chapter twelve

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Strength does not
Come from winning.
Your struggles develop your strengths.
When you go through hardships
And decide not to surrender,
That is strength.

-Mahatma Gandhi-

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There was a loud zap as the portal clamped shut, Phoenix stood astonished before Len coarsely prodded his arm with a light punch.

"What did you do?" She snarled aggressively, her eyebrows pulled together threateningly as her lips twitched into a grim frown. Phoenix summoned his teleportation energy but a swirling concussed feeling bobbed into his head. His arms fell at his side as he hissed with pain.

"I don't know," he shook his head, before his eyes wandered to a dazed Tezrah. "It just. . .closed."

"Well, contrive to make another one," Len said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Her expression corroborated seething anger, while her eyes glistened with utter impatience.

"It's not a bloody cakewalk, Len Javen!" Phoenix pointed out, restraining from the urge to let his ire get the best of him. He inhaled calmly before reaching out and repeating his method again, just as before, the agonizing whirling emerged in his head.

"Dammit," the recently amenable task had turned into torture for the guardian. The disappointment in Len's eyes aggravated things further, Phoenix felt useless now.

"My conjecture is if the portal wasn't shut by Phoenix in this realm then perhaps by someone from the other side," Tezrah suggested, rubbing his chin with cogitation. Len looked at him as if he were a mental asylum escapee.

"That's absurd," she scoffed arrogantly. "Who could possibly-"

Her sentence was cut off by Tezrah, who nudged her hard with his elbow and pressed a cautious finger to his lips. Len frowned when Tezrah jutted a finger at the window, befogged by his actions Len followed the direction until her eyes landed on the hunched figure outside.

Its skin blended well with the dark, pointed ears listened intently while a charred nose twitched momentarily. With wings for arms and dark long legs, it was the complete man-bat package.

It seemed to be focusing on the skies, Len was not sure if it was here to kill them or just watch the gleaming stars.

Len's lips broke apart to speak but another nudge from Tezrah told her that now was not the time. Phoenix pointed his chin to the door and mouthed the word out. For once, Len willingly comported with his command as she tiptoed out of the room in haste. The boys followed close behind, the three teenagers leered about until they reached the stairs.

The trio walked in a tensed line all the way to the next floor, it wasn't until they were in the confinement of the nearest room that Len decided to break the berg of wary silence.

"What is that? And what is it doing here?" She closed the door quietly behind them, fastened the latch and spun around to a pair of clueless faces.

"No idea," Phoenix shrugged. "It looks like a bat. . ."

"No shit, Sherlock," Len said, her voice thickly iced with sarcasm. She didn't like Phoenix, not one bit. There was something off about him, his seemingly dulcet eyes had fooled all but her. A story dwelled behind his beaming charisma, and at times he looked fettered and lost. Len knew that his past was not a happy one.

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