At this age, we are told to discover what it is we want to become in the near future; what we work and aspire to be. And I have found mine. Although it is rather a hard and ambitious career I hope to pursue, it is one I thoroughly enjoy doing and I hope to do so in the near future.
What could it be, you may ask? Well, it’s to be an author. I love to write, basically. It becomes an activity of release that sends my body in a realm of pure ecstasy and comfort.
I have written and still continue to write. And for all of you out there, I want to show a small exemplar of my works.
This book is titled: A Truly Madly Deadly Secret. (Enjoy :D)
I can feel a bead of sweat dripping down my forehead. I tense my muscles, squinting my eyes on the yellow ball in front of me, my arms become taut, causing the veins to pop out. And just like that, I enter a state of complete focus. I don’t see the ball as a ball, but a sphere of particles. I imagine being able to move those particles, commanding them to move with my mind.
Rise! I say in my mind, and the ball slowly complies; it begins to levitate above the cold tiles of the floor. I could feel adrenaline surge through my veins and my heart begins to beat faster and harder, so hard that I could feel the vibrations resonate throughout my body. I keep my eyes on the ball, it’s slowly rising still; it’s just reached the height of my waist – and I’m quite tall: five foot and eleven inches, to be exact.
“That’s it Liam,” I could hear my instructors voice behind me. “Stay focused.” His voice was placid, which wasn’t very inciting.
I keep my eyes on the ball and decide to take it up another level. Circle me! The ball didn’t hesitate to do as I told and it began to circle around me at an incredible speed, it was so fast that you couldn’t even see it; it became a blur.
But with it travelling at such a high speed, I couldn’t keep my eyes on it and it suddenly flew out of my control and bounced off the wall, hitting my head on its rebound. I place my hand at the site of impact and began to gently rub it. So that didn’t go quite to plan.
“That’s what you get for being so cocky, Liam.” My instructor lightly reprimanded, his arms folded across his broad and muscular chest. “Seriously, you’re just as bad as the Aquatics when it comes to training; so cheeky and impatient: a virtue that brings upon the downfall of a man in combat.”
“I am not cheeky, nor impatient!” I retort through gritted teeth. As a Telekinetic, I should value patience and selflessness to truly understand my surroundings… but that is something I’m currently having trouble with. Not that I’d admit it, especially to my egotistic instructor.
“Maybe those were a bad choice of words,” He says through a small chuckle. “How about: Pretentious. Yes, that’s exactly what you are.”
“And what does that even mean?”
“It means, you try hard to impress.”
Hearing that was like having venom slowly injected into your veins. It hurts. To know that someone would believe that everything I do is for such a selfish purpose; I don’t try to impress; I try to push myself to my boundaries. I need to know how far I can control my power and if it means to ‘try hard’ then so be it.
I see the yellow ball in my periphery, its idly sitting in the corner of one of the four steeled-walls that makes up the training-room. I look towards my instructor with a flat expression on my face. He’s standing there, smugly; a smirk plastered on his big lips. Let’s wipe that smirk off your petty little face, shall we.
“So,” I started, trying to distract him. Rise! And the ball slowly does. “How can I keep a better control of the object I’m manipulating?” I ask, slightly curious but more for the fact that I know it’ll keep him talking.
He smiles at my question. He enjoys it when he can teach me something: it makes him feel more superior. “Well, you can’t just see the object, you have to try and feel it, too.” He explained, his voice sounded passionate. This was probably why he became an instructor. The theory behind telekinesis really enticed him from a young age. My mum always told me that he would read books on how to strengthen his powers and by the age of twenty, he became one of our leading Telekinetic.
“Feel it, huh?” I ask, cocking my head to one side. I could see the ball reach the height of his head. “Well, try feeling this!” I quickly say and jerk my head forwards, sending the ball flying towards him like lightning.
Its path was leading straight to his forehead. A feeling of achievement erupted inside me, but it soon subsided as I watched the ball stop, dead, just in front of him. Then, with no warning, it shot straight towards me and hit me square on the forehead. It didn’t hurt a lot, but it had enough momentum to send me stumbling backwards. I lean on the wall to support me, its cold surface cooling my hands which grew hot from all the excitement.
“Did YOU feel it?” he says rather smug, the smirk grew even wider.
“You know,” I start, pushing myself off the wall and rubbing my forehead. “You’re a real dick, at times.” I smirk at him and he trails over and gives me a light punch on the arm.
“Don’t use that word in front of your instructor,” he says lightly, but there is a sense of seriousness to it, too. “Idiot.” He adds before turning to one of the walls.
