chapter 15 labor pains

I release my magic, and a massive blue magic circle bursts to life in the sky, its intricate symbols glowing with raw energy. The air shifts as the temperature plummets, the overwhelming heat of the wildfire meeting an icy resistance. A heavy mist rolls outward, curling through the trees like ghostly tendrils.

With a flick of my wrist, water begins to pour from the glowing sigil above, cascading down in shimmering torrents. It isn't just rain—it's a flood, twisting and bending to my will. As the water surges downward, I guide it with precise movements, threading it through the air like a weaver spinning silk. The liquid snakes through the burning forest, wrapping around trees to smother the raging flames. The fire hisses and crackles in defiance, sending bursts of steam into the air as it fights against my magic.

Luca steps forward, raising his hands as his own power surges to life. A powerful gust of wind sweeps through the battlefield, swirling around the water like an invisible dance partner. His magic takes hold, spreading the cooling deluge further, ensuring that every ember is snuffed out. The wind and water move together in a synchronized storm, a perfect fusion of our abilities.

The fire roars in protest, its orange tongues licking at the sky, desperate to survive. But we refuse to let it win. Luca sends a spiraling gale that whips through the treetops, scattering the flames and allowing my water to rush in like an unstoppable tide. The earth beneath us trembles as charred branches collapse under the weight of the extinguishing flood.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the last ember dies with a final, angry hiss. A thick mist hangs in the air, the ground drenched and steaming from the battle between the elements. The once-raging inferno is now nothing more than smoldering wreckage, blackened trees standing like skeletons against the night sky.

Next, we turn toward Chris, who is still on a rampage.

"Luca!" I shout.

He nods, and together, we combine our magic, creating a spiraling water vortex. The cyclone of water and wind surges forward, twisting like a living creature. It slams into Chris with tremendous force, enveloping him in a crashing wave. His flames sputter out, steam billowing around him as he collapses among the debris, unconscious.

We stand over his body, huffing.

"He went down fairly easily," Luca says, sounding disappointed.

I shake my head. "Remember when we first merged with our stones? It takes a lot out of you."

"So, what do we do with him now?" he asks, clearly annoyed.

"We carry him back with us."

"I'm not carrying his ass," he mutters in defiance.

I frown at him. He meets my glare with air kisses and a teasing grin. Rolling my eyes, I pull Chris from the wreckage and place him on my back. To my surprise, I have no trouble carrying him. He's just tall, making him drape awkwardly over my body, which makes it hard to see.

We rush to the village, where we find the townspeople, along with Madison and the others, crowded together. They watched the whole scene unfold at the end of the road. Chatter fills the air, panic evident in every voice.

Madison rushes toward us, her face laced with extreme worry.

"What happened up there?" she asks, practically hyperventilating.

"Long story short, Sir Attitude here is the guardian we were looking for," Luca says, gesturing toward the unconscious boy on my back.

"He's a guardian?" she mutters, both shocked and displeased.

"And from what we saw from down here, the fire one," Mrs. Dean adds.

"So, now what?" I ask, already over the nonsense surrounding this town.

"We should head out as soon as possible," Mr. Stone says, pointing to the road leading out of the village. "One of the guards was rushing off on a horse. He was bloody and missing an arm. I'd hate for this to come back and bite us later." He grimaces.

"So we have to chase him down and what—kill him?" I ask, frowning.

Mr. Stone and Mrs. Dean look at me in silence. It's deafening. I get the message. It's just hard to believe that, at the tender age of eighteen, I'm already catching bodies. "How are we going to get back?" Madison asked.

"We will have to wait for a carriage," Mr. Stone said, frowning and rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

"By that time, our guy will be long gone, unfortunately," Luca said.

"I kinda have an idea," I said, cutting off their train of thought. "Luca, could you carry us back on a gust of wind?" I suggested.

He thought for a moment and then nodded. "I think so," he responded.

"Before we leave, we need to check the debris for our stuff," Mr. Stone reminded us. We headed back up.

