Electus (Regnum Series Book 1) (10 page)

“You keep the handkerchief, miss.” He stands and moves on. Tia is left alone on the bench. Her eyes now dry and back to normal color. She examines the handkerchief. In the corner is a symbol. It is four swirls that meet in the center to form a diamond shaped hole. Tia looks up in the direction the man started walking. He is gone.

Chapter 8

The third stage begins at five o’clock, in the arena. Tia opens the drawer marked
Day Three
. She finds a simple white pant suit with matching jacket. For this event, she applies a minimal amount of make up to highlight her features. Tia leaves her hair down, allowing it to rest, just past her shoulders. Her excitement builds up, finally, for an event.

In school, shape shifting came most natural to Tia. Everyone advised her, that she was beautiful to watch, and if she could pick any talent to present, it should be transformation. Tia always loved the craft. It is a simple, yet complex form of magic that most people overlook. For Tia, it is the perfect fit.

She arrives at the arena thirty minutes before the event commences, just as her schedule directs. This time, all of the candidates remain in one large room, set up with a screen of the stage and arena. There is a few couches lined up in the room to sit at and watch. Tia decides to relax on one end of a couch, since she knows it will be quite a while before they call her on stage.

Tia glances around at the other candidates in the room. Everyone healed fully from yesterday’s challenge. It appears no one chickened out, yet, since all the candidates are present.
Maybe Fera is right. Perhaps this is scarier looking than it actually is,
Tia ponders, moving her attention to the screen.

Since they perform alphabetically by last name, Nathan is the first to present his power. He is dressed in an all white suit, as well, which contrasts nicely against his mocha skin. He enters the stage of the arena.

“Our first candidate is Nathan Adams, demonstrating his strongest magical skill, mind infiltration.” Carmen delivers, smiling from the front of the stage. She too dons all white. It is a floor length, strapless gown that clings to her curves, then flares out at her knees. Her neck is draped with sparkling diamonds that match her stunning earrings.

Nathan stands at the front of the stage with a microphone in one hand. “Thank you, Carmen, as always you look ravishing this evening.” Carmen giggles at the slight hint of flattery. “I would like to begin by asking the audience how you are all doing this evening?” The crowd responds in cheers and whistles.

“Who from our audience wishes to join me here on stage?” Nathan seeks out to the crowd. Several people lift their hands. Nathan points to a young lady in a red dress. “You, miss, come up here.”

The lady heads to the stage. “What’s your name, Rebecca?” Nathan asks into the mic. “Oh spoiler, her name is Rebecca, folks. May I call you Becca?” She nods. “Great, here is what I am going to do.”

Nathan turns to the audience, “I’m going to ask my assistant here a series of questions. I will be blindfolded, and have the lovely Becca write down her answers on this board for you all to see.” Nathan holds up the board for the audience to be assured it is blank, then places the blindfold across his eyes. He hands the board to her and proceeds with the first question.

“What is your maternal grandfather’s middle name?” He gives the assistant a minute to think. “She is trying to remember, ladies and gents.”

The audience laughs. His assistant writes down the name
McKnight
on the board.

“Her grandfather was Gregory McKnight Daniels. Though, you will probably only see his middle name, since that is what this fine lady wrote down. Now, I want you to think, miss, of a number between one and twenty-thousand. Any number you like, between one and twenty-thousand. She’s thinking of a few, maybe you should go with the first one, I like that number.”

The assistant writes down six thirty-four on her board and shows the audience. “Six thirty-four is your number.” This continues for a few rounds. At one point he even mentions that the woman changed her answers.

“For the next part of my presentation, I require a second assistant.” He removes his blind fold and points to another volunteer from the crowd. It’s a lanky gentleman. Nathan wraps the blindfold around the assistant’s head, covering his eyes. “What is your name, Gary? Oops, I did it again.” The audience cackles. “I’m going to blind fold both of my assistants.”

Nathan then, grabs a few knives from a near by table, placing them in the man’s hands.

“I will control both of their actions.” Nathan concentrates hard on the man as he starts to juggle, not missing a beat and catching the handles perfectly in rhythm. He moves the knives to juggle between the two volunteers. Neither one cutting themselves or the other. The audience applaud at the sight of the performance. They place their knives down on the table, as Nathan directs them.

