34. Ella

Chapter 34

Ella

Ella could taste the excitement stitching through the air as they approached the Canterna Thicket. Before any of the students arrived, all the Cerebri instructors worked together to paint an illusion over the forest that shoved the trees back to create a wide breadth of open space, the enclosure bordered by metal bleachers for the totality of the school to sit on. Once the illusion washed over you, it manipulated the color of your shirt so you matched the shade of your team, Ella’s blouse transmogrifying from blue to red once she crossed over the entrance of the Canterna Thicket. Ella and Kellen assisted the other professors in marshaling the students, once they reached the forest and the illusion assigned them a team, onto the bleachers on their team’s designated side of the arena, splitting the student body into two rippling seas of red and gold. When Laya passed over the threshold and saw her color matched Ella’s, she squealed, yanking at Jarion’s arm.

Ella sent her a private wink of acknowledgement as the twins passed them on their way to find seats.

Who did you pick for rope burn? Ella asked Kellen for the seventh time since they’d left the teacher’s lounge. When she first asked him if he’d begun thinking about which students he would pick to be feeders and matches for rope burn, as rope burn coach, Kellen had replied that he already finalized his list of which students would be eligible in his eyes three weeks ago, not that he elected to tell her.

You can ask a million times, sweetheart, but you’ll get that answer with the rest of the school after Chop ends.

Kellen then barked out loud to a sophomore Pegasus-shifter, “Liam Huxley! I don’t care that she’s your girlfriend. If I see your hand between Luna’s legs one more time, I’m disuniting it from your body.” The sixteen-year-old Varmin boy’s hand retracted from under the female student’s skirt.

“S-Sorry, Mr. Kilic,” the boy stammered.

“You’ll be sorry if I ever have to repeat myself again.” Kellen pointed to the bleachers. “Go sit down with every other fucking student before I decide you don’t deserve to keep your hand and I take it anyway.”

As Liam scurried away with his head hanging, Kellen swung his eyes back to Ella and groaned, You have no idea how many times a day I have to tell that boy to stop touching his girlfriend.

Ella laughed, You’re one to talk, Mr. Kilic. Kellen’s eyes darkened.

I starved to be inside you for twelve weeks, Ms. Rose. His words were delineated by a ravenous growl. You bet your perfect ass, now that I’ve tasted what it’s like to be with you, I’m touching you every second I can. Ella blushed when Kellen’s hip lightly bumped hers for further emphasis.

She bumped his hip back just as Headmistress Dyer spilled into the center of the open space, the swarms of children flocking the bleachers on both sides springing to their feet with deafening roars.

“Who’s ready for Maccabiah?!” Headmistress Dyer hollered. The bleaches rattled from the students pounding their fists against the metal benches, the ether shaking along with the entire forest. “What was that?” Headmistress Dyer cupped her hand around her ear. “I can’t hear you. I said…who’s ready for MACCABIAH?” Clouds split apart and scattered into the trees from the force of the crowd’s cheers. Their energy was so infectious that Ella’s face erupted in an automatic smile. “There we go!” Dyer roared. “That sounds more like a school ready for break out! Seniors, start lining up for Chop!”

The first row on the bleachers, reserved for seniors on either side, lifted from the metal bench to begin forming a line. Oken Bennet was first on the Red Team’s side, decked out in titanium armor similar to what Eyal wore, though Oken’s breastplate was stained red due to the illusion’s influence.

Oken shifted on the balls of his feet, passing his sword from one hand to the other in a manner that told Ella he didn’t feel comfortable brandishing it in either hand. He suddenly squeaked, “Ms. Rose? Can you come here a moment?”

“Of course.” Ella hurried to stand at his side. “What do you need, Oken?”

“I’m scared.” Ella was stunned into silence for a moment. In all the time she’d been having her daily check-ins with Oken, since he refused to begin formal counseling with her, he’d struggled to name any of his emotions. The fact that he put a label on what he was feeling and shared it with her was huge progress. “What if I choke? What if Amira beats me and chops her solider first? Going first sets a precedent for the whole team. If I fuck up, I’m basically damning the rest of the team.”

“Let’s check the facts here. You’ve spent your entire time at Delmarth training for this. You’ve passed every single Power Practice class. You’re the most powerful strength-wielder in the school, and I’m not just saying that to stroke your ego. Don’t worry about what anyone else is doing. Lean into your strength, Oken. It’s gotten you this far and never failed you.” Oken’s brown eyes softened.

“Thanks, Ms. Rose.” He paused, then added, “For always being here, even when I act like I don’t appreciate it.” He folded his fingers around the hilt of his sword and sucked in a deep breath, spluttering it out in a refreshing sigh. “I think I’ve got this.”

“I think you do, too. Make us proud.”

Ella patted his shoulder, then dashed back to where Kellen was waiting by the end of the bleachers.

You’re amazing, Kellen gushed when she rejoined him.