The remains of what was once a wall greeted us. We spent about 20 to 30 minutes searching for our things, finally finding them spread out and thrown around the compound. After collecting everything, we gathered around Luca. With a swing of his hands, a powerful wind swept around us and lifted us into the air.

The wind carried us swiftly, soaring over the village in no time. What initially took a day by carriage only took a few hours by air. As we approached the farm where Crystal and her family lived, we saw a horrifying sight—the fields were engulfed in flames.

Luca lowered the cluster of wind we were riding down to the ground. Crystal sat in front of her burning house, staring blankly at the destruction.

"HEY!! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" Madison screamed as we dashed toward her.

She was in a daze, watching everything burn. Tears ran down her face as Madison began to heal the cuts on her arms.

"Dom, combo magic," Luca called out.

Both of our magic circles appeared in the sky. I added a second one, making it more water than wind. We bent our elements and pulled them out like a blanket over the house, then whipped it around to spread the water over the fields. Smoke filled the air as the fire was finally doused.

As soon as the flames went out, Crystal ran toward the house, screaming for her parents. Everyone chased after her, leaving me, once again, to carry Chris.

Her screams echoed from inside the house. When I entered, I found her on her knees, sobbing over the charred remains of her parents. They had been tied to chairs and burned alive.

Madison knelt beside her, trying to comfort her as she screamed in agony.

"I know you're in pain, but please tell us what happened," Mrs. Dean asked, her tone soft and careful.

Crystal couldn't stop crying long enough to answer. She clung to Madison, shaking as sobs wracked her body.

"I don't want to be rude, but we have to go—especially if we need to catch up to that man," I said, urgency creeping into my voice. Madison helps her up. "What do we do with her?"

We all look at each other.

"It's your call, Dominique," Mr. Stone says.

My eyes widen. I know he said I can make all the decisions, but actually carrying them out still shakes me up a bit.

"I guess bring her with us until she calms down and gives us information," I announce.

We gather outside, and I practically drop Chris on the ground with an exhausted huff.

"For a guy suffering from malnutrition, this bitch sure is freaking heavy," I groan, annoyed.

"Hang tight. We're on our way back," Mrs. Dean says, rubbing my back.

Luca creates a gust of wind, carrying us onward. Flying cuts our travel time in half, and we arrive back at the mansion in a day. We burst through the door and are met by the head butler and a group of maids who quickly tend to us.

Chris is taken to a room to rest, while Madison is asked to go in and try to heal his weakened muscles. Mrs. Dean takes Crystal to her room to watch over her. Mr. Stone leaves the mansion as soon as everyone is taken care of, and Luca and I retreat to our own rooms to rest.

The night makes everything that happened in the last fifteen hours seem like a fever dream. I glance over and find that Madison has sneaked in and fallen asleep beside me. I know she's just as worn out as I am.

I drift off again and hear a familiar voice telling me to call out to Ruby. This is the first time the voice has given me clear instructions.

I ask the voice who Ruby is, but, of course, I get no response. I toss and turn when suddenly, the man with the midnight blue eyes appears. Again, I can only see his eyes and silhouette. My body instinctively relaxes, and I fall into a deep, calming sleep.

I wake up to peaceful silence. Madison is still sleeping next to me, and honestly, I have no desire to wake her up or get out of bed. I lay there with my thoughts and drift back into sleep.

No one bothers us, so I assume everyone else is also sleeping through the day. When I finally wake up again, I pull out my phone and scroll for hours. Eventually, Madison stirs.

"Morning," she utters through a yawn, her eyes baggy like she didn't get enough rest.

"More like afternoon, but whatever," I tease.

"Whatcha doin'?" Her tone is soft as she cuddles up to me. "Just scrolling social media on Earth."

"Really? Let me see," she asks, but a light knock on the door interrupts us.

"Come in," I announce.

Luca peeks in and shuts the door behind him. "Hey, girls. You sleep well?"

We nod as he walks over to my other side. "Here, scooch over," he pleads. Once he gets comfortable, he leans in. "What are we doing?"

