Page 49 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

His eyes turned ice-cold, and a slight shiver ran through me. He was rather intimidating, even scary, whenever he got like that. No idea why it sort of turned me on to provoke him.

We continued in silence, advancing further.

Once we started circling the mat, I moved with all the grace of a drunk duck stuck in an acid trip. James however, who looked like he could bench press a truck, attacked me with the perseverance of a Swiftie armed with a backstage pass.

It might’ve helped to stop thinking of metaphors instead of remembering all the fighting techniques he’d imparted.

With each punch and kick, I tried to recall what James had said about tactics, quickly realizing to duck and cover was probably my most reliable go-to strategy.

I knew he wanted me to be a tough cookie, but honestly, for the last few months in this new world, I’d been feeling more like a piece of chocolate cake, trying to survive snack-time in kindergarten.

"Keep your hands up," James ordered.

I tried to focus, but my mind was all over the place.

"And don’t take your eyes off me."

Trust me, that was impossible.

"Now tell me—what’s the LiaPrism?"

I blinked, lowering my hands for a split second. "What?"

Without missing a beat, James pounded his fist against my arm.

“Ouch! That hurt!”

"I said keep your hands up! And, for fuck’s sake, answer the question."

An oral exam during sparring? You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Just answer the question, Emma, and keep your fists up.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah, like that. Now, tell me about the prism.”

“It’s ridiculous to ask about this in the middle of a fight.”

“It’s ridiculous for you to argue right now.” His voice was sharp. “Knowledge makes the difference between life and death. This is important.”

“Oh, so knowing about the prism is supposed to save my life?”

“For fuck’s sake, Emma, stop deflecting and just answer the damn question!”

“Fine.” I lifted my hands again, annoyed. "It’s a crystal that allows us to track magi translating in the human world."

“Very good. And why is that important?”

"Because… it doesn’t work on me."

“Exactly. And why can’t anyone know that?”

I exhaled sharply, getting tired of the drill. "Because we’re offering the prism to humans to smooth over the transition after the Great Exposure."

"Which means?"

"I’m a threat to the Great Exposure."

"And?"

I hesitated, piecing it together. "And… that’s why the Radicals attacked me and tried to steal my blood."

A darkness flickered across James’s eyes at the memory, something sharp and dangerous that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. If I’d blinked, I’d have missed it.

“Which is exactly why you need to learn to keep your hands up,” he said, tone firm.

I rolled my eyes.

After another invigorating course of boxing, we moved to grappling on the mat, my limbs flailing like an octopus in a washing machine and I couldn’t help but giggle, which earned me one of James’s iconic scowls.

“We’re moving out to Oasis after this. Hopefully, being surrounded by all that faunacrap will get your emotions going enough to translate and use the Skindo properly,” James announced as I dodged his punch.

This surprised me. We usually trained at the Universitas because it was the only place where translation was visible.

I groaned. “Do we really need to focus on translation today?”

He shot me an angry glare. “Don’t act like you don’t remember what we talked about these last few weeks. Or is your memory as defective as your right hook?” He snarled, blocking my punch.

Fudge, that guy is insufferable.

“I still don’t understand why it’s so important that we train,” I remarked sullenly. “The danger only arises when I do translate, so if I avoid it…”

James sighed, annoyed. “Just because you’re not translating right now doesn’t mean you won’t ever translate.

Translation is a muscle like any other. If you don’t train it, you don’t control it.

What happens if you need to summon energy to save your own life and you don’t have enough of it because you never trained?

Or worse, you summon too much energy and kill yourself and or others in the process? ”

I shrugged. “Then I’ll be dead and this whole problem is fixed.”

James’s jaw clenched. Anger flashed through his eyes and some other emotion I couldn’t quite discern.

"Why are you always so ill-tempered?” I asked slightly irritated.

“Why are you always deflecting?” he asked in the same tone.

I rolled my eyes, not feeling the need to explain I’d rather not feel like failing every day.

“We’re training you after this, and that’s final,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

“Does that mean I’m expected back on the roof?” I asked, trying to keep the dread out of my voice.

James snorted. “I think we can both agree the epic failure of last week does not need any repetition.”