I watch as his brown eyes dilute and his eyebrows press together causing a crease to form in between them. His breathing stills – I watch his chest slowly rise and fall – he raises his hand, pressing the palm of it against the wall. The room tenuously trembles and I watch the wall slowly retreat back down to the ground, then the wall next to it started to fall down, then the next, until the final wall has retreated and we were once again part of the Supernatural Ability Training Hall. (Or SATH as we liked to call it.)
The hall was rather big and was divided into four sections: The section we’re standing in is specifically for those who use the mind to manipulate the environment around us, so the Protectors, Telekinetics and Deceivers trained here. To control our powers, we have to be able to focus, so our instructors would always enclose us in a room, separating us from the other supernatural beings, just like mine did.
The neighbouring section were for the Elementalists: The Aquatics, Pyromaniacs, Subterras and the Aeris. Everyone in this Hall is either sixteen going seventeen or just turned sixteen. Our powers unlock once we turn sixteen. I’ve been sixteen for six months now and I’ve spent the majority of this year confined in that small training room. So we are all basically beginners; initiates, to make it sound less pathetic. And Initiating Elementalists couldn’t conjure their element; they can only manipulate it. Therefore, in their section lies a small pool of their element: The Subterras would have a field of dirt the size of a typical suburban backyard; the aquatics have a small pool filled with water; the pyromaniacs have a force field in the shape of a dome – which elder Protectors placed to prevent any accidental fires occurring – where a pool of lava resides. The Aeris’ don’t need anything because the resource they manipulate surrounds us constantly. I mean, we breathe in air for crying out loud, they don’t need a resource pool.
The next section are for the spiritualists: Shamans and Healers, mainly. Although they have no offensive powers, their skills are integral to the well-being of others. My mum is a healer and she spends a majority of her time in the hospital ward, taking care of those who have hurt themselves, especially at this time of year when the Arena opens.
The arena is a really silly thing, I think. It’s a place where supernatural beings above the age of eighteen go and fight, sometimes to the death. It works like a normal championship: Winner scales the ladder and heads closer to the final. But some of those idiots who apply don’t care about facing death, because the prize victory gives is worth the risk. Which I don’t completely disagree with. You earn a plethora of wealth and a reputation that never ceases to exist. You become the next ‘Supernatural Sweetheart’ and everyone will begin drowning you in adoration and affection.
The final section, however, no one apart from the Dark Magicians dare to tread on. It’s a private sector led by the lead Necromancer: Morgana Coalfey. It’s where all Necromancers train. No one dares associates with them. I once heard that an Aeris tried to speak to a Necromancer and he killed the girl in the blink of an eye and trapped her soul in his staff. Poor girl had no chance. But manipulating life and death can have its consequences; all Necromancers are pale in skin and dark rings circle their eyes, their lips are always bone-dry and cracked, and their robes emanate black smoke. So it wasn’t hard to spot a Necromancer.
Pinpricks of sunlight cascade through the windows of the hallway and fills the room with light. The hallway was modern in its architecture and it was mainly built from steel and glass, so each ray of sun would always be deflected into other parts of the room and would easily light it up.
“What time is it?” I ask, turning around to look at my instructor. He fishes out his phone from his jean pockets and reads the time.
He opens his mouth to inform me but is interrupted by another person. “It’s five to twelve, Liam.” I hear a high pitched, calm yet naturally seductive voice speak.
I turn to see one of my friends, Susan. She’s a Deceiver. They have the ability to read and control minds, and produce hallucinations. She must have read his mind before he could even tell me the time.
“Hey, Susan.” I wave at her and she bows her head at me, then to my instructor.
“You have got to stop doing that Susan.” He shakes his head and releases sighs in exasperation.
“Sorry, Luke.” She quickly apologises, fluttering her eyelids at him. Luke glares at her; he hates it when we call him by his first name. That’s why I always call him ‘Instructor’ or ‘Sir’, otherwise he’ll just make training feel like hell.
“Whatever,” he ignores her attempts of flirting and shakes his head. I try to suppress a laugh when I see Susan slump her shoulders down in annoyance. She really likes him but the funny thing is: Luke’s gay. But only the Telekinetics know that. “Okay, you guys go and have lunch. Eat a lot! Tag battle commences after lunch. Be here in an hour, got it?” He commands solemnly and Susan and I don’t hesitate to nod our heads.
Every day the two sections of the SATH come together to participate in a Tag Battle. The Necromancers don’t take part because they believe training is far more important than putting what we’ve learnt into practice. The spiritualists can’t really help because they have no offensive skills and therefore heal the injured combatants after each fight.
Each day a certain section gets to pick their partner. Yesterday was our turn and I picked my friend, Simon, who’s a pyromaniac, and we ended up beating our opponents, a duo consisting of an Aeris and Aquatic.