"Watching Dom scroll through something called social media."

"What's that?"

"It's pretty much a platform where people from all backgrounds can share anything and everything," I explain.

"Let's check out Clock That," I say, swiping to show off the For You page.

For the next few hours, the three of us sink into the bed, completely absorbed in the endless stream of videos. The warm afternoon light spills through the windows, casting a golden glow over the room. Madison snuggles into the blankets, resting her chin on my shoulder as she watches intently. Luca leans in closer, his expression shifting between fascination and amusement.

I show them everything—funny videos, travel vlogs, cooking tutorials. Madison bursts into laughter at a compilation of prank videos, clutching her stomach as she wipes away tears. Luca becomes fixated on DIY projects, murmuring, "That's actually kind of genius," as he watches someone build a hidden bookshelf door.

The best part, though, is the food videos. Each one is more mouthwatering than the last—cheesy pizzas stretching with every bite, steaming bowls of ramen, stacks of fluffy pancakes drenched in syrup. My stomach growls in protest, and Luca groans dramatically.

"Oh, come on, that's just cruel," he whines, rubbing his stomach.

"I can see how you guys can just sit for hours looking at these devices," he adds, still mesmerized by the endless scroll.

"Swiping is so addicting," he continues.

I smile and hand him my phone. "Wanna try?"

He grabs it so fast that I don't have time to think.

"I can't see now," Madison complains.

"Here, let's switch spots," I suggest to Luca.

We giggle as he rolls into the middle, and I take his place at the end. For a while, we simply enjoy the moment—laughing, sharing funny posts, and debating which Earth dessert looks the most delicious. The outside world feels distant, and for once, we're just three friends enjoying a lazy afternoon together.

The peaceful atmosphere is interrupted by another knock on the door.

A maid enters and bows. "Your presence is requested in the dining hall," she says before turning to leave.

"I guess it's time to confront the mess," I say, getting up.

"I wonder if Crystal was able to get any rest," Madison ponders, her expression filled with worry.

"Only one way to find out," Luca groans, hopping up.

The three of us head downstairs, where we find Mr. Stone, Mrs. Dean, Chris, and Crystal sitting at the dinner table, talking. We take seats in various spots around the table. I make sure not to sit next to Chris—I'm not in the mood to argue with him.

"You all look well-rested," Mrs. Dean says, trying to hide her yawns.

"More or less, yeah," I respond.

"So, we called you here to sort everything out," Mr. Stone starts. "Chris has already been informed about being a guardian and our mission."

"We also wanted you all to hear what Crystal has to say," Mrs. Dean adds, her tone soft and careful not to trigger her. The room fell silent, and all eyes darted to her. She took her time gathering her thoughts, rubbing her arms to calm herself.

"My name is Crystal Black. My parents and I, as you know, moved here from Cester," she said, her voice low and tired, possibly from crying all night.

"We used all our money and time to buy that land, and in just one night, it disappeared," she confessed through tears.

"What happened the night we found you?" Mr. Stone asked. She swallowed the lump in her throat and continued.

"A bloody man on a horse with one arm came. He demanded we give him all our money," she tearfully explained. "He said he needed it to pay for a healer, but he had a sword and was violent."

"My dad and he fought. My father managed to overpower him, but he took me hostage. He used binding magic to bind them to the chair, then forced me to show him where our safe was." She paused, covering her eyes as she retold her story.

Mrs. Dean got up and walked over to comfort her. They hugged as Crystal struggled to talk. We all remained quiet, and after some time passed, she wiped her tears and started again.

"I gave him all we had, then he dragged me outside and lit our house on fire. I screamed in horror, and in my grief, I made him explode," she confessed through her tears.

"What do you mean, made him explode?" Mr. Stone pressed.

"My magic aptitude is detonation," she explained. "By infusing various amounts of my magic onto any surface, I can cause things to explode."

"He exploded, and the blast caused the fields to catch fire as well," she added, seemingly finishing her story.

