Black Feather Falls (COMPLETE)

HATECA'S DREAM

August 12th, 1261

Hateca had taken her children on a family vacation to London and has been there for over 3 weeks, with tomorrow being the final day. In the rural side of London, was a decent sized log cabin a way's off from the bank of a river with crystal blue waters, streaming down from the mountains. To the back of the cabin is a massive empty plot of land, with overgrown and dead grass which they used as their training ground.

"We're going up by the grasslands mom!" Micah beckoned out as he stepped out the door. "Mikael! Hurry, we don't have all day you know." Micah, now thirteen years, has been taking Mikael up to the grassland daily to train him, in obedience with his mother's wishes. He's dressed in raggedy old shorts, a white T-shirt, and an old worn-down pair of sneakers. His mother hated when he dressed like that because she's bought enough clothes for him to not dress like he's homeless.

"My apologies, brother, I was tying my shoes lace." He says softly while rushing out the house.

"And you couldn't have done that out here?" He sighed aloud, knelt down. "And even with all that time you took, you still didn't tie them properly." He tied them properly for him, looked up into his green eyes and rested his hand on his head. "You know I love you right, brother?" Mikael's face lights up like a Christmas tree. "You know, that right?" He messes up his midnight black hair with his hand.

"Though your clandestine ways of training me often leave me questioning that sentiment. I do." He cast a gleeful childish smile at his brother which exposed his perfectly aligned teeth.

"Good, monkey." His nickname for Mikael. He stood up. "Now, do you remember how to teleport-don't answer- because you're going to teleport us."

"What if--"

"What if, nothing!" He spoke commandingly while resting his hands on his waist, casting a stare of calm anticipation at him. "You're five years old- six this year- all your excuses are invalid!" He gives him a playful nudge in his chest that echoed loudly. It hurt.

"Ouch!" He yelled.

"Cease your whining" The relationship between these two has always been something built on pain, love and torment.

"It hurt." He began rubbing his stomach and frowned gloomily at his brother.

"Do it." Micah encouraged.

"But-"

"Today, Mikael!" He said assertively. "Now!" Militancy emanated from him in waves. His eyes, green as the forest, bore into Mikael with no remorse whatsoever.

"Dear brother, is all this yelling necessary?" Mikael grabbed his brother's hand and begins shaking nervously, so much so that sweat begins dripping down his face like rain.

"Calm down." Micah placed his free hand on his hand and repeats what Mia did to him. "You can do this. You are the son of a God; there's nothing you can't do!"

"Okay." He quelled his shaking, drew in a deep breath and with one fell swoop, he snapped his fingers and within seconds they arrived in a swirling vortex of fire. He flopped to the ground, unable to contain his elation. "I did it!" He said joyfully. Micah had a small, almost invisible, smile of proudness son his face. The oldest of the bunch and the most ruthless. Physically, he is the strongest sibling and expectedly, the most mature. Micah is the brother that pushes you to your limit and leaves you to wallow in your own weakness. A trait, his mother claims he garnered from his father. A father he knew nothing about but has a strong desire to know. Micah, for his age, has a very muscular body type which is due to his rigorous training from day to night.