Lateee update oops
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Silas was aware the girls would be arriving soon. How could he forget? Both the city of Verelys and Castle Verelys were in absolute chaos preparing for the arrival of thirty odd girls from the ten vastly different nations. Silas had tried multiple times to spy on Stelle's planning sessions with Lysandra and the rest of the Selection committee (made up mostly by advisors Silas didn't know), but to no avail.
"It's a surprise, brother dearest," Stelle had said sweetly, slamming the door in his face.
So that was the end of that.
One thing he did know was that there were rumors of the old Coliseum having scaffolding on it, which didn't bode well.
"I'm pretty sure Stelle is going to have them fight to the death for my hand," Silas said to Madi. "It's going to be a literal bloodbath, because she's an absolute psychopath."
"Don't be ridiculous, that's murder," Madi said, not looking up from the letter he was penning. "Even Stelle couldn't get away with that."
"Don't be too certain," Silas grumbled. He flopped back on Madi's bed. "Ugh, I'm so bored. This whole week has been suit-fittings and history lessons and garbage. I want to go train. Come train with me, Madi."
"No. I hate training with you, that arena doesn't have anything living in it," Madi retorted, crossing his arms. "Go ask Fitz."
"Fitz is such a typical Lume, he sucks at fighting," Silas reminded him crossly. "He just shade-strides around and smacks me with a baton until I get a good hit in."
"Harsh. Fitz has some skills."
"Like what? All he's good at is drinking and shitty poetry."
"Well, if you don't want to train with him, ask someone else. Ask Anliu," Madi said, shrugging.
Silas scowled. "...I don't want to."
"Why?" Madi asked absently. When Silas didn't respond, he looked up, eyebrows furrowed. "Why not, Si?"
He kept his lips pressed tightly together, but it was fruitless. Madi's eyes lit up with the realization, and he burst out laughing.
"You're just afraid he's going to kick your ass," Madi taunted, blinding smile stretching from ear to ear. "You are, aren't you?"
"Shut up, Madhavaditya, I am not," Silas hissed, shooting him a glare. "Anliu might be well-trained, but so am I. We're evenly matched, okay?"
"Prove it," Madi said, eyebrows raised. "Go spar with him right now."
Silas ground his teeth for a moment, debating the merits of turning down the challenge, but at last he couldn't resist.
"Fine," he said haughtily. "I'll go find him."
Madi put his pen down and stood up, grinning. "Wonderful, I'll accompany you."
"Oh, now you have time for me," Silas groused, but began trudging obediently to Anliu's room, Madi on his heels.
Anliu opened his door, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Obviously he'd just gotten up from a nap, most likely due to the time change. "What is it?"
Silas steeled his nerve, braced his shoulders, and blurted out, "D'you wanna spar?"
Anliu blinked, processing, and then slowly, his lips quirked into a nearly imperceptible smirk. "Why, Silas, I'm honored. I thought you said 'never again' after last time. So glad you've changed your mind."
"I didn't," Silas corrected, shooting Madi a glare. "Someone changed my mind for me."
"Good man, Madi." Anliu extended a hand to Madi and they shook hands, grinning.
"I'll meet you there in ten," Silas grumbled, a very bad feeling about all this.
"Meet you there," Anliu agreed, smiling.
"C'mon, champ, what's with the face?" Madi asked, shoulder-checking him as they walked. "I thought you wanted to spar with someone?"
"Not with water powers," Silas groused. "I really, really hate fighting water powers."
"How could you hate fighting any power? With your glass, every power should be the same, right?" Madi asked.
"Just because it's impervious to other powers, doesn't mean it equalizes them," Silas corrected peevishly. "You know what sucks about water? Drowning. And Anliu always goes for a healthy drowning."
"A little drowning never killed anybody," Madi said cheerfully, clapping him on the back as they passed through the doors of the locker room. "C'mon, let's get you in your combat suit! I'm actually excited to see this."
"That makes one of us," Silas said sourly.
He stripped off his shirt and pants, and pulled his freshly-pressed combat suit from his locker. The fluid, lightweight material made it ideal for matching Silas during his rigorous training. Even after the two years he'd owned it, the wear and tear had been minimal. Impressive, considering Stelle had been out for blood since he was named heir. Then again, he expected nothing short of the genius minds in Vinterbroste's army technology.
Madi tossed him the harness that strapped his knife to his thigh, and he tightened it on, making sure the blade inside could slip free without issue. The musical thrum of it sliding out of the sheath made him smile, and he stood up, tapping the toes of his boots against the ground to settle into them.
Anliu knocked against the doorframe, clothed in his own combat suit. "You ready?"
"So ready," Silas said, trying to conceal his dread.
