Of Water & Fire

I awoke in my bed, feeling warm and sweaty from what feels like exertion, although, I haven't seemed to have moved from the position I fell asleep in, just dreaming again.

I look down over my chest at the old aging book and my glasses preciously placed ready to fall at any slight movement and let out a long sigh. Feeling more tried than the night before, I move the objects and drag the quilt closer to my face.

It's coolness calms me as I snuggle in further, the room door clicks open and then closes quietly, a weight pulls slightly at my duvet as the mattress bellies, someone is slide up the bed. I take a deep breath, drinking in the scent of my uninvited guest and let out a sigh.

'Are you awake?' Jasper asks quietly, running a finger under my ear and over my jaw.

'No its Sunday, go away' I mumble before trying to pull the duvet closer to my frame. He chuckled and pulled the duvet back settling himself next to me and drawing me into his chest. 'I thought you might enjoy a little Sunday morning bath...' he whispered suggestively in my ear before kissing the lobe. I shivered slightly at the sensation, 'I would but you and I have a training session this morning' I answered.

Pulling away from his hold, I rolled out of bed, squinting slightly at the glorious sunshine blaring through the drapes, the walnut cream coloured walls offered no reprise from the invasion. Heading for the en-suite bathroom, I pick up a pair of loose black jogging bottoms and pull them on.

In the bathroom I stared at my reflection while brushing my teeth hoping to see some sort of change in the person looking back; sometimes the mirror reflection of Eva Collingwood just doesn't feel like the real me at the sink, the dark hair and emerald eyes. I spit unceremoniously and dragged a brush through my hair while gurgling mouth wash. The strong minty odour nearly bought tears to my eyes as I feel a sudden urge for caffeine. As I patted my mouth dry, I peeked through the door watching an oblivious Jasper.

Propped up by all my pillows and reading from the discarded book, his long toned legs cover by grey sweat pants were crossed and a faded black smiths t-shirt covered his board torso, raven black hair falling into his eyes at intervals. I cross the room deadly quiet and flop down beside him, tilting my chin upwards for a little morning peck.

'You're awake now?' he asked, a smirk on his lips, leaning forward and kissing me. I nodded an answer and pulled myself away, knelling by the bed frame, blindly searching for a pair of trainers underneath. With them on I head for the door,

'You ready?' I ask him raising my eyebrows in mocking; Jasper patted my bum as he passed, 'Always' he grinned.

We headed down the stairs of the main house, Collingwood house; my home and Family's estate owned by and primarily ran by my father, Malcolm Collingwood with my two older brothers, Elliot and Max. It has been in the family for ten generations and was currently the main base and point of call for the European Super Natural Council or ESNC for short, which had remained in total anonymity to normal people or norms, those without magical inclination successfully for many generations. Behind the façade of country estate, the Collingwood family, me included were or rather are renowned wizards and had been long up the ancestry tree even before the time of Arthurian myth and legends.

My father Malcolm Collingwood was currently one of the council's chief elders and had been for the last fifteen years or so. As a master wizard and elder, he possesses an air of power and formidability that strike fear into many and is seen, as an intimidating figure by most members of the council.

As a child I spent most of my days in his study listening to him and other council members discussing business without a care for my age or the details they shared.

I often reflect on those times and wonder if people realise how much their children miss from being ushered out of rooms for the importance of conversations.

My father rules and explanation for my presence were always simple, one, that I never be ignorant or arrogant to conversation or information, and two, to ask if there ever anything I didn't understand in order to learn.

During those days I sat proudly on his knee giving our visitors my most innocent face, a face I might add that I have perfected over the years in order to overcome the sexist nature some council members possess.

Against my father's request I had begun training with Jasper Di Angelo, who had once been my father's apprentice to become what he is now, a Guardian. A Guardian is much like a body guard to which ever magical family they serve, in Jasper's case this was my father and me because I'm a female.

I roll my eyes at the comment often and many of the older council members believe that this training is merely a stage in my 'rebellion'.

I snigger at the thought, as if anyone could rebel against Malcolm Collingwood without being drained or squashed free of their power, I shudder at the thought.

A Guardian is also what the name suggests, a guardian of pieces, and a position for centuries given to warriors of the council. At last count there were thirteen full time Guardians and Seven apprentices. All those guarding the treasures of ESNC, although I won't be aware of what the treasures are and which is my charge until I complete my own training within the council, but I digress.

This morning however, the house is silent. No one appears to be around, no signs of life. There's no rock music from the patio, no smooth classical chimes from the study, just pure simple silence. I stop briefly at the foot of the stairs, watching the medallion of the grand father clock sway silently. Taking a long breathe to enjoy the moment, which is then rudely interrupted as Jasper grabs my hand and playfully tugs me towards the basement stairs.