Next, he has them do a synchronized dance on stage. The audience applaud him again. “Thank you to Becca and Gary. By the way, Becca, Gary thinks you are very attractive and wants to know if you are available for dinner after. He is just too afraid to ask,” Nathan comments. Gary blushes, and the two assistants leave the stage, chatting on the way back to their seats. Nathan bows, as the next candidate arrives on stage.

Tia watches each performance intently. Out of all the events, this one is her favorite. It doesn’t involve fighting or forms of torture.
Who doesn’t enjoy a magic show,
she thinks. Mina is fourth on stage. She asks for an assistant, as well, to sit in a reclining chair.

“Mina Bellus is our next contestant. She will be demonstrating her healing powers,” Carmen announces.

Mina waves and walks around, behind the assistant, with a large blade. With a small twirl, she dances beside the assistant, then comes up behind him. Mina gently kisses his cheek and slits his throat.

The audience gasps, in horror, as blood gushes from the gentleman’s neck. Mina quickly starts to work. She places her stubby fingers, gently, over the man’s neck, chanting incantations. Bright light shines through her fingertips and the slit starts to seal, the blood climbing back up into the hole.

Veins of light, wrapped around her hands and wrists, crawl up her arms now. Mina continues to chant louder, as she moves her hands across the man’s throat. The arena shakes. Mina is screaming her incantations. The electric goes out in the arena. Light is bursting all around her and the man on stage, and they are barely visible, due to the glare.

Finally, Mina’s voice dies down to a whisper, and the ground is still again. The over head lights turn on, once more. She removes her hands from his neck where there is no longer a cut or even a scar. The audience applaud her. She curtseys and smiles, then blows her signature kiss.

“I always knew Mina was a cut throat bitch,” Quade jokes. He startles Tia, who just realizes he is behind her.

She works up a smile, unsure of what to say.

“You, um...nervous at all?” Quade asks, trying to break the tension.

Tia just shrugs, “I enjoy this part, so I will just focus on what I do best and ignore everything else.” Her anger with Quade has yet to fade. She stares at the screen. He remains still, ever present behind her. All she wants is for him to leave.

“Yeah,” Quade opens his mouth as though he is about to say something else.

“Isn’t Kira wondering where you are at?” she snaps. He walks back over to Kira, and places his arm around her waist. Tia feels a hot tear slide down her cheek, then rapidly wipes it off.

The demonstrations continue for another hour before it is Quade’s turn.

“Our next candidate is Quade Tendo, demonstrating Potion Mastery.” The audience applaud him, as he enters the stage. “I wish to call a member of the audience to assist me this evening. Yes, sir, you will do.” Quade points to a short man with white hair, the man from the restaurant and outside the hotel. While the old man heads up to the stage, Quade wheels out a table with several bottles lined up on it.

Tia watches more intently. Quade shakes the man’s hand, then picks up a microphone.

“These are all samples of various potions I developed while at school. The first bottle, here, holds the cure for any vicious bite imaginable. To demonstrate this, my assistant will bring out a random animal to attack my arm. Just off the side of the stage there, sir, should be a cage. Could you retrieve it for me? While my assistant fetches that for me, I would like to inform you all that the animal chosen tonight was picked at random by the Capitol, upon my request, for this demonstration.”

The old man walks, ever so quietly, over to the one end of the stage. He then enters again, carrying a cage with a crabsnake inside.

“Ah, a very poisonous creature indeed. I will now allow the crabsnake to bite me.” Quade sets down the microphone and approaches the cage. He places his arm inside, tempting the creature. Nothing happens.

The crabsnake is long and slender, with a hard shell. It remains still. Quade glances at his assistant. In a split second, the crabsnake latches on to Quade’s arm. He lets out a cry of pain, and mumbles some curse words. The audience gasps.

His assistant pulls the crabsnake off Quade’s arm and he retracts his hand from the cage, allowing the assistant to place the cover back on. “Thank you, sir. Could you do me a favor and pick up the bottle labelled
Bite Me
?” Quade inquires. The old man then rushes over to the table, grabbing the bottle.

