The Queen of Golden Flame

15. Atlas

Atlas barreled into the storage room and headed straight for the stack of crates at the corner of the small room. With only adrenaline to keep him moving, he shoved the heavy boxes aside and fell to the floor, running his fingers along the floorboards until he found the loose panel.

He wedged his nails underneath until he had a good enough grip and pulled hard, the veins in his arms bulging with the effort until the plank gave way and he riskily delve his hands into the motheaten fabrics that hid his sword-

But his hands only came away empty.

Atlas fought to control his breathing as he rose shakily to his feet. He wandered aimlessly around the room, searching through crates and any nook and cranny he could find, hoping that maybe he had just misplaced it. But every place he looked he always came up short.

"Ilya," he finally called, his last resort, "Ilya, have you seen my sword? I can't find it."

"What sword?"

"What do you mean 'what sword?' My gold one with the emerald in the hilt! My sword! The one I've had since I've known you."

"Oh," Ilya exclaimed, "This sword?"

Ilya stood in the doorway, light spilling in from the narrow hall and outlining his frame in a soft glow. He swung Atlas's golden sword around in his hand as if it were a toy, his bow and quiver slung over his shoulders.

Atlas's hands clenched at his sides. "Seri's sake Ilya, what are you doing?"

"Me? I'm not doing anything," he said innocently, but a menacing smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"Give it here, we don't have time for this. Our ship's under attack and there's five people up there that have never worked as a group! They need our help."

Ilya shrugged. "Amelia's up there. I'm sure she can handle it."

"You're such a child! This isn't funny."

"Really? I think it's hilarious."

Atlas lurched forward, but Ilya had always been the faster of the two despite his size and he feinted to the right. The Captain grabbed the door frame and regained his balance. The elder whistled low and spun the sword in his hand.

"Did you forget you taught me everything I know, Atlas? Maybe you should've kept some tricks to yourself."

"Are you insane?" Atlas lunged forward again, but Ilya stepped out of his way without trouble. "This is pointless!"

"If it's so pointless then why are you fighting back? All I want is for you to stop hiding."

"I'm not hiding," he argued and reached out again, but Ilya took a step away, holding the weapon behind his back. "Grow up, Ilya."

The man laughed. "And you have?"

"You say I pretend, but you pretend too. You act like you're so grown and mature all the time, when you ran away from home. You left behind a good family to chase a dream that you seem to have forgotten about."

Another loud squeal erupted throughout the air and the ship began to tremble like a volcano about to erupt. Before they knew it, they were tilting at a dangerous angle. The crates shifted and groaned, sliding back against the far wall.

Atlas's back hit the wall heavily as Ilya's feet were swept from under him and he crashed to the floor. The Captain's sword clattered to the ground and fell feet away from the two men now pressed against the wall.

His shoulder blades throbbing, Atlas dove for his sword, stretching as far as his long arm could until he could just feel the edge of the cool hilt in his hand. But just before he could secure his hold Ilya grabbed the back of his shirt and he yanked him back hard. The sword rolled away and they were right back to where they had begun.