Heir of Empyreal Fire - Chapter 6

I was on edge for the High Council’s arrival. It felt like a hovering guillotine blade waiting to fall. It was silly to be so anxious about asking them a couple questions. Even if the Council members were traitors, they likely wouldn’t try something nefarious on this trip.

Or maybe they would. Maybe they’d string me up by my ankles and chop me to bits.

I resisted the urge to bang my head against the wall—but barely. This was why I had anxiety. There were no clear paths forward. Everything felt like a trap. And everyone seemed to want to kill me.

But in the end, it was anxiety that saved me.

Late Saturday afternoon, I had just gotten out of the shower and dressed for the day after a long morning of soccer games in which we came in second in a four-school tournament. I was buzzing with too much agitation and wanted to hit something.

So I grabbed my katanas and headed toward the barn where we’d cleared out a corner and made a makeshift practice arena. Complete with hay-stuffed dummies, an obstacle course meant to work on agility and speed, and a very worn punching bag.

The farm was quiet. My parents were helping a neighbor with planting. Seven was taking a nap. Jupiter was who knew where. And I was looking forward to some me time. Some violent me time.