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Mortal Decoy

Samara is a demon who travels through a tear in dimensions to satisfy her curiosity about humans and their world. She is taken with the primitive charm of the human world, and especially enjoys their tasty food. But as she grows closer to her new human companions, demands from the demon realm pressure her to return. Samara must decide if her budding relationships with humans, specifically a Holy Knight named Kivani, are worth abandoning her life in the demon realm. Fallon is a human who has spent the years since her sister’s murder preparing for revenge. When she comes of age to join the Holy Knights, it’s the perfect opportunity. She just has to pretend to be a boy and be the best initiate to gain access to her target. Unfortunately, an infuriating boy is always a step ahead in the challenges. As Fallon puts all her training to the test, she learns that the truth may not be what it seems. And the boy who might ruin her chance may actually be able to help her.

Zinnia_Olive · ファンタジー
レビュー数が足りません
23 Chs

Chapter 4 - Fallon

My eyes burned as I stared at the scoreboard. I clenched and unclenched my fists. This was ridiculous. There had to be a mistake. My time stretched out across the board, in fancy gold ink. 

In second place, Fallon S. - 5:22. 

In first, Flynn S. - 5:18. 

I lost by four seconds. I gritted my teeth. Lost, to a damn failed Cadet. I forced myself to take a breath. This wasn't the end. There were still plenty of other tasks to beat him at. And my score was good. Technically. I could be a gracious loser. 

Then Flynn appeared. I'd specifically woken early in order to avoid other people and I wasn't properly dressed. My chest remained unbound. 

I stalked away as he leaned in to observe our score. Behind my back, he cackled. Of all the possible responses, that made my blood boil the most. I spun around, face hot. 

"Do you have something you want to say?" I crossed my arms over my chest. 

"I warned you about that fourth tree." He smirked.

I balled my hands into fists and resisted the urge to find a dagger. Through gritted teeth, I managed, "So you did." 

Flynn stepped toward me. "You did so well otherwise. Probably could have beaten my score, if it weren't for that slip."

I leaned forward. "I'll beat you next time. You can count on it." I spun on my heel and walked away. 

"I'll be waiting," he called after me. 

Over my shoulder, I flipped him off. Flynn snickered, which was not the reaction I wanted. I stomped towards the privy. 

*****

I was more than determined to prevail in the day's magic test. No one, definitely not a repeat Cadet, would beat me. I was not a loser. I was an Ó Siadhail, after all. We didn't lose. Or that's what I told myself as I bound my chest in a dark privy with barely a foot of space on either side of me. 

No other Ó Siadhail ever had to do this, but at the age of fourteen, it had become obvious I wouldn't so easily pass for a boy anymore. My father ordered a customized corset from a local tailor. It compressed my chest rather than boosted it and was crafted from a thinner, more stretchable, and breathable material. It was not comfortable and I had to take it off to sleep at night or risk terrible chest and back aches. 

Still, it was a necessary discomfort to reach my goal. Which wasn't even to be the best initiate, anyway. I mean, ideally, I would be. But my main goal was to avenge my sister's murder and I could do that no matter where I placed. I could be second and still quickly rise to the Monik's guards. This whole ordeal with Flynn wasn't the end of anything. It was insignificant and I ought to stop spending so much time thinking about it. 

But I couldn't stop. I wanted to win so badly.

I finished lacing the corset and pulled my tunic back over my head. I left the tiny privy with my head high. I was ready. 

After a quick breakfast, where I ate alone because small chat is strange, the next challenge began. This one was more open to interpretation. Each initiate would enter the arena which was divided into various environments. Seats open to the public surrounded the arena, making a spectacle of our efforts. The initiate would perform their most impressive displays of magic within five minutes. Six judges, all Clunaic generals, would rate the initiate's skillsets and publish the scores the next morning. 

The Monik resided over it all from his seat above the judge's box. There was no sign of his magic. There never was, from the reports my father shared. He noticed my stare and gave a wave. I nodded at him, though my blood boiled at the way he sat there, without a concern in the world. The most powerful murderer in the world.

Someone tapped my shoulder. I jumped, dagger in my hand before I'd even turned around. Mavie jumped back; hands raised. 

"Sorry! I should have said something!" she exclaimed. 

I relaxed and sheathed my dagger. Finally, a friendly face. I smiled at her. "I'm a bit on edge."

Mavie sidled up beside me. "A bit? Seems more like a lot. Though you really shouldn't be. I saw the rankings; you did amazing yesterday! Unless parkour is your only skill. Then I'd be worried." 

