Ethan stood outside the barracks under the gray afternoon sky. The mages had ordered him there. No choice in it. Chief Barry’s orders still held some weight, but these three operated on their own terms most days.
The attack mage lay on the ground near the low wall. He had forgotten about her; Karisa had knocked her down cold for the mission.
He still remembered it. A clean hit to the side of the head and she twitched once, then went still.
Her eyes found him. Blank at first. Then something shifted behind them. Questions, maybe, he didn’t know. But she just watched, from the sidelines.
I hope she doesn’t remember any of it.
Karisa had wanted her dead. Simple and clean, but Chief Barry shut that down. More paperwork, he’d said. More forms. More questions from higher up, he wasn’t dealing with any of it.
Ethan had heard the exchange through the wall. The chief’s voice was as strict as it could be. So Karisa had absolutely no room for argument.
The defense mage curled a finger at him. Was it a gesture? Was he trying to say "come here"? He didn’t know. The man was with the healer a few steps back.
"Come here, you brain of bread."
Huh, oh, he’s telling me to come, shitty cunt, too lazy to even speak. Haaa... Hound wannabes.
He walked forward anyway. Boots on packed dirt. Before he closed the last two meters, the defense mage stepped in with speed and drove a fist into his chest.
Ethan saw it coming, but he let it hit, and the blow sent him flying. He hit the ground hard, rolled once, and stopped on his back.
"What the hell..." Ethan muttered as dust rose around him. Ethan felt the impact. It totally registered. He thought his jaw was gone, but it did not hurt the way it should have. He could move it; there was just some blood.
The new strength sat under his skin like a second set of muscles that did not belong to a simple cadet.
What should I do here... he thought.
He stayed down a second longer than needed. Played the part. A simple soldier. Nothing more, nothing less.
He pushed up on one elbow. "Why? You guys know what will happen if I file a compl—"
The healer mage moved in. Green light washed over Ethan’s chest. Bruises faded instantly. The defense mage waited until the light cut off, then punched him again.
Same spot, with the same amount of force. Ethan flew back a second time. He landed, spat dirt, and got to his feet much more slowly this time.
Ohhh, I understand now. The chief had kept these mages on a short leash for the entire month. No free rein like before. No easy targets.
The word had spread that Ethan and Marcus sat high on the chief’s list. Favorites, even.
Obviously, their claim that they wanted to test him because of his Ember was utter bullshit.
The defense mage and the healer had stored up that resentment. Now they had an opening, and they were using it fully.
Ethan stood. He kept his shoulders rounded. Kept his breathing uneven. The healer stepped closer. "You do not need to take more of this, you know. We hear you’re close with Captain Karisa and the chief, the only people who know the truth. So tell us what you know about Lady Olivia, and then we will happily stop."
Ethan smiled. Blood already marked his teeth from the second punch. "I do not know what you are talking about. Even if I did, why would I ever tell cunts like you..." he said, pointing at the defense mage.
"And you..." He pointed at the attack mage. "And finally you." He said, without pointing, but he spat.
The mess landed across the healer’s face. He wiped it off with the back of one hand.
"Ha! Your funeral, then..." he said, waving his hand.
The defense mage laughed once. Short. Dry.
"Thank you," the defense mage said. "For pissing him off," he said, punching Ethan’s face.
Thwak!
"I can play with you a bit more now."
Thwak!
"And by the way, this is how greetings work among mages. No hard feelings."
Thwak! Thwak!... THWAK!
The next punch came faster. Ethan took it on the jaw this time and hit the ground, rolled, and stayed there until the healer’s light reached him again.
Ethan’s eyes flickered with lightning once, but he controlled it, there were cameras near. This was not the place.
Then the cycle repeated. Punch. Heal. Punch. Heal. The defense mage varied the targets. Ribs. Stomach. Side of the head. Each time the healer restored him just enough to stay conscious.
