Telepath?

The sun was blindingly annoying and needlessly blistering. It was at a degree that caused Mordeu's body to release fluids from the pores on his skin. His hair was held up high in a short ponytail just because of the radiation from the sun. It could have been the new clothes he was wearing that resulted in this sudden discomfort, but surely the blame can sit nowhere but on the sun. The new clothes he was wearing were the uniform assigned to each person; A simple, yet classy combat outfit that made Mordeu grimace because of the undeniable similarity it possessed to the attire he had seen on Kai. He was without a weapon, not like he needed one, and only the elves, the witches, the vampires, and Cillian had weapons glued to their outfits.

Despite the palpable discomfort the sun was causing him, Mordeu showed no sign whatsoever of being affected, save for the sweat, of course. However, not once did he bring his sleeve up to wipe his face clean of the liquid. Rather, he allowed it to soak through into his clothes, into his eyes, disregarding the fact that a foul smell would be generated later.

All he did was stand there, staring at a particular place: under the tree.

"How did everything go yesterday?" Fjall appeared beside him.

And only then did Mordeu rub his eyes to quell the stinging pain the salty sweat caused.

"Yesterday?" Mordeu inquired, shaking his head, having not the faintest clue what his brother was referring to.

"Yes, didn't you go to protect the Alvitir's boy?" Fjall chose to clarify.

"Oh," Mordeu seemed lost, "it went well. You were right, he is very boring." He finished rubbing his eyes and glued his eyes back to the tree.

Fjall nodded his head, "then why have you been staring at him as if he is the most interesting person here?"

'Here' was the top of another mountain. All the trainees had been called out for the first event of the camp at first light. The mountaintop was undeniably crowded with the four different creatures. However, Mordeu's gaze was locked on a particular place, or rather, person.

Cillian was dressed in white attire as usual. Other than the color, there was no incongruity between Cillian's outfit and Mordeu's. And just like Mordeu's, Cillian's outfit was glued to his body sensually, making him appear more manly and equivalently physically built. His white shaggy hair stayed perfectly in place, and unlike everyone else, his skin was reluctant to be coated with the salty liquid.

He stood under a tree, his eyebrows creased together in a frown watching the trainers set up all they needed to.

"Have I been staring at him?" Mordeu peeled his eyes away almost instantly, gifting Fjall all his attention. "You're assuming things. Did you take something weird?" He examined his brother by lifting his chin and scrutinizing his appearance.

Fjall frowned and swatted his hand away from his chin, "I'm just stating the obvious; I saw you glaring at him. Did he make you angry?"

Did Cillian make him angry?

Thinking back to last night and how perfectly comely the moonlight had been, how melodious the conversations sounded in the ears, Mordeu came to the realization that no doubt he had been the one who must've gotten Cillian angry. Why else would the man just suddenly turn around and leave?

His only reservation regarding this was that Cillian had not informed him of the reason he was suddenly displeased; he must somehow have expected that Mordeu would just know.

Well, he wasn't a telepath.

In sudden indignation, he darted his eyes away from the white-haired boy.

"Nobody made me angry." His expression said otherwise.

Fjall chose to keep that detail to himself and stayed quiet, seeing as his brother was reluctant to talk about his feelings. Fjall could say he was used to this side of Mordeu.

Soon, a bell sounded, not as loud as the large one, but loud enough to capture the attention of the people on the mountaintop.

Kai stood on a small pedestal, seven other men dressed just like he was, stood behind him. Their presence pulling in the attention of all the trainees, resulting in a silence so loud a whisper could be heard.

With a smile, he began, "The training commences today."

A round of applause from the men behind him.

Kai cleared his throat, "and the first order of business is the irrecondite chase known as the Chase of Fate."

Alana rolled her eyes, "I'm sure Alvitir named it that," she gagged.

Mordeu didn't spare her a glance, but Fjall wasn't so stingy.

"I think we should just try to listen," Fjall suggested to the woman whose attention had drifted to the muscly man beside her, whose undercut was made evident because his hair was suddenly in a ponytail.

Mordeu had always been attractive to her, but this, this was on another level. Though she was blessed with just a side profile, she saw the determination in the furrow of his eyebrows, his chiseled jawline, and his remarkable bone structure his face had been blessed with.

Sure, Cillian was beautiful, possessing features likened to a woman's, but Mordeu was how a man should look. 

Alana swallowed.

"Did you get all that he said?"

Mordeu turned to her, and unfortunately for Alana, she had missed the whole speech. She looked around, seeing people walking about and Kai was nowhere to be seen.

She huffed.

"I thought you had been listening?" Fjall had taken notice of her expression.

Alana opened her mouth, but Mordeu beat her to it, "she was busy."

His eyes were glued to hers, devoid of the familiarity it usually possessed.

Alana swallowed again, "I was busy," her head fell.

Fjall shrugged, still in the dark, "well, he only said that there were going to be teams of six members and each team is represented by a color," he summarized.

"And this is for the chase?"

Mordeu nodded, "he said a few words on the details of the chase, we just hope to find someone that knows a thing."

Fjall shrugged, "he did say it was irrecondite."

Mordeu shook his head, "I don't even know what that means." He walked away.