The Imperial Warrior

Chapter 15- Fire on Fire

Kyle lifted the weights in a mechanical fashion. He knew he was too drowsy to do the third set but he told himself that he at least had to make it through the second one before making a coffee run. Standing under a canopy of trees in the arena, he closed his eyes and focused. He had been trying to use his abilities while lifting those damned weights but it was too much. He opened his eyes to see a bulging black vein on his arm.

"Seven texts, two am..." He went on over and over again until the vein melted to the grey of his eyes. Surprisingly, Drake's trigger phrase had stuck. Unsurprisingly, they were the wrong song lyrics.

He had made enough progress in the last three months to be elevated to a level 4. He knew that if he kept at it, he would reach 5 in a week. Alan had his own testing methods to assess the level each of his students was at; which Kyle greatly admired. The most difficult was the graduation from 1 to 2. Once, he reached 2, there was little anybody could do to stop him. Even Derek was proud of him. Yet, he wasn't satisfied.

He made himself get up at four in the morning every day and train alone, come rain come sunshine. After running around barefoot for an hour, he went for the weights. In the beginning, it was all so foreign to him that he had to beg Derek and Drake to show him the ropes. Then, he decided to take Anya's path and researched the hell out of everything, formed his own schedule on top of Alan's, and set his mind to the task.

He could feel his strength increasing and his muscles building up slowly. It wasn't enough though, none of it was. He always carried a needle in his pocket in case he couldn't calm himself down with the trigger phrase. His pen wound had just about healed so he wasn't looking forwards to using it anytime soon. It was better to be safe than sorry, he told himself every morning before putting it in his pocket.

Running and weights were the easy part of his day, the physical exercises he could manage by now, losing himself in the process. The hard part was sitting still and trying to gain the powers that lay beneath his exterior.

He put down the weight and looked for his bottle. He was too sleepy to be of any good to himself. He needed his caffeine fix for the day, especially knowing that it was Khia's turn to train him in combat today. He had been training with Derek overtime for this match.

He laughed at himself then. He would have been horrified to see himself do all these things a few months ago. And now here he was, on four hours of sleep, excited for a match he knew he was going to lose in.

He didn't understand how but Khia was good at practically everything. He hadn't seen her lose control even remotely during his entire time at the compound. He hadn't seen the others lose it often either but at least he saw them train hard for it. Khia was apparently above training, her being on the highest level already.

He had been trying a few things that didn't fit in his training too. One of them being stealth. He tried to keep his footing as light as he could as he made his way to her cafeteria. He knew he had to stop sneaking in and eventually tell her that he was the milk thief but that was a task for another day. And really, Khia brought it upon herself by making such a tempting coffee corner in her cafeteria.

The tile of the compound was cool to his feet. He had forsaken shoes completely in his time here and now went everywhere barefoot. His soles had permanent blisters but he didn't really mind them. He liked the scars his injuries left. He liked knowing that he was doing something in his life that made it worth having scars. They were his personal rewards for a life well fought for.

Even at night or early mornings, in this case, the lights of the compound were left on. He waited until his eyes adjusted to them and made his way up. In the beginning, the emptiness of the compound building felt very strange. But now it gave him comfort. There was a certain control in knowing that he was the only one roaming around the halls. There was control in his surroundings where his life had none. It was the only time during the day he let his thoughts stray.

Today, they kept going back to his first day at the compound. Or more importantly, his first kiss at the compound, or well, ever. There were so many times after that, he waited for Khia to acknowledge that moment but she never brought it up. Sometimes, Kyle wondered if it was just a figment of his imagination. But the taste of her noodles was still in his mouth, telling him that it wasn't just a dream. He was real, and so was she.

He had formed an odd affiliation with her since then. Almost every night Khia was at the compound, he went to her cafeteria to sit on that same spot with her. She hummed while he cooked and Kyle always tried to figure what song it was. There was something haunting in their melodies. He even tried to cook with her a couple of times but she shooed him away. Cooking was hers, she told him ardently. It was the one thing that let her have some peace in their damned world.

He wanted to know why her world was damned. She had control, she had everything he aspired for. She didn't even live in the compound. She had a room for emergencies but he knew her home was at the diner. The one with neon signs and second-hand sofas. He didn't want to admit it, but she was becoming his inspiration. Every time he felt like quitting, he would imagine her with a disappointed expression on her face and start over again with a renewed vigor.

But whatever it was, Khia had something haunting her too. He knew it from the day he had met her. They both were lost, he supposed, finding solace under a blanket of stars. He smiled when he realized that he wasn't alone anymore. Looking up at the stars was something he did since the day his mother had died, they offered him some comfort, sure. But they also made him feel lonelier than ever. Having Khia beside him, the sky wasn't so daunting anymore.