So that means today the Elementalists will get to pick their partners; today, Simon will pick me and I’ll take part in another Tag battle.
“So,” Susan sheepishly walks towards me, her head hanging low and innocent. “Where do you want to go?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“We can go get some Chinese. I haven’t had that in a while.”
“Are we going to wait for Joh-“
And at just that moment, John himself appears. “Hey guys!” He chirps, a smile on his face. I knew the reason behind the smile, though: Susan. He’s had a crush on her since training began, but she’s become blinded by her useless pursuit for Luke.
“Have you guys seen Simon, or Lunia?” I ask, surveying the Hall, but the crowd is too big for me to spot them.
“No. Sorry,” Susan shakes her head ruefully and John shoves his hands in his pockets.
“You guys go. I’ll wait for them.” I inform them, beckoning them to go. Susan looked reluctant but John had a smirk on his face; he liked my plan. Of course you’d like to spend some alone time with Susan. A ghost of a smile plays upon my lips.
However, they did and were soon out the doors that would lead them to the Janitor’s closet of the Library where the S.A.T.H was hidden. I walk down the middle of the hallway, heading towards the Pyro-dome. As I walk, I could see a Subterra girl trying to manipulate a mound of earth by her feet. Her hairline was full of sweat and her eyes were strained, her lips were pressed into a flat line and her green eyes twinkles with determination; her hands were creating circle movements but, much to her dismay, nothing was happening.
I remember when I was just like her; when I first came here, I spent hours just staring at the ball, unsuccessful to make it move. I always became frustrated and would scream and yell at my instructor, who would then placate me and tell me to try again… and again… and again. This lasted for a good month. The first time I made the ball rise, I leapt onto Luke and screamed down his ears. He didn’t scold me. In fact, he was very proud of me.
The girl sighs in defeat and she slumps her arms down by her side. I look around to see if an instructor would come to her aid but they were far too busy training other Elementalists. I decide to take it upon myself to help her.
I amble towards the girl and place my hand on her shoulder, which immediately makes her turn and face me. Her eyes were as green as the leaves on a tree and her hair as rich and deep in brown as the soil we tread on. No wonder she’s a Subterra.
“You’re trying too hard,” I lightly tell her. “You have to just let it flow through you and make yourself feel the softness of the earth, before you can command it.”
She takes a deep breath and nods. I place my hands over her eyes and I can feel her shoulders rising and falling with each breath she takes. Then, she raises both her hands, the palms facing the floor, and I watch, completely amazed, as a wall of dirt slowly rises from the mound of soil in front of us. She, then, fluently snaps her wrists and the wall crumbles back down to the ground. A small flutter of achievement courses through me, not for my sake, but for hers.
I release my hands from her eyes and she doesn’t hesitate to turn around and engulf me in a hug. “Thank you!” She squeals into my chest. I laugh and place my hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her away.
“It’s no problem,” I tell her through a chuckle. “So, what’s your name then?”
“Elizabeth,” She smiles, “Elizabeth Wills.”
My mouth drops at the information; so Luke’s little sister has now become an initiate. I scrutinise her physique: she’s not like Luke; she’s slim and fragile-looking, not broad and scary. Her face has a certain sweetness to it, it isn’t intimidating like Luke’s.
“There you are!” A breathless voice speaks from behind me. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
I turn to find Simon, bent over, hands on his knees, and breathing heavily. “I get that the Hall is big, but are you really that out of breath?” I ask, smirking a little.
“Says the guy who stands in the centre of a room for training. I had to sit in the centre of a lava pool and continually repel the incoming ripples of lava that were coming towards me. That tires you out, man!” He defends, crossing his arms across his chest – which was still rising and falling frantically.
“Well, it sucks to be you!” I snort.
“Who’s the girl, huh?” he questions, suspiciously, his eyebrows were raised.
That’s Simon for you: An annoying little twat. He always suspects that I’m chasing a girl. I mean, I use to when I first came here, but that was ages ago. Now, I don’t really find any of the girls here delectable.
He, on the other hand, was a favourite contender for the girls. I suppose it’s his silky smooth blonde hair that sweeps over his left eye which causes the girls to swoon and scream; or, perhaps it’s his piercing blue eyes that can captivate any soul that stares into it. I don’t know. I’ve never really spent my time admiring guys. I’m not gay… at least I don’t think so. Apart from that one time Luke kissed me during training – but we keep that a secret. It was an accident, anyways. (Or so he says.)
“Elizabeth, this is Simon.” I extend my arms towards Simon who nods his head towards her.
“Hey there, sweetheart.” He greets her, winking his eyes, slyly.
