Dark Matter

Chapter Eleven

There is tension in the air of the training room. More than what normally would be. I can sense the Darkness sizzling in people's veins, waiting to explode, waiting to destroy.

I approach Mare and Maven cautiously. I haven't talked to either of them in a while. Julian has been preparing me for the ball even more intensively than before. It's safe to say I'm nervous, but I know I can handle it. I take a look over at Mare and Maven. I know that we can handle it.

"Hello Mare." I nod at her "Maven." Another curt nod.

"So what's going on?" Mare asks, uneasily shifting her weight on her feet. She looks stronger than she did the first time I saw her. When she was malnourished but never weak. Weakness comes when you're weak to the bone, and Mare is anything but that.

Maven shakes his head. "You'll see in a bit." He turn towards me, offering a small smile. He turns around before I get the chance to return it.

When Arven enters with Provos, even he has a strange spring in his step. He doesn't bark out an order to run and approaches the class instead.

"Tirana," Instructor Arven murmurs.

A girl in a blue-striped suit, the nymph from House Osanos, jumps to attention. She makes her way toward the center of the floor, waiting for something. She looks equal parts excited and terrified.

Arven turns, searching through us. For a second, his eyes linger on me and Mare, standing close to each other, but thankfully shift to Maven.

"Prince Maven, if you please." He gestures to where Tirana waits.

Maven nods and moves to stand beside her. Both of them tense, fingers twitching as they await whatever's coming.

I have the sickening urge to close my eyes. Battles or Duels as the scientists liked to call them were quite common amongst the Subjects. Some were absolutely brabaric, leading to a complete bloodbath. A bloodbath you healed from, but not so scarcely wouldn't want to heal from.

Suddenly, the training floor moves around them, pushing clear walls up to form something. Again, Provos raises his arms, using his abilities to transform the training hall. As the structure takes shape, I clench my fists, resisting the urge to shut my eyes. It's an arena.

At the facility fights were to test our strength, our power, our stamina. I still remember the score system. Three wins from someone means you're stronger than them. Three ties make you equal. And the most horrid one. Three ultimate failures means you're out.

In the center of the quickly forming arena, both Maven and Tirana prepare for their match. Maven's bracelet sparks, and fire blazes in his hands, streaking up his arms, while droplets of moisture leech from the air to swirl around Tirana in a ghostly display. Both of them look ready for battle.

I remember my first fight. I was beyond terrified yet I still managed to come out victorious. Well, as victorious as being in the facility lets you. I'd never lost a fight before. Sometimes I wish I had. Having to crush the only people who might understand you to the ground is not a joyous memory. I hope they forgive me. I hope they forget me.

The last two pieces lock together, completing the training arena and fencing in Maven and his opponent. Now they're separated from the rest of us by thick glass, trapped together in a miniature version of a battle arena.

"Who has the advantage?" Arven says, questioning the class. Every hand but mine and Mare's shoots into the air. "Elane?"

The Haven girl juts her chin forward, speaking proudly. "Tirana has the advantage. She is older and more experienced." Elane says this like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Maven's cheeks flush white, though he tries to hide it. "And water defeats fire."