Chapter: 5: The Hooded Shadow

I dreamed about the dancing flames from the mansion throughout the entire night.

I dreamed about how they would exist in one moment and disappear in the next, about the heat on my face and the colors before my eyes, and about the man who wielded them.

He’d made it look so easy when he’d made the fire surrender to his command.

Then there were his eyes. The icy fire burning cold and blue like the glaciers forging the frozen landscape of the Arctic Region, penetrating my soul and turning my blood solid.

I sat up with a start, gasping for a breath of air to cool my burning lungs.

For a single second, I thought I was back at the mansion in that dark hallway. It was only when the grainy layers of my ragged blanket scratched my skin that I realized I was still in my room.

Tristan was still sound asleep in his bed by the window, unbothered by my nightmare.

Years ago, when I had nightmares as simple as these, I would often wake up to a room that had been turned upside down.

Tristan would be hiding under his bed to avoid the flying objects being tossed around by my undisciplined powers.

I used to lie awake, sleepless for days after that had happened. Not anymore. Not since I’d found a way to wake myself up before my emotions took over.

My eyes narrowed as the sun peeked through the blinds.

It was almost time for me to get up anyway, so I quietly got dressed and snuck through the room without waking Tristan up.

Mom and Dad were already dressed and ready for another day at work. Dad was bustling around the entrance, probably looking for his jacket that currently hung across one of the kitchen chairs.

The floor creaked under my feet, and Dad turned his head to see me standing by the door frame to the living room.

“Dressed already?” he asked, lifting another pillow that he threw back again with a frustrated grunt.

I chuckled. “I couldn’t sleep,” I said, crossing my arms. “Your jacket is in the kitchen if that’s what you’re searching for.”

“Ah, thank you, honey,” he said, walking past me but not without giving me a quick kiss of gratitude on my cheek.

“So you couldn’t sleep?” Dad asked. “Too excited for a new day at work? To see that Milo boy, maybe?”

I stuck my tongue out at him when he waggled his eyebrows.

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up yet, Dad,” I said, ignoring the rising chill from the thought of the Deveroux son.

“A father is allowed to dream when his daughter won’t do it for herself,” he said, ruffling my hair as he passed me again to head for the door.

“I’m off to work. Have a good day, girls, and remember to take care of each other,” he said, kissing my mom goodbye before he walked out.

I hated seeing him leave.

Dad was a teacher in a school for the elite located around the periphery of the Golden Region.

It was one of the smaller academies for the Iridis and talented First-bloods but not one of those eligible to have a representative at the Crown Trials.

Secretly, I enjoyed calling it the Academy for the Uptight Asshats—an accurate description of those pretentious people attending that place.

In reality, I knew Dad had been fortunate with his job. It ensured we could live at least a little decently.

Dad was the smartest person I knew. He could fix anything faster than many of Heliac’s greatest engineers. He would probably have been one of them if we’d had the money to give him a proper education.

For now, he had to teach the elite brats who didn’t have the faintest trace of humility for the person shaping their future.

They apparently thought they were so privileged that they could only know better than some insignificant, poor teacher.

Although, Dad was probably smarter than all the teachers in that school combined.

What I hated even more than seeing him leave was coming home again.

The exhausted look on his face when he entered the house and the many bruises he tried to hide with his coat… It hurt.

Sometimes, it would be minor injuries like a recent bruising from a small stone or burns from a cruel Fire Iridis shooting sparks after him to watch him dance.

Other times, it was worse.

I’d once seen Mom wrap his entire arm in bandages to protect it from the massive burn mark stretching from his elbow to his shoulder.

He still carried the scars to prove it, and I’d never seen him wear a T-shirt since—not even during the hottest days of summer.

The elite First-bloods weren’t any better, and the leaders did nothing.

Dad wasn’t even paid a quarter of what the other teachers were earning, but jobs like his were hard to come by in this region.

That’s why I wanted to work hard at the mansion. I wanted to earn enough money so he could get a new job somewhere else—somewhere better.

