Ashes of the Elite

The thirty of us make a slow procession toward Bragg's improvised earth igloo, the wind nipping at our backs and the sky streaked in the bruised colors of a dying sunset. Bragg, for all his size and bravado, walks sheepish at the front, scratching his head and glancing back at his handiwork like he's afraid someone will notice the seams in the mud. I wonder where he hails from because he does not strike me as a noble.

We're halfway to the shelter when angry voices cut through the twilight. I turn, feeling the old feeling of danger, challenge, trouble on the horizon. A knot of Luxor students is marching straight for us, their uniforms gleaming with the golden sun, faces twisted in something between indignation and exasperation. There's about a dozen of them, but it's the one in front who draws the eye: tall, classically handsome, hair the color of ripe wheat, eyes a sharp, imperious green. His jaw clenches as he shouts, his voice carrying easily over the restless grass.

"Hey! Is that shelter only for your group?" He doesn't wait for an answer before launching into a demand. "That's not fair. If you can make something like that, you should do it for everyone. We have just as much right to not freeze tonight!"

Bragg falters, his enormous shoulders hunching inward as if he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Uh... I mean, I didn't really think..."

Before he can finish, another figure slips between to stand in front of the Luxor crowd. A boy, tall and slim, with hair black as midnight and eyes the color of fresh blood. He carries himself with a grace that's almost predatory, and the gold Apophis sigil on his robe blazes in the last rays of sun. Something about his bearing cool, precise, utterly unbothered reminds me of Jasper, one of my royal trainers. Jasper was a sadist with blood manipulation they resemblance is their appearances makes me wonder if they're related.

The red eyed boy stops, his gaze settling on the Luxor leader with a flat, almost bored interest. When he speaks, his voice is uncanny too soft, too detached, as if emotion is a something he's never bothered to learn. "Why?"

The Luxor boy bristles, squaring his jaw. "Why what? Why should you help? Because everyone deserves shelter, that's why. If you can do it, you should. Simple as that."

The Apophis boy gestures lazily to Bragg, his red eyes never leaving the Luxor ringleader. "He's part of our house. He has no obligation to use his mark for anyone but us."

The Luxor student's eyes narrow, his voice sharpening to a sneer. "So what? You have an ability that can shape the earth to that extent and you're just going to let everyone else freeze? You really think the rest of us don't matter?"