my suspicions that it's someone or something important.

"I haven't been trained yet!" I sputter defensively and he visibly cringes, his skin paling a shade as he glances at the mirrors again.

"You have some skill with knives-" Asher starts slowly, almost like he's trying to argue a point, but I'm not having it.

"I've been here for less than twenty-four hours! What could I possibly know?" I can't help but toss this question at the mirrors he keeps looking at. I glare at my reflection, though something tells me to look up a little higher, like two feet higher. So I do. And the second I do, my runes flare with heat. Not the same kind I felt when we faced the cat-creatures, but...familiar. The way you feel when someone you care about smiles at you. A soul-deep warming.

"Just do your best," Asher murmurs in my ear, his sudden closeness pressing at my back. My mentor has his arms wrapped lightly around me as he guides me towards the center of the room. I'm so shocked I don't move away from him at first as he places twin blades in my palms and steps away. My brain comes back online and I toss a half-hearted scowl at the soul-stealer, who's moved to face me. "Don't hold back." He warns me, his reddish-brown eyes darkening as he pulls identical knives from his pants.

I stare at him for a second, then down to the knives he's given me and back.

"You're insane. I'm not-"

"Don't tell me you haven't wanted to slit my throat from the moment you met me." Asher smirks, but there's no real emotion behind the expression. I flinch at his words, but don't deny them. There have been times where I've thought about it...but I don't think I could ever... "I heal fast, Nia." Asher finally tells me in a gentler tone, the rasp of his voice making the gutter-thoughts flare back into my head.

I swallow a sudden lump of fear in my throat as I tighten my grip on my knives. They're the same as before, the wrapped handles as familiar as the weight of them. I roll my wrists and Asher gives me a softer smile that makes something in my chest hurt.

"That's it." He encourages, lifting his hands into a defensive position. The light catching against the reflective surface of his curved blades. I notice his aren't silver like mine, but black.

For a moment, I consider throwing my knives down and stomping out of the room. This is stupid! I don't want to fight Asher, especially after the kindness he showed me a few minutes ago. On the other hand... I really do want to make him suffer, just a little. Not in a 'cut-him-to-itty-bitty-pieces' kind of way, but more like 'injure-his-pride-a-bit'.

The thought makes me relax a little and force down the little warm-and-tingly flutters that never seem too far whenever Asher's near. I mentally throw myself into what I used to call 'fighting-mode', turning slightly to make myself a smaller target and spreading my legs a bit to make a sturdier stance. My knees bend and I raise my knives in preperation for the fight.