Page 18 of The Scars Within (Twisted Thorn #1)

I figured we would have taken the turret stairs down to the bottom floor, but I was wrong.

Instead, we took turns loading onto a small wooden platform with thin rails around it. A couple of third-years below used their air magic to create strong gusts of air that gently lowered us to the ground. My knees felt like jelly.

We gathered at the bottom of the Doom Simulator, watching as a second-year student, Clara, ensured her gear was snug.

She wore thin gloves with her sleeveless leathers, presumably to help her grip the wall.

It was unbearably hot outside, and I wondered how those gloves wouldn’t just slide off with sweat.

Her classmates at the bottom cheered her on, chanting her name.

“Clara! Clara! Clara!” Clara stepped up to the starting line and got into a steady stance: knees bent, one foot slightly in front of the other, arms bent at ninety-degree angles.

She looked like she was about to square off in a boxing ring.

Another professor at the bottom, presumably the second-year professor, held out his fingers and counted down from three. Then, he clapped using the same sound amplification method Skuttlezwagon had used .

Clara jumped over the edge. Literally leaped.

My heart stopped in my chest. She fell a few feet before a sudden burst of air swooped her to the right, where she grabbed hold of a hand-sized rock.

Her feet found purchase between the large stones that made up the castle of Mageia.

She shimmied her feet far enough to the right until she could stretch her arm and grasp the next rock jutting out of the wall.

Once she had her entire body moved over, she leapt to the right and sent a gust of wind upwards to help her reach a hanging rope.

She took a moment to breathe, and I was glad for her because I didn’t think I had since she made the first jump.

She just hung onto the rope until a slow, steady flow of air started to rock her back and forth.

After a few swings, she was high enough to leap again and grasp a larger rock.

Her feet landed on an extremely thin platform.

The rock her hands met was sticking out wide enough from the wall to cause her body to stand unevenly since the platform for her feet was so thin and close to the surface.

Her fellow cadets cheered, but even from here, you could see a flash of worry on Clara’s face as she looked down over her shoulder. She kept readjusting her grip on the rock because it looked like her gloves were beginning to slide off her hands.

Clara slipped.

It may have only been a couple of seconds, but her freefall felt like hours. Every cadet watching from the ground gasped. I raised my hands over my mouth.

Clara threw her arms downward, and her descent started to slow.

She continuously channeled air downward to pump enough to keep from falling to the ground.

She managed to tilt her body forward towards the wall and landed her forearm and elbow on another thin wooden platform, quickly grabbing with her remaining hand to hold herself upright.

She screeched in pain and kicked the air.

“Clara!” Her professor yelled with a deep voice, an unsaid instruction to remind her that she knew what she needed to do .

“I... know...” Clara grunted. She lifted her body enough so that one leg could lift onto the platform.

She took a moment to balance herself sideways on the platform so that her left arm could hang freely.

She made a very particular motion with her hand and stopped abruptly, her hand frozen in midair.

Then she quite literally hauled a boulder—a boulder—up off the ground with a pull of her elbow towards her body.

Once it was close enough, she let herself go from the platform and rolled onto the boulder. Her professor raised his hands, guiding the boulder slowly back to the ground. The boulder landed with Clara lying on her backside, her chest rising and falling.

Everybody clapped.

That was absolutely incredible.

After the professor checked on Clara and helped her up, he turned toward us first-years. “Who wants to try the first few obstacles?”

He must be mad. None of us had channeled the air element yet. That would be simulating our doom. Literally.

“If nobody speaks up, I will pick at random,” the professor teased as he slowly walked down the line of us with authority. I kept my eyes fixed downward.

“How about that one?” a familiar voice said from afar. I looked up to see a tall man walking towards the group. The sun was beaming so brightly that I couldn’t see his face.

“Which one?” Skuttlezwagon asked the unknown man.

Shadows finally covered his face as he raised his arm and pointed. At me. “That one.”

It was Captain Thorne.

My father.

Did he figure out who I was? Or was he picking on me because I had been caught eavesdropping on his conversation with Rhodes? I couldn’t be sure, but I met his stare anyway, standing tall with my shoulders back. He may be over a foot taller than me, but my dignity was ten times the size of his .

