18 Teen Spirit Epitomes

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Teen Spirit Epitomes

FLINT

"Careful asshat, you nearly took my head off with that!"

I regret many things at this moment. The first one is agreeing to play a sport I had no idea about. Second would be that I decided to let these three jackasses teach me. So far, they've flung me across a field with little to no explanation. Blake, who's supposed to be my teammate, handed me a tiny leather ball called a sine. Its round rough exterior is almost like pig skin stitching too tightly. At first, I thought I saw an eyeball sewn onto its side. I must be tired from the altercation with Bellwether. I didn't see a floating eyeball the rest of the game.

Apparently my role in this chaos is to protect the sine without magic. My nonexistent teammates carry the responsibility to distract the opposing team with casts and a fruitless game of cat and mouse. Everyone in the game can hex or perform magic except for the ricevilo- the holder of the sine aka me. My goal is to place it into the brewing kettle in the enemy's homebase. The winner is established if a team can manage to score three rounds. Blake mentioned that if I were able to catch the opposing team's sine, the game would be automatically over once the ricevilo places the sine into the team's kettle. All I know is that we're growing a crowd for entertainment. Pretty sure it turns mythicals on to see a human get the wind knocked out of him.

This piss-pore excuse of practice reminds me of home in some ways. At Amherst, I was the lineback during my high school career. Friday nights were filled with the epitome of teen spirit, sweat, and overpriced corndogs. Dad never missed a game. He would always say that mom hoped I'd play sports. I wonder if he meant Dybbuk. It was an honor to wear the number thirteen. It was mom's favorite. I don't remember why or if he told me to begin with. I just knew it was special.

I lived for the thrills of being the second line of defense for my team, but this is excruciating. My body is burning from every muscle as the twins use their casts to break the ground to form hurdles of hardened soil and pulled roots. I dodge their attacks and swing my body over the broken ground.

I pick up my pace from Andrew and Donnic. I need to distance myself from the ones hurdling casts at my head. Even though this isn't an actual game, the dipshits are still firing away with casts towards me. Flicks of fire and water fly over my head only to drop like rain inches from my feet. I didn't bother grabbing my old running shoes or buying cleats. My dress shoes will be ruined by the end of this. My feet can't grip the ground therefore I'm tripping over the clumps of torn field. No matter how fast I run though, Blake is faster than me. He weaves between the twins until he's in front of all of us. The dude is a beast.

"Mora, mora!" Blake shouts, waving his arms in the air to catch the twins' attention. I think he's telling us to stop. I don't know, but I notice Donnic is slowing his pace. I drag my heels into the ground to stop. Donnic stops abruptly, snatching my arm as he sticks the landing. Meanwhile, Andrew isn't so graceful. He tries to stop himself from running but fails to slow down in time. The bulky Devonni slams into the two of us, sending us to Blake's feet. The sound of blistering glass pops in my ears and I turn to see Donnic's busted glasses inches from the collision. Damn, he needs those in order to see.

The three of us unravel in front of Blake and I scoop down to pick up the snapped frames. "Sorry man, you're gonna need new glasses."

Donnic groans, swearing something vulgar under his breath. A sweet voice breaks the tension. My attention turns to my cousin. I feel someone nudge my shoulder over with the tip of their foot. "You call yourselves mythicals? That was the most pathetic round of Dybbuk I have ever had the displeasure of witnessing."

Blake laughs at Sasha's words. "We're teaching Flint the ways of Dybbuk. You're welcome to join us."

Sasha rolls her eyes and mumbles something about lynching. I think that's what she said. Can't be too sure with the ringing inside my head. She reaches for my hands and pulls Donnic's frames out. Piper is beside her within seconds and I watch as Piper mends the frame back in place. The pair looks unscathed by the crash.

"They didn't bother explaining. Just threw on some shoulder pads and handed him the sine." Piper grunted, her anger still visible. Donnic thanks her when she hands his glasses over to him. I notice Andrew twitch in annoyance. It must be hard for him to be the forgotten twin. I smile at the revelation.

"Relax, princess." Andrew mocks, "we just wanted to see how fast Flint can manage. Give him some proper cleats and he'll be a menace on the field." Piper continues to ignore him which leaves him grunting to himself in the end.

Sasha leans into Blake's shoulder, teasing him. "I think us ladies will sit this one out until you get your team together, Captain." Blake begins to say something but Sasha doesn't bother waiting to hear his reply. She straightens herself and begins walking to the benches with Piper. That's the cousin I've grown to love and know. She peers over her shoulder and flashes a bright smile to me, "you're going to tell us everything that happened in dominus after you get your ass beat, Flint. Good luck!"