They entered the arena and took up positions across from each other in the center. At Silas's nod, Madi pulled the lever labelled 'glass'. Four hatches opened in each corner of the arena, and massive glass cubes about Silas's height were pushed into the enclosure. He then pulled the level labelled 'water', and the back wall slid open to reveal a small waterfall.
Silas's heartbeat began to thunder as he reached out with his magic to feel the glass cubes at his disposal. With the glass in the arena, he had power, and adrenaline began to course as he dropped into a defensive stance.
Madi's voice boomed above them. "On my mark!"
Silas tensed, locking eyes with a stony-faced Anliu. Gone was his easy smile and serene disposition, replaced with single-minded determination. Anliu was always an undeniable sort of intimidating, but now he was positively terrifying.
"Ready? Set…"
Silas drew in a breath.
"GO!"
Silas, because he was Silas, struck immediately. The two glass cubes flanking Anliu sprang into action, barrelling towards him to swallow him up. He was slow to react, to Silas's pleasure, and there was a blessed moment, where hesitation flickered across Anliu's face.
Then his hands swept out in wide, identical arcs, and a roaring wave of water slammed back against the walls of glass. Even with his powers, Anliu couldn't destroy the glass; they both knew that. But the action gave him enough time to sprint out of the way of the glass.
Before he could process what was going on, Anliu jumped and slammed his arms down on the landing, the waves of water following his actions, and slamming down on Silas. He barely avoided his reflexive inhale, and blindly grabbed a magical fistful of glass to grow underneath him and propel him out from the water.
He emerged, gasping and sputtering, and raked the hair plastered to his face out of his eyes.
"Bastard," he choked out, throwing a sloppy right hook of glass that Anliu dodged.
His opponent hung back, dark eyes calculating as Silas got to his feet, breathing heavily. Right, he thought darkly. No more going easy.
He gathered his magic, and summoned a rapidly-rotating spire of glass that fired off shards at a quicksilver rate. Anliu's arms moved fluidly to pull up punches of water that swallowed the glass and slammed it under the water. His technique was precise and efficient, but as he was focused on defending the attackers, Silas slowly felt for the pieces he'd already gotten rid of.
It was tough work to multi-task his magic, and it sort of made his brain feel like it was going to split open, but he gathered the shards under the surface, and then in a burst of effort, sent them hurling out from under the water at Anliu's distracted back.
To his credit, some sixth sense ingrained in Anliu had him twisting to respond even as it happened, but he was slightly too slow. Four of the six shards lodged in his shoulder and biceps, and one other shaved across the back of his head.
With that ploy played, Silas scrambled to figure out his next move, and frantically gathered all the loose glass he'd already scattered. The glass in his opponent's bloodstream would weaken his powers, given a moment to kick in, so he just needed to stall for a moment. One more second, and he'd be able to grab all the glass and make sure Anliu couldn't win.
Unfortunately, Anliu had an annoyingly high pain threshold and didn't even spare the crucial moment Silas needed, not even to cry out in pain. Instead, he whipped around, flinty eyes glinting with irritation, and raised his uninjured arm.
For a moment, Silas thought nothing had happened, and then something from behind him slammed into the back of his head like a brick, and he took a breath of pure water. His lungs seized at the invasion, and he coughed soundlessly into the water that enveloped his head, trying not to–
The initial plunge sucked all the air out of his lungs, and shock at the sudden cold flooded through his bones. Immediately panicked, he opened his mouth to try to replace the lost oxygen. The water was cold and unfamiliar and thick in his mouth, and he thrashed his body around, scrambling for purchase on something. His lungs burned, and he couldn't open his eyes; he could feel himself growing weaker in his struggle. He couldn't find the surface, why couldn't he find the surface?
Help, he screamed soundlessly into the water, a mistake that cost him another choking fit. He was growing hazy and light-headed, his movements turning sluggish.
Just before he thought he was done for, he felt a pair of hands brace around his ribs and pull him out of the water.
"Silas! Oh my god, Silas! Breathe, breathe!" she begged urgently, but her voice was faraway and tinny.
"Maman?" he wheezed, his breathing coming out jagged and weak. "Maman… Maman…"
"Silas, cough, cough it all out," she told him frantically. "Cough it, or Maman can't help you!"
He tried to do as obeyed, but it quickly drained the little energy he had, and a moment later, his eyes were rolling back in his head.
"Silas!"
Maman!
Maman...
"Silas! Silas breathe!" came a calm, clear voice. "Silas!"
He sputtered awake, spitting out water, and sat straight up, narrowly avoiding head-butting Madi, who had been sitting above him. Without a second thought, he rolled to his hands and knees and coughed up another load of water, stomach roiling.
"Jesus Christ, Silas, you gave us a scare," Madi said, rubbing his back as he plopped back into a seated position, finished. "You just passed out without warning."
