WebNovels

Chapter 27 - THE FINAL HINT

Thoughts surged through Simma's mind like a restless tide, scattering distorted fragments that clawed at his focus, unravelling what little peace his meditation offered. He was trying.... truly trying, to master this elusive art, yet his efforts seemed like arrows vanishing into a void.

Others could summon their inner beasts and the weapons that came with them as effortlessly as breathing. He, however, remained stranded, frustration festering like a wound.

The Wood Hints competition was now only four days away, coinciding with the grand spectacle of the Halloween Festival. On that night, as tradition dictated, the new Azrens would be revealed, adding a fervent electricity to the celebration.

And yet, for Simma, the one thing that mattered most in the tournament, the keystone to his success, felt impossibly out of reach, as though it resided on some far-off planet, and he had no rocket pack to claim it.

He rose from his cross-legged position and slid onto the edge of the table beside the massive ceiling-to-floor window, the kind that poured moonlight like silver water into his room. There lay a hulking tome, its presence heavy both in form and in significance, the very book Delilah had delivered three days ago.

She'd claimed he had asked for it, though he could barely remember doing so. And yet, somehow, the thing anchored him, as if its pages concealed answers the world had denied him, as if its words whispered to a truth buried deep in his soul.

With a slow exhale, he opened the thick cover, scanning the first page, like a detective looking for clues on his case and as though it were the first time his eyes had graced it.

Just then there was a light knock on his door, soft and deliberate, breaking the silence.

His gaze shifted to the door, his expression tightening as though the wood itself was the thing behind all his pain.

"Who is it?" he asked, His voice low, edged with reluctance.

A voice drifted through, gentle and composed, as though rehearsed.

"Hey… it's me. I was wondering if we could talk."

Simma exhaled again. Perhaps, he mused bitterly, drawing deep breath had become his new pastime. His patience, always fragile these days, was thinning, and he wondered if the creeping influence of the Umbrax was to blame, or himself for the out bursts of rage.

Dragging his feet across the floor with the deliberate slowness of a weary giant, he opened the door.

"Delilah…?" His brows rose. "Wha... what are you doing here?" He leaned on the doorframe, a posture that spoke less of welcome than of quiet barricade. If in words it'd say; 'I don't want you to enter into my house.'

She looked up at him, her gaze lingering as though committing the contours of his face to memory.

"Mind if I come in?"

Simma forced a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Sure."

He opened the door wide, and she slipped inside with a grace that bordered on feline, her gaze roaming the room with a subtle restlessness. She sat on his bed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear before saying, almost abruptly:

"I feel… guilty."

Simma's eyes narrowed slightly, the air between them thickening. 'Maybe it's my fault you feel guilty,' he thought dryly. 'After all, you did humiliate me in front of everyone during training.' But he shoved the bitterness aside.

"Well, you shouldn't," he said evenly.

Delilah looked at him. Her eyes searched his face, uncertain.

"Shouldn't you be mad at me? I mean… I keep poking at you during training." Those words were as if she read his mind just now.

He let out a quiet laugh, lowering himself onto the bed beside her.

"As much as I'd love to be mad at someone, I always end up turning it on myself. I just… feel like a complete failure. I can't even tame my own temper, let alone my beast, and..."

"Stop."

Her voice cut through his self-condemnation, and she placed her hand lightly over his. A faint grin touched her lips.

"You might be bad at taming your beast. And maybe... just maybe... you were a bit of a jerk in the training center... "

"Wow, so that's how your pep talks start?" he interrupted, smirking despite himself.

She chuckled, for a moment there a blush lit her face. "You're ridiculous."

"So I've been told," he replied, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him.

"All I'm saying is," she continued,

"stop tearing yourself apart. Face what's in front of you like a man, because you are one. And for the record, I'm here if you ever need me. Consider that my apology for the rudeness."

He studied her for a moment, tempted to ask how she had climbed to such a high rank so young, but thought better of it.

"Thanks."