Since the triplets had cancelled Scola for me after James had pestered them about it, my time with all the seven-year-olds was thankfully over.

However, after six weeks of training with James, my translation was still not happening.

James had to create life endangering situations before I projected, which was exhausting, but as I knew he would always “catch me” (metaphorically speaking, though sometimes literally), the results were nowhere near desirable.

At one point last week, James thought it would be a brilliant idea to give me a gravity check from the Spring Palace's roof, hoping my panic would magically summon a rope or ladder.

There I was, casually hanging around, attempting to summon a ladder with all the dramatic flair of a B-list wizard.

Surprise, surprise, no majestic lifesaving object in sight—just me, swaying from the roof like a demented birdcage caught in a tornado.

Eventually, my less-than-patient hero swooped in reluctantly and rescued me from plumping to my death (though not from dying of humiliation).

I couldn't help but sigh in relief, knowing I would at least stay on lower ground this time.

After two hours of grueling physical training, he translated us some water bottles and healthy snacks that tasted like they’d been eaten once before.

Without a moment’s rest, he conjured up his cerulean haze and portaled us out of the Scola and into Oasis.

I cursed my own clumsiness as I awkwardly stumbled through the portal at the edge of the Third Layer.

Despite my less-than-graceful entrance, the sight still managed to overwhelm me with its stunning beauty.

As we walked from the edge of the river to a more secluded area, the air seemed to buzz with the gossip of rustling palm fronds.

The water, clear as a mirror rippled softly, reflecting the blue sky and golden sand.

Lush green plants covered the landscape and colorful flowers popped up everywhere, as if they were competing in some sort of floral fashion show.

As I looked up, I noticed the ever-present exotic birds, flying gracefully above, probably laughing at my lack of coordination.

And I would’ve thoroughly enjoyed it all, if it hadn’t been for mister Killjoy Walker.

“Can you please stop with the inane birdwatching and focus on translating?” James’s impatience had reached new heights within seconds of our arrival. Lucky me .

“Oh well, I’m sorry my lack of magic is causing you so much discomfort,” I retorted.

James rolled his eyes at me. “I’m only saying, we’ve been at this for weeks without any progression. By now, you should at least be able to summon an emotion on cue. What’s holding you back?”

“Nothing,” I snapped.

James rubbed his forehead. “Gods, you’re annoying,” he muttered.

What?

“If I’m so annoying,” I asked, attempting not to be offended, “why do you still bother to train me at all? Why not just hand me over to someone else? Maybe someone with a sense of humor? Ever heard of that?”

“Because I’m the only one who can teach you quickly enough,” he growled, ignoring my jab. “You need to learn to protect yourself, especially considering the attack on your life six weeks ago. Pretty key to your survival , ever heard of that ?”

I snorted. "So, what, you care about me now?"

James raised a brow, a faint, smug smile beginning to appear. “Do you want me to care?”

“No,” I replied a little too quickly.

His almost-smile vanished and his scowl returned with a vengeance. “Don’t flatter yourself. I care about keeping your untraceable translation under wraps and making sure this Great Exposure happens as planned.”

Of course he did.

“Now get to it. Focus on anything you feel.”

I yearned to translate. Truly, I did. All I needed to do, was to feel, anything. But as I stood there, all I could muster was a desire to feel nothing at all.

James's voice echoed in my ears. "Come on, Emma, you've got to summon that emotion. Let it fuel your power." His words felt like distant echoes in the cavern of my mind, reverberating against walls of numbness I had built so meticulously.

I really tried to reach for the emotions he spoke of, to grasp at them like elusive ghosts flitting just beyond my fingertips. But every time I dared to come close, the memories flooded back with full force, threatening to engulf me in their suffocating embrace.

The trauma of being uprooted, torn from everything familiar and thrust into this strange, hostile world of Cyclos, where every corner seemed to hold a new threat.

The darkness of the incident in the bathroom of that pub which started it all.

My car-accident… And above all, the relentless weight of failure pressing down on me like a leaden shroud, a constant reminder of my own inadequacy.

It was too much to let any of it in.

It felt like I had taken every conceivable pain, both hypothetical and real, and buried it in a deep abyss, covered only by a fragile glass shield that I would have to shatter with my bare fists to reach any real emotion.