"Seems like the mystery of where he went is solved," Mrs. Dean said with a hint of relief in her tone. "Rumors have spread that the guardians are back, though, when I went to the guild," Mrs. Dean announced.

"So, our only concern right now is to find the remaining guardians and train the ones we have," I said, trying to get us organized.

"It would seem like that's the best course of action," Mr. Stone agreed with me.

"Now that we're done being emotional, can we get to training?" Chris blurted out, as if he had been subjected to torture.

I glared at him. What a jerk—he couldn't be considerate for a few damn minutes?

"I had a long night working on a few magical tools, so I won't be able to stay long to oversee your training," he confessed. "But you have your fellow guardians to help you train, as well as Mrs. Dean," Mr. Stone said, standing to leave.

"Rest well, Dad," Madison said, giving him a hug and waving him off. He kissed her forehead and left.

"Crystal, do you have any other family you can text?" I asked curiously.

"Text? What's that?" she asked, confused. I realized I had made a mistake—cell phones weren't a thing here.

"Sorry, I meant email," I uttered, just as confused.

"She means write a letter to," Luca said, stepping in on my behalf. "No, it was just me and my parents," she says, tearing up again. "Should we bring her to the church?" Madison inquires.

"NO! Please let me stay here with you!" she begs. "You all are the closest things to familiarity I have now," she pleads.
"We can't let you do that; there are some dangerous individuals after us," I protest.
"Are you talking about that creepy space clown?" Chris interrupts, his tone confident. I fold my arms and glance at him.
"The very one. What do you know about him?" I ask.
"Doctor Stone filled me in. I'm not trying to be friends; I'm just trying to get stronger."
"And if taking him out like the stepping stone he is helps, then so be it," he says, and the room falls silent.
"Do you go out of your way to be an ass, or are you just naturally one?" I yell in annoyance.
Chris sneers, looking me up and down. "What's the matter, princess? Feel like you're being left out?"
"Don't try to talk to me like that," I snap, stepping forward. "I'm not here to take orders from some arrogant prick with a god complex."
Chris scoffs. "You think you're tough? Maybe you should stick to what you know best—sitting in the corner and looking pretty."
"I don't have time for your misogynistic bullshit, Chris," I retort, seething. "Maybe if you weren't so busy thinking with your ego, you'd actually learn something."
"Learn what? That some little girl's got a temper? Maybe try getting through one fight without crying for help," he mocks.
The anger in me flares up, but Mrs. Dean steps between us. "Enough. This isn't the time for your petty squabbles."
"Seems you've got a lot of pent-up energy. Let's go burn it off," Mrs. Dean says, trying to deescalate the situation.
We head to the basement. Madison and Crystal sit by the wall, while Luca, Chris, and I stand in the middle of the room. Mrs. Dean digs through the bag Mr. Stone left down there, pulling out ten robots and activating them.
"Spatial magic: artificial room!" she shouts. The room gets cloaked in a digital blanket, separating the real room from the fake one.
The robots spring to life.
"Hang on, you two. Let's let Chris try it on his own, okay?" Mrs. Dean asks. We shrug and move to the sideline.
"It's better this way," Chris says, cracking his knuckles. He glances at me with an unemotional expression. "Don't have the time or patience to protect damsels."
I grip my knees hard, trying to control my anger. I feel Luca's hand rubbing my back to comfort me.
"Okay, I'm setting their level to one," Mrs. Dean announces.
Chris frowns, clearly not happy about the weak settings of the bots.
"You're wet behind the ears, unlike your peers. You need to work your way up," she scolds.
He relents and takes up an awkward battle stance as the bots rush him.
"Remember, allow the magic to flow through your veins and send your magic to either your hands or feet," she instructs. He didn't even hesitate. Two small, glowing red magic circles materialized on his palms, crackling with energy. In an instant, fire shot out, streaking through the air like a pair of blazing arrows. The flames hit their targets, blasting two of the bots. The remaining bots quickly closed in, swarming over him like a tide of metal, pinning him to the ground. His muscles tensed as he gritted his teeth in frustration. His eyes flared with a fierce red glow, and with a primal roar, he forced all his anger into a single, explosive burst. A pillar of searing fire erupted from his chest, blasting the bots backward, sending them flying in all directions with a deafening crackle.