Simma felt whole again, something he never thought he could feel since his within beast and all have been putting pressure on him. And he felt this way around the very last person he thought will make it happen.

Another knock interrupted them.

And that was when Simma realized how they had been staring at each other, A quick sear of blush shivered through him almost causing Goosebumps on his skin.

"One second," he bellowed, rising to open the door as Delilah let go of his hand.

"Hey, Sarah," he greeted, swinging it halfway open, just like he did when he opened it for Delilah.

But Sarah, with a smile flashing on her face and joy teasing her very soul, didn't wait for an invitation, as she pushed the door open. With words streaming out her mouth, she entered.

"Have you checked your ES?" she asked as she was already in.

"Come in," Simma replied dryly and sarcastically, to the fact that she didn't even wait for him to usher her in.

Sarah didn't even notice anything and ignored Simma's sarcastic words. She was just driven by joy at what she had just found out through her ES, which was basically what they called Echelon Seal.

"I'm just so excited that something I'm very good at is finally portrayed at the tournament."

She turned and looked at Simma's boned face. But as her gaze swept the room, it landed on Delilah. The brightness in her expression faltered, replaced by something complicated, an undercurrent she couldn't name, whether embarrassment, suspicion, or something far more personal. She didn't know, but all she felt was everything except good.

"What's going on?" she asked, levelling a look at Simma. Who calmly walked to the center of the room, feeling a kind of numb.

"You two need some space?" she added, her hands now planted firmly on her hips.

Delilah, though perfectly aware of the tension, feigned ignorance.

"No," she said smoothly, rising. "We were done here anyway."

She glided toward the door with her normal slithering steps, and with a sly glance back at Simma, murmured, "Catch you later."

Those words were as if they muffled Sarah's breathing, her beautiful face grimacing bloodily.

"Right," Simma replied flatly, dropping back onto the bed.

"What was she doing here? I can't believe you even told her where you live," Sarah said, her tone sharp, irritation edged to her voice.

"I didn't. She came to apologize, and I'm pretty sure she figured it out herself."

Sarah's posture stiffened, but she strained her neck backwards and exhaled as if what Simma just said were all lies..

"Simma… she's our teacher. Letting her into your room, do you know what people will think?"

Now he understood. And the anger simmering in him, always just below the surface lately, began to stir.

"Is that what you think I care about right now? What people might think? Let them think whatever they want. I've got a dragon to master, and I don't give a damn."

He forced himself to breathe, softening slightly. "Look, nothing's going on. She came to apologize. No big deal. But... hang on.... why do you care so much that she was here? or do you want to be the only girl that knows my room?"

That caught Sarah off guard. She stumbled over her words before throwing her hands up.

"No... is ... is.... not....mphm....Fine. Let me just share my news... and then we go about it"

"Go about what?" Simma asked, raising both arms and leaving them to slump back on the bed.

"You seriously haven't checked your ES?"

He shrugged.

"No."

"Well, you should. The final hint's out. Everyone's Echelon Seal got it, and it is of two options, to pick one."

To be sincere, Simma was actually tired of all this, both himself and all that was going on, and he felt the urge to tell Sarah that he was losing hope but didn't want to be dragged through the mud of shame.

"Care to spoil it for me?" he queried, leaning back, clearing his mind.

Sarah now went and sat on his desk, caressing the huge book that lay open there absentmindedly.

"Sure. First option.... gliding through the Part. Whatever the part is. Second option... The Fall."

"The Fall?" He frowned. "That sounds… dangerous. Or at least..."

"Scary, I know," she cut in. "That's why I'm not even considering it."

Her attention shifted, belatedly, to the book on his desk. "You've been reading?" She picked it up, running her eyes over the embossed title, which said:

"My Past Selves and the Me, Me." she read out.

Eyes narrowing to Simma,

"What kind of title is that?" she asked.

"I have no idea. Do you?" He threw back, stretching.

"Nope. But…" She set it down again.

"Maybe we could go gliding together. I could show you a few tricks. What do you say?"

Simma dropped the rest of his torso on the bed.

"mm"

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