Chapter 6 – Blood and Fire
995 Words
POV: Rory Hale
The first thing I noticed was the smellsmoke.
It clung to the gym walls before anything had even started, faint but acute, like the air was warning me. I swallowed hard, standing at the outside of the circle as students filled the room. Their eyes sparkled too brightly, their smirks too keen, their gestures too inhuman.
“First combat training,” Maya muttered near me. “Don’t faint. They’ll eat you alive.”
I attempted to laugh, but it came out cracked. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
Her grin was evil. “You’ll thank me later. Or not.”
The Headmistress entered long black robes, eyes like shards of obsidian. Every voice is quiet.
“Today,” she stated, “you will test your strength. Power is the only language Obsidian Academy understands. If you cannot speak it…” She let the silence extend, her lips curling. “You do not belong here.”
My throat clenched. The words weren’t for everyone. They were for me.
The bouts began. Students clashed with flashes of magic and strengthsparks, claws, shadows streaming across the gym floor. I could barely breathe watching it.
Then his name was called.
“Darius Draven.”
He stepped forward, towering and golden-skinned, muscles coiled with lethal ease. His eyes burnt molten amber. The voices around me were electric.
“Dragon-born,” Maya said, almost reverent. “Better pray he’s not paired with you.”
“Rory Hale.”
The sound of my name shattered like thunder.
Every head turned.
Blood drained from my face.
“No,” I muttered. “No, that’s not fair”
“It’s perfect,” the Headmistress stated coldly. “Let us see what the Marked One is worth.”
The mob parted, propelling me forward into the circle. Darius’s smile was slow, predatory.
“Lucky me,” he drawled. “Fresh blood.”
I forced myself to face his eyes. “I don’t want to fight you.”
“Then you’ll lose quickly,” he remarked, his voice silky but vicious. “And losing here means bleeding.”
The room vibrated with tension as he circled me, his eyes burning brighter.
“Defend yourself,” he hissed.
“I can’t,” I muttered.
“Then burn.”
The shift raced through him in a swirl of heat and light. Scales shimmered down his arms, his teeth lengthened, and fire licked between his lips.
Someone yelled. Someone else cheered.
And then the globe burst in flames.
The fire roared toward me like a live thing, gold and scarlet, filling my eyes. Heat surged into me with furious forceI threw my arms up, braced for anguish, for my flesh to blister and burn.
But the ache never arrived.
I opened my eyes.
The flames curled about me, dancing down my arms, my hair, my body… yet not scorching. Not even aching. It seemed like the flames knew me, sliding over my skin like liquid light, warm but secure.
Gasps filled the room.
“What the hell” Maya’s voice pierced through the silence.
Darius lurched back, his eyes wide, his flames choking into smoke. “No. That’s… that’s impossible.”
I dropped my arms carefully, marvelling at the faint golden glow lingering on my skin. My voice trembled. “Why didn’t it hurt me?”
Darius’s countenance twisted fear, bewilderment, wrath all entwined in his fiery eyes.
“You should be ashes,” he snarled. “No one survives dragon fire. No one.”
“I’m standing right here,” I muttered.
“Exactly,” he yelled, his voice harsh with panic. “And that means you’re not what you think you are.”
The crowd erupted in murmuring. Some glanced at me with wonder, others with hunger, but all of them with something keen in their gazes.
The Headmistress’s lips twisted into the slightest, most menacing smile.
“Interesting,” she mumbled. “Very interesting.”
Darius came closer, chest heaving, his voice lowering low so only I could hear.
“What are you, Rory Hale?”
I shook my head, voice breaking. “I don’t know.”
But the truth is buried firmly in my chest.
Maybe I wasn’t just prey. Maybe I was something worse.
I should have been dead. Instead, the dragon fire had clung to me like it belonged.
Why didn’t the flames burn me?
The gym lights flickered, shadows flashing over the walls. My army cursed arm began to glow softly again, threads of gold under my skin.
Gasps swept through the crowd.
“She’s the Marked One,” someone muttered.
Darius froze, staring at the radiance like it was the end of the world.
“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “Not Marked. Something worse. Something… older.”
The term older blasted at me like ice.
Before I could ask, the Headmistress clapped her hands once. The sound was harsh as steel.
“Enough,” she commanded. “Class dismissed. Except…” Her stare fastened on me, cold and thrilled. “Rory Hale stays.”
The other kids faded out, their whispers like daggers against my skin. Darius didn’t move. He just kept staring at me, his mouth clinched so firmly I felt his teeth may snap.
Finally, he continued, “If you survive here, Hale… it won’t be because you’re lucky. It’ll be because the rest of us are too terrified to touch you.”
His comments remained like smoke as he turned and stormed out.
The Headmistress’s voice drifted into the silence. “You should be dead. Yet here you stand. Tell me, Rory, how does it feel to go through fire?”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
Her smile sharpened. “Oh, but I do. And very soon… so will you.”
The Headmistress moved closer, her whisper curling like smoke against my ear.
“Tell me, child… why didn’t the flames burn you?”
- Writer