“Thank you,” Quade replies, as the assistant applies the entire bottle on to the bite. Before the audience’s eyes, the indents disappear, with venom pouring out of the wound, completely sealing up.

The audience applaud Quade, and he picks up the mic again. “My next creation is a formula used to take on the physical features of any creature you touch. For this demonstration, I require a few more assistants.”

Quade chooses two more people from the audience. Quade drinks the entire bottle labeled
Ain’t Me
, then approaches the old man, grabbing him by the arm. Quade instantly shrinks down to his size, his hair greying rapidly. He appears exactly the same as the older gentleman, every wrinkle and line even match.

He walks over to the next assistant, a young lady about Fera’s age. He shakes her hand, suddenly slimming down to her curves. His hair grows into a long wavy texture, and his chiseled jaw softens, exactly like hers. He bats his lashes, making the audience laugh.

Finally, he moves to the man next to her, and places his hand on the man’s shoulder. Again, each feature is warped to reflect the assistant.

The audience clap once more for Quade, as he closes his eyes and morphs back into his young self. His hair tousled, like usual, and his eyes hazel, he picks up his mic. “How about a round for my assistants today.” He waves a hand toward them. They exit, leaving Quade with one last bottle.

“My final demonstration, this evening, is a disappearing serum.” Quade grabs the smallest bottle labelled
So Long
. It’s a clear liquid, it almost could be mistaken for water. He lifts the bottle into the air and slams it down on the ground.  A burst of white smoke replaces him on the stage. He is gone, and the crowd cheers. With the audience clapping, he enters the stage a moment later. They cheer louder, and some begin to whistle.

“Thank you!” he remarks into the mic and takes his bow.

While they clean up the stage from Quade’s act, Tia ambles down to the entrance of the arena. Her nerves catch up with her, being the only one without a cause for assistance or props, she worries her act will fall short of expectations.

There is a man waiting behind the stage with a scanner. Tia is used to the process from school. He waives the scanner over the back of Tia’s neck, where her mark is.

“You are all set, Miss Trumble,” he states, politely.

“Our next candidate is Conscientia Trumble, performing her ability to shape shift.” She walks out as the audience applaud, slightly less enthusiastically than for the other contestants. Tia knows the humans are less impressed by transformation. It’s a pure form of magic. If someone isn’t being injured or seduced, humans tend to lose interest.

Tia reaches the center of the stage and inhales deeply, maintaining focus. She glances at the box where they hung a purple flag, encrusted with three stars, representing the Artistry part of the Electus. Tia’s eyes are shut as she slowly twirls around stage. Starting at her finger tips, working down her arms, her entire body disperses into hundreds of blue peacock butterflies.

The butterflies flutter around the stage before approaching the center of the arena. Their wings refract the light, as each one weaves in and out of the seats in the crowd. Audience members point at them, oooing and awwing.

They are graceful, as they float back to the stage. Each butterfly fits into a spot. Collectively, they form a large creature, poised on the stage. Slowly, they halt fluttering and morph into a solid being. From the feet up, it changes color to an orange with black stripes. Tia is now a large tigress, ready to pounce.

The tigress roars and the audience claps in excitement. She leaps into the arena, landing in the dirt, where she paces for a few moments, her eyes fixed on the crowd. Without warning, Tia lunges toward the audience, causing some woman to scream and another to lose control of her bladder.

In mid-air the stripes fade and the tigress disperses into a white, fluffy cloud. It is hovering above the audience, as it darkens. The cloud glides over to the center of the arena, where it releases rain drops. At first it is a sprinkle, and people in the crowd watch carefully for something to happen. Water pours onto the dirt, producing a massive puddle. The cloud disappears with each drop.

The mud puddle is still for a moment, the audience whispers to one another, wondering what will happen next. Finally, roots stretch out in the mud, as strands of bark crawl up, intertwining. They collect, continuing to form a wallawillow tree, it’s branches swaying gently in the breeze.

Each calla lily from the branches of the tree drops to the ground, as the wind picks up. The current of air causes the branches to sway harder, back and forth, whipping one of the audience members in the face.