CHAPTER EIGHT

Training

The next day, Baylyn got up before Fletcher, deciding to let him sleep in as he got ready for guard training. But just as he was about to leave, Fletcher woke up.

"Where are you going?"

"Training grounds."

Fletcher was curious. He had never been to a training ground, had only ever been taught by his father. Orion's way of teaching was brutal and tedious, but Fletcher was quick-witted, and so being a lot smaller than his father, he had learned to outsmart him rather than overpower him. But he wanted a new opponent to spar with.

"Can I come?" he asked, hopping out of bed.

"If you can get ready in five minutes," said Baylyn.

Fletcher wasted no time. He had already started putting on his gear.

"Try two," he said, opening the door.

They walked, Baylyn grabbing two slices of bread from the kitchen on the way out.

"Breakfast, in case you forgot," said Baylyn holding one of them out to Fletcher.

Fletcher took the bread, taking a bite as he walked. This was so much better than the bread from his village. While that bread was only made to be edible, this bread tasted like it was infused with happiness.

Baylyn was amused.

"What? Have you never had bread before?"

"Whatever they were baking in my village doesn't even deserve to count as bread."

Baylyn chuckled. He was grateful to see Fletcher happy after the events of last night.

The training grounds were small. Just some barracks and five circular, sandy pits for sparring. Some of the guards had started sparring already, using wooden swords while their teacher watched. Despite the lack of size, Fletcher was amazed. He was just like a kid visiting a museum, eager to examine everything the place had to offer. His enthusiasm was cut short by a dragon over twice his size.

"Since when was it 'bring your pet to work day?'" he said to Baylyn, avoiding Fletcher entirely.

"I'm sorry, were you talking about yourself? Because the only mutt I see here is you," said Baylyn, narrowing his eyes.

"If he's not a pet, then prove it."

"Is that a challenge?" asked Fletcher, determined to prove that he belonged here.

"Wait, Fletch, you don't understand-"

"I know what I'm doing, Baylyn," he said through gritted teeth.

He was angry that everyone underestimated him, that no one saw past the scrawny teenager. He was an adult, and he wasn't stupid, no matter how much he was mistaken to be.

"Hey, cap! Me and the pet are next."

"My name is Fletcher, not 'pet'. And if you were smarter than a dog, you would know that."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm only calling you that if you manage to beat me, which I know you won't," said the mutt.

Fletcher turned to Baylyn, who looked horrified.

"That's Renner. Fletch, he has never lost a fight. He breaks people's limbs and scratches them with his claws. He plays so dirty I'm convinced he doesn't know how to play fair, and you just picked a fight with him?"

"Baylyn, you called him a mutt. I thought it might be fun to teach him a lesson. Don't worry, he's like the size of my father and we used to spar all the time."

"Okay, yeah," he said sitting on one of the benches around the sand. But he was still unsure.

Fletcher and Renner got into position, circling the arena like hawks, watching each other's every move. Fletcher guessed that Renner was half as observant as him. Renner attacked first, swinging his sword over his head and out in front of him. Fletcher blocked it, planting his feet in the sand to maintain his footing as he took the force of the sword. The rest of the guards cheered. Next, Fletcher started attacking in small, quick attacks, hoping to catch Renner off guard. He noticed that Renner was weaker on his left side, loosening his grip slightly to handle his sword. It wasn't much, but it was just enough for Fletcher to sweep his sword closer to the handle and push on it, forcing Renner's sword to clatter to the ground. He then swept his sword swiftly at Renner's boots, causing him to fall backwards. Finally, Fletcher stood over Renner with his sword at his throat. Now this was a show.

"How's that for a pet?"

The guards went wild. Baylyn looked out from between his fingers, almost surprised to see Fletcher standing over Renner, unscathed. Not only that but he had managed to disarm him? Fletcher dropped his sword and walked away, earning a couple pats on the back from the other guards. If only his own village could see how strong he really was.

"That was amazing!" said Baylyn, getting up from his seat.

"Why do you think I know how to do that?" says Fletcher, grabbing his canteen from his bag. "Wanna spar?"

Baylyn looked at him with wide eyes. He wanted to spar with Baylyn after... that?

"Oh... no, I mean, I can go easy on you. Maybe teach you a few things? I usually don't even try that hard, I just wanted to see that guy fall on his ass."

Baylyn laughed.

"Actually, I was hoping maybe you could give me some pointers on archery? I'm awful at it."

"Yeah, sure," said Fletcher.

They grabbed a bow each from the weaponry and set out

for the targets.

"Show me your stance," said Fletcher.

Baylyn did as Fletcher asked, putting his feet into position and notching an arrow in his bow.

"You're holding it completely wrong. You're making it harder on yourself to aim. You want your hand to align with your elbow."

Fletcher then stepped closer to Baylyn to attempt to adjust his position. That's when Baylyn lost control of his magic, heating his hands to a scorching temperature.

"AH!" shouted Fletcher, backing off instantly.

"Oh shit! Fletch, I didn't mean to. I don't know what happened!"

"It's fine. I'm fine. It just burnt a little."

Fletcher's hand was now starting to blister where he touched Baylyn.

"A little!? You need to go to the infirmary. I'll walk with you."