This must be what it feels like when a gazelle is cornered by three lions. The guys have shifted their attention to me as if they're seeing me for the first time. Donnic doesn't bother hiding the grimace from his face. I probably look run-through after their shitty example and Bellwether's punch.

Andrew wraps his arm around my neck, roughing my hair with his knuckle. "You finally hit it from behind with the blue reaper?" I shoved him off of me. Andrew is a fool, I scoffed in return. He laughs and continues, "Lucian was right. Humans are infatuated with death. A bunch of adrenaline junkies or some shit like that!"

Blake, however, steps forwards to place his hand on my shoulder. He helps me to my feet. I'd say he's being sincere but I know the truth. Sasha is watching us from the benches. And Blake is infatuated with my cousin. "Did Verity do that to you?"

Now we're getting somewhere. I smiled at my friend and patted his shoulder. It'd make more sense if Verity was the one to blacken my eye. It'd be more fitting for her at least. Usually Donnic is the one who tries connecting the wires in his head to understand things. It's a nice change to watch Blake be genuine even if it's to impress my cousin.

"I'll tell everyone what happened after you dipshits teach me Dybbuk." I said, grinning like a fool.

"Such a cocktease." Andrew grunted, lifting his brother from the rubble. That's rich considering he's the one walking around with his waist exposed majority of the time. "Let's get this over with before it's time for grub."

They began taking turns explaining how Dybbuk works. Dybbuk starts with two teams of eleven players pinned against each other. Teammates can be identified as the offense, defense, or receiver of the sine. The hundred yard field is more of an obstacle course that each team has to weave through. With one ricevilo on each team, the magic wielding teammates have to work hard protecting their most vulnerable and valuable player as well as themselves. Nearly every spell, cast and hex is allowed; except death curses.

Each game of Dybbuk concludes once one team has scored three times or steals their opposing team's sine. The ideal way to score is to help your ricevilo reach the six yard box just before the opposing kettle. The chances of scoring are always much higher. Dybbuk starts with both teams clinging to the half-way line in the center circle. Donnic said that it's not Dybbuk unless someone leaves the arena with broken bones by the end of the first round. Whatever the hell that means. The game is starting to sound like an American-football torture course.

"Be careful with the sine," Andrew blurts out. "If someone hexes it while it's in your possession, it tends to be a flesh gremlin."

I cock my head to the side. "Hex the ball? What does that even mean?"

Andrew grabs the ball from my hands and places it in front of Donnic. "I think it's best we show you. This is how most ricevilos get hurt when they're not protected well enough or just find themselves unlucky."

Andrew gestures to his brother to cast the ball. Donnic rolls his eyes while groaning in annoyance. He flicks his wrist once, whispering something that sounded like the hiss of a snake's tongue. At first, nothing happened. The ball remained still with one eye slowly opening to peer at the world. Its curious iris studied us as if we were the most interesting thing it's seen. Then it began to roll with shakes until a multitude of eyes flooded its surface. Sharp jagged teeth ruptured its surface and the ball began nipping at the ground furiously. Bits of dark soil flew in the air from its crazed chomping. My stomach tightened at the thought of it biting into flesh. Fucking gruesome.

Once it spotted Blake's feet, it took off in a hungry daze trying to snap its opening shut on his flesh. Blake grounded himself before kicking the ball into the opposing kettle. It rolled against the rim of the metal, trying to free itself from its death. I winced at the sound of faint screaming from the abomination. Alas, the ball failed and perished into the thick smog of the goal. A bell chimed sweetly in the distance.

HOME: 01 & VISITOR: 00

"Don't suspect the smallest person on the field to be the weakest either." Donnic interjects, "the greatest strength about someone on the field deals with their capabilities of magic and speed. Paying attention can save you from losing your limbs. Most players have to use light or words in order to cast which is an advantage to block. Deadliest players are the ones that can cast with their thoughts alone. They can't be detected and are always surprising."

This game is a death wish. Bellwether must've given me brain damage. The idea of becoming a Mythicae player doesn't turn my stomach violently. Instead, it's enticing to me. I find myself craving the thought of playing a sport again. Having a team by my side and training to become stronger is everything I want at this moment. I want to wear mom's number again. I might be the first halfling in history too. "You mentioned ricevilo player can't use magic. How does that work? Is there a board that observes magic use during the game?"

The boys exchange looks before Donnic answers my question. "Great question. Back in the day, it used to be like that. But now the board uses bands to track magic uses and spells. The bands go around your wrist and monitor you during the game. It's easier to penalize teams based on their players actions or even remove someone entirely from the game."

