pieces.”
“Oh, it’s impossible to get out of it once you’re inside.”
“Why would you –” Aidan stopped and slapped a palm onto his forehead. “How are you able to get me roped into these ridiculous conversations?”
“It’s because we’re best friends,” Isaac said, retrieving his dagger and throwing it from one hand to the other. “And the bitterest of rivals.”
“Says you,” Aidan muttered, looking around him. “We only hang out because Bailey requires us to. If it was up to me, I would spend my time on more important matters.”
“Like Leah?” Isaac flashed him a cheesy grin. As he smiled, he extended the dagger in his hand out towards Aidan and it began to grow. Slowly, the surface of the blade expanded until it was the size of a man’s torso in length. The hilt stretched out until it was nearly a foot long, and in seconds, the dagger had transformed into a massive sword. Aidan wasn’t impressed.
“Could you stop bringing her up?” he asked politely. “It’s annoying.”
“Why? Because she makes your heart ache? She gives you those butterflies?”
“Butterflies?” Aidan sighed, putting a palm on his forehead again.
“You know, that fluttering feeling you get in your stomach when you’re in love?”
“That’s not it –”
“But you do loooooooove her,” Isaac laughed, expanding his sword even further, until it was larger than his entire body. Still, he kept it outstretched as if it possessed the same weight of a dagger.
“Now that I think of it,” Aidan said through squinting eyes. “Bailey did say there were rumors about us being together. I wonder where she heard such things.”
“You’re not insinuating it was me, are you?” Isaac said with an appalled look on his face. “I mean, why would I spy on you? It’s not like you’re this hot-headed risk that needs to be babysat because one wrong move and everything we’ve worked for is unraveled.”
“No,” Aidan smiled. “Of course not. I’m as harmless as a newborn kitten.”
“I know,” Isaac smiled back. “That’s why this sparring session will end with your butt planted firmly on the ground.”
“You’ve never won a match between us.”
“Because I’ve held back.”
“You always say that,” Aidan said, letting a chuckle escape. He noticed that the other villagers in the field, young and old, had begun to back away, taking their manifestations and play to a safer distance. The last thing they wanted was the equivalent of having their sand castle kicked over.
“Does that mean you can’t beat me?” Isaac said, crouching low. He kept his sword close to his body now, forcing Aidan to stare back at himself in the blade’s reflective surface. “I’m ready for whatever you have to dish out.”
“If you’ve been holding back,” Aidan warned. “That means you won’t mind if I take this a little more seriously.”
“Of course not,” Isaac’s voice quavered. Aidan opened the palm of his right hand and the liquid fire began to leave the pores of his skin, seeping out in a concentrated mold until it had formed into a sword made of magma, about four feet in length. He cut off the flow abruptly, and the magma hardened, creating a black and red blade that was crude in design, but still sharp enough to heavily damage flesh. He glanced over at Isaac for his reaction.
“You’re really going to come at me with a sword?” Isaac laughed. “After what you know about me?”
“Just because you wished to become a master swordsman with a blade you could manipulate by your imagination, that doesn’t mean I can’t overcome you. You’re still a product of Lowsunn’s teachings.”
“You keep saying stuff like that as if it makes me weak. Perhaps survival training here isn’t as extensive as being out in the field, but I was taught tactics. Strategy. You had to go off your emotions, and that means you only know the situations you’ve actually experienced. You don’t know how to deal with a
“Oh, it’s impossible to get out of it once you’re inside.”
“Why would you –” Aidan stopped and slapped a palm onto his forehead. “How are you able to get me roped into these ridiculous conversations?”
“It’s because we’re best friends,” Isaac said, retrieving his dagger and throwing it from one hand to the other. “And the bitterest of rivals.”
“Says you,” Aidan muttered, looking around him. “We only hang out because Bailey requires us to. If it was up to me, I would spend my time on more important matters.”
“Like Leah?” Isaac flashed him a cheesy grin. As he smiled, he extended the dagger in his hand out towards Aidan and it began to grow. Slowly, the surface of the blade expanded until it was the size of a man’s torso in length. The hilt stretched out until it was nearly a foot long, and in seconds, the dagger had transformed into a massive sword. Aidan wasn’t impressed.
“Could you stop bringing her up?” he asked politely. “It’s annoying.”
“Why? Because she makes your heart ache? She gives you those butterflies?”
“Butterflies?” Aidan sighed, putting a palm on his forehead again.
“You know, that fluttering feeling you get in your stomach when you’re in love?”
“That’s not it –”
“But you do loooooooove her,” Isaac laughed, expanding his sword even further, until it was larger than his entire body. Still, he kept it outstretched as if it possessed the same weight of a dagger.
“Now that I think of it,” Aidan said through squinting eyes. “Bailey did say there were rumors about us being together. I wonder where she heard such things.”
“You’re not insinuating it was me, are you?” Isaac said with an appalled look on his face. “I mean, why would I spy on you? It’s not like you’re this hot-headed risk that needs to be babysat because one wrong move and everything we’ve worked for is unraveled.”
“No,” Aidan smiled. “Of course not. I’m as harmless as a newborn kitten.”
“I know,” Isaac smiled back. “That’s why this sparring session will end with your butt planted firmly on the ground.”
“You’ve never won a match between us.”
“Because I’ve held back.”
“You always say that,” Aidan said, letting a chuckle escape. He noticed that the other villagers in the field, young and old, had begun to back away, taking their manifestations and play to a safer distance. The last thing they wanted was the equivalent of having their sand castle kicked over.
“Does that mean you can’t beat me?” Isaac said, crouching low. He kept his sword close to his body now, forcing Aidan to stare back at himself in the blade’s reflective surface. “I’m ready for whatever you have to dish out.”
“If you’ve been holding back,” Aidan warned. “That means you won’t mind if I take this a little more seriously.”
“Of course not,” Isaac’s voice quavered. Aidan opened the palm of his right hand and the liquid fire began to leave the pores of his skin, seeping out in a concentrated mold until it had formed into a sword made of magma, about four feet in length. He cut off the flow abruptly, and the magma hardened, creating a black and red blade that was crude in design, but still sharp enough to heavily damage flesh. He glanced over at Isaac for his reaction.
“You’re really going to come at me with a sword?” Isaac laughed. “After what you know about me?”
“Just because you wished to become a master swordsman with a blade you could manipulate by your imagination, that doesn’t mean I can’t overcome you. You’re still a product of Lowsunn’s teachings.”
“You keep saying stuff like that as if it makes me weak. Perhaps survival training here isn’t as extensive as being out in the field, but I was taught tactics. Strategy. You had to go off your emotions, and that means you only know the situations you’ve actually experienced. You don’t know how to deal with a
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