Page 9 of Buoy
Rhys nodded. “Good. I leave for the academy in twelve.”
“Good night, Rhys.” Soren yawned as the pair went their separate ways. It was getting late, and he needed sleep.
RHYS (AGE 13)
Rhys stood over Soren, who hung over the edge of the dock with his arm dangling almost into the water.
“How did you…” Rhys couldn’t believe what he saw when Soren showed him he worked the magic from the night before.
“I don’t know how to describe it. What magic I do know is usually water based. So I figured—”
“Magic isn’t really based on elements, though. More emotions and energy.” Rhys tried not to sound like a pretentious ass, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. “You can shape and use elements, but—”
“I just know how to manipulate water. Sometimes.” Soren shrugged. “So I tried what you did, and it worked.”
Soren once again wet his sleeve to show Rhys what he could do. The boy didn’t even have to touch the wet material. The water just soared to his open hand, then he flung it back into the ocean. He had the biggest grin on his face when he stood. His white hair was a wild halo hanging past his shoulders, untamed compared to the day before.
Rhys had to admit he was jealous. Really jealous. Over weeks he had learned how to manipulate water. He took extra tutoring, but Soren could work with water so easily. Not just that, but changed how Rhys had done the magic. Maybe Soren was part fae, but his ears had never been pointed. Or maybe half-fae’s ear points come later in life?
Soren smoothed his hands down his over-large shirt. Probably the same one he wore the day before. Maybe even the year before. When he looked back at Rhys, Soren’s expression shuttered, the colors going wild from blue to violet to black in the bright sunlight.
“I’ve upset you.” Soren backed away. His breaths were fast, his chest moving quickly.
“No… I’m—”
“You’re smoking,” Soren whispered.
Rhys clamped a hand over his mouth. Sure enough, smoke filled his palm when he pulled away. “I’m not mad at you.” He took a step forward, but Soren kept backing up, trembling.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Soren squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Every time Vex’s angry, his fire burns and he smokes. Then…”
Heat rushed to Rhys’ face. “Oh skies, Soren. I’m sorry. I’m… I’m just jealous.” He took a deep breath and slowly released it. “It took me ages to work water magic.”
Soren stood there, refusing to open his eyes. “You’re a dragon. You are fire. And heat. And warmth.” Soren’s voice was small, and Rhys hated he had done that to him.
“Water doesn’t come easily to someone that burns.” Rhys couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled from him. Of course, it made sense. He just never thought that way. No wonder the ravens and hawks at the academy worked easily with air. His fellow dragons excelled at fire. When he thought that way, everything made sense.
Soren opened his eyes then. He chewed on his bottom lip. “You’re really not mad at me?”
“No.” Rhys didn’t think he could truly ever be mad at Soren.
“I can’t do fire.” Soren looked around before continuing. He cupped his hands together and slowly the sea behind him rose in thin tendrils to come together in a swirling ball between his hands. “I practice when no one is around. Everything I learned before being sold.” He dropped his hands and let the water splash to the deck, wetting their legs to the knees. “I don’t go to a fancy school, but magic is important to me.”
Rhys’ cheeks burned hotter than every fire he ever played with. “I’m sorry I scared you. And I’m sorry I was jealous. You’re really very impressive.” But how? Was he human? Half-fae? Rhys had been told humans couldn’t easily work magic in any capacity. Not without proper training. But Soren wielded water like he breathed the element. Didn’t matter what he was, though, Soren was good with magic. “How long did you learn for… before?” And why did you hide it last year?
“Eight years? I was eight when I was sold. Where I come from, you learn water magic from the time… well. From the day you’re born.”
“That early?” Rhys couldn’t imagine how that was even possible. “Are you from a coastal town?”
Soren’s mood had sobered, and he picked at his short nails. “I don’t remember. Can’t go back if I wanted to because I don’t remember how to get back.”
“Oh.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t have friends there. You’re my first.” Soren puffed out his chest and stood taller. But then he shrank back. “Unless… you don’t want—”
“We’re friends. Always.”
That earned him a bright smile, and a happy little trill. Rhys memorized how Soren looked. His eyes shone vivid deep blue. He leaped forward and tapped Rhys on the arm. “Tag, you’re it!” Then he was off, running down the dock in the opposite direction, loose hair flowing in the wind.
