Just beyond the evergreen shrubs, a pair of blue eyes watched as Viola slowly walked up to Roy. She reached for the paper. Her mouth moved, smiling ear to ear, but it was just a series of mumblings. Samuel’s nose crinkled in disdain.
Roy’s eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar tunic. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
“I thought I’d find you here.” Samuel said. He stepped up to Viola, snatching the paper from her hands.
“What’s this?” Samuel asked, pulling the corners straight. Viola swiped at the page, only for Samuel to spin away from her, “Kriedeberg? I was expecting poetry.”
“Give it back!” Viola yelled, reaching again. Samuel turned his shoulder towards her.
“You want it back? Fine.” Samuel drove the paper into her chest with enough force to push her back. A hand dug into his collarbone, shoving him towards the lake shore. Samuel regained his balance, surprised by Viola’s frailty.
“How’d you find us?” Viola asked.
“Dark-haired outlanders stand out. I want to know what you see in this peregrine Bjornshite.”
“Don’t listen-” Viola put her hand on Roy’s arm, pulling away quickly. His body felt like the bottom of a boiling pot.
“Don’t touch her again.” Roy said.
Viola jumped, surprised by the sharp, deep voice Roy commanded. She spun around, running to the village. She was stopped by two more boys, one shoving her to the ground. Her shoulder blades dug into the mud, and her head narrowly missed a large stone in the silt. Roy felt a jolt in his spine as he felt the impact through his boots. Samuel took a step towards him like a cat with its head lowered, a wry grin on his face.
“You dare?” Samuel said. His face contorted into rage. A closed fist smashed into Roy’s stomach, sending him staggering towards the tree line. His eyes had become the yawning mouth of pitch black cave lined with moss. He jumped back, avoiding a heavy hit to the jaw.
“Sam, stop!” Viola screamed as Roy’s body hit a series of saplings. Viola charged in, taking hold of Samuel’s arms as he stared into her eyes. He swung his arms free, sending her crashing to the ground. A shuffling in the leaves brought Samuel’s attention back to the wall of anger crashing towards him. A crater formed where Samuel fell, fists barraging his forearms as he shielded himself from the snarling Bjornborn. Roy held his fist in the air like a sword, halting as Samuel panted. For a moment, he could see his own rage in Samuel’s eyes. A knee shot upward, smashing into Roy’s groin. He yelped, hunching as Samuel threw him to the side. Samuel could no longer hear Viola screaming for them to stop. He could feel the soft skin of Roy’s neck beneath his fingertips. The pressure intensified as Samuel leaned into it, his thumbs digging into the sides.
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“You’re killing him!” Viola tried to pry Samuel from atop Roy.
Roy could feel a quickening inside of him like flames crawling along bark. Anger crackled and burned. His throat burned, his stomach churned. Roy sucked in cold air like a pike, punching at Samuel as the corners of his vision shrunk away into blackness. He felt the sun’s heat despite its glowing majesty being cast in a cloak of clouds.
Roy kicked at the Samuel’s leg, missing by a hair. Roy gasped, a high-pitched grunt shot from his lips. His arms grew heavier with each second. His right hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Samuel’s forearm. Samuel tried to pull his hand out of Roy’s grip. Roy stared into the boy’s eyes, shaking as tears fell down air-starved cheeks. His vision blurred; his teeth ached. A rush of cold brushed Roy as the heat became unbearable. It immolated his insides like liquid metal poured into a pig’s stomach.
Viola stared as smoke billowed from Roy’s fingertips. Samuel released his grip, screaming as the smoke enveloped him for a few seconds. Samuel was released from Roy’s volcanic grip. Roy gasped heavily, flipping onto his stomach as he coughed black bile.
Samuel turned, sprinting towards the lake. He crashed into the ice, whimpering and stuttering as he tried to cool his blazing arm in the newly exposed patch of lake.
Viola ran towards Roy, falling into the snow as she leaned down to meet his eyes. Roy staggered as Viola placed her hand on his back, his tunic shuddering violently as his voice cracked from the pain. Roy stared at his hand as though it were made of a million ants. Disgust filled the air along with the scent of burned flesh.
“What are you?” Samuel asked, wincing as he nursed his arm.
Roy looked up the length of his arm. It felt as though he had just shoved his arm up to his chest in a forge. He put a hand above his heart. It was scorching hot. He put his head in his hands, struggling to think. The trees blurred, and a new sensation enveloped him as the heat faded. He could hear Viola’s voice, but her words didn’t make sense. He only heeded the roaring of water in his ears and the knives in his throat.
Samuel, holding his wrist, sprinted into the forest. Viola stayed by Roy as he fell onto his side.
“I’m sorry.” Roy groaned.
“You’re a mage.” Viola whispered.
“No.” Roy coughed, more black tar spilled from the corners of his lips.
“Just… please, don’t move.” Viola said, “You need to rest.”
Roy stared out at the lake. His head was angled so that the trees reflected off the ice with perfect symmetry. It was as though the forest itself had formed one massive pine. Kriedeberg loomed overhead.
“I’m not.”