He knew it was a losing game he was addicted to. Conversing with the universe, pretending that it really heard him. He had reached the door then.

He opened it just enough for him to shimmy inside. He switched on the lights and yelped.

"Khia! What are you doing here?" She gave him an incredulous expression.

"Hello, coffee thief." She said coolly. He raised both his hands in surrender and then went to get a mug from the cabinet. Once he was satisfied with its temperature, he sat on the counter top beside her.

"Don't you drive to your diner every night?" He asked her.

"I was too tired to drive last night." She said in explanation.

She took his coffee mug and gulped down a mouthful. "Gha! Kyle! Gha!" Kyle snickered at her frantic movements.

"Do you like burning your tongue?"

"I like my coffee boiling hot." He shrugged.

She slid his cup back and shook her head in disapproval. Kyle never felt the need to fill the silence around her so he didn't say anything. Even during most of their dinners, they sat beside each other but never said much. It seemed that they both had demons they were dealing with.

"Anyway, what are you doing up at," She looked around for her phone and brought it in front of his face, "6 am."

His eyes didn't go to the clock but on the date at the corner top of the screen. It was the three-month anniversary of Anya's parents' deaths. He started trembling. Other than the message he had left for his father, he hadn't talked to anyone from the outside world since he had come here. He was so ashamed of himself. He had no idea how his best friend was dealing with everything on her own. He was even more guilty because it was so easy to ignore thinking about them. The pang in his stomach widened even more and he knew it was too late.

He removed the needle and with shaking hands made a small bruise on his left thumb. Khia's eyes widened and she immediately threw the needle away from him.

"Kyle! Kyle, look at me." Her voice was a command. He didn't know how but it immediately stopped his trembling. He felt the power, he felt the need to chase that high but he felt the desire for her even more.

There was black kohl around her eyes which cast dark shadows across her cheekbones. He took an involuntary step towards her. She registered the pain across his face and made no move to stop him. He took another step and said, "Make me forget, Khia." Her name was a plea on his lips.

She understood what he was asking of her. She nodded, less for him and more for herself. She had been wanting this just as much as him.

Their lips crashed at the same time and Kyle couldn't control himself. He knew kissing her while he was just on the edge of his succumbing to an urge was dangerous but he couldn't stop. He pushed her against the nearest wall, pinning her against his body. She was just an inch shorter than him and all he had to do was tilt towards her face.

He knew he wasn't being gentle but Khia wasn't the one for gentleness. She was a force all on her own. She bit his bottom lip and a very raw moan left his lips. They were crushing each other and Kyle knew that each kiss, every moment of his hands on her body was a prayer, a confession, a decree.

"I'm drowning and you save me."

He felt the ringing of a thousand hurricanes in his ears and knew that he was in the eye of the storm. That there was a tsunami waiting for him and he would gladly be ruined for just one touch from her.

***

"I'm fine." Anya told Alex. She knew he was being extra careful around her today, looking at the date looming in front of them. He was insisting on driving her to the cemetery and she didn't know how to tell him that she wasn't going.

"Well, you haven't applied for your license, Anya. Are you going to walk all the way there?" There was a time when she was counting down the days to her birthday to apply for her driver's license but when it had come, it didn't matter to her. That day passed by just like any other day.

"I'm not going." She told him.

"What do you mean you are not going?" Alex's voice told her that he was trying his best to keep his temper under a leash so she said, "It's pointless," When he didn't say anything for a long time, she hoped that was the end of that topic.

"It's not pointless, Anya. You need to grieve them properly. It's been three months and you haven't even—" He stopped that sentence and just said instead, "They deserve to be grieved."

Anya couldn't believe that she was getting a lecture about this.

"They deserved to live too, didn't get that either now, did they?" She scoffed bitterly.

She was staring numbly at the TV when Alex took the remote and flicked it off.

"Hey! I was watching that." She told him.

"No, I don't care. You are coming with me." She lost it then. Alex was acting like he was the one who was orphaned. She was so mad at him for trying to dictate the way she mourned her parents. She blinked away the hot tears ready to fall any minute and stood up, facing him.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop swallowing your feelings, Anya. It's been three months and you haven't even cried for them. Do you even miss them?" Alex knew he shouldn't have said that.

"I'm sorry—" He tried apologizing but stopped upon seeing the fury on Anya's face. This was bad. This was so bad.

"I'm not your damsel in distress, Alex Mathews. You are not my knight and this isn't a damn fairytale." She didn't stop her tears this time. When Alex took a step closer to her, she flinched and put a hand forward to stop him. She didn't want to be anywhere near him.