"Ugh," he groaned instead of answering. "Again, Anliu?"
The last time they'd fought, Anliu had drastically miscalculated how long Silas could survive underwater, and it had led to Silas passing out. Upon waking up embarrassed, confused, and waterlogged, he'd vowed never to spar with Anliu again.
"I don't think it was me," Anliu said slowly, his forehead puckered. He was shirtless, and the healer, Keir, was kneeled next to him, healing the wounds Silas had inflicted. "I had you under for about five seconds, you've survived much longer than that. It was like as soon as my water touched you, you just passed out."
"Then you basically tried to inhale the whole thing," Madi joked weakly. His forced smile faded, and he put an arm around Silas, barely flinching at his drenched state. "Seriously, Si, are you alright?"
"Fine," he rasped out. "I just… I think I had a flashback to a memory of when I was kid."
"A flashback?" Anliu asked, surprised. "Have you ever had one before?"
"Not that I know of," Silas answered slowly, drawing his knees up to his chin. "I remembered being really young, and drowning somehow. But then I guess my mom pulled me out at the end, so I was alright."
Madi and Anliu exchanged a glance, the same glance they always did whenever Silas brought up his mom. It spelled concern and worry and pity, and Silas hated seeing it. It made him feel young, like he was still fragile, still something to be sheltered and coddled.
He pulled away from Madi and got unsteadily to his feet, pointedly ignoring both of their attempts to stabilize him. "Listen. I think I've had enough, I'm going to go."
"Silas, wait, do you want to talk about this?" Madi called after him. "I know when it comes to your mom–,"
"I'm fine," he said flatly. "I just need to be dry and alone right now."
There was a quiet exchange behind him, and Silas picked up his pace before one of them elected the other to follow him and force him to talk about his feelings. Yuck. The thought didn't appeal to him at all.
Mercifully, they seemed to have decided to give him space, and he managed to make it back to his room without interruption, dripping a steady trail of water all the way.
The memory had been jarring to say the least. Considering Silas went through all the effort never to think about anything concerning his mother, this was a rude awakening. In fact, he'd spent so much time training himself not to think about her, he might as well have asked a memory specialist from Ethotaur to bury the memories of her entirely. He'd considered it, once or twice, but eventually decided he might want the memories later, when it was less painful and he could actually enjoy them.
But then this. This had happened, and now he was so full of missing her that he was brimming over with it.
Fuck this. He didn't want to be alone, his thoughts were getting too loud. As much as he detested the idea, he needed to go seek human company.
Silas changed into dry clothes and stepped into a new pair of shoes. Once, when he was little, he might have gone to Stelle's room and looked for solace. Now… well, that wasn't really an option, was it?
He grabbed his favorite worn hat on his way out and pulled the earflaps down determinedly. He'd just have to make do.
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"Uh oh, you're in the sulking hat," Faris said dryly as he shuffled into the art studio. "What's happened, Silas?"
He perched on a stool and studied Faris's handiwork. "Nothing, just started spiraling a little. Distract me?"
"Sure." Faris turned to smooth an edge of his latest sculpture. Under the pads of his bare fingers, the edge warped slightly to fit his liking. "Would you like to join me? There's an extra block of glass in the corner."
"You're the artistic one, not me," Silas said, but he hopped down anyway, and walked to the second countertop, beckoning the cube over. It piled sloppily on his work surface, and he frowned at it.
"Doesn't matter, you're just passing time," Faris said gently. "Anyway, you'd be plenty artistic if you worked at it a little instead of roughhousing with Stelle all the time.
He said the latter sentence with an air of unmistakably pompous distaste, and Silas chuckled. "If I didn't what with Stelle all the time?"
"You know, roughhouse. Engage in fisticuffs," Faris said primly.
"Fisticuffs," Silas repeated, amused. He tried valiantly to shape his glass into a face, but only succeeded in making a primitive and decidedly creepy smiley potato. "Why is this actually hard?"
"Mm, I make it look easy," Faris said, smiling. "Here, what exactly are you trying to make?"
Silas swallowed. "Mom."
Faris froze. Glanced up at him carefully. Then he exhaled slowly. "Okay, well start by defining the facial structure, and build the features on top. Mind her nose, make sure it's nice and narrow."
"Like this?"
Faris peered over Silas's shoulder and shook his head. He reached over, and like it was nothing, managed to capture the perfect slope of their mother's nose.
"Thanks."
"Mm hm. So, is she what this is all about?" Faris asked casually, not looking up from his work.
"A little. I just remembered a weird memory from when we were young," Silas said, brow furrowing in concentration as he tried to remember the shape of her mouth. "Do you remember if I ever drowned as a kid?"
"Not really," Faris said, brow furrowing. "I was probably pretty young if it did happen, but I don't remember hearing anything about it. Stelle would probably know, if you asked her."
