Unity of the Divided

Bawl at The Ball

I feel like slapping myself.

Mostly I'm embarrassed, it feels as though everyone knows this man but me. My imagination runs wild with ideas of what people must be thinking, that perhaps the quick glances and low whispers held more weight than just innocent curiosity.

I whip my head round to look at him, those emotionless eyes now filled with a bone chilling cold. I'm not naïve enough to believe he doesn't sense my change in demeanour and his heartless eyes prove me right. Eyes that are blue, I realise, dark like deep water. Hues of the colour common among Watillians.

I don't know what to do, what to say, my heart is pounding in my ears and I'm struggling to breathe. Rarely am I caught so off guard; my feet feel as though they've been swept from beneath me. To think that I deemed his company pleasant, I want to gag.

An ability holder from a kingdom I despise, their morals so askew, unconventional. Individuals whose desire for power knows no bounds, their greed flows free and strong, like the rivers that run throughout their homeland. Historical enemies of many, it's common ground for even the most opposite of people. But with me it's personal, they were the ringleaders of the enslaving of my people. The inhabitants of the Kingdom of Water are not those who you simply talk with, walk with, dance with.

I fight the overwhelming urge to throw myself backwards, desperation to leave his touch and eyesight becoming nauseating. Who knows what abilities he holds, or the intentions he's hiding. Now I'm angry, furious at myself for letting this happen.

I tilt my chin a little higher. But he simply watches me, waiting for my reaction.

Confusion hits me and I can't help the slight crease in my brow. He's shown no hostility, no snobbishness masked behind pride. Not once has disgust graced his face or his words been mocking. But yet hatred burns brightly now, my realisation sparking it to life. I wonder now how he ever put his hands on me.

He twirls me and I take the opportunity to suck in a nervous breath and I'm grateful for the reprieve from his watchful eyes. In that single second I decide on the path I must take, this is a power move, not a trap I have fallen into.

When I come to face him again I curl my fingers over his shoulders and pull myself closer. His eyes widen for a split second before returning to deceptively unfeeling. I press my lips to his ear, having to tiptoe to do so.

"If I didn't know any better I'd take your attention as flattery," I whisper.

I pull away slightly to watch his expressions, noting him tense at my closeness. No verbal response is given, or a change in his face. I rest my chin on his shoulder.

"Although I doubt a being such as yourself is capable of feeling anything positive towards another," I say it nonchalantly, I want him to feel my dismissal, for him to know there isn't an ounce of caring from me.

"You're quick to judge," he grits out, more of a statement.

"And you're quick to deceive," I fire back.

"It's no fault of mine that you didn't do your research."

I pull back to look at him, frowning.

"Yet you coincidently didn't introduce yourself when you asked me to dance."

To this he is silent, pursing his lips as his jaw ticks.

"What is this?" Anger is forming now, "what trick are you pulling?"

He won't look at me and I'm furious. I'm fast as I grab his jaw and pull his face towards mine, nails extending and sharpening into claws. His eyes snap onto mine, shocked. I don't repeat myself.

"Impracticality."

Confusion causes my grip to loosen slightly, and he rips his head from my hand. In cosmically good timing the song ends, and I spin on my heal, practically running as I put distance between us.

I ignore the gaping mouths of onlookers, their obnoxious, unconcealed curiosity disgusting me. Why people can't mind their own business is a question forever unanswered.

As I stalk past the twins they pivot and follow me, faces grim. People scramble out of our way; anger still radiates off me and I'm grateful it repels. My face is fixed into hard eyes and a set jaw, those with any doubt about the rivalry between Creallians and Watillians, any hope that the endless feud might ease, have it confirmed now.

We're out of the ballroom by my pace doesn't falter, rage still simmering.

"He thinks he can mock me?" I practically shout at no one in particular.

"So entitled, that he does as he wishes? No thought behind the consequences?" I create a set of knives in my palm, "that the decades of slavery my people endured can be set aside so he can enjoy a dance?"

I'm throwing the knives now, each hitting the marble walls with such force that they bury and crack. Tora and Tezerra share a worried look.

"And to think that I let it happen!" My composure is gone, the whirlwind of feelings from the evening hitting me in force.

"He took advantage of your exhaustion, you're not at fault-" Tora starts.

"Unity forbid I be tired!" I send a newly created boulder into the wall; it stays wedged inside.

Right now, I'm infinitely grateful to my training on how to manipulate the things I create as I send items hurtling towards the walls. That's all I've competed for in the divider, knowledge. To know how to control objects made by my hand.

My hands are raised to create more chaos when I freeze. Pain, so agonising that I drop to my knees, overwhelms me. I let out a gut-wrenching scream, blood pools in my mouth and flows out onto the floor. The twins are at my side in seconds, kneeling beside me has I bend over in pain, my hands clawing at my heart where the waves project from. Wishing I could reach through my skin and hold it, caress it, show it warmth and gentleness so it stops this torture.

They're trying to soothe me, stroking my hair and holding me, but it does nothing to cease the inferno inside. A crippling agony so familiar, it graces me with an appearance when I use too much power, sometimes randomly. My head pounds and I'm shaking now, my breath coming irregularly in pants, I feel like I'm choking, yet I know this isn't the end but something to endure.

"Room," I choke out, barely.

They grip my arms and haul me up, I'm hunched over and staggering as they drag me away from the mess I've left in my wake.