'I didn't know you were so desperate for an arse kicking Di Angelo.' I give him a devilish smile just letting him know that this morning I'm not pulling any punches in training, to be prepared. He smiles back broadly and nudged his head towards the door.

'Just get your arse down there!' he commented as I chuckle to myself and descend down the creaky wooden stairs to the cool linoleum floor of the basement.

The lights were already on in the windowless room, a full mirrored wall greets me as I hit the centre of the room, a few pieces of gym equipment and treadmill normally littered across the floor have been pushed to the corners. I'm eager with excitement, the positioning of the room indicates one thing, that today we're going to be training with weapons and I love weapons.

Jasper pulled the faded t-shirt from his torso tossing it to the ground, his slightly tanned back facing me as he headed towards the back of the room. He opened the large metal case in the corner pulling it wide, its un-oiled door echoing across the space as he's surveying the cabinet for a weapon. I hear the familiar clang of metal and ask specifically for my favourite, 'I'll take the Damascus Viking sword, please.'

My voice echoing of the walls, I hear the metal blade being pulled from its holster, the interwoven Iron and cool steel of its production ringing in my ears as a familiar song.

Jasper strode towards my position, throwing the sword into my possession, I thumb the sharp blade instinctively as if getting reacquainted, flexing my grip on the small leather handle. The blade is more than 1200 years old but its unique production makes it ideal for a quick kill, which like it was with Viking warriors, is exactly why its so popular with me, efficient but deadly.

I take my stance in differentially shuffling my feet for balance and in slight eagerness of the forthcoming action.

Jasper stepped forward keeping eye contact and taking a similar position three feet ahead, the longer deadly Leuterit sword held idly in his right hand. Rolling his shoulders and speaking in no more than a whisper, 'Ground rules, No use of other weapons if you are disarmed', He started circling, I immediately did the same keeping his eyes on mine, '2, If your partner submits or admits defeat you relinquish your hold or submission.'

We stalked each other for a few seconds, trying to intimidate and unsteady one another, our reflections visible from the corner of the eye in the blurriest of movements.

Lurching towards me, the ringing of metal against metal filled the air along with a grunt of exertion from us both, I tried glare menacingly and could already feel the increase of my heart beat, I stepped back swiftly and swung the sword over my head and forward aiming for his jugular, he quickly rebuffed, taking half a step backwards and hitting me with a flick of the sword tip and setting me off balance at a slight stumble.

I recovered quickly and we looped around each other again, I could feel his eyes raking over me as I switched the sword from hand to hand, darting from one to another teasing him with my choice. I opted for my right hand and fell back into a guarded stance the blade a few inches from my eye; I gave him a grin, almost begged him to strike.

His aim was perfection as his jumped forward swinging for my legs to immobilise me, I leapt lightly above the sword while he was bent, nicking his bicep with the Damascus and landed lightly behind him, spinning to face him. Propping myself against the sword as if the motion cost me nothing as he spun causing a slight wave of air. His eyes widened at the infliction as small droplets of scarlet liquid dropped near his feet, the wound wasn't deep although I knew it had surprised him, he ran his hand over the wound and then smeared the blood across his torso and let out a laugh. I smiled extensively and pulled the sword closer to my side, guarded and ready, without reflecting as much.

Jasper rocked from side to side and narrowed his eyes, his slate grey irises were almost invisible. As I blinked he attacked. Clanking metal and shouts filled the air as we danced around the basement, striking and hitting with force and vengeance, nifty footwork and intricate small steps to avoid the normal pitfalls of sword play and anticipated need for resolve. His feet and movements graceful, mine swift, both moving the weapons in our hands almost as light as feathers as adrenaline pulse through our veins.

I went for forced submission, pushing my weight forward to send him off balance but misjudged my reach, Jasper dodged and hooked my ankle and sent me flying on my arse, as the Leuterit scrapped across my sweat pants above my right knee, like a knife through butter. I knew that the blade had hit home, the oozing of something on my leg only highlighted it further.

Jasper stepped back and offered me a hand, I took it and annoyed at my own nature, dragged him to the floor. He landed surprised and the Leuterit reverberated against the linoleum, I rolled over on to him my knees pinning down his arms at the elbow as I placed the tip of The Damascus at his throat. 'One all' I whispered and jumped back into a standing position holding my blade, a few inches from his feet. He rolled slightly to his sword and grasped it tightly bucking up in a standing position, straightening his shoulders w

with an air of arrogance.

We circled each other ready to battle once more, his eyes blazing with anticipation and my heart beating a syncopated rhythm that ebbed in my ears, suddenly the intensity was broken by a loud sharp clap. Singular but powerful.