He started walking, Fletcher trailing behind.

"Can't you just... heal me? Like earlier?"

Baylyn looked at the ground.

"Um... no? I can't fix my own magic, remember?" he lied, too scared to admit that Fletcher caused this to a certain extent.

"... right," said Fletcher, slightly confused as to how this had anything to do with a continuous fire.

But then again, he still didn't completely understand how magic worked. He decided to brush it off. Why would Baylyn lie to him right now?

When they got to the infirmary, Baylyn left immediately, saying, "I need a minute."

Fletcher wondered why he was in such a rush to leave. Right away, The nurse got a bucket of ice from a cooler and told Fletcher to put his hand in it. It burnt worse than the initial burn. Fletcher winced.

"You guys get into a fight?" asked the nurse, concerned.

"Oh no. It's not like that. It was an accident."

"From Baylyn?" she says, raising her eyebrow.

"Has he ever done that on purpose?"

"No. He's just never done that... period. He graduated from the school of magic at the top of his class. He almost never made a mistake. It's just... unlike him."

Fletcher pondered that for a moment. 'Unlike him.' What was different about now?Was it Him? Fletcher blushed. Clearly Baylyn had lost control because of him. How had it taken him so long to realize? No wonder he had left the infirmary so fast. The nurse took his hands out of the ice and waved her hands over his. Her magic glowed green as his hands were healed.

"Good as new. My name is Sylvia by the way. If you ever need anything; physical healing, mental healing, relationship advice," she said with a wink, " feel free to stop by."

Fletcher didn't want to talk about it. He gathered his things and rushed out of the room.

"Thanks," he said, slamming the door behind him.

He had no time for goodbyes. He had to find Baylyn.

Sol was the first person he saw when he ran out of the infirmary.

"Sol! Have you seen Baylyn? I need to talk to him."

It seemed like Sol didn't have his notebook with him, but he nodded and waved for Fletcher to follow him. He gave Fletcher a look so as to say, "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay."

Fletcher didn't elaborate. He wasn't sure what secrets he could trust Sol to keep. Not that he wanted to hide like he did in Flint, but he wasn't used to trusting people. And who was to say that Ignis was that much different in their views? Like Baylyn, he was also scared of losing control, and so he kept it by keeping the secrets that made him who he was. Letting go of those secrets was like unraveling a spider web string by string. He had woven them tight and letting go would splay them out for everyone to see. That he wasn't ready for.

Sol led him all the way to the entrance of the forest. He spotted Baylyn facing away from them, sitting on a log with his hands clasped together.

"Thanks," he said to Sol.

Sol nodded and waved, walking away to give them space.

Fletcher walked up in front of where Baylyn was sitting. "Hey... can I sit here?" he said, nodding at the spot next to Baylyn.

Baylyn was surprised. He didn't expect Fletcher to come looking for him. He supposed Fletcher was like a puppy in that way, always finding its way back to its human. Ironic. Baylyn was the human in that scenario.

"Sure," said Baylyn, looking up at Fletcher.

When Fletcher sat down, Baylyn scooted further towards the edge of the log, scared of being too close to the boy he had just burned.

"I don't lose control. I never lose control. It's messing with me, Fletch," he says, looking at a tree in the distance.

Fletcher didn't know what to say. He knew exactly how Baylyn felt. He had felt that way for so long that he himself had no idea how to let go. They both sat in silence for a while, the words eluding them.

Finally, Fletcher broke it. "No one is perfect, Baylyn. I couldn't take control over my emotions last night. I created a fucking rain storm!"

Baylyn laughed at that. "I'm scared of hurting you."

"Didn't you say that if you pour intention into your magic it does what you tell it to?"

Baylyn nodded.

"Then tell it not to hurt me. Put up a barrier. Baylyn, I'm not scared of you," he said softly, scooting closer to Baylyn.

Baylyn scooted close enough to lean his head on Fletcher's shoulder, remaining silent and keeping his hands in his lap. They stayed there for a while, as if the whole world existed on that log and stepping off of it would mean stepping off the edge, never to be seen again. Sometimes that was what it felt like to Fletcher. To him, it would be the end of the world if he were to lose the people that were most important to him.

Eventually, Fletcher heard footsteps behind them. He immediately got up. It was Jude.

"Hey lovebirds! The captain's been looking for you, Baylyn. You need to stop losing track of time. He said you could have a ten minute break."

"No... we weren't–" said Fletcher, before getting cut off by Jude.

"Yeah yeah, I don't really care. Just talk to the Captain," he said, waving his hand and walking away.

"Ignore him. He's a dick. But I do have to go."

"Right," said Fletcher, holding out his hand to pull Baylyn up.

Instead of taking it, Baylyn got up by himself, saying, "What makes you think I need help?"

Fletcher laughed.

Neither of them said anything on the way to the guard station. But this time, the silence was comfortable, a kind of comfort that Fletcher had never felt with anyone else. 

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A/n: Once again I wanted to thank you for making it all the way to this chapter. This is the end of the bingeable chapters as I aim to do weekly uploads now. I wanted to upload these for the eight chapter challenge and I had them ready so hopefully you were pleasantly surprised by the surplus of chapters. Also let me know if you dreaded the book and still read this far. The only thing I ask is why?