In the center of the arena, two towering figures comprised of iron appeared on the asphalt, lacking any distinctive facial features apart from eyes glowing red with malice, flaunting gilded swords at their sides. Oken settled into a proper fighting stance, fingers curved around the hilt of his sword.

“Warriors, are you ready?” Headmistress Dyer called out from the sidelines. Amira, the female fighting for the Gold Team on the opposing side of the arena, bobbed her head in a nod. Oken followed shortly after. “Then I hereby decree that Maccabiah has officially broken out. Let Chop commence!”

Without any further hesitation, Oken charged towards the iron solider. The two legionnaires in the center of the arena separated from one another, one sprinting for Amira and the other heading for Oken. Ella’s focus couldn’t absorb both skirmishes at once, her attention latching onto Oken, Amira and her iron solider blearing into the backcloth. As Oken and the iron solider clashed, the sound of metal on metal reverberated through the forest, echoing off the trees, amalgamating with the hum of students screeching on the bleachers as they watched the two battles play out. Oken’s armor gleamed in the sunlight as he swiped his sword around the circumference of his head and swung it towards the iron soldier’s neck, a blow the solider deflected with smooth dexterity. Oken launched a second attack, gunning for the soldier’s ankles, but the solider cut him off from making contact by bringing their own sword down, slicing through the asphalt. The iron warrior retaliated with equal force, their blows raining down upon Oken like seething thunder, but Oken held his own, refusing to falter, meeting every counterattack. The two of them danced around one another, neither of them willing to give an inch.

“Come on, Oken!” Ella cried, the heat of the battle feeding her anxiety.

Behind them, Amira, a Meteoro fire-bender, was still engaging her iron solider, flames encompassing the tendrils of her hair, saturating her clothes. However, she didn’t seem to be using the fire at her fingertips, relying simply on the blade in her hand to strike at the iron solider.

Why isn’t she using the fire to melt the iron? Ella asked Kellen.

She’d get a penalty for melting the solider, Kellen said, his eyes glued to Oken and Amira. Power usage is prohibited during Chop. Amira and Oken need to cut the solider with their swords. Chop is a test of strength separate from powers, especially for the Primordials whose abilities don’t include strength as an additional gift. Powers are useful in battle, but you need to be able to hold your own without them, should you, for whatever reason, end up in a battle where you can’t access them.

Ella knew Oken well enough at this point to feel his rage in the air like the emotion had been congealed into a tangible, flaming object mugging up the ether. His grip on the hilt of his blade tautened in accompaniment of the hardening of his facial features and the narrowing of his wrath-filled eyes. With a burst of energy, Oken mustered all his strength and delivered a powerful blow to the iron soldier’s chest. A collective gasp resounded from behind Ella as everyone on the Red Team stood in unison to tip forward and get a closer look. Ella’s hand flew to grab Kellen’s arm.

He’s going to make contact! Ella hoped.

The blade’s not deep enough, Kellen hissed with a shake of his head. He’ll scratch the solider, but he needs to push harder to cut through. Aloud, Kellen yelled, “Come on, Oken! More!”

The iron solider staggered back, red eyes flickering. Kellen’s conjecture was corroborated when Oken’s blade skimmed the surface of the iron soldier’s chest but didn’t sink deep enough to break through. However, Oken took advantage of the close proximity and the iron soldier’s falter of movement to slam his elbow into the warrior’s face, then spun on his heel and reeled his blade downward to plunge the dagger into the iron chest. Ella shrieked so loud it scratched her throat.

“YES!” she hollered, her fingers burrowing into Kellen’s arm.

“He needs to make a full cut,” Kellen muttered to himself, yelling, “DRAG THE BLADE TO THE SIDE, OKEN!”

Screams exploded from behind them. “CHOP! CHOP! CHOP!” a chant began, sweeping across the chain of students.

The iron solider didn’t fold over with the blade embedded in his chest, but began writhing around the sword and clawing at Oken’s forearm to dislodge the rapier. Oken either heard what Kellen said or came to that decision on his own and rallied all his strength to pull the sword to the side, lacerating through the metal and carving a line across the soldier’s chest. When the sword successfully completed the stretch of the warrior’s sternum and reunited with the world on the other side, the ripple effect of his weapon being freed from inside the warrior flung Oken backward, sending him flying across the asphalt and landing him close to where Ella and Kellen were standing. Oken watched with the rest of the school as the iron warrior crumpled to the ground and melted into a puddle of gilded liquid. Ella’s eyes rose to where Amira was still engaging her iron soldier.

The chime of a victorious bell rang from the earth itself. Above them, a flash of red light detonated over the heads of the students on the bleachers, signaling a win for the Red Team, the strings of students behind them bursting with triumphant screams to celebrate Oken’s victory. Headmistress Dyer scribbled something on her clipboard, then signaled for Oken to retreat so the next student, Lorelai Bepton, could step forward.

“You did it!” Ella cried as Oken ran right to her, proffering a high five that he accepted with a laugh.