I raked a hand through my hair. "It's not my only skill. But I need to be better than I was yesterday."

She scrunched her nose. "But you got second."

"Exactly. I got second," I said. A boy with wind magic poured his might into a tornado that consumed the entire arena. It was impressive, but unfortunate for him, the judges sat behind the sand potion. The tornado spat sand all over them. The display might have been impressive but they grumbled. That was the makings of a bad score. Because we didn't just have to be good at magic, we had to please the judges. 

Mavie stared at me. "I think we may have different definitions of good."

I shrugged. "Maybe."

She patted my shoulder. "You passed with plenty of room to spare. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. And if you're anywhere nearly as good at the rest of the challenges, you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried," I responded automatically. 

She gave me a sideways look and glanced down at my leg. It was bouncing. "Sure you're not."

I forced myself to be still. I wasn't nervous. I wasn't allowed to be. It was just a physical reaction out of my control. Or that's what I tried to convince myself it was. Turns out growing up completely isolated from people really did a number on my emotional intelligence. 

I tactfully changed the subject. "How did you become a healer?" 

Mavie's eyes lit up. "Oh, through my father! He's one of the best healers out there. He taught me everything I know, which is more than most healers my age." She leaned in and whispered, "he let me learn to heal before it was even legal for women to become healers. I was just always around and he answer any questions I asked. He even taught me to read so I could use his medical books whenever I wanted!"

Most women were never taught to read. I was pretending to be a boy and didn't even know, because it was irrelevant to my mission. "He sounds great. Does he live here too?" I asked. 

Mavie's smile dipped ever so slightly. "No. I'm from a small town, quite a way away. I feel bad leaving him, but to become an officially recognized healer you have to spend a couple years either here in the capital or here."

"Oh," I said. It was enough for her to continue.

"It's pretty ritzy here in Asyobel compared to where I'm from. But they're not as open to women healers. I get the brunt of the nasty tasks." I hmmed in sympathy. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's ok though. I've only got another year of it, then I can go home." 

"What made you choose the Clunaics over the Kingsmen? I bet either would suit you," Mavie asked. 

"Well, my magic." I shifted in my boots. This wasn't a question I liked, but I supposed since she had been nothing but kind, I felt compelled to give her a little truth. "My father was also a Clunaic. It runs in the family."

"We're both following after our fathers, I suppose," she said. And we're both women in men's worlds, I added silently. 

The handler called my name. I tensed. I'd been so distracted by Mavie, my turn had snuck up on me. I was going before Flynn today, but that didn't change anything. I had my plan. 

"Guess that's me," I muttered. 

Mavie grinned at me. "May the angels bless you!" I waved and walked towards the entrance. 

Flynn stood by the gate and said, "Good luck." I scowled and he grinned. He always grinned or smiled. He really should use other facial expressions.

The handler motioned me forward and into the arena before I could respond. I entered in the dessert area. I strode across it, heels sinking into the sand. There were so many people around the arena. Half the town must have come to watch. I suppose it was a bit like a celebration for them. 

I stopped in the center of the arena. It was smaller than it initially appeared, only thirty feet or so in circumference. Sand stretched out behind me. Dirt in front. Stone beside it. And finally, clay across from the stone. There were pools of water, rocks of metal, and trees with grass spread randomly throughout. I had 4 minutes and 40 seconds left to blow their minds. 

I began with the easiest task. I crouched down, dug my fingers through the dirt, and fed it my mana. I rose fast and raised my hands above my head. The dirt followed. Right before my eyes a wave rose taller than me and then shifted the rest of the dirt. It slowed into a soft rolling motion.

I turned away and dug my fingers into the sand. I repeated the motions I had with the dirt, forcing even more of my mana into its flow. Sand was not my specialty and so it required more effort. Still, the wave rose and fell just as impressively. I think some of the crowd gasped, but I was too concentrated on my work to really take note. 

I turned to the clay and did the same. Then the stone. Stone was the hardest because it was a solid substance and I was the least in tune with it. Sweat poured from every orifice as I struggled to feed it enough mana. I had to grab my dagger, made of angelite. It stored raw mana and I needed the extra push to bend the stone to my will. It worked. Pieces broke apparent, forming gravel rather than a solid stone surface. In every direction, dirt and sand and stone and clay swayed in gentle waves

The floor of the arena was alive with my power. I glance towards the timer, who signaled that I had only thirty seconds left. Time for my grand finale. 