Silas laughed at that, shaking his head. "Yeah, not happening. I don't need to know that badly."
Faris shrugged. "Suit yourself. So a drowning memory, huh? Anything significant about it?"
"Not really. Just that I was drowning and mom pulled me out." He leaned closer as he tried to capture the shape of his mom's eyes. "It wasn't very long either."
"Did anything trigger it?" Faris asked. "Careful on your creases, by the way, they're a little harsh right now."
Silas obligatorily softened his lines. "Yeah, I was training with Anliu and had a little drowning moment. I guess it triggered something."
Faris grimaced sympathetically. "That must be irritating. Maybe you should ask Dad to call a memory specialist in. I'm sure they could clean it up pretty quick."
"I don't want anyone from Ethotaur poking around my brain. Freaky lot, they are," Silas said archly. "I'd rather just deal with the flashbacks."
Faris sighed and nodded. "I thought you might say that."
Silas just shrugged. Out of all the nations, even Vinterbroste with their unflinching callousness, and Coranzorre with their lewd, gory culture, he distrusted Ethotaur the most. Anyone who lived in caves their whole lives couldn't possibly be all human, and their brands of powers really were the most off-putting. He was rather glad they so rarely came to the surface. If everyday people could simply read his mind all the time, he might never leave the palace.
"How's this?" he said at last, stepping back from his sculpture. "Could be Mom's twin, eh?"
Faris glanced over, and couldn't hide the grimace that stole over his face fast enough, earning a punch from Silas.
"I saw that!"
"No, it's good! It's good," Faris yelped, dancing out of the way of a follow-up smack. "Very abstract!"
"I was going for realism," Silas snapped, glowering down at his artistic attempt. It looked a bit like a grotesque demon, with the exception of the slender and expertly smoothed nose.
"Well… you have other talents," Faris said at last, patting him sympathetically. "Done with your sulk now?"
"Yeah," he admitted, half-smiling. "Thanks. I should probably leave you to your work. What is it anyway?"
Faris glanced back at his sculpture, still an unintelligible mass of glass. "Not sure yet. I'll let you know when I find out."
"I'll look forward to that," Silas said, sliding his hands in his pockets.
Faris bent back over his work, absorbed in it once more, and Silas wandered out of the studio. He carefully shut the door behind him, and turned to walk away, only to come face-to-face with Anliu.
"Hey, I thought you might be here," Anliu said, smiling. "Can I walk with you?"
"Sure," Silas shrugged. "I'm just headed back to my room. What's up?"
"Just wanted to check up on you," Anliu said, shooting Silas a sideways look. "And apologize."
"What for? You won the fight," Silas replied grudgingly. He added in a slightly quieter tone, "Again."
Anliu crossed his arms, eyes pinned on the floor. "No. Not today. Let's call it a draw, alright?"
"It's fine, Anliu, you won, just–,"
"A draw," Anliu said firmly, looking him seriously in the eyes.
Silas pressed his lips together, and then nodded. "Alright. A draw. Maybe we can have a rematch later. I'll try not to pass out next time."
Anliu lit up with a smile, a rare sight on him. "Well, I'll try to avoid drowning you then."
"Eh. A little drowning never killed anyone," Silas echoed sagely. "Sorry for stabbing you, by the way."
"What's a little stabbing between friends," Anliu said warmly, glancing at him with bright eyes. "A drowning for a stabbing. Now we're even."
"Mm. Just saying, though, I'm pretty sure I was winning when we stopped," Silas said offhandedly.
Anliu tilted his head, squinting. "Well, I don't know if I would quite say that. Pretty sure I had control of the situation."
"Huh, really? Could have sworn I got the jump on you with that back-stabbing trick," Silas said, feigning confusion. "And doesn't glass…weaken…? Oh! That's right, it weakens your powers! I'd say I was going to win that fight."
"Well, you didn't know what I had planned next, it was a new special move I was going to pull that would have won the fight for sure," Anliu said, smirking.
"Oh, yeah? What move would that be?"
He snorted. "I can't tell you now, I'm saving it."
"Hm, very convenient," Silas teased.
They continued down the hallway, bickering and passive-aggressively asserting their respective victories. And if Anliu reluctantly allowed Silas to insinuate that he would have won if they'd continued the fight, well, what else were friends for?
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Alrighty, leave love for me and HEAD'S UP! This is the last week submissions will stay open. You can reserve a spot all week, but once next week's chapter comes out, submissions will be closed.
Please go show Haixin, Kaze-han and Blitzerren some love! They're vv lonely and im sad now :((
Thanks to everyone who's already submitted, and everyone who's working on their forms!
Have a great day yall, I'll see you next time for some...POV's? Mayhaps?
