Chapter 3
CHAPTER
It all began decades ago.
People born with magic residing within them.
At first they were treated as mutants, devil’s offspring, outcasts.
But then, one of them showed what their magic could do for humanity.
Fire brought warmth. Those with power over earth helped soil stay fertile, making it easier to farm it over and over without the fear of crops dying.
The water mages gave us infinite water—with free access to clean water, many diseases were eradicated.
It was all bliss, until one day, greed crept in.
Humans wanted more. Power. Control.
That was their opening—the demons were tethered to the mages through the magic they were using. The continued use was the force that kept the monsters in our world, enabling their rampage. Whispers, temptations, the promise of more, for mages to become the ones we couldn’t survive without.
The firsts never knew what price they ended up paying, what we all had to endure because of their greed. Power was given, and a door was opened. The demons stepped through in all kinds of shapes and forms.
The most common were elemental demons, they provided more power to their mage and in return, they could run amok. Fire demons ravaged through the deserts, water demons lurking in the lakes and seas.
But then there were those mages who wished to rid themselves of qualities that hindered them; love, compassion, guilt. The price was steep, as shapeshifting demons often accepted this tribute, allowing them to steal the faces of others.
People without any magic were affected the most; caught in the crossfire, they didn’t stand a chance against the mages gone mad with power, or the demons who simply craved to devour.
And so, war broke out amongst the three of them. Mages, demons and regular humans, locked in a fight for survival.
The second round of the trials was not something anyone could manipulate.
Health evaluation.
They did some blood tests, checked our eyesight, mental health and so much more.
The ones with sharp sight were plucked directly into the sniper quarters. Those with bad nerves might become administrative personnel instead of being in the middle of the battlefield, thus not being allowed to truly join the Ashen Corps.
I simply wanted to fight, it was the only thing I knew how to do, the single thing I felt confident that I could excel at, with time.
After getting my blood tested, they sent me back to the large warehouse, where a group of people still lingered.
Some familiar faces, along with a couple of new ones.
I noted that Lionel hadn’t returned here yet, but Ashley had.
“We keep meeting like this,” she smiled teasingly.
I placed myself next to her, finding some peace in knowing that I wasn’t on her target list, for now.
“Congratulations, you’re all here because you’re qualified to receive my attention,” Rohan’s voice echoed in the large room as he entered from the far side.
I wondered how many lives he had taken to become so arrogant, or rather how many he had seen die to become so utterly bitter.
“First trial showed you’re driven to survive, second that you’re not all lunatics,” he continued, not even glancing at us as he pulled his gloves on and straightened his leather jacket. “This is the last trial, and if you fail to impress me, you’ll go home knowing you were born to die.”
His voice turned from bored to cold steel within seconds, as his eyes shot up and took a good look at each and every one of us. There was nothing kind about his dark eyes, it was as if we were nothing but dirt underneath his boots.
“Nathanial Wickham,” Rohan said, like a threat.
A second passed, before a man stepped out from the crowd. His dark, brown tousled hair seemed almost wet from the moist air. He straightened himself, his hazel eyes locking onto his target as Rohan waved his finger at him, daring him to attack.
The man didn’t hesitate as he lunged, not intimidated by the taunt or arrogance the Sergeant was showing.
No weapons, only fists. At first, the man made broad, wild swings that Rohan had no trouble dodging; instead, he prepared a counter in the middle of a dodge, connecting with Nathanial’s abdomen, the sound of it echoing along with his breath.
His hazel eyes turned animalistic and when another attack came from Rohan, the man slid away, took three quick steps and charged right into the Sergeant.
They fell to the floor and Rohan merely smirked at the notion, not at all fazed by his opponent having the upper hand.
Nathanial straddled him, readying himself to land a few punches right to the face, but Rohan caught his hands and tumbled them around.
Once out of the grip, he pushed himself up to his feet again, brushing off the dirt as if remaining clean was the most pressing issue.
I huffed at the sight of it, earning a chuckle from Ashley.
“Not only brute force, good,” Rohan praised his opponent as he got up.
The Sergeant attacked Nathanial with his fist, but as he ducked away, Rohan changed his tactic and swept out his leg, knocking Nathanial right back down.
“You need to be quicker,” The Sergeant’s voice was back to boredom, taunting the man, who was setting an example for us all.
Nathanial gritted his teeth, getting himself up again and threw a dozen attacks against Rohan; none of them were enough to make him stagger, but he managed to stall him, preventing the Sergeant from finding a hole in his attacks.
Rohan threw himself backwards, making his opponent’s attack fly wide in the air, before he charged right back. Nathaniel saw it coming, spinning around and avoiding Rohan’s grip before kicking his back, making him stumble for balance.
Silence fell and they stopped in their tracks, all of us holding our breaths.
A small scoff sounded, before Rohan turned around and smirked. “You pass.”
Murmurs spread around the group, but Nathaniel only smiled back at him, softening with each breath, before he nodded and stepped back into the group.
“You want me to take the next one?” one of the other soldiers asked the Sergeant. It earned him nothing but a sharp glare. “Are you kidding?”
“I… ehm… sorry sir.”
Rohan’s jaw worked, his eyes not leaving the soldier, almost as if considering attacking him next.
“Ethalyn Deering,” he shot out, without looking away from the soldier.
I took a deep breath, my pulse racing at the sound of my name. As I stepped forward, I shrugged my shoulders in an attempt to calm my nerves, I had no need for them here.
Slowly, his dark eyes shifted, until they met with mine. His face was blank; I wasn’t able to tell if he was disappointed or not, but I had sparred against people before, so this wasn’t new.
