“Shit. I’m lost.”

Narvari rubbed her forehead as she thought about how this was harder than she had expected. She had ventured farther into the garden only to realize that she was no longer in a garden but a freaking forest. Giant trees surrounded her from all angles. How the hell was all this in one school?

Twigs snapped and birds chirped. A low howling sound came from the north. Narvari stopped. This place didn’t have wild animals, did it? She listened carefully, her senses on high alert. No, it didn’t sound like an animal. It was more like the whooshing of wind. She followed the sound. The further she got, the louder it became. It was like there was a helicopter waiting out somewhere, though she doubted a helicopter could land anywhere in this dense forest.

Leaves blew all around Narvari per the will of the strong gale. She darted behind one of the large trees when she saw someone.

Standing in the middle of the woods was a man naked from the waist up. A mighty gale encircled him, ready to tear him apart. Yet, he seemed completely calm and unshaken. He moved his strong arms slowly and fluidly, as though he was doing some kind of enchanting spiritual dance. When Narvari watched closely, she saw that the man’s graceful movements were controlling the wind. Narvari would have never thought that a person with such bulky muscles could be this graceful.

Then he stopped moving. He stood still as his sharp brown eyes gazed in Narvari’s direction as if looking for someone. Narvari knew the man couldn’t see him. The large tree concealed her body.

“Don’t be shy,” he said. “You can come out.”

Narvari raised a brow. Was the man talking to her? She discreetly looked around her to see if he was referring to someone else but there was no one else around.

“I’m talking to you, rookie.” He chuckled. When Narvari didn’t come out, he continued, “The tall dark-skinned girl with the brown eyes and cornrows wearing the black shirt and denim pants, hiding behind the tree like a little b–”

“Jesus Christ.” Narvari came into plain sight. “Can you be even more descriptive?”

How had he seen her anyway? For the first time, no longer entranced by the man’s dance, Narvari studied him carefully. He looked like one of those new college graduates who spent a lot of time in a gym. He wasn’t overly bulky like those on steroids or anything but he still had bulging muscles. She had a feeling he could probably smash a tree with a single punch.

She could not tell the difference between people from Earth and Agon, but if this man were from Earth, then he was East Asian. Yet, his silver eyes and light purple hair tied in a ponytail screamed unearthly. Maybe he was wearing contact lenses. She almost assumed he had dyed his hair but then his eyebrows were the same light purple just like his hair.

He grinned. “I know. I’m a real catch.”

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Actually, I just think you look….” now how could she say this without being rude, “…unusual.” But he was right. He was good-looking.

He laughed heartily. “And you look… mundane.” He smiled widely, challenging Narvari to refute his statement.

Narvari did not. She had to agree with whoever this man was. She stuck out like a sore thumb in this school. She didn’t think she was ugly or anything. She was just plain compared to everyone else she had seen here.

“You’re new, aren’t you?”

“I guess.” Narvari shrugged.

“You must be one of Trixan’s special recruits.”

“Special recruit?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Trixan personally recruits and trains them. You are a lucky one.” The man chuckled. His bright attitude went directly against his very macho look. Okay, why was she judging this man like she knew him?

“I don’t know about being a special recruit. I haven’t even joined yet.”

He nodded. “Ah, forgive my manners. I’m Servin Rahalan.”

He gave Narvari a firm shake. His calloused palm felt like the scales of a prehistoric reptile. Not that she knew what the scale of a prehistoric reptile felt like. What kind of training did this man go through to get such rough hands? Servin stared at Narvari with an expectant smile. Narvari suddenly remembered that she had to introduce herself in return. Damn social norms.

“I’m Narvari Shar.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Rookie.”

Servin finally released Narvari’s hand. “It’s Narvari Shar.”

“I heard that, Rookie.” Servin grinned.

Oh god, it’s Yanvirrak 2.0. “How did you know I was here anyway? You didn’t see me, did you?” She was sure the man had not seen her.

“I didn’t. I merely sensed your presence with elema.”

Narvari blinked rapidly. “What now?”

A sly smile appeared at the corner of Servin’s lips. “I knew you were a rookie.”

Jesus.

“At least tell me you know what sacros is,” said Servin.

“I know what sacros is.”

“You have a sense of humor,” Servin smirked. “Like sacros, elema is also a form of sacred energy but a lot more powerful than sacros. It exists in the form of a unique element. As you can see, mine is wind.” Servin moved his hands forward in one fluid movement. The wind gathered around his hands like a vortex.

“I call it Hurricane.”

“Very cool. You sensed me with that?”

“I did, Rookie.”

“Can I use it too?”

“What? Elema?”

When Narvari nodded in the affirmative, he broke into hysterical laughter like he had the greatest joke of all time.

“First things first, Rookie. You need to train and master your sacros first. Then maybe someday, after even more training, when you’re not dead yet, you might awaken your elema. But don’t worry, you have a great teacher.”

“Trixan?”

Servin nodded. “She knows her stuff. You’ll see.”

Everyone thought so highly of Trixan. They talked about her with so much reverence…

“Are you one of her students?”

“I am not,” he said. “I trained in a different school but I transferred here as a professional vanquisher about fifteen or sixteen years ago. I don’t remember. Maybe seventeen years ago.”

“Seventeen years ago?” Jesus. How old were these people? And why the hell did they all look so young?

“You are too easily impressed, Rookie.” Servin laughed. “Well then, I need to get back to training. These muscles don’t build themselves.” Servin flexed the muscles on his chest.

Narvari shook her head but her smile never faded.

“My doors, are always open, Rookie. If you need any training advice, you can come to me as long as I’m around, alright?”

“Thanks,” said Narvari, not quite understanding what was happening. It was odd how she barely knew the man and yet he spoke to her with so much familiarity. She would assume all vanquishers were overly friendly, but then she remembered Zemeron and Azmel who were both colder than Pluto. So maybe it was just Servin. Speaking of remembrance, she suddenly remembered she had a bed. She was too exhausted from all the walking around in the school and wanted nothing but to fall into the softness of her blanket.