Page 18 of Rebirth Of Order
An enemy to my friend is my….?
ANGIE
Approaching the boardroom for debriefing,I pause outside the entrance, contemplating their plans, since normally I’m not allowed inside. Even with my status as Holland often reminds me. Besides, I’m not keen on occupying a room filled with some of our most powerful fay. Everyone has a point to prove by showing their dominance over the other.Males with egos.
“What’s with the hesitation?” Ethan startles me.
“Damn it. You have to stop doing that, and don’t correct my language.”
“Come now, they’re waiting for us,” he says, returning an asshole-ish grin.
Pushing against the massive marble doors, his arm muscles expand, bulging against the seams of his black button-down like they’re going to rip through at any moment. A clear sign these towering slabs separating us from our Elders are entirely too damn big.
A resounding boom signals our presence as the doors collide with the walls, and Ethan gives me a wink before vanishing. All attention falls to me as his golden sigil fades.
“Asshole,” I whisper while entering. The doors slam behind me, and a frightening jump follows. My phone buzzes, and by the Gods I swear it’s a sign I shouldn’t be in here. Of course it’s ‘him’ who messages me.
Ethan
Language. I heard that.
“Fuck off,” I mutter as my phone slides into the thin pocket of my leggings.
A parroting of low chatter spreads about, and I have an unsettling feeling that it isn’t about me. Time expands slowly, yet only half a minute progresses since my feet crossed beyond their doors. The rules dictate I wait to be called forward. Holland’s way of demanding order regardless of how ludicrous these rules seem. He needs the notion of control, or he’ll flail around, throwing a fit like a newborn fayling.
Beyond these thick walls, other students pass, undoubtedly prying around campus to see what new additions were added, when a sudden knock interrupts the order. The doors glide across the now smooth path, no doubt by magic, and Kyra stands beside Elizabeth, wearing a contagious grin. It’s nice seeing my bestie back on her feet without a scowl masking her emotions.
“Come in, girl, and stand before us,” Holland demands.So much for that smile. I walk back and retrieve her, returning a forced grin. Like Kyra, I too would rather be elsewhere.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll answer a few questions, then leave,” I explain, trying to ease her mind. She steps inward, and the thick slabs close behind us.
Advancing further, we now stand in the room’s center, surrounded by six chairs on the second floor, and one in front of us. All above chairs are filled, minus one, and after a swift inspection, I know exactly who is missing.
The lights brighten, and every elder murmurs with their sightscemented on Kyra. She responds with a distasteful glare and accepts my hand, reaching out for hers.
“Settle down, everyone. Settle down,” Holland projects, pacing to and fro. “We’re here to discuss last night’s events in the mortal realm.” Those seated up-top watch him intensely, hanging on to every word. “The three before you may have intel on our enemy’s motives and whereabouts.”
Wrinkles beneath his eyes stretch to the sides of his face, tattling on the level of sleep he has been receiving. From where I stand, it’s borderline zero.
“Three? There’s only two with you. Where is the third?” one of the above elder’s shouts. Holland turns, and an empty chair lays bare. Irritated, he clenches his fist then snags me into his resentful gaze. His aura hits me like a fierce wave crashing into the rocks during high tide.
And I love swimming.
His demeanor darkens. “Girl, where is he?”
“Sir, I don’t know. I assumed he’d be here by now,” I answer low and non-hostile with a minor shoulder shrug. “If you like, I can–” A gust of wind spawns from Holland’s palm, hitting me head on, and sends me aloft towards the entrance.
In anticipation of pummeling against the thick marble, my muscles clench, holding a breath so it’s not stolen after the collision. But such a moment never transpires, and I come to a complete halt, midair.
“Are you okay?” Ethan asks. His tone, low and gentle, masks a murderous grumble.
“Yeah. He caught me off guard, is all. I’m fine. And I–”
“I know. You don’t need protecting,” he says, with an annoying smirk.
Placing me down feet first, Ethan disappears without a blink. Similar to when he fought against the gloom. He reappears shoulder to shoulder with Holland and faces those seated above. His height isgrander, and he is more physically fit, which in our society, plays a key factor in winning a battle.
Holland, on the other hand, is wider and stockier. He boasts a broad chest with a stomach as hard as it is round, and hair bulges from the top of his brassbound shirt. Between the two of them, it’s like watching a tiger stand beside a warthog. Maybe I’m exaggerating a bit.