So magical bracelets hold a great ordeal. I listened to them try to explain the complex history of cheating. Each game of Dybbuk is sealed with a magic barrier to keep the swirls of attacks inside the field as well as keeping any interference from the audience off field. Apparently Mythicae can get violent over a game of Dybbuk. That's the most believable thing about this.

The four of us spent the rest of community hour running lines of defense. Sasha cheered for Blake and I every time we blocked a hit from the Devonni twins. I can see why Blake is the Dybbuk captain. He's calm and collective on the field, never revealing his plans to his competitors. He made sure to defend me when I got clumsy or just froze. The guys show me tactics they use to "flush" out the opposing team to locate their ricevilo. As well as how to avoid being detected by the opposing team. By the end of community hour, the four of us are covered in sweat, dirt and fallen snow.

"Easy there, Mr. Dragon." Andrew says, swatting his hand after slapping my shoulder. I should be freezing by now, but surprisingly, my body is hot. Steam rolls off my shoulder from the snow.

"Sorry," I said, checking myself. "I can't control it."

Blake laughs at our encounter, "you should join us for tryouts this month. If you get the hang of things, you'll be the perfect addition to our team. We don't have our first game for another three months."

I smile at that. Maybe I'll be celebrating my eighteenth birthday as a Dybbuk player. I don't hate the idea.

Sasha and Piper hop down from the benches to join us. They weave through the broken earth-toned walls, shards of ice, and fire till they're in front of us. Sasha grimaces at the smell, "nice job, boys. You'll have to hit the showers before you go to your next course."

Andrew says something trivial- aiming his joke towards Piper who turns her nose. I've never seen Piper hold a grudge, but she's not budging. Neither of them are. It'll be tiring watching this pan out.

"Anyways," Sasha said, slinging my bag over my arm. "You've got some explaining to do."

I offer a confused look, turning my head to the side. I don't know what there is to explain. If I had to guess, Sasha has heard all the nitty-gritty details about me getting my ass kicked. It's probably spread throughout the entire campus by now.

"Our girl cut off Bellwether's arm after he punched your lights out." Sasha said a little too proudly.

I look over my shoulder to see them stunned. My roommates stand behind me with their jaws dropped. Their eyes shoot towards me, going back and forth between us. Donnic is the first to collect himself. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before clearing his throat. Blake stuffs his hands into his pocket, letting out an airy whistle. Meanwhile, I think Andrew's soul left his body. Probably floating around us questioning everything he's ever known.

"Sweet molasses," I sighed. "It's not a big deal."

This brings Andrew back to earth. He looks at me like I'm insane. "Not a big deal?" His voice grows sharper. "Verity, the girl who hates everyone but these two-" he points to an unbothered Sasha and Piper. "Cut off Bellwether's arm because he gave you a big bad boo boo? And you think it's not a big deal? You can't be that clueless, man."

Donnic ignores his brother's rambles. Andrew sulks with his arms grasping at Blake's collar. The dude is theatrical. I'll give him that. He steps closer to me in an attempt to cut off his brother. "How'd it happen?"

"Um," I don't know how to explain this shit. They're going to turn it into some rom-com chick flick malarky. So I tried explaining how it happened and what I was able to digest when Verity stepped in. I left out the parts of her comment about being a prize or insinuating we were something more than cat and mouse. I've had girls act like they were into me for personal gain, but not in an attempt to kill me. I mention that Heeler was absent for the majority of their squabble. I'm pretty sure that's why things went too far. If there was a proper instructor, not a single student would've been in the wielder room without permission. It shows the lack of respect the students have for the new professor. "Then she cut his arm off the moment Heeler decided to do his job. She cut Heeler too, but I don't think she knew he was there. They just got wrapped up in the moment. That's all. She's not into me."

"Yeah right." The three of them speak together. I look over at Sasha for help, but she's not convinced either. Fuck.

"Verity accidentally nicked Heeler?" Blake questioned. "I might believe it if it was the first day but after he brought Callum up?"

"The bastard is lucky she didn't cut his head off clean." Donnic muttered. Piper looks down at the ground. She holds a finger to her lash line. I know that look. She brushes her fingertip lightly to hide the tears. Why is she crying? I wanted to ask if she was okay, but Donnic's words pulled my attention. "Those two were inseparable. Everyone loved Callum."

"Dude was a fucking legend." Andrew grunted. "It's just surprising to us that she has made an effort to approach you without slitting your throat. After all, it was a human that killed Callum."

What the actual fuck?