I curled my hand into a fist, then stretched it open again, repeated it a few times.
Rohan lunged at me, faster than I thought, but I side-stepped.
His elbow came flying, and I avoided it by parrying with my arm.
Not even a second passed, before his other arm swung from the opposite direction, and I barely had time to put my fist up and stop it from connecting with my face.
He was fast, focused and tried to find my weaknesses by changing his attacks, putting pressure on me to respond quickly.
He whipped his leg in a wide swing, but I crouched down to the dirty floor, before I threw myself back up and tackled him with my side right into his chest.
It was like hitting a brick wall—I was surprised that I hadn’t been able to force him back even the slightest. His arms wrapped around me, grappling as he swept me up in the air and threw me. I crashed into some of the boxes to the side.
Sand poured out of one of them, while the other crate had been filled with unloaded weapons, my entire body ached from the impact.
Rohan was slowly stalking closer, his eyes blank, he looked emotionless and the mere thought sent a chill down my spine.
I filled my hands with sand, pushed myself up and charged at him.
Once close, I threw the sand in his face.
He shielded his arm, but he lost sight of me nonetheless, and I took a hold of his wrist, spun it around and forced it up against his back.
He grunted slightly at the uncomfortable twist, but quickly regained his senses and tried to break out of my grip. “That’s it? That’s all you can do?” he chuckled tauntingly, as he spun around.
He caught me with his free arm, clenching it around my throat and cutting off my air supply. I hissed violently as I clawed at his arm.
Rohan sighed loudly behind me and my heart started racing.
No.
No this can’t be it, I can’t fail here.
I grabbed hold of his wrist again, pouring all my strength into it. We had barely moved around, yet I already felt warm from the quick movements.
Rohan flinched at my grip, as if surprised that I hadn’t given up.
I forced his arm away, before I tumbled to the ground.
My eyes darted back to him, his brows slightly furrowed as he looked at me.
I used his confusion to my advantage and placed all my weight on my hands before I kicked him in the stomach.
He staggered backwards a few steps, giving me enough time to get back on my own feet.
I spun around, my hands balled into fists ready for another go, but… he just stood there, looking at me.
Was it another test? I kept my hands ready, studying him but he didn’t flinch.
Confused, I tried to take a swing at him, but he caught my wrist and squeezed it. By instinct I opened my hand and his eyes darted to the palm of it.
A moment passed, before he shoved me backwards.
“You pass,” his voice cold as ice, his eyes seemed darker than ever.
I should’ve been glad about it, but the way he faced me made me doubt my own feelings. Wasn’t it good that I had passed the test? Or was it that he had been ready to throw me away but I proved him wrong?
I straightened myself, letting my arms fall to my sides, staring right back at him.
The corner of his mouth twitched, before he chuckled low and threatening, like he was a starved beast.
“Back in line,” he threatened with his voice sharp as broken glass.
I nodded, before I raised my chin at him and walked back towards the group. Heat lingered in the air—I always got so worked up while training. But once I was back next to Ashley, I was finally able to breathe normally again, my skin cooling quickly.
Whether it was because of his first two passes, or that the others weren’t as resolved, I wasn’t sure, but after my sparring with the Sergeant, other recruits kept losing. Rohan sent them flying to the ground, pinning them down, even choking a few, until they surrendered in fear.
He seemed more aggressive, as if every pass he allowed fueled him into wanting to stop the next person from succeeding even more.
I glanced at Ashley, she hadn’t been called up yet, I wondered how she felt about witnessing it all unravel in front of her, while simply waiting for her turn. Her icy blue eyes seemed vacant, empty, as if there was nothing of interest in her view.
“You okay?” I whispered, nudging her with my elbow.
Her eyes snapped to me, shifting in an instant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Right,” I shrugged. “You’re never scared?”
Slowly, her eyes drifted to the one sparring against the Sergeant. “There is nothing scarier than not making the cut.”
I was in no position to argue, there was nothing but certain death waiting for those who failed.
“Fair point,” I muttered.
Another girl fell to the floor, as Rohan placed his arm across her chest, pinning her against the floor. I glanced around, restlessly… where was Lionel? Why hadn’t he come back yet?
“Maybe he failed,” Ashley murmured.
“What?”
“Your friend… or perhaps he was assigned to another task?” her voice was so calm, I could barely believe it was the same person who had been in the first trial along with me.
“He’s mentally fine, but I guess he’s good at calculating things…” I crossed my arms, pondering the thought. The idea of him failing the health tests was simply out of the question, if I passed, he would have too.
“Ashley Briarsen.”
She was called forth, and instead of tension, she was radiating eagerness. A smile found its way back to her lips and her eyes almost glittered as she began skittering towards Rohan.
I had to remember to never get on her bad side, as I realised ‘Bomb Girl’ might’ve been her nickname for handling explosives at first, but I was starting to see other possibilities as well… She was fierce in a compelling way.
Rohan had nothing on her—she danced around his outbursts.
All of a sudden, fireworks went off behind the crowd, exploding in a display of every color, startling us all.
She had prepared them behind our backs and she took full advantage of the distraction as she wrestled him down.
Once he regained his focus he was able to get out of her hold.
“Pass,” he hissed at her, irritated that another one had succeeded.
She grinned at him, all cocky as she skittered back to the rest of the group.
I felt bad for the next person who was up against him.
The doors swung open, and more potential recruits entered. Some looked promising, others thin like sticks, on the verge of starvation. What if he broke them in half while sparring?
I shivered at the thought of it, surely that wouldn’t be allowed.
Right?