Brave Fear (boyxboy)

Chapter 12

Zane threw up his hands. The wooden deer horn knives intercepted the thick wooden staff as it came down, heading for his head. He winced as the impact jarred his arms. His fingers were numb from blocking Daisy's strikes over and over. But he gritted his teeth and pushed, deflecting the staff.

"Good," Daisy said. She was standing across from him, with the staff gripped in her hands. Her light blue jeans were rolled above her knees, and her upper body was encased in a pale yellow sleeveless shirt. Sweat trickled down her forehead and neck. Her blue hair was collected in a uniform ponytail, centered on the top of her head. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving.

Zane knew he looked similar. The sweat had plastered his stray blond hair to his forehead, almost long enough to block out his sight. He had replaced his previous outfit with a pair of shorts and a white tee. He was exhausted, but Daisy had insisted they keep training. Both with their weapons and their powers.

Daisy, upon learning that Zane and Joseph had never used a weapon before and were still slightly uncertain about these new abilities, had taken it upon herself to be their coach. For the last three days, she had been teaching Zane how to stand, how to hold his weapons, and different strikes he could use. She had also taught them how to control their powers. She had insisted they sit in a dark room and meditate. She told them to envision their abilities like a faucet that they could turn on and off at will. Zane was still having troubles, but Joseph was taking leaps and bounds.

"Watch out," Daisy said, and slowly she lifted from the ground. Her feet relaxed and pointed toward the ground. She still held the staff firmly as she ascended into the air. "Unpredictable enemy." She tilted her body slightly forward and zipped through the air, stopping behind Zane. He turned quickly, but by then she was gone again.

"Focus, Zane," she said.

He envisioned the faucet. He scrunched his eyebrows together, and he imagined the faucet running, producing clear, cool, water.

He opened his eyes to see the staff come down upon him. It sliced right through him, meeting no resistance. His body exploded outward in a cloud of floating particles. Daisy nodded approval, trying vainly to find any physical part of his body to concentrate on. Finding none, she took up a defensive stance, expecting an attack.

Zane focused on a spot just out of her line of vision. He saw this spot through a million eyes and zeroed in on it. He ordered his cells to converge on that spot and reform into his physical body. The pair of deer horn knives lay on the mat at his feet. He knew he could've taken them with him, but he didn't want the others to suspect anything. He didn't want to be pressured to escape.

His particles reformed. He gave a relieved sigh when his eyes reformed and he didn't have to depend on all of his cells. He tuned out the other eyes, the thousands of others that had yet to converge into his legs.

Daisy whirled, but not fast enough.

Zane sacrificed the cells from one of his feet to create a staff in his hands. He was in the air, after all. He struck out, hitting the back of Daisy's knees, but not too hard, because he didn't want to injure her. But she did gasp sharply, and he winced.

The force of the blow rolled her in midair, turning her so her back was above the ground. Zane's reformed body was claimed by gravity and he began to descend. As he fell, he placed his staff over her chest, assuring she fell with him.

She hit the ground with a noise of surprise. Zane almost toppled sideways because he had forgotten he only had one foot. He slowed the faucet of power and his staff disintegrated and his foot returned. He stood properly, dividing his weight between his feet.