Radiance - The Alight Archives Book #1

74. Unburdened

With his breaths coming in ragged gasps and his clothes sticking to his skin with sweat, Custas staggered out of the oppressive darkness of the forest into a small, square clearing. The sunlight, filtered through the thick clouds, still managed to sear his skin as he emerged from the shadowy refuge, causing him to squint and blink until his eyes finally adjusted. His chest felt ablaze with the effort, and he was amazed at how his legs managed to carry him without stumbling over each other.

With his arms hanging down by his sides like limp noodles, his dark hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, Custas paid no attention to the safety of his surroundings as he dropped to one knee, his unfocused eyes fixed on the grass beneath his feet. His uniform, damp with sweat, felt like it was weighing him down like fabric armor, and in the midst of his retreat, Custas vividly recalled removing his tie and casting it aside.

Nice, nice, you managed to keep up. Moments like these, where he felt pathetic and beaten down, why, it reminded him of the many, many occasions where he and Fennick were forced to outrun a patrol of military officers in the Capital. It often resulted in how he was now, a sweating, delirious, pathetic mess melting on the floor. For a second there, I thought they'd caught you. That would have been bad. I can't imagine you lasting long in prison, what with you being such a big baby, and all.

Well, it's a good thing I have such a dependable friend, he remembered saying through a tooth-gritting smirk. If something like that ever were to happen to me—and I'll be damned if it did!—I know I can count on your dumbass to bail me out.

Fennick's laughter erupted in his ears. How big of a sulmo are you? The hell can I do against an army of State Sorcerers?

Use that wicked charm you're so proud of.

As if. I know my limits, just the same as you do, sulmo, Fennick had retorted jokingly. Still, I suppose this is another reason you're such a good thief. Nobody can run faster than you can. What, did Kyntho bless you with more Luck than I thought? A special swiftness unique to cowards among cowards?

Nah, I just don't want to get caught. Custas recalled that retort with a stab to his pride. It's as simple as that.

In reality, running had never come naturally to him, despite his many years of doing nothing but. As Custas wiped the sweat from his forehead, he cautiously glanced back over his shoulder. He had expected to hear the crunching of leaves under his pursuers' boots, but to his relief, there was no sign of Jesse and the others. Only the gaping entrance to the dark, maze-like Glyph Forest lay behind him.

With the stark realization that he was utterly isolated foremost in his thoughts, Custas finally permitted himself to crumple to the ground, much like discarded attire callously flung into a desolate alley. As he lay there, his body pressed against the cool grass, he keenly perceived the gradual ascent and descent of his chest with each sweltering breath he drew, and it was then that the furious thumping of his heart made itself known. His mind was unable to grasp how long he had been fleeing, but he was keenly aware of the imperative need to break escape.

In his current state, Custas was ill-prepared to confront even one mage, let alone three. Exhausted from his intense struggle to subdue Meredith in her imposing white tiger form, he had depleted whatever little energy remained in a mad dash with three relentless classmates hot on his trail. What he craved now was a chance to recuperate, to restore his depleted Essence. However, he couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before another of his determined classmates targeted him in pursuit of academic recognition.

Creaking open his eyelids, Custas slowly raised his arm over himself, noticing quickly how much it shook from fatigue. Yup, if he were to duel anyone right now, would he even be able to cast a spell? No, surely not. At that point, the only option he'd have would be to run away. Run away again like a humiliated coward. To hell with that...