He collapsed to his knees, panting heavily. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, the exertion leaving him drained despite the brief outburst of power.

"Looks like that might be too much for you starting off," Luca teased, a smirk on his face. His words stung, and the tension in the air thickened. The frustration flickered in his eyes as he grimaced at the jab, but he forced himself to stand, sweat dripping from his forehead. His posture straightened, and with an exhausted but determined breath, he declared, "From this day forward, I won't allow my enemies to force me to my knees."

I rolled my eyes and turned away. "Dramatic ass," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head at his theatrics.

"Would you two like to try?" Mrs. Dean asked, her gaze shifting toward us. I stood up, feeling a little drained from watching the intensity. "No thanks, I'm going to rest today," I said, already moving toward the door.

"I'm good also," Luca replied, falling in step behind me.

"Wait for me, you two!" Madison yelled, her voice sharp with impatience. She sprinted to catch up and paused just before the door, glancing back with a concerned look. "Crystal, did you want to go rest?" she asked, her tone sweet and caring. However, Crystal didn't respond. She was lost in a trance, her eyes fixed on Chris. She hugged her knees to her chest, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her thoughts far away, contemplating the scene before her.

"No, I'm okay. I'll stay here and watch him," Crystal whispered, her voice barely audible. Madison glanced at her for a moment, a puzzled look on her face, before hurrying after us.

"I'm going to adjust them to level two now, okay?" Mrs. Dean announced with a professional tone, her hand already reaching to activate the next phase. Chris, still catching his breath, shook his head and dropped into a fighting stance, his fists clenched tight.

"Remember to concentrate on the flow of your magic," Mrs. Dean reminded him patiently, her voice carrying a note of experience.

"I get it already. Just start," he groaned, his impatience clear. Mrs. Dean sighed and pressed a button, activating the bots once again. This time, they moved with more purpose—slower but more strategic. They spread out, anticipating his next move.

Chris reacted instantly, diving to the side to avoid being overwhelmed. He continued to circle the bots, never staying in one place for too long. His eyes scanned the movements of his opponents, calculating every angle. He raised his hand, summoning a small red magic circle. The air around him crackled with heat, and fire shot out in a concentrated burst. The flames engulfed two of the ten bots, reducing them to scorched scraps of metal. The remaining bots spread out, closing in on him from all sides. Chris's heart raced as the pressure mounted.

With a sharp intake of breath, he assessed the situation—three bots lunged at him from the front, while the other five rushed in from the sides. Every muscle in his body tensed as he prepared for the next strike. He placed his hands out in front of him, his eyes glowing a crimson red. Suddenly, flames shot out of the magic circle on the ground, blasting them all to smithereens.

"There, I did it," he huffed.

"Not bad for your first training," Mrs. Dean said, clapping in approval.

"I want to get to a higher level than two. When will the robots be repaired?" he asked impatiently.

She shrugged. "That's a question for Doctor Stone, not me. He's the one who made them," she informed him.

"Fine, how about I go a few rounds with the other guardians?" he said, cockily.

She dismissed his arrogance and started heading toward the door. "Maybe tomorrow if they're up for it," she said. "Don't neglect rest," she mentioned as she left.

Crystal walked over to him, her steps hesitant as she shyly handed him a towel. Her fingers brushed against his briefly, causing her heart to race. "You did well. What was your name again?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

He took the towel and wiped the sweat off his face without looking at her. "Chris... and yours?"

"It's Crystal. Hm, Crystal Black," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She watched him closely, her gaze lingering on him.

He chuckled, causing her face to flush with embarrassment. "Might I ask what's so funny?" she questioned cautiously, hoping to make him notice her.

"Nothing. It's just that your name is more feminine than hers," he scoffed, walking away without giving her another glance.