Each time, Ethan got back up more slowly. He kept the new strength locked down. One wrong move and lightning would tear out of him. A tornado of it. He could not risk that here. Not with transfer papers already signed.
Hours passed that way. The sky slowly darkened. Other soldiers stayed clear of the field. No one wanted to watch. No one wanted to get pulled in.
Ethan’s face swelled now.
Blood ran from his nose and a cut above his eye. The healer’s light kept knitting the worst of it, but the pain stacked, as his body remembered every hit even after the magic cleared the marks.
Meanwhile, Marcus found out near the end of the day. Someone must have talked, and with that, Marcus came at a full run across the open ground. He saw the mages, and he saw Ethan. Without hesitation, his sidearm was already in his hand.
He raised it and fired the moment he had a clear angle.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The shot cracked the air, but the mages’ shields flared blue and caught the rounds. They sparked and dropped harmlessly into the dirt.
"Ha! Another one here..."
The three mages laughed. The defense mage wiped blood from his knuckles, and the healer shut off the last of his light and left Ethan where he was.
"Let’s get to him as well..."
"No, the chief must have already heard about it. Our job is done," the attack mage said.
The attack mage had stayed silent the entire time as she watched Marcus with flat eyes. Finally she spoke.
"...Okay, then."
Then they lifted off slowly, with no further words and no further healing. They rose into the darkening sky and vanished over the barracks roof.
Ethan lay on his side. Blood soaked the front of his uniform. He breathed through his mouth while Marcus dropped to one knee beside him and holstered the gun.
"I am... fine," Ethan said, seeing the rage in Marcus’s eyes. The words came out thick. "They are leaving, and our transfer is set. I do not want drama with them right now.
Junior goes against senior, and the paperwork never ends."
Marcus’s face stayed tight. "You should have fought back. At least once."
Ethan did not answer. He could not explain the control problem. The new power sat too close to the surface. One slip and the field would have been a crater. Marcus would have been in the middle of it.
Ethan was sure that if he had lifted a finger then, his lightning would have crackled out, he had that much less control.
"Fuck..." Marcus said. "FUUCCCCK!"
Marcus cursed under his breath and got an arm under Ethan’s shoulders. He hauled him upright right away.
Ethan’s legs held, but just barely. They started the slow walk back toward the medical lab.
The attack mage dropped from the sky ahead of them. Marcus’s hand went to his gun again. "Fuck off, otherwise I swear to god..."
She raised both palms. Empty. "I am... sorry." The words came out cold. No warmth in them. "I believed he could have beaten both of them if he chose to, I think...
That is why I stayed quiet. But he stayed there, taking hit after hit. Looking at him now," she said, at the bruised face,
"I see a great warrior in heart. A great mage in mind."
With those words, she turned and rose into the air without waiting for a reply, while Marcus spat after her and kept walking.
Ethan still said nothing.
They reached the medical lab. The same narrow bed. The same monitors. Marcus lowered him onto the mattress and stepped back. "You just got free of this place. Now you’re stuck here again for a long stretch."
Ethan closed his eyes. The pain pulsed in steady waves as the morphine kicked in slowly.
Marcus stayed a few minutes longer, checking the monitors.
"Don’t worry, I will talk to the chief, and make those cunts pay," he growled, and then left. The door shut.
The room went quiet except for the soft hum of the machines.
"Haaa... I can’t even stop him," he said. "There goes my day. Here I thought I would stretch my powers a bit."
Ethan drifted as time stretched. The lights stayed low. He heard the door open again later. Soft footsteps. He slowly opened his eyes.
"Marcus, please, I am trying to sl—"
"Not Marcus." A familiar voice came.
Ethan turned to see a hooded figure, as she lowered her hood.
Olivia stood at the foot of the bed. Or Athena. The name still sat strange in his head. She looked the same as the last time he had seen her. Calm. Controlled.
Her eyes moved over the bruises the healer had not fully erased, and the blood still dried on his collar.
"Ha, you deserved it, actually..."