Shift

Initiation

I move on instinct. I imagine a sword, its exact length and weight. Power surges in my hands, and the blade from my imagination is suddenly there in my hands. I easily block the first attack with my sword, knocking the knife thown at me straight from the air. My arm starts to ache dully, but the pain feels a world away.

One of the people I think a women is the first to come within range. I attack her as soon as she gets close enough, but insteas of hitting flesh I hit pure air. The figure disintegrates away, bleeding out into the air. I cuss under my breath. Of course they would have a damn Illusionist.

A burning sensation screams across my back, catching the back of my arm as it finishes its arc. Before I can react, another strike creates an x on my back. I struggle to take a breath and get my bearings, the pain clouding my thoughts.

An image appears in the fog. My power surges again, and a platform appears four feet in the air. I jump on top. Height equals advantage, and I need every advantage I can get.

A gust of wind nearly knocks me off the platform. I crouch down in an effort to keep my ground. One of the Testers is level with me, hovering just beyond the platform. His eyes sparkle as I try to stand. He finds delight in my suffering.

Anger floats inside me, and I counter with a gust of my own. It barely fazes him, and he calmly steps unto the platform. Just as he attacks me, a rock spike juts through my platform, breaking it.

My platform caves completly. I fall through and land with a sickening crack. Immediately, a fresh wave of pain rolls up my leg.

Don't focus on the wounds.

Verin's advice comes natural to me.

Don't ignore it, but embrace it.

I roll to the side as a throwing star flies at me from the other side of the arena.

It tells you what's wrong.

My legs threatens to give way as I pull myself up. The sword, still in my hand, moves on instict. Counter. Slash. Block. Another counter, continued with a stab.

But it can block you from what you need to do.

The blade jerks, trying to free itself from my hand. A Kinetic, no doubt. Damn it all! A flame lashes out at my side. A Fire.

Your body is a weapon. Even broken, it can function.

The fire burns into my side, and agony begins to overwhelm my forced calm. My power numbs my reactions, but even then...

Focus on what you need. Embrace the pain like you do a Mark. It is a part of you.

They are all around me now, air squeezing me like a vice. Another flame licks at me, and another wave of pain creeps into my thoughts. There is nothing I can do about those. An invisible slap knocks me off balance.

Embrace it! Use it!

I tumble to my hands and knees, earth coming up to meet me. My left arm shatters. A yell of pain rings out. Dirt cascades around me, eating me whole. Wind crushes me from above. Anything exposed is subject to fire.

Focus you blind idiot!

Embrace the pain.

Make it yours'!

Agony rolls in me. A sword passes through already burned skin. Maybe a knife? Imagine it. Embrace it.

USE IT!

Energy pours from me in waves. It bombard my Testers, my foes. I can dully hear their screams. Pain. Screams of deathly pain. The audience doesn't exist. The children, the old, the sensitive, they aren't there. They were never there. It is only me and the Testers.

Me and them.

I can feel my Mark strain, reaching my limits. Power still rips through me, my thoughts of pain giving birth to pain anew.

But enough pain exists.

I let go.

But even then I havn't won. Half encased in a tomb of stone, I can hear the Testers scream and moan. Somewhere, a child is crying. Maybe more than one. Other than that, the only sound is silent. Lives hang in the balance. Before anyone can receive medical help, I have to stand. I have to finish what I start. I have to be the victor.

My body screams as I try to rally myself up. Rough stone scrapes against burns and cuts already drowned in blood. I hold my left arm as close as I can to my body, trying not to jar it. Using my right arm, I pull my upper body straight.

Blood comes out of my mouth in coughs. My abdomen is in so much pain it feels hot, or maybe ice cold. No time. I have to get up!

Black threatens to overtake take my vision. Reaching, I pull my unbroken ankle out of its stone cast. I do the same with my broken one, nearly passing out every couple seconds.

Blood slides into my eye from a cut on my forehead, blinding me. No, I have to get up. Nothing can stop me. Not now, when I am so close. Not when other lives depend on me doing something so simple.

I struggle to my feet. The world spins, but it is still there. I lift my head to where Verin is still standing. She wears relief plain on her face. Lionel stands nearby, a devilish grin on his face. Five people, maybe more, run onto the field. Healers, attending the injured. A thumbs up from each. Everyone is going to live.

"Kella Blackwood, you have passed your Initiation." The crowd cheers as Verin speaks. She mirrors them, smiling with pride. "Marked of the Rebellion, please stand if you wish to be her Full Mentor."

Silence comes again. Hesitant glances pass between people. Some look like they want to stand, but are afraid. Others look scared of me, while others are horrified by my actions.

One person does stand, though. Dread mixes with pain. This is the last thing I want. It would make everything more complicated. But he stands, and no Full Member in their right mind is going to challenge him.

Red and black hair falls in his face, longer than I remember. Amber yellow-orange eyes stare directly at me, assessing my value. His stance is proud and regal, a black cloak hanging from his shoulders.

"I accept her as my Apprentice," he says. His rare voice is just like the rest of him: prideful and forceful, but delicate and understanding. Excited whispers come from the audience. Of course they whisper. This man rarely appears in public, let alone speaks to the masses.

I don't know anything after that. My task done, I let the darkness and pain take over.