Connor Pallitan isn't normal, he's known that since the day he was born. Left alone in the woods, cloaked in protective fire, its a wonder the boy survived for a year. But eighteen? A miracle.
But then, all hell breaks loose, and it's up to Conner t...
⠀⠀⠀⠀Connor paced through the war room, waiting impatiently for his friends to return from their mission. Emile had estimated that the longest it could take for the mission to conclude was until sundown. And as rain poured past their windows he began to grow anxious. "Where are they!?" He asked, slamming his hand on the war table. Felix, who was sitting at the table, sighed.
"Connor, they're probably making their way back about now." Felix lazily predicted. He had no idea where they were, nor did he have a general idea of when they would be back, but he was getting sick of Connor's pacing. "Look if you're that tense maybe you should go train, let off some steam. I'll come get you when they return." He suggested.
Connor looked shocked, maybe even a little offended at Felix's suggestion. How the hell was he supposed to train while his friends were out there, possibly dying. "I should have gone with them!" He regretted, returning to his pacing.
"It's too late for regret now, I'm afraid." Emile stated, resting his head in his hand. Having put every ounce of magic he had in his staff had left him tired, and ever so empty. He wondered how humans survived without the warm feeling of magic rushing through them, how they lived with the constant blankness in their heads where his magic wondered.
"Obviously!" Connor shouted, eyes snapping at Emile. Felix had had enough, slamming his hands against the table, he stood.
"Connor, lets go train." He ordered, picking his sword up from the table and making his way to the door.
"I don't want to." He said, trying not to sound like a poring child. He was failing. Felix, extremely frustrated, grabbed his forearm and pulled him close to his face with an angry, obviously annoyed expression.
"That wasn't a request, it was an order." He reminded him in a grim, deep voice. And, having lost the argument, Connor pulled his arm from Felix's grasp and followed out to the back of the palace.
Felix swung open the door, the sound of rushing rain calming the both of them as they stepped into the clouded outdoors, both wearing jackets to keep from getting a cold. "What are we doing out here? It's raining." He blankly stated, Felix snickered.
"Do you really think the kings of hell are going to care if they send their demons out in a storm?" Felix asked sarcastically, tossing Connor a sword that immediately began to sizzle at his touch.
"No, I suppose not." He agreed, pulling the blade out of its holster. The blade was flickering, but not yet on fire.
"Then neither will we." He finished, setting up a training dummy covered in armor. "Now light up your sword and attack." He ordered, leaning up against a wooden column, his arms folded over his chest.
