Right foot.. Left foot. Lunge. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my blood. Every move I made felt a thousand times faster, yet so much slower, like I was moving through jello.
Swish. Suddenly his sword was on my throat. With a flick of his wrist he could kill me right now. He knew it just as well as I.
Checkmate. Game over.
This is the best I have ever done sparring with my father. We sparred for at least twenty minutes, but he still out skills me. By a lot. Most people actually outskil me still, no matter the hours I put into it.
"Father, how am I ever going to beat you?" I asked, breathing heavily. I dropped my silver hilted sword onto the hard gym floor. The amethyst jewel in the handle glittered under the florescent lights. It struck me as a bit out of place to be sword fighting in a school gym, but this is where we have to go when Mama's family is over. My father refuses to let anyone watch him train me. I bent over and put my hands on my knees. I could feel the sweat dripping off my body.
"Practice young one." He smiled. His breathing isn't any different than normal. "And the transformation will aid you. It will increase your balance, endurance, flexibility, speed, and many other things." He threw me a water bottle.
"That is 'if' I transform" I said, taking a swig of water. "You can't be sure I will. Not everyone does." I stood up strait and took of my training gloves without looking at him. When I finally looked up I severely regretted saying that.
Parents are extremely passionate about their child's transformation, especially my father. They don't like being reminded it might not happen. My father refuses to believe that there is even a chance it won't.
"Nonsense Valeria." His voice was calm but had an edge of anger. "You are a direct descendant of Veleky Pobedit. You will transform." He gathered all our things, including my sword, then walked out of the gym towards home.
"Crap' I said to myself, "Mama's going to kill me for making him angry." I walked out after him. The fake sky was growing dark, the magical sun setting.
I walked home slowly. I didn't want to listen to my aunt and uncle cry because my cousin Nikita did not transform. I already listened to them last night about how devastated he is, and how his life is over, and he has no idea what to do now. Its not that I don't care, because I do. It's just not something I want to think about. I have just a little more that a year before the rest of my life is decided for me.
On our people's 18th birthday, we go through the Transformation. I've only watched a few of them, and only one I had seen that did not transform. At high noon, the person and whoever they've invited go into the temple and stand there. It takes a couple of minutes, but then the person goes very still. They rise into the air and light engulfs them. It sounds stupid and cheesy, but the amount of power you can feel in that moment makes you see the actual beauty of it. Then they come back down, bearing the mark, forever reminding everyone that they have been chosen to be Zashchitnik. Then we all go eat food and everyone parties. Then a week later, the person is sent to a training camp in Siberia.
Unless nothing happens. My friend Eddie stood in the city square for half an hour, getting more and more anxious every second. At 30 minutes his father started crying. Eddie knelt and started hitting the ground with such force I was surprised an Earthquake didn't follow. He kept screaming no over and over. The polive had to take him away. Now he's in a special "rehab" facility for people who go crazy when they don't transform.
That's what could happen to me, but I'm prepared for that. Even worse could happen, my father would be so ashamed if I didn't Transform, I would probably be disowned and kicked out of the house. I know because his father kicked out my Aunt Sophia.
My thoughts were interrupted by footsteps behind me. I took a quick left turn to see if they followed. They did. My defenses instantly went up. If its a Zlo Noch' following me I'm so screwed. I quickly ducked into an alley. Hopefully I could find... Oh thank god. I dashed to the dead end, where a long piece of bent metal was sitting. This wouldn't kill a Zlo Noch', it wouldn't even hurt it, but hopefully it would distract it long enough for me to run. I braced myself holding the metal in front of me.
My mind and heart were racing, I could feel panic numbing me reflexes. I tried to shake it off, it only barley worked.
I saw a tall shadow come into the alley. I felt the adrenaline and my training kick in and overtake the panic. I let out a blood - curdling scream, whipping the metal over my head, strait toward the shadow's face. Suddenly a large hand came up and grabbed the metal before it made contact.
"Holy crap Valeria! Are you crazy?!" He took the metal and threw it down. Far, far, away from me.
"Dimitri! I thought you were a Zlo Noch'! I could have killed you!" I punched him ion his chest, which came about eye level to me. He didn't even budge.
"No kidding. You almost took my head off with that thing." He pulled me into a bone crushing hug. I tried to escape his vice-like arms, but it was useless. "Sorry for scaring you." He let me go, and I looked up into his chocolate brown eyes. His dark hair was getting too long. It was close to covering his eyes, falling in between them and his thick eyebrows.
He was wearing sweats and a skin hugging t-shirt. I could tell he'd been training. Well, that and the unmistakable stench of man sweat gave it away.
Dimitri has been my best fried since we were little. He's a year older than me almost exactly, his birthday is on December 20th, the day before mine. Our parents are really close, so he's always been over to my house a lot.
When I was 4 I beat the crap out of Stacy Milhone, because she called his mom a slut. Then he carried me home over his shoulder. I was kicking and screaming. My mom still has pictures of him walking down the street, with me flailing about.
Then when he turned 12, we went to a restaurant above ground for his birthday. I got food poisoning, and he held my hair, while I puked. I think his mom has those pictures.
He's almost 6' 7", he has dark hair and eyes. He has a very strong jawline and angular nose. You can tell he is Russian. He even has a Russian accent, which is strange for our people. His parents lived above ground for a long time, so a lot of Russian is spoke in his house. Most girl's my age gush over him any chance they can get.
I realized he was still looking at me. "Come on." I grabbed his had and led him out of the alley. "You're coming to dinner with me."
He tried to act offended, "Well what if I don't want to come to dinner at your house?" He raised one eyebrow at me. I hate when he does that. It makes me jealous because I can't do it no matter how hard I try.
"To bad." I told him, walking in the direction of my house. I could hear his rumbling laugh behind me.
He caught up to me and ruffled my already ridiculous hair. When you see a battle scene in a movie, and a girl's hair stays perfect, that it a lie. "Val?"
I sighed. "Yes Dimitri?"
"You need to get a new battle cry"
I punched him in the arm and walked faster down the winding road. He laughed and followed.
