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Silver Eyes (Part 1)

Silver Eyes (Part 1)

A blast of water bursts in the air, and grains of sand fall from the sky. A ball of sand zips through the sky like a shooting star headed toward Lahar. She fires a shot and freezes the ball in midair. The ball falls and hits the beach.

A ball turns to stone as it flies, aimed at her ribs. Ivory stretches from her hand all the way to her ribs as she grips her knife. The blade slices through the stone as if it were paper. The last three balls aim for her chest, yet before they can come close, Lahar whispers her spell. Thick coral stretches from below the sand and traps them in a cage of her design.

Piles of sand and ice are scattered on the battlefield she calls a beach. Lahar can hear a round of applause coming from the side. Arena, Doc, and a few Crews clap as they sit far from the action. She turns and bows for her crowd. As she raises her head, she sees King standing in front of her.

He flickers his flame rapidly as he walks around her. "Oh, he doesn't look happy," Arena whispers to Doc and Crew.

"Please slow down. It's hard to understand you when you flicker at this pace," Lahar says nervously. King turns to her, and his flickering slows down. He goes on about her stance, sloppy technique, and pitiful timing.

Lahar grows frustrated as he lectures her. "There was improvement out there," she says, annoyed.

"Now listen to him, Lahar. A keen and focused body is important in spell casting, just like a keen mind. Not as important but still important. You should listen to King. Out of everyone here, he is the best fighter." King stands prideful as he basks in Arena's praise. His horn twitches as his flame burns bright.

"I know that. I don't need two people lecturing me." Sweat hits the sand as she puts the water gun in the holster and places the knife in the leather sheath attached to her belt.

"Why don't we call it a day? I feel exhausted," Lahar says, wiping the sweat from her face. King nods in agreement. With this, Arena grabs a wooden cane from the ground and uses it to help himself up. "Well, that means I am on my way," he says as Crew and Pie stand with him.

"Where are you heading off to? You're in no condition to go anywhere outside the barrier," Lahar says sternly.

"I need to check on Void's seal. Since I woke up, I haven't been there. I just want to make sure it's still intact and at one hundred percent."

Lahar's eyebrows twitch. Arena can tell by the tone she isn't pleased by this. "You can barely stand on your own. We can go with you. I want to make sure you don't get hurt."

"Don't think because I am using a cane that I can't take care of myself. I am far more capable than you give me credit for. Plus, I'm bringing the one-man army and this burning sun." He points to King and Doc with his cane. "You two stay and make sure she is safe."

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Arena looks at her with compassion. "Trust me, I will be fine. Why don't you use this time to relax and enjoy the beautiful day? You can decide to do something for everyone and have something ready to eat prepared."

"No, no. You don't shirk your responsibilities onto me. It's your turn to cook today, Mohawk boy," she says.

"Oh, I'm healthy enough to cook but not to go out," Arena jokingly mumbles as he turns his back on her and walks off the beach and into the field.

"Just don't take long. We're all hungry here," she yells to him. Doc and King walk to her side. "Well, how about it? Why don't we relax a bit?" She walks into the house to change her clothes and get what she needs.

She walks out in her Starry Night two-piece swimsuit and a blue cover skirt. She fastens her yellow lace sandals and picks up the lazy beach chair from beside the door. Out of instinct she has a journal held under her armpit and her belt with the water gun and a knife holstered on her arm.

The wisps are on the beach building large and finely detailed sand sculptures. Lahar sets the chair up on the warm sand. She lies back on the chair and opens the book. The heat of the sun cooks her body as the sound of the waves soothes her mind. Her eyelids grow heavy, and the words on the pages become blurry. After a few pages, everything goes dark for her.

Then a sensation runs down her spine. It's a new feeling she has never felt before. She opens her eyes to see darkness. She places her hands on her face to feel the book cover. She lifts it and sees that some time has passed. The sun has moved, but it's still daytime. It can't have been more than an hour.

She looks around the beach to find the wisps' two statues done. One is of King sitting on a throne with a large crown on his head. The other is of a fox with what looks like a Mohawk playfully chasing a rabbit with a bangle around its front left foot. She can tell they're happy because both have cartoonish smiles on their faces.

Lahar closes her eyes once more. This time she focuses on the Source around her. She sees two familiar lights on the beach, at the edge of the barrier. The hairs on her body rise as she sees a new light. It's unfamiliar and outshines the two wisps.

Without hesitation, Lahar opens her eyes and fastens her belt around her waist. The feeling grows stronger as she tightens the belt, but this doesn't slow her down. She pulls on the back of her sandals, repositioning them before taking off in a full sprint.

She doesn't think as she runs down the beach. She instinctively pulls the water gun out the holster. Just a few feet away from the wisps, she realizes something important. She doesn't have her bag with her potions. Slightly more nervous than before, she presses on.

The wisps are in sight, on her side of the barrier. She sighs in relief at the sight, though it is short-lived. A thin light stretches across vertically in midair. It would be better to describe the sight as a crack in the air. A strong wind pushes out of the crack, and a cloud of sand is sent flying up. King's arms and legs are already stone, with fire spewing from their cracks. Doc readies herself, with one hand holding her slingshot and the other in her bag.

Lahar aims the water gun at the crack as her other hand squeezes the handle of her knife. A loud, high-pitched grunt bursts into Lahar's ears as the crack widens. Slipping between the cracks is two hands. The hands are covered in black gloves with green writing shining all around them.