Unity of the Divided

Not Always The Strongest

Being the first to arrive to breakfast nearly has me tripping. As we walk through the open doors to the dining hall I'm so focused on the empty room, asides from servants finishing preparations, that I catch my foot on the back of my leg, stumbling but quickly righting myself.

I cast a sideways glance at Tezerra hoping he's as starstruck as me by the accomplishment of being first, but unfortunately he's staring straight at me, watched the entire thing, and as he catches my eye cannot hold in his laughter.

Hurriedly I walk past him with it in mind that if I put physical distance between myself and the spot of embarrassment that it'll become a distant memory. Tezerra's loud laughter isn't helping in the slightest.

As a distraction I take the opportunity to properly survey the room. Three tables that hold all representatives, their support, and council members are set as they are for every meal. Golden cloth running the length of each rectangular table, underneath being the white cover protecting the wood. The room is made of white marble with gold and black weaving within it, like most of the palace.

I beckon Tezerra over to study the chandelier in the middle of the room, directly above the centre of the middle, longest table.

"Do you think they put the little mirrored pieces in it so Kallan could check her reflection at all times?" I snicker.

Tezerra's grin is wicked, "considering all she thinks about is herself you would think she'd be sick of seeing herself by now."

I laugh but at the sound of footsteps approaching I quickly slap a hand over my mouth to silence myself. Tezerra doesn't seem to have the same self-control, so I slap my other hand over his mouth. But as soon as my eyes meet his, I start laughing again and so he puts his hand over mine on my mouth.

Movement in the corner of my eye has me turning to look at who's entered, and my eyes widen at who I see. My eyes dart back to Tezerra's, and I think, we've manifested this. He begins to laugh and quickly puts a hand over mine on his mouth.

In has walked the Watillian trio. The representative, his support, and Kallan. Coincidentally we're stood next to the seats they occupy at meal times and so, slowly, we lower our hands and begin backing away.

My eyes lock with the representative, his lips pursing at the sight of me, the light brown hair that'd been straight each time I'd seen him is curled today, covering his forehead, with the short length at the back remaining uncurled. I wonder if he does his own hair.

The man at his side seems unbothered by our presence, ignoring us and heading straight for his chair. Kallan however cannot withhold her look of disgust, her lips pulling back and dipping downwards as she looks me up and down, her nose scrunching like I've infected the air she breathes. With no one else around she appears to see no reason to be pleasant.

"Creation," she sends me a flash of a fake smile, continuing to walk towards me, "you're in my way."

I eye her cooly, "take another step and I'll create thorns on your chair."

She pauses as I raise a hand, running the tips of my fingers across the top of her chair. My nails extend to sharp points that pierce the wood, marking it in their wake. I pull my hand back, examining my nails in nonchalance before looking back to her. Since she complied I decide to leave her alone, raising my hand and waving with my fingers before turning my back on her.

"You're awfully threatening for someone who wields such a positive ability," says the representative, this being the first full sentence he's said to me since we met at the ball.

He thinks the ability of creation is positive, that's interesting considering all he's seen of it is it being used for negative purposes, I'm curious to know what his belief is based on. I continue walking until I'm leaning forward against the chair at the head of my table, facing the doors.