“Thank you,” Oken said with tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Good job, Oak,” Kellen prided, clapping Oken on the back before guiding him over to stand at Headmistress Dyer’s side, where all the winners of each of the skirmishes were expected to stand for the remainder of Chop.

“This is so intense!” Ella yelled to Kellen, waving her hands under her armpits. “I’m sweating so much!”

“Wait until you get to rope burn,” he said with a gleaming smile.

While Amira continued battling her iron soldier on the other side of the arena, the puddle that once comprised Oken’s warrior began lengthening upward, reconfiguring itself back into the shape of arms and legs until it was coagulated once more into a sentient warrior. No time was wasted before Lorelei stampeded forward and began her combat with the iron soldier. Across the way, Amira successfully trounced her opponent, beheading her iron soldier in one fell swoop, flames trickling down her face like teardrops. The bell tolled to concede to her a victory, and she sprinted to flank Headmistress Dyer as the next student on the Gold Team stepped forward for their battle.

The pace of the battles began picking up speed after Amira finished her clash. Ella understood now why Oken had said winning the first round set a precedent for the rest of the battles. One by one, the seniors on both teams devoured their rounds, the clang of the bell going off every two minutes with the acceleration of speed. The Red Team remained in the lead for the majority of Chop, a string of seniors garbed in crimson unfurling from Headmistress Dyer’s left, almost grazing the end of the bleachers from how long the line extended. Thirty minutes into the event, the Gold Team began catching up to Red, their line outspreading on Dyer’s right to match the length of Red on her left, so in the end, each team was on equal footing and down to their last senior—Renera Zavala, a Herculea mender, fighting for Red, and Francesco Darino, a Cerebri, fighting for Gold.

The battlefield was a chaotic symphony of quarreling metal and roaring outcries from both Renera and Francesco, as well as the crowds watching, their names molded into hymns that enveloped the teams on either side, becoming the wind itself. Francesco fought with unwavering determination on his end, his movements swift and precise, whereas Renera’s blows were slightly less confident, though still fluid and graceful. Renera and the iron soldier were locked in a deadly dance of steel and fury, sweat mingled with dirt and blood smeared across Renera’s brow, tracing streaks down the side of her face.

“COME ON, RENERA!” Ella screeched at the top of her lungs. She’d needed to tie her hair back in a bun because having her hair in her face had become too distracting. Kellen stood beside her, a clenched statue of rippling muscle with rivulets of anxiety rolling off his shoulders, chewing his thumbnail. Ella was careful not to touch him now because she was afraid she would be shocked by the current of visible electricity gathered over his brown flesh, remnants of his power seeping through and blanketing his body in a protective shield.

Renera grew wearied and lost her footing, toppling to the ground at the same time Francesco blocked the iron soldier’s attack from across the way by spinning on his heel and hurling his body weight into the warrior from the side. Ella trapped a breath in her chest, her hand flying to her mouth while Kellen’s finger fell away from his lips, his eyes enlarging to a degree where his lashes fanned out over his eyebrows. They watched as Francesco bowled himself and the iron soldier so he now towered over the warrior and drove his sword through the steel, slender throat, hacking through the metal with a clean cut. The moment the head divided from the neck, the soldier Renera was engaging dissolved into a pool of deliquesced gilt, marking the end of Chop.

“Gold Team wins!” Headmistress Dyer declared.

The Gold Team leapt with joy, their harmonious, enthused movements fashioning an undulating wavelet of golden bliss. The Red Team drooped in unison like a wilting rose, their petals withering to the floor along with their disappointment as the students dropped back onto the metal bench and hung their heads in defeat.

“NO!” Ella shrieked, smacking Kellen’s arm because she needed to hit something and he was right there. “She was so close!”

“It’s just the first event of Maccabiah,” Kellen said as reassurance for both himself and Ella. “We’ve got the rest of the week to catch up.” He saw the way Ella was vibrating and laughed, “I knew you’d get as invested in Maccabiah as I do. Try and remember this is for the kids, yeah?”

“Hypocrite,” Ella spat while punching his bicep, a stunning laugh rumbling through his chest.

“Coming from the bastard who was biting off his own finger just now because he was so anxious,” Akio chuckled when he came to stand with them. Ella painted a friendly smile on her face, fighting against the pit in her stomach that screamed she still couldn’t fully trust Akio. “And the asshole who last year got banned from attending Apache because he landed three students in the infirmary during Sword Hunt.”

“Kellen!” Ella cried. “You didn’t tell me that!”

“I didn’t mean to land them in the infirmary!” Kellen promised her, glaring at Akio. “I just…may’ve lost control of my dragon fire a tiny bit.” Ella shook her head, but couldn’t fully subdue a smile.

“Rope burn coaches,” Headmistress Dyer hollered, raising a hand in the air to swaddle a blanket of silence over the rowdy crowds. “Come forward.”

“That’s my cue,” Kellen sang with pride. He winked at Ella. Watch me do what I do best, Rose.

Go win this for us, Kilic, she cheered.

All Ella could think as she watched him swagger to take his place at Dyer’s side was, that’s the love of my life right there.