I closed my eyes and urged the mana within the different types of Earth to merge with the mana I had pressed into them. I clenched my jaw. I had spent so much mana the empty space it left behind hurt. Still, the manas entwined until I had full control over the swaying ground. 

I opened my eyes. Ten seconds left. I spun and the different surfaces began to escape their original bounds. Sand met stone; dirt met clay. I clapped my hands together. The crash sent them into a burst of chaos. Bits of earth rose thirty feet in the air like an earthen typhoon. It was a whirlwind unlike any other. 

A BANG signaled the end of my time. I released my hold on the mana and the earth dropped back into place. It was all mixed up, but someone else could fix it. I swayed on my feet.

The audience burst into applause, in absolute awe of my feat. There were very few non-noble-born who held enough mana to even access their magic, let alone master several different types of earth magic. I must seem like an angel to them. I hoped it was impressive enough to Holy Knights.

I forced my legs, which felt like big blobs of jelly, to take a step. My head spun and my insides tumbled. I had used too much mana. I could collapse. But not yet. Collapsing after my challenge would be the absolute worst thing to do. 

I pushed my shoulders back, chin up. I eyed the Monik as I returned to the exit step by step. His head tilted as he watched me. I wish I knew what he was thinking. 

I made it through the gate before my legs gave out. Mavie waited on the other side, eyes wide. As soon as I stepped through, she tucked her arm through mine. I let her support me, in this subtle yet much-needed way. 

"That obvious?" I asked. It couldn't have been. I couldn't lose points like that. 

Mavie said, "Only because of my specialty magic. I can sense your mana levels." 

"Oh," was my only response. She led me in the direction of the Center. I stopped. "I need to watch the rest of the initiates." I needed to watch Flynn. 

Mavie gave me a look. "What you need is rest. And maybe food." I shook my head vehemently. She sighed. "Fine. But you have to sit." 

I agreed. I doubt I could remain standing if I tried. We found seats in the front. 

Lucky for me, I had been close to the end again. We only had to sit through two more initiates, during which I almost fell asleep on Mavie's shoulder at least twice, before Flynn came up. 

He strode into the arena like he owned it. I forced myself to sit up. Someone had cleared the arena so it was mostly clean again. He walked right into a pool of water. Wait, not into. On top of. He was floating on or above the surface. 

Wait, that wasn't right either. I rubbed my eyes. The water was turning to ice beneath his boots. Every step he took transformed the water directly beneath his feet into ice. He stopped in the center of the pool and crouched. He dragged his fingers through the water and made small swirls. 

He burst upward, and with what seemed to be very little effort but must have been extremely strenuous, compelled the water up. It burst towards the sky in six geyser-like gusts. It reached no taller than a man, but remained even after the initial burst settled. Six towers of water. Flynn closed his eyes and the towers begin to jiggle and shape. 

Mavie gasped. He was creating men out of the pillars of water. They stood straight-backed with swords held aloft. My exhaustion was temporarily forgotten. At this rate, he'd blow past my score. 

Flynn reached deep into the water with one hand. The other clutched his dagger. Angelite. Of course. I groaned as he channeled even more magic into the water. What could possibly need so much mana? 

I got my answer with a minute left on his clock. I hoped he would run out of time, but alas, the entire pool erupted upwards. Flynn rode atop the water, standing tall with arms outstretched. Ice coated his feet to keep him in place. His eyes narrowed and his face reddened. This display was draining him, too. Not fast enough, though.

The water vibrated beneath him, shaping from an enormous blob to something new. Something with four clawed paws and a mouth full of fangs. The creature twisted this way and that, long body ending in a thin tail. 

He created a sea serpent. Things of legend, never truly confirmed to be real but always feared. He urged the creature up, up until he rose higher than the tallest trees in the arena. 

He pointed down and the beast launched into action with gnashing teeth. The wail of waves smacking waves accompanied the action. The water creature crashed into the first of the fictitious soldiers. I was glad it was only water with the way it blew apart into tiny droplets. No human could survive such an attack. 

I couldn't tear my gaze away. It was the most impressive display of magic I'd ever seen. I'd severely underestimated my competition. 

I swear, as the beast crashed into the soldier nearest Mavie and me, Flynn shot me a smirk. The water soldier splintered apart and a surge of water washed over me. It soaked me through to my corset and I shivered. I suppose I wasn't hot anymore.

Mavie gaped at me. "You alright?" She was perfectly dry. I scowled. 

"Damn Cadet," I muttered. 

Mavie stared after him as he finished his display and the water returned to the earth. "I've never seen anything like him."

