The Blood in Our Veins

Chapter Forty - Lost and Found

- One Week Later -

 "Come on, Snowflake. You know you want to." Michael said. I glared at the commander for using the hated nickname. He had been pestering me all day, wanting a demonstration of my power.

 "No. I'm not some kind of freak show." I told him for the thousandth time. The man was twenty years old, but he acted as if he were eight.

"Please?" he dragged out, batting his eyelashes. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"I said no. Now buzz off. Dimitri's going to punish me if I'm late to Training." I reminded him, and jogged ahead. Michael matched my pace.

"Can I watch?" he asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because High King Gallahein ordered that no one is to witness it without authorization." I explained. "Scram. I have work to do." Reluctantly, the man veered away, leaving me with my thoughts. I fixed my hood, making sure that it covered me properly. I was only allowed to take off the mask during the night, when no Resistance spies could see me clearly enough to figure out my identity. For that, I was thankful. There was no possible way that any of the soldiers in our army worked for Tristan. Before they joined, they were forced to drink a horrid truth concoction. Those who were found guilty of treason were executed before the day was out.

I looked around to make sure I wasn't being followed. Without a word, I slipped into the trees, toward the west. In time, I reached a clearing, empty but for the few practice dummies, targets, and Dimitri. "You ready to start?" he questioned. I nodded and stepped toward him. "We'll work on your offensive. First position."

I placed my feet shoulder width apart and bent my knees slightly, with my fists tucked neatly by my midsection. "Call your lightning forth." my Trainer commanded. The white-hot power sparked to life, weaving its way between my fingers. I let my eyes close. Without the instructions being relayed to me, I slowly uncurled my hands and moved them toward eachother. In a great circular motion, I spun my hands, willing the lightning to form an orb between my palms. I shifted my weight to my right foot and bent the knee more, straightening my left leg. I turned my upper body to face where my right foot pointed and opened my eyes. I took a deep breath and pressed the power from my hands, hoping that it would slam into the target situated on the other side of the area. It shot out of my grasp, and, just before it struck the red circle in the center, it sputtered out. I sighed and straightened, half-ready for the punishment Dimitri was bound to give me. What would it be this time? The whip? Burning? Drowning? Possibly the carving of poetry into my flesh?

"Nice try. Do it again. This time, focus more on the journey of the orb, not on the formation." he said encouragingly. I stared at him, shocked.

"What? No weapons? No torture? WHO ARE YOU, AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH DIMITRI?!" I demanded. The Trainer laughed.

"I am Dimitri." he said.

"Prove it." I challenged. He sighed.

"About a month ago, I cut off your right leg at mid thigh because-" he cut off, not wanting to continue. I grinned.

"Because...?" I pressed. He muttered something unintelligible. "I can't hear you!"

"Because you decided that it would be funny to dump a wagon load of horse muck on my head!" he cried. I smirked.

"The look on your face was worth every drop of blood." I smiled. Hm. I guess it wasn't such a long story...

Dimitri pulled out his dagger and removed the hilt. "Speaking of blood, hold out your arm." he commanded. I groaned inwardly.