“Eat, Willow,” Mom said, awakening me from my daydream. “You’ll need it.”

The muscles in my face twitched instinctively when I saw the faded porridge from last night standing on the table. I’d barely been able to force it down yesterday.

“Leave enough for Tristan,” Mom said from the living room. “I’ll wake him up in ten minutes, and then we’ll leave soon after.”

~That won’t be a problem.~

Tristan wasn’t old enough to be left alone at home yet, and we couldn’t afford to send him to school.

So, we dropped him off at Ania’s place for Koa’s sisters to watch him while we worked.

The walk felt a lot shorter than yesterday. I’d barely noticed that an entire hour had passed before we arrived.

Mom immediately headed for the breakroom to retrieve her note. I had to spend a few minutes looking for mine.

It was green, implying that my chores would be some of the easier ones.

I started reading: clean four of the bedrooms and polish the windows in the main halls.

It sounded simple enough.

Mom’s note was purple, which, judging from her expression, was a less fortunate fate.

Then I remembered that she’d threatened me with one of those yesterday. So maybe it was karma taking its course.

“Margaret!” Mom shouted, fury creasing her aging face.

Mom stormed out of the breakroom with the note in her hand, raising it above her head. She didn’t stop until she stood before a woman around her own age, her gray hair tied into a rigid bun.

I didn’t dare listen to their conversation and patiently waited in the breakroom until she came back for me.

“Let’s go, Willow,” she said. If she’d been a Water Iridis, vapor would’ve steamed from her ears.

“Do we have the same chores?” I asked, feeling myself becoming confused about the rules of this place.

“For now,” she said. “I have a few ~additional~ chores as well.”

It only made me want to know more about what the purple note meant for her, but I didn’t dare ask. Not while she was in that mood.

Mom took me to the first guest room, where she showed me her routine. She also made me aware that we had to be extra thorough since the Deverouxs were hosting a party through the night.

Cleaning was fun at first, but it quickly became mindless repetition, and the joy of it faded.

I had drastically underestimated how long it would take me to complete my chores. The sun had already started setting outside the enormous windows when I dipped the cloth for the last time.

“I’m done now, Mom,” I said when I caught her in the hallway.

She sighed. “That’s good, darling. I have a few more hours left before I can leave, but you go. Dad is probably already home.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

She nodded, placing her broom on the trolley. “You have a deal with Koa to meet at the river, right?”

I couldn’t suppress the smile.

I hadn’t told Mom about my meeting with Koa, but it was something we always did when he came home. She would’ve known anyway.

“Good,” she said. “The sun will be watching over you until you get home. Take the direct route. No detours.”

“I promise,” I said, kissing her on the cheek before I headed to the kitchen.

“See you tomorrow!” I shouted to the kitchen staff and grabbed my jacket.

The evening air felt nice against my pruned hands.

Fall would be upon us in a few days, but it wasn’t yet cold enough for us to wear our winter jackets.

It was difficult to keep myself from running. I wanted to hurry home, but it would make too much noise.

The sun might be protecting me for now, but it never hurt anyone to be careful.

Old, familiar pine trees painted the road green in front of me. I would be home soon.

Then a shadow blocked the path ahead.

I slowed down.

It was a man dressed in a leather jacket and a pair of dark cargo pants. He had a hood pulled over his head and was standing with his back toward me.

He seemed frustrated as he leaned over his two-wheeled vehicle.

I didn’t know him. It wasn’t safe to stop, so I decided to pass him and act as if he wasn’t there.

The noise of an engine dying sounded behind me, causing me to stop in my tracks.

A painful knot settled in my stomach.

My damned conscience was urging me to help the stranger, reminding me how rude it would be to ignore someone when I knew I could possibly fix his problem.

I’d gone to our local school when I was younger until it became too expensive. Since then, my parents had been my teachers, and Dad had taught me most of what he knew.