Her cheeks burned with confusion and a slight sting of rejection. She followed him, trying to make sense of his words. "Whose name?" she asked, her voice a little less steady now.

He ignored her completely, uninterested in her presence, his gaze focused ahead as if she wasn't even there.

"Where are you going?" she asked shyly, her voice soft, hoping he might engage with her.

"To get some food. I need to build muscle mass if I want to fight better," he responded flatly, his tone distant and uninterested.

"Oh, if you want, I can cook you something," she suggested eagerly, her eyes bright with hope, a hint of excitement in her voice.

"There are maids here for that. Why would I ask you?" he replied dismissively, his frown deepening as he brushed off her offer.

She faltered for a moment, but then looked at him with determination. "My dad had this recipe he used to make me when I had a hard time gaining weight," she explained, her cheeks still pink from his earlier remark. "After a few weeks of eating it, I gained 40 pounds. I could make it if you want?"

He stopped walking abruptly and turned to her, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "This is how a woman should act. You'll make a decent wife to someone," he said, his tone low as he turned and started walking again.

Crystal stood frozen for a moment, She hadn't expected that kind of response. She quickly caught up with him, walking just a little too close as she tried to keep her composure. Her cheeks burned as she forced herself to keep up with his pace.

Despite his uninterested attitude, a small part of her was still drawn to him—though she wasn't sure if he would ever see her as anything more than a nuisance. "What you said back there reminded me of my father."

"Which was?" he asked, his voice flat and distant, barely making eye contact. His posture slouched as he leaned back in the chair, clearly uninterested.
"When you vowed not to kneel again. My dad said something similar when we escaped our old living conditions."
"He vowed that he wouldn't allow himself or his family to be stepped on anymore," she smiled, her eyes bright as she recalled the memory.
"Seemed like a good man."
"He was," she replied with a soft smile, but it quickly faded as she focused on his indifferent expression. "Wait at the table while I whip up your meal," she asked sweetly, hoping for a little connection. He gave a slight nod, almost robotic, and walked away without another word.

Crystal rushed to the kitchen, her heart fluttering with nerves as she prepared his meal. She worked quickly, hoping it would be perfect. After an hour, she returned, plate in hand, and set it in front of him. Chris didn't even glance at the food as she placed it down, his gaze fixed somewhere distant, as if the meal was just another part of the background. She watched him closely, waiting for his reaction.

With slow, deliberate movements, he picked up the spoon, dipped it into the food, and brought it to his mouth. His face remained as impassive as ever, his eyes cold and distant, showing no curiosity or warmth. He chewed mechanically, the food slipping past his lips without any indication of flavor or satisfaction. It was as if he was simply going through the motions, consuming the meal because it was expected, not because he cared.

"Ah, I mean, how is it?" she asked nervously, her voice wavering as she watched him. Her chest tightened, hoping for a hint of approval or at least something that might suggest he noticed the effort she'd put into it.

Chris swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment, his expression unchanged. He set the spoon down with an almost dismissive air, looking at her for the first time since he started eating.
"It's fine," he said, his tone still flat, almost as if the words were an obligation rather than a genuine response. His eyes returned to the plate, uninterested, as he picked up the fork.

Her face fell in disappointment, her smile faltering as she tried not to let it show. "Oh, okay," she mumbled, her voice soft and deflated, as she fought the sting of rejection. She sat next to him, making small talk to fill the silence, but it felt hollow as he continued eating without so much as a flicker of emotion.

When he finished, he pushed the plate away and stood up without a word.
"Thanks for the meal," he said, his voice impersonal, before turning and walking toward the door.

"Ah, wait. Where are you going?" Crystal asked in a panic, her voice rising slightly, the loneliness she felt in his presence suddenly overwhelming her.

Chris sighed, a long, drawn-out exhale, and without turning back, he muttered,
"To bed."

Before she could respond, he was already gone, leaving her sitting there alone with the remnants of the meal, the silence heavier than ever.