We turned in unison as my father stepped forward from the darkness cast near the stairs, his light brown hair and trimmed beard almost blond under the artificial lights. He wore a pair of suit trousers in grey and an un-tucked white short sleeve shirt, which would be aptly what he referred to casual wear.

Jasper gave a bow, to acknowledge his superior, I went to repeat the action but my father waved it off and gave me a smile, 'I'm very impressed Eva, your sword skills have improved.' He stepped towards me and took the Damascus from my hand and inspecting it lightly.

I flinched for attack or a test as he turned and winked at me, instead striking out at Jasper without even turning around, Jasper flinched and the Leuterit swung down to his side, a small nick below his elbow appeared and dribbled down. 'I'd like you to work on the less obvious methods of attack and defence, using weaponry and magic, your opponents may not be as gentlemanly or courteous', he looked down at me and smiled. I nodded and glanced at Jasper who gave a warm smile to signify that everything was fine. My father turned to him and tapped the Leuterit with my sword, 'Excellent work Jasper.' He tossed the sword Jasper who caught it instinctively 'Thank you'. My father headed to the stairs giving me a smile before disappearing back into the darkness.

I stood quietly, regulating my breathing as Jasper returned the weapons to their home. He gripped me by the waist a few seconds later, nestling into my shoulder with his chin. I lifted my hand and cupped his cheek, 'Now how about a bath?' he asked scooping me into an underarm lift and hauling me up the stairs, which as he is a half foot taller than me and out weighs me by more muscle that I care to think about is quiet easy.

I let out a series of giggles as we made it to the hall, placing me gently on my feet and cupped my chin in between his finger and thumb, a finger and thumb that belonged to a deadly hand, a hand which could crush a skulk. 'How about breakfast first then we clean up?' He nodded in confirmation before wandering in the kitchen.

Watching him walk away and enjoying the view, the house was still eerily quiet. I turned on my heels and headed for the study door it was already open a few inches. I knocked gently and waited for it to open further. It opened freely; my father was lent over his oak antique desk wearing reading glasses seemingly engrossed in a book, retracting his hand from the slight use of magic.

Too polite to disturb him I lightly stepped across the wooden floor and curled myself into one of the cherry brown leather armchairs, the abrasion on my leg pulling in protest but not too deep to cause much affliction.

I observed and examined the room as always. It wasn't like every stick of furniture was not familiar to me, it was a room I felt comfortable in, but it was just a habit checking for abnormalities or differences.

The box wooden panelling across the bottom half of the room was a dark chocolate brown and the light blue painted walls above set it off perfectly, making my mind acknowledge the recognizable safety I always felt within its walls.

To the left, the wall was plastered in framed family photos, certificates and achievements, to the right the wall was covered with glass cabinets shelving several hundred classical books and magical texts. The big bay window at the back of my father's desk sent gleaming rays of sun through the glass, a reflection of rainbows wavered on the wooden floor from the crystal light fitting above, a slight song starting ringing in my ears, speaking of meadows and orchards. I shook my head and blinked in surprise.

'Eva?' My father was toying with the spectacles in his hands, if he'd been talking, I hadn't heard him.

'Sorry dad, what did you say?'

'I asked if you were ok. You've gone pale' He knelt at my face, 'Maybe we should cut back on your training.' I grabbed his arm and shook my head.

'Dad you promised to let me train like the other council apprentices.'

'The other council apprentices are not my daughter, Evie.' He thumbed my cheek and smiled a thin smile, not making the laughter lines appear. He was worried. I swallowed hard and smiled back,

'Do you think I'm not up to the task Elder Collingwood?' He frowned at the formality of my address and took my hand.

'You have nothing to prove to me Evie' He patted it lightly; 'Just remember that.'

'I know, I just want to prove it to myself.' He bobbed his head and stepped back offering me his hand. 'Jasper and I are going to make some breakfast, where are Elliot and Max?' My father guided me to the door, 'Out, a little bit of council business, and they'll be back before lunch.'

Out on council business on a Sunday? That was normally unheard of, whether religious or not Sunday was considered a day of peace, when the sins and violence were washed from the previous days and the sun bought hope and vitality to a new chapter, especially in wizardry traditions. We didn't do anything on a Sunday, except eat and sleep, although my sneaky extra Sunday training sessions we never questioned.

Alarm bells were ringing in my head, either something had happened during the night or in the early morning and now someone was covering up. As if reading my thoughts my father let out a small laugh, 'don't worry it's nothing serious Evie.' I searched his eyes for a lie or hidden meaning but he looked away too quickly opening the door and stressing my exit.

I made a noise of disapproval and exited, something was going on, and I could feel it.