He’d often brought home stuff from the junkyard, and we would find a way to cobble it all together to create something new. I knew mechanics like the back of my hand.

I considered the thought again.

The stranger was traveling by bike. He couldn’t easily abduct me like that, and he didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons.

Besides, if I turned out to be wrong, I could always count on the winds to keep me safe. He didn’t know who I was.

I sighed and turned around to approach the helpless man. “Do you need any help?” I asked before stepping closer.

He reacted to my inquiry but never turned his head to let me see his face.

“No, thank you,” he mumbled politely. “I have it under control.”

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling wryly and furrowing my eyebrows. “I’m sorry to break it to you, but it really doesn’t look like it.” I chuckled. “Have you ever fixed a bike before?”

I drew in a sharp breath to take my words back.

I didn’t know this man, and I was making fun of him.

Then he started chuckling.

“I’m afraid you might be right,” he said and stood up. “I have no idea why this thing won’t start, and I am running kind of late.”

The sun was hanging low in the sky behind him, and the trees cast long shadows upon us, making it hard for me to identify any features of his dark face.

“May I have a look?” I asked.

He nodded and stepped back to give me space. I rolled up my sleeves and squatted beside the large machine.

All it took was a glance for me to recognize that this wasn’t just any old motorcycle. It was fueled by water—actual water. This was made using the new H2O technology.

“Where did you get this?” I asked, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.

“These hit the market last week. I wasn’t expecting to see one here until sometime next year! I didn’t even know that a First-blood could ride these without—”

I shut up, realizing that I’d just answered my own question.

He was an Iridis. He probably belonged to the elite as well since he could get his hands on this engineering wonder so soon.

What was he doing in a place like this?

My head was buzzing with questions, but I knew better than to challenge an Iridis.

The last time I’d dared to speak to an Iridis like a regular person hadn’t turned out so well. Koa had been hurt trying to protect me.

Instead, I turned my head back to the systems and looked for the cause of his troubles.

“What kind of water did you use?” I asked quietly without looking at him.

“Is that relevant?” he said, confused.

“Did you use purified water or just water from the river?” I said again, spelling out the question without appearing rude.

“The river,” he said. “I was in a hurry, so—”

“Then you have the answer to your problem.”

I dusted off my palms and got up, still avoiding his hidden gaze.

“The water you used probably contained sand or stones, and it has clogged the system. So I suggest you remove the float bowl drain screws and create pressure to flush out whatever is stuck.

“The screws I’m talking about are these two, right here,” I said and pointed to the two brass-colored flathead screws between the motor and the airbox.

“I can only recommend going to a licensed mechanic to solve your problem. I have no tools with me, and there’s no way of creating pressure enough to—”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence before he raised his hand above his head and placed the other right in front of him.

I heard the screws being loosened and dropping to the ground. Then he changed position. His raised hand rushed toward the ground while the other rotated toward his torso.

The next moment, water started pouring out at an abnormal speed.

I fell to the ground, frantically crawling back.

He ~was~ a Water Iridis.

My body wouldn’t move, but I’d been right about the clogging.

Several small stones floated visibly in the hovering sphere of the water from the motor. He purified it without breaking a sweat and reinserted it.

The screws were back in place within seconds, and all I could do was watch as the powerful Iridis practiced his powers in a way I would never be able to.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said, offering me his hand to help me up, but my rigid body wouldn’t allow me to accept.

Instead, he grabbed my arm to help me to my feet as if it wasn’t his first time dealing with a reaction like mine.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to contact a mechanic, but I want to thank you. I owe you a lot,” he said and squeezed my arm.

I looked up in reaction to his genuine gratitude and glimpsed a pair of dark eyes hidden beneath the hoodie.

Then he started the bike and rode off, leaving me in the middle of the road as if he’d never been here in the first place.

What a strange man.

I turned my head, raising it to face the red-pink sky, and felt the comfort of the wind.

My eyes widened.

~Cursed blood.~

I was so late.