"I cry myself to sleep every night, Alex. I'm terrified to even step a foot inside my own house in fear that I won't ever get up once I fall. So, don't tell me I'm not grieving." She was furious and every word was like a slap across his face. She knew he only meant it with the best intentions but he had no idea what it felt like to lose a parent. Only one person could understand her and he wasn't there.

"Don't tell me anything." She wasn't yelling at him anymore. She got up and walked away before she could do any more damage. She was still boiling from anger when she stormed into Ryan's study.

"Where is he? And don't tell me you don't know because you are his father. You wouldn't let your son disappear on you for three months." Ryan looked up in surprise. He clearly didn't expect her to come marching in with such rage.

"He is safe, Anya." He said in a tone one would use to calm down a wailing child. It infuriated her even further. She was done being a child the day both her parents were killed. She didn't get the luxury of being coddled anymore.

"I got a message from him some time ago." He told her.

She figured that had been the case a while back when Ryan refused to put up missing posters or even file a complaint with the Sheriff, but it hurt that he hadn't bothered to tell her.

"I don't care. Where is he?" She had never spoken so rudely to anybody before but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"It's complicated, Anya. He is getting the help he needs."

"What about me?" The anger had left her body the same way it had fueled her a minute ago. In a swift motion, overwhelming everything else. Now, she sounded broken. She knew she was.

"What about the help I need? He is my best friend. He can't just leave me." Tears ran down her face and she sat on the stool in front of her. She looked around for a glass and poured herself some water. That was her go-to solution for everything. It was something her mother had taught her. A glass of water can cure almost all your sorrows, she used to tell Anya.

Ryan waited for her to finish and then said, "I'm sorry, Anya. I know it isn't enough. I know how soul-crushing every day is without the people who love you the most." She looked at his face and saw that he was saying the truth. His truth.

"I just need to talk to him. Just for a minute." She put all her desperation in those words hoping he would be convinced.

Ryan looked like he wanted to help too. He fiddled around his drawer for a minute and removed his phone, "I received the message from this number." He handed her the phone. She forwarded the number to hers and got up.

She saw the look Ryan gave him, plainly telling her not to keep her hopes up.

She didn't accept that. Hope was all she had left.

She came out of the study to see that Alex had left the house. She didn't want to confess it even to herself but she was glad for it. She was done with his pity.

She went to the window which looked out to her house and dialed the number. As she heard it ring, panic started to seize her. She had no idea what she was going to tell him. He had made it pretty clear the last time that he had no interest in talking to her. But that couldn't be true, she consoled herself. It must have been just to keep her away from him. She could almost hear Alex snide beside her and say, "Whatever lets you sleep at night."

Turns out, it didn't matter. He didn't pick up the phone.

She tried not to feel too bad about herself and decided to make something to eat. Hopefully, Ryan would take it as I-am-sorry-I-was-so-rude-here-is-some-cake-to-make-it-better. She was almost finished making the batter when her phone rang. She let it ring at least once before she picked it up; lest her desperation be seen all too evidently.

"Don't tell me forgot your phone at the compound again, Khia." The voice definitely didn't belong to Kyle. She looked at the number and thought she had probably dialed the wrong number but she had heard the voice before.

Frowning she remarked, "Derek."

The boy's voice was sleepy before but now it came back sharper, "You are not Khia."

"And you are not Kyle."

Derek took her voice in and said, "Anya." He sounded different, like he didn't know what to do with her calling.

"Where is Kyle?" She put as much venom in her tone as she could. If he didn't know that she hated him already, he would now. It didn't seem to affect him much, though. If anything, his voice became mocking, "Somewhere he belongs."

She scoffed into the phone, "As if. Tell me where he is."

"Now aren't you a huffy little thing. Usually, girls ask me where I am." She didn't have time for this nonsense but from his reaction, he knew where Kyle was, so she played along.

"Derek, I swear to god, if you have hurt him in any way—"

"Oh, I don't need to hurt him. He does plenty of damage on his own." Anya was sure she was imagining it but it almost sounded like he was mad at Kyle for the things he had said to Anya that day at school. She knew that was probably another one of his tricks, manipulate two friends and then come in as the savior. She wasn't falling for it.

"Just give him the phone." She said in an annoyed tenor.

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"You need me to write it down for you, writer girl?" She had to play this carefully, getting frustrated just made Derek even more exasperating so she said,

"I need him, Derek."

He didn't say anything and Anya thought he had disconnected the call but she turned on the screen to see that it was still on.

Derek's voice was forlorn when he said, "You don't need anybody, Anya Jacob. You are an arsenal all by yourself."

With that, he cut the call.

Anya knew calling back would have been futile so left her phone and set out to find Alex. She needed that ride to the cemetery after all.