Swallowing the knot in my throat and remembering the pinky promise I made to Shayde earlier, I stepped out of the crowd.

I am about to fall to my doom.

I made my way to the top of the Doom Simulator with Professor Skuttlezwagon.

She was giving me pointers the entire lift up, but I don’t think I heard a single word she said.

My blood was pounding in my ears. She handed me a pair of climbing gloves, and I resisted, but she insisted they were mandatory.

“Now, you must know that Professor Reynoski and I will not let you fall. This is just a little test we do to ensure that first-years understand the risks of wielding the air element. It isn’t just fun and games.”

“Well… that is a terrifying way to do so,” I said.

“Over the years, it has been the most effective,” she replied with a smile as she patted me on the shoulder. “Did you see how Clara got into position at the start?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“You’ve got this,” she gave me a thumbs up and stepped back.

I did not feel like I, in any way, had this. But knowing that my father was an air wielder gave me the slightest bit of hope that maybe air is the elemental magic running through my veins as well.

I stepped up to the starting line and got into position: knees bent, one foot in front of the other, arms at an angle. I looked down at Professor Reynoski.

Three.

I diverted my gaze to find Laney and Tatum.

Two.

I found Captain Thorne.

One.

I jumped .

My lungs decided to hang out back on the roof.

We had learned last week that hand movements were the easiest way to control air magic. Controlling it within your mind takes much more practice and perfection. I mimicked what Clara did and threw my arms in a half-circle motion as if to guide the air to push me to the right.

Nothing happened.

I was falling, flapping my arms like someone who had gotten high on hemlock.

Panic swallowed me whole as a gust of wind shoved me to the right.

I didn’t think twice; I grabbed hold of the rock and dug my toes into the groove between the stones.

I took my first breath since jumping off the edge and looked up to see Skuttlezwagon holding her hands downward toward me.

It wasn’t me channeling that gust of air. She saved my ass.

I closed my eyes and took a minute to calm my breathing as much as possible, mentally yelling at myself not to look down.

Once my thoughts were the least bit collected, I shimmied my feet toward the next obstacle like Clara had.

Once my body was stretched to the max, I ensured that my left hand was gripped firmly on the first rock as I reached with my right to grab the next one.

I balanced my weight on my toes and side-jumped to grab the second obstacle.

Oh, my elements. I made it.

Cheers erupted from the ground. I had my hands around the rock and the ball of my toes on the narrow platform.

All I needed to do next was make it to the rope, and then they would help me down.

I breathed in and out. I had to move quickly because I could feel my hands slipping out of the gloves. My assumption about these was correct.

I breathed in.

I could do this.

I looked up at the rope.

I could do this.

I breathed out.

I could do this .

I looked down.

I couldn’t do this.

My body spasmed, and my hands slipped off the rock.

I was falling face-first. The grass was quickly racing up to meet me.

I may have screamed, but my mind was so clouded with the fear of falling to my doom that I couldn’t tell.

The wind howled in my ears and tore at my clothing and hair.

I felt the bundled tunic break free. Every second stretched into an eternity; the raw, exhilarating sensation of free fall consumed my entire being.

My body hit the ground. The feeling was like a boulder being thrown into my chest. No, I was floating. The feeling must have been the gust of air that Professor Reynoski sent up to catch my fall. He lowered me onto the grass like I was as light as a feather.

Laney and Tatum ran towards me and fell to their knees once my back hit the ground.

All I could see was their faces directly above mine.

They were panicking and asking if I was okay, but I could barely hear over the ringing in my ears.

Skuttlezwagon had made it down the lift and was towering behind Tatum.

She stood there for a moment before walking away.

My friends hauled me to my feet and draped my arms over their shoulders.

Skuttlezwagon, Reynoski, and Captain Thorne turned to face us. The entire class of first-years behind them was quiet and still. Reynoski dipped his chin as a sign of approval for my effort, and Skuttlezwagon said, “Nice job, Thorne.”

My father jerked his head towards Skuttlezwagon and then back to me, realization washing over his color-drained features.

I coughed. “Scarlet,” I looked him dead in the eyes. “Scarlet Thorne.”