I glared down at him. "He's certainly something." He had the gall to meet my gaze and wink.

*****

Flynn was absolutely, without doubt, the most maddening creature I had ever met. The judges were awed by his magical performance and gave him a slightly higher score. So stupid. He managed to stay a step ahead of me the entire test. Literally, when it came to the footrace. He shouldn't have been so good. Something about him that set me on edge.

After the final challenge, a test of strength where Flynn managed to lift barely more than me, it was time for the final test. An analysis of our affinity with holy fire. They stuffed all of us initiates into a courtyard at the center of the building. 

I paced as best I could in a small corner. I had to turn around every three steps to avoid bumping into someone. My body ached with each step, blisters biting deeper. I barely noticed. I'd never been able to practice this before. Not that practicing would help, you were either born with the ability to wield holy fire or you weren't. With my bloodline, it should be easy. But you never knew for sure until you tried.

Flynn leaned against the wall beside me, unconcerned. He must have proven he possessed a Holy Fire affinity last year, or he wouldn't have been allowed to retest. He knew what was coming. Bastard.

I turned away from him, took three steps, and turned to face him again. He stood two steps away, arms crossed over his chest. 

"This time, you're nervous," he said. 

"No." The silence between us stretched. The rucks of too many voices in too small a space made my head hurt. "Well, not all of us have done this before and know what to expect."

"They give you an angelite sword imbued with holy fire," he began.

I rolled my eyes. "That's not the worrisome part."

"What's your last name?" he asks.

"I–" I glance at the Monik, who sits at the center of the yard. He's watching me. "I'd rather not say."

"What, you got some sort of secret?" he teases. I lean against the wall and fold my arms across my chest. "Come on, I can tell you're a noble. A commoner wouldn't have as much mana as you."

"If I tell you, will you shut up?" I snap. 

"If that's what you want."

"It's what I want. My last name's Ó Siadhail. Happy?"

"Ó Siadhail… like…" he glances at the Monik then back to me. 

I sigh. "Yeah. He's my uncle."

Flynn's ears practically perked up. "Then your father must be advisor to the King."

"You're supposed to shut up now," I reminded him. He pressed his lips together so they turned white, eyes wide and animated. 

I turned away, choosing to focus on the Monik instead. He's ten years older than my father and the wrinkles and greying hair show it. But there are some resemblances. We all share dark brown eyes and a sharp jawline. My sister didn't share any of the same traits as my father. She looked like my mother, with chestnut hair and golden-brown eyes. I wondered if the Monik's kids look like us too. Would they miss him when I complete my mission?

Doesn't matter. With what he did to my sister, his kids will be safer with him gone. 

A bell rang out and the chatter died. A Holy Knight stepped into the courtyard, angelite sword in hand. I took a deep breath. The test was about to get underway. 

The Monik stood and quickly explained the test. We had to hold the sword and push our mana into it, then the blade should do the rest. It hadn't been connected to a Holy Knight yet, so we would be able to bring about its blaze. If we had the potential.

"For our first initiate, would Fallon please step forward?" 

My toes curled. I was to go first? Flynn shoved me forward and I began the trek toward the angelite sword, all eyes on me. My heart pounded in my ears and sweat slipped down my back. 

I stopped before the Holy Knight, gave him a nod, and took the sword. It felt warm, pleasantly so, against my palm. I help the hilt tight and coaxed my mana into the weapon. It invited it, almost pulled the mana from me. It grew warmer, but no fire. For a beat, I thought I failed. 

Another second, and the blade burst into blue flame. I grinned, my limbs loosening from a stiffness I hadn't noticed before. From the other side of the flame, the Monik's eyes met mine.

*****

That night, the initiates who passed the afternoon's test were summoned to the dining hall. It was a little cramped, but, with how many initiates failed the various tests, it could have been much worse. 

I slumped over the table, fists clenched. Blisters stung my palm. It kept me awake. Exhaustion tugged at my consciousness. It had been a rough week, to say the least, and the holy weapon drained much more of my mana than I initially thought. 

Flynn plopped down across from me. He still managed to flash that irritating grin, though he must be as tired as me. He stuck out a hand. "Good run, Fallon."

I ignored it and stared past him. Why bother to summon us if they weren't going to do anything? I longed for my cot, even if it was too hard and too small. 

Sweat slicked my brow. There were too many bodies. Too many people. It was not what I was accustomed to and I didn't like it. 

Flynn dropped his hand. "I had fun, anyway. You made this whole ordeal more entertaining." 

