The Elementals

“Wake up,”

A voice breaks through my dream. Currently, sleep is more important than the annoyed tone, so I roll over, smashing one ear into the pillow and covering the other with a somewhat scratchy blanket.

“Now,” the voice continues persistently, really ticked off.

“No,” I murmur, still half asleep. “I don’t wanna get up.”

I hear an irritated sigh. “That wasn’t a question.”

I hear a click and suddenly my bed is snapping in on itself. I’m sandwiched as the bed folds up, eating me and then toppling to the floor on its side.

“-heck was that for?” I snap, the first part of my sentence being muffled by the pillows in my face. I crawl out, pushing away the two parts with my hands.

“You’re late,” Owen snaps back at me.

“For what?”

“Training.” Owen turns heel and stalks away.

Having fallen asleep in my clothes, and not owning any others, I get up, rubbing my eyes and raking my fingers through my tangled hair, and follow Owen’s angry steps into a tunnel connecting the boat with some sort of room. I assume we’ve docked somewhere.

“What training?” I ask blearily, still waking up.

I stand stubbornly in place, waiting for an answer, but then Owen whips around, aiming a punch at my face.

“Hey!” I shout, ducking quickly, barely dodging the attack. “What is wrong-”

I don’t get to finish my sentence because Owen keeps moving, this time trying to sweep kick my legs. I leap up, having flashbacks to the jump roping days. I roll to the left, avoiding another assault, and dash away.

“Hello? What is happening?” I question, fully functioning now that someone has attempted to physically harm me.

“You’re being trained.” Owen says, “Now fight.”

“Your methods could use some work,” I inform him, again ducking under an attack. “Last time I checked you were supposed to actually teach the person something before going psycho on them.”

“Last time I checked, people were supposed to fight back,”

“Alright, I’ll fight back. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He charges, I crouch, rolling and spinning as I stand up. He whirls, and blocks my punch with one large hand. I’m surprised, because it was as hard as I could, but I try not to let it show and I kick out. The hit actually meets its mark this time, connecting with Owen’s side. It barely slows him down though and I have to dodge away again as the fight continues.

I don’t know how long this goes on -we still argue over who won. I’m proud to say Owen never got a hit in, not even once, but every blow I deliver is easily blocked. It’s basically like a bear trying to smack a gnat.

“Are you guys done yet?”

I jump, almost tripping but luckily I don’t. I would’ve never heard the end of that. Owen flinches too, like this is a normal thing for him but he still can’t get used to it. I turn to Audrey, ready for her to start randomly trying to kill me, but she just stands there passively, watching.

I look at Owen. He regards me like I’m a pest. “Yeah, we’re done.”

“Good,” Audrey says, smiling slightly, like she’s trying not to laugh. I don’t know why. “We have a new assignment.”

“But,” I say, pausing before following her into another hallway. “I haven’t had breakfast.”

“You’re not going.” Audrey states plainly.

“And you slept through it.” Owen mutters, farther ahead.

I make a face behind his back. As if he can see me, his pace quickens, and soon he’s out of earshot.

“Does he have to train me?” I ask, looking pleadingly up at Audrey. “Why can’t you? Or just not at all?”

She laughs quietly. “What? You don’t like him?” It’s more of a teasing question, like she knows the answer already.

“No!” I exclaim. “And he hates my guts.”

“Owen’s funny like that. He’s kind of opposite.” Audrey says, and then changes the subject. “You’re the only one who’s lasted more than five minutes against him.”

“Yeah, because he’s too big to catch up with me.” I snort, though a glimmer of pride sparks inside me.

“Actually no,” Audrey corrects me. “You just have faster reflexes than previously thought.”

“So I should train with you now?”

Audrey shakes her head. “Owen is the better fighter out of both of us. You’re stuck with him.” She pats me on the back, chuckling at my situation. “Or maybe he’s stuck with you.”

We walk into a room with a large table in the middle, and I see that all the others are already there. The mission is protecting some dirty rich government sponsor type, and Stella and Oh’Rian are sent. Mainly because they’re the most civilized out of all of us.

I weave my way through some more hallways and find a room with food. Sadly, Owen is there as well, but my hunger is too much. I don’t really even look at what I put on my plate, I just see food, and I eat it. I sit down next to him, trying to get on his nerves, and the next bite is speared with more annoyance than there was before.

I grin obnoxiously, now understanding why Coal does it so much. It ticks Owen off more than if I had just sat on the other end of the room and ignored him. I scarf down my food and then pause as Owen looks at me. Why are my eating habits always so carefully observed?

“I lived with thirty other hungry orphans,” I say defensively. “You learn to eat fast and to hoard whatever you can get.”

“Try having four older siblings,” He says drily.

“I’m sorry; did you not just hear the part about thirty orphans?”

“Be glad they’re not related to you.”

I sit there in shock for a second. “You’re kidding. That’s all I ever wanted. To have a family, to be normal.” I say kind of grudgingly. “Instead, I was found in the ocean, with no relatives, no nothing, and now I’m a kid with freakish powers that’s working for the government.”

“At least you’re different.” Owen replies bitterly. “You don’t have to feel like a shadow to everything they did. At least you felt special.”

“Oh,”

I had never really thought of it that way before. I swear the foam plate cracks as Owen stabs the fork ferociously into a piece of cornbread. I realize it sounded like I felt sorry for him, which I do a little, but he obviously hates it. I can see the small little hole into Owen’s life closing and I backpedal, trying a different approach.

“I wasn’t aware,” I say sarcastically. “That being a mutant weirdo was considered a privilege. My bad. I’ll be thankful that I can never have a regular life from now on.”

Owen snorts, but doesn’t say anything more. It’s okay though, because now there’s a crack in his shell that hasn’t been resealed.