Cursed Blood

I was sweating, droplets dampening my collar. My neck was on fire, the heat trapped by my mane of hair that stuck to it. The temperature did nothing to help me as I watched Dmitri closely, gauging his attacks. He was dead set on beating me and making me eat my words, and I was determined to fight my way out of this. Fists or sword, wings or tail. I would learn to fight.

Faster than I could react, Dmitri swung his blade in an expert combo. Instinct took over and I snarled, lifting my arms to try and block a blade. It cut through my arm, but he was able to stop himself before doing real damage. He dropped the sword, prepared to take me to the infirmary, when suddenly, the wound began to close over. Quicker than anything had even healed, even for me. A blast of light hit my vision, causing me to stumble as memories flashed in my mind. Chains, locked boxes, the annoying sounds of rattling keys. A dark cell, and syringes. Blood.

As quick as it happened, the feeling passed. The thinest scar was left behind, but that too was fading. I shook out my hands, staring back at Dmitri as he searched me for signs of my Darkblood half.

"Wasn't me," I muttered, then I lunged. His sword was still on the ground, wet with blood. He wasn't quick enough to use his fists as I flew at him, striking his throat. As he choked, I used the momentum to kick his jaw, and continued to turn as my fist flew toward his gut. It was a flawless combo I remembered the soldiers practicing before, when I'd met Kyra.

Dmitri coughed, blood coming from his mouth. My eyes widened, and I realized I could probably hit much harder than a regular Lightblood who didn't have my gifts. My attacks instantly stopped, but I made sure to pick up the sword before approaching Dmitri. He kneeled, calming his breathing.

I barely heard him whisper "gotcha" before he lunged, diving from his sword. I dropped my shoulder and met him half way, his chest ramming into the hard bone. Wincing, I dug my ankles in and pushed back, bringing the sword in to hit the hilt off his stomach. The force of it all drove Dmitri back, his teeth exposed as he grinned like a madman.

"Already improving, Cloud?" He sneered, and I growled. Sweat dripped down his brow, his chest heaving as he rubbed at his stomach. I snorted, rather ungracefully, and lunged for him. Dmitri matched me blow for blow, though we blocked most of each other's attacks. I had a noticable advantage, but didn't know how to use it. We went back and forth until I felt a spark in my fingertips, and claws nearly shot from my fingers. I flipped back, with even newer agility, and shook out my hand until my nerves relaxed.

"No Darkblood," Dmitri warned me, crossing his arms. I rolled my eyes, clenching my regular hand into fists.

"Better. Let's finish this."

The specialist paused, his emotions showing through as he seemed to glare at me in anger. What would have once caused me to worry about what I was now gave me the confidence. When fear was in their eyes, whether they be Darkblood or Lightblood, it meant they recognized and respected my power. It meant I had the upper hand, and even without wings, I was still worth that respect.

I see your fear, I thought, and as the thought developped in my mind, I noticed one of my extra senses picking up. It was the one that allowed me to pinpoint his pain, and I began to feel it radiate from his torso where I'd hit him, and his arms.

He's in pain because of the heavy blocks that happen during our hand to hand, I realized, ducking underneath his neck attack. I rolled past him, not bothering to try and sweep his legs. Instead I bounced up, reaching a high enough height that I could see the top of his head. My fist came down on the soft flesh in between his shoulder and neck, and I heard him groan in pain as he fell to a knee. This time, I used my feet. He landed on his throbbing shoulder in the ruined grass once my foot connected with the back of his knee, and I grinned in victory.

"Now you have to stop calling me a kid," I said as he slowly picked himself up, mud stuck to his skin. I blushed, looking away as he turned toward me. My pride from winning melted away until I was left with childish embarrassment.

Dmitri smirked, but groaned in pain as well. "You learn quickly, Cloud. I'm surprised they haven't made you the Prince's bodyguard."

I rolled my eyes, turning away from him. When I walked toward the edge of the mountain, he followed out of curiosity, and when I sat down, he did too. We sat side by side, right after trying to beat the crap out of each other, and looked out of the kingdom's Valley together.

"I could never be his bodyguard," I muttered, "because the surprises will never stop coming. It's annoying. The second I feel like I'm understanding what's happening, something else comes to knock me over the head. I can't control myself, or my life. Not anymore."

"You'd think the all-powerful Gray One would control her own life," Dmitri mused, nudging me with his arm. I swatted him away, dangling my feet over the edge of the mountain. Fear of falling was nonexistent for me -- I had trust in the wings hidden in my back. I knew that if I did fall, they would be there to rescue me. My power would always be there to defend me.

But why?

Strange thought to have considering that's already been explained to me. Why I have this power makes sense now. So what am I still so confused about?

Why does it never fail, my mind echoed back at me. I glanced down at my hands, wondering why I couldn't fathom my power never breaking on me.

"You didn't have power before, right?" Dmitri suddenly asked. I nodded, still staring at my hands.

"Control may be hard," he continued, "but you're confused because you don't trust your power, not really. You trust it enough to save you, but you're expecting it to disappear one day. It's because you didn't grow up with it. Us Lightbloods grow up with our magic, and it grows alongside us. You never had that."

"And? Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Dmitri sighed.

"It won't abandon you, Cloud. Just know that."