I slide my gaze to him. "Is this a game to you? Fighting demons?" 

Flynn narrowed his gaze. "Because you, a spoiled brat who's never experienced a hard day of work in his life, knows about fighting demons." 

"I've fought demons before. Killed them, too," I said. I crossed my arms, determined not to engage him further. I didn't need to defend myself. 

"Let me guess, a mongrel demon?" He leaned back in his seat. My burning cheeks must have been enough of an answer because he continued, "I grew up on the Dartvista Islands, surrounded by constant tears and attacks. Don't lecture me about the seriousness of battle before you've seen a demon feed on a human soul."

I blinked twice. Flynn hailed from the Dartvista Islands? A shiver crawled up my spine. Even tucked away on my father's estate, I'd heard of the horrors the Islands held. Men hunted other men for fun in the streets. Young girls found themselves at the mercy of brothels. And demons ran amuck. So much human corruption in one place created daily tears. They couldn't all be contained, but the people couldn't leave either. They'd simply bring the tears with them to the mainland. 

I watched Flynn with new eyes. He must have seen many atrocities to survive the Islands. There was a scar that curved along his chin I hadn't noticed before. I wonder how he got it? 

The first of the Clunaics filed in, clogging the front of the room. The Monik moved within their ranks. My attention was recaptured by my primary mission. I ran a finger over the ring I wore. It hid enough poison to finish the job. But I wouldn't be close enough anytime soon.

It took an awkward moment of shuffling and half silence for the judges and Monik to settle. Finally, he spoke. "You all have shown yourselves to be an impressive batch of initiates," he began his tirade. I listened, but only enough that I could focus if anything of actual importance was said. We still needed more training before joining a Parish, yadda-yadda. Our training would be of the utmost quality, yadda-yadda. It took him a lot of meandering to get anywhere. 

I pooled a little mana in my fingertips and ran them along a crevice in the table. A micro cloud of duty followed in its wake. The dirt tumbled and danced as I commanded. It balled in on itself and then stretched outward. It was a good way to release a bit of nerve, and small enough no one would notice. Well, almost no one.

I caught Flynn's slight movement in the corner of my eye and looked up. He drew his fingers from his cup of water. The water shimmered and bulged until a tiny water deer pranced in its place. I scowled. Even in private, he had to outdo me. 

I sent a bit of dust mimicking a cannonball into the deer. It bounced away, ice across the creature's side. I glared. Flynn smiled. I sent my dust in for another attack. 

This time, upon contact I let the ball burst apart into a cloud. It coated the deer. Dust sunk into the water and created mud. The deer dropped into an ugly puddle. I flickered my eyes to Flynn. He didn't seem surprised. His magic must be contained solely in water, no additives or additions allowed. I allowed myself a small smirk. 

In my moment of victory that the Monik finally dismissed our group. I pushed up and strode along with the crowd towards the exit. Flynn's shoulder bumped mine and I jerked away. A new voice cut off his apology. 

"Flynn, Fallon. Please stay a bit longer," the Monik said. I froze. Flynn turned with a shrug and retook his seat. I forced myself to take a breath. The Monik could not hurt me here, with so many witnesses. And if he did, I would have the chance to take my revenge. I took a seat beside Flynn. 

The Monik sat across from us. He was so close that when he smiled I could see his crooked teeth. I took a slow, shaky breath. I touched my ring. Now was not the time. Half a dozen Holy Knights stood behind him, accompanying his usual personal guard. Patience was key.

The Monik folded his arms into his billowing sleeves. "You two have achieved quite the impressive scores." Flynn puffed out his chest. "Best scores we have ever seen. We don't want to squander your skills. We're sending you into the Dead Zone next week." 

I straightened. Was he trying to kill me? "That's part of the test?" 

Flynn shot me a smug look. "Yes. It's the final test every initiate must undertake before graduation." 

The Monik nodded. "I know it's a bit soon. We're willing to give you more time. But one of our Parishes recently lost two of its members. It would be the perfect fit, if you're up for it."

Flynn's spine straightened. "My brother's Parish? They just lost two members." I didn't know he had a brother. I guess I didn't really know much about his, aside from how obnoxious he was.

The Monik squinted. "I believe so. He was promoted to Disciple after his recent heroic acts."

Flynn's shoulders stiffened. "That's fast."

The Monik smiled. "It seems the Islands breed strong men." He turned his attention to me. "Do you require more time to prepare for the final task?"

If Flynn could be ready by then, so could I. "Next week is perfect."