He saw a man, nearly six feet, maybe an inch short, wearing a fully covered black suit. Nova struggled to get up and saw the man motioning for Nova to stay down, urging him with his contorted face to stay put, as a group of four nurses rushed into view, assisting Nova first.
They used their healing abilities to extend the cells in his body, to cover the hole, ensuring that there would be no further bleeding, as another nurse, a specialist in her field, used her power to examine for anything and everything, healing all internal wounds, removing all forms of diseases, purifying his body back to its original state.
The leader didn’t like how they were treating Nova first, throwing his tantrums, reminding the man who was ascending down the staircase who his family was, and how powerful they were.
"Treat first, woman. I’m royalty, unlike this fucking peasant." Turning his gaze towards the man, "Do you even know who I am? Or what my father could do if I tell him."
The man finally descended the stairs, coming to the boy with a slightly furious face, as if annoyed with all the yapping. "I don’t care who your father is," he said, his voice low and cold. "I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what your family can do. What I care about is my guild, my employees, and protecting the civilians of this country. Do you understand?"
The boy gulped, his narcissistic behavior sucked out of him. He gulped again, even more scared, as it took a second for his brain to comprehend the situation.
The man spoke up again, his voice diligent and deliberate: "As the Vice President of the guild, I hereby—"
Nova spoke up, knowing what was going to happen next: "Wait," he said, his voice urgent. "Don’t banish him. We still have a bet to be settled, and why not do it during the tournant, since I overheard him speaking about it."
"You intrigue , boy," the man said, a smile flowering at his lips. "Very well. I’ll honor your settlent." Then, turning his gaze towards the boy, "You have a chance to not be banished from the guild if you beco one of the selected contestants in tomorrow’s tournant. And, I’ll see to it that the tournant goes live. Because it’s about to be spectacular."
The boys’ minions picked him up and rushed him outside the guild, humiliated by how he was nearly defeated by an awakened human. Just before going out of view, the boy looked at Nova with anger, anger filled with hatred and revenge. He was so furious that he could pop like a balloon in front of everyone.
The shy glasses boy followed, but Nova stopped him. "Wait," he said. The glasses boy stopped, as if receiving an order. "Stay. You don’t have to follow them. They don’t own you. You’re a human."
Nova had learned how to be a mortal human, better than so mortal humans themselves. He got up as all his wounds and soreness faded away. He felt more refreshed than when he arrived at the guild. He thanked the nurses as they faded from his view, going back to the infirmary.
"Join ," he looked at Nova and the glasses boy. "Both of you. I want to speak to you." Then, as they followed him, he asked them: "Are you signed up for the tournant?"
Nova was dumbfounded by the question, as he thought that he just needed to show up to be in the tournant. The glasses boy nodded his head side-to-side. The man sighed and followed him down the stairs to the receptionist, who was insulted.
"Sign these two up," the man said to the girl.
Then the two stepped forward, and the girl asked the glasses boy first: "Please tell your na and email address. We will tell you when the results are up."
The glasses boy gave his na, voice dull, his face dull, everything dull: "A-Adam Taylor." Then he gave his email address. Stuttering as much.
Then she looked at Nova, blushing slightly and gulping at the sight of him. She imagined them on their private beach, cuddling, and having sex. The man snapped his fingers, which brought the girl back to life, snapping her from her fantasies.
Nova then said, a little confused: "My na is Nova. Just na. I don’t have an email address. Only a phone number from this old phone." He showed her his phone.
"That’s fine, et two days after the tournant, both of you. Exactly at noon." The man said.
After entering his phone number as well, the two followed the man to the elevators, as he realized that his office was on the fortieth floor. Only the three of them were in the elevator.
Silence deafened the enclosed space.
Then the man spoke up, dropping his formal tone and loosening up his tie: "I’m so fucking tired. This tie makes want to kill myself. It’s so tight." Then, saying his na as he chuckled: "Oh yeah, my na is Marcus, and I’m the Vice President of the Arican Guild."
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chi, revealing the fortieth floor, which was just Marcus’s office, with his assistant out in front. She had a stack of papers she had to go through, but didn’t rush, as if she could take her ti with it.
Her desk was very organized, everything in its place, nothing out of proportion.
Then they stepped into Marcus’s office, which was like stepping into the exotic den of an exotic predator, lavish yet understated. It was the type of luxury that didn’t scream attention but commanded it at the sa ti. The floor was a polished dark wood, its polish so deep it reflected their silhouettes. A massive window spanned the far wall, framing the city below like a painting, sunlight pouring in like liquid gold.
The furniture was minimal but masterfully crafted. The air carried the faint scent of sandalwood and leather, grounding the lavishness in a warm confidence.
Reviews
All reviews (0)