To my disbelief, I hear Elizabeth lightly chuckle and hang her head low. “Well, hey there, Simon. It’s my pleasure to meet you.” She extends her hand and Simon shakes it, longer than usual. As she retreats her hand, I see a small blush creep its way on her cheeks.
Girls… I roll my eyes and leave the two swallows to chirp away. As I exit the Subterra training area, I could hear the voices of two males speaking to one another. I’m not one to eavesdrop but something was inciting me to listen. So I did.
“So, we’re gonna play a trick on that stupid cleaner tonight, yeah?” he says, his voice was derisive and malicious.
“Yeah, the kid has no magic, anyways. I wonder why he’s still allowed to come here.” The other guy speaks. His voice was less harsh than the other kid but the same tone of ridicule was present.
“It’s his family’s punishment. Apart from losing their magic, they must look after this building.”
“Do you know what his family did to lose their magic?”
“No. But it must be something bad.”
“Yeah. Well, how about if the pool accidentally ‘swallows’ him up… we don’t drown him of course, but, come on, it’ll be funny.”
I clench my jaw; nothing irks me more than gratuitous cruelty. I turn around to see who the boys were and find that they were a pair of Aquatics. They both had dishevelled, sandy brown hair and their body looked like twigs. I planned on going over to them and tell them to not even think about doing such a thing. That is, until an idea popped inside my head.
If you guys want a prank, you can have one. I smirk and walk away. I briskly walk towards Lunia: she will have a better knowledge of this ‘cleaner’ because she spends most her time after training helping out in the cleaning process.
I find her at her normal spot: enclosed inside a chalk-drawn circle, sitting cross-legged in the centre. Her arms were extended out, resting on her thighs, and her hands were open flat; she was meditating – an integral activity in the upbringing of a healer.
I don’t intend on interrupting her state of serenity and, therefore, sit cross-legged just on the edge of the circle and wait for her to acknowledge my presence. I watch intently as her chest rises and falls steadily, almost like a rhythm. Her hair was a dark red that flows down up to her chest. She was slim but being a Healer meant that you had to be physically fit and so I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few muscles that protrude out her stomach.
I sit for a couple more minutes until I watch a ghost of a smile hover on her lips and she opens one of her eyes, revealing her purple iris. She was beautifully different than the other girls. I smile back at her and wave.
“Hi, Liam.” She greets in a whisper, closing her eyes again, but now she was visibly smiling.
“Hi,” I respond, “I was just wondering if you know who the cleaner is.”
“You mean Zack?”
“Is he the cleaner?”
“Then yes, I mean Zack.” I smirk. Zack. Cool name.
“What about him?”
“Nothing.” I quickly lie. I don’t want to worry her with what I heard the Aquatics were going to do.
“Okay then.” She doesn’t press further and shuts herself down, refusing to let anyone to interrupt her meditation.
I sigh and leave her to it, knowing I’m not going to get anything else from her. But I do know one thing: tonight’s going to be a big surprise for the Aquatics. I chuckle lightly and head towards the exit – not before getting a few death glares from the Necromancers I pass by.
I press my fingerprint on a small indention on the wall by the door and it quickly opens. I walk through and stumble over a few cleaning supplies stashed inside the Janitors closet. See, the S.A.T.H is hidden under the Library, inside a Janitor’s closet found in the basement. It’s the perfect spot to train because with all the technology we have these days, people rarely visit the Library.
I run up the stairs that leads me into the Foyer of the Library. Walking through it, I quickly glance around and hear the familiar silence that occupies the Library. Yep, empty like always. I think as I push through the Library doors and greet the cold, chilly London air.
The Library was located in an isolated part of Western London, so there were barely any people roaming the streets to begin with. Outside the Library was a small café in which my friends and I would always have lunch in, but as Susan proposed we go for Chinese today, I know they won’t be in there and the café itself is isolated, apart from the same guy that mans the cashier every day.
The sun is shining bright and I could hear a flock of birds fly above. The rays of the sun causes the frost, that’s blanketed the London streets, to glisten beautifully. Mists past my lips with every breath I take and I supress a shiver that climbs my spine. I rub my hands together before pulling my phone out my jean pockets. I check and find a message waiting for me:
Go down the street and you’ll find a little restaurant called ‘The Empire’ and you’ll find John and me in there.
Hurry up, John’s talking about not having a girlfriend and I’m getting slightly creeped out.
I chuckle at the last part of her text because I know that’s John’s not-so-subtle way of hinting to Susan that he likes her. But from what I can tell, she’s still oblivious to the lucid fact.
I pull the sleeves of my plain white tee-shirt up and check the time on my golden watch: 12:32pm. I have a good thirty-minutes before tag battle starts. Better not waste any more time.
And with that, I rush down the street, incessantly rubbing my arms to keep them awake and warm.