Awakened and Waiting

[Handy's POV]

Three days had crawled by since the city came knocking, tossing their threats at our feet like we were supposed to quake in our boots. But that clever little viper? He coiled 'round their words and squeezed 'til they were the ones left gasping.

And Rowan? Hells, that boy's scary—and he's only sixteen. Sixteen, and already got the kind of presence that makes grown men think twice. Ain't natural, that.

Most kids his age are still figuring out how to shave, but him? He moves like he's been through a lifetime of war already.

Talks like he's got the devil whisperin' in his ear, tellin' him just what to say to make folks dance to his tune.

Most our days now are spent jawin' with that rotten wench, Valerie, and makin' ready for the big fight—the one that'll decide if we're still breathin' next week.

And between you and me? I ain't sure we got what it takes to pull it off. Even knowin' what that schemin' bastard's got cookin', it don't make it feel any less like we're walkin' straight into our own graves.

And the city? Been quiet. Too quiet. Three days now, and not a damn peep.

Like the whole place is holdin' its breath, waitin' for the storm to hit. Even Rowan—cool as he likes to play it—he's feelin' the weight of it.

I can see it in the way his eyes flick to the door, the way his fingers drum against the table like he's countin' down to somethin' he can't quite see yet.

But there ain't nothin' to do but wait. Wait and hope we ain't already dead men walkin'.

I turned, takin' in the room, and what I saw near broke somethin' in me. Our afternoons Used to be filled with noise—laughter, bickerin', the clang of knifes mixed in with the smell of cookin' and sweat.

Now? Just silence. A hollow, empty shell of what we once had. Ain't no denyin' it—we ain't the same folks who started this fight. And by the time it's done, there might not be any of us left to finish it.

My gaze landed on Alicia, sittin' cross-legged on the floor, her brow furrowed in concentration as she squared off against that little rascal Elias in another round of Beasts and Bastions. The boy was grinnin' like a fox, lookin' mighty pleased with himself—probably thinkin' he had her backed into a corner. Poor fool. Alicia had a way of lullin' folks into a false sense of security before tearin' their plans to shreds.

Seein' Elias like that stirred up an old memory—the kind that stuck like a thorn no matter how many times you tried to yank it out. I remembered the moment clear as day, when Rowan lost his damn mind.

For a second there, I almost thought Elias had finally grown a spine, the way he stood up to him. Not just another nod-along puppet, too scared to speak.

He looked Rowan in the eye and didn't back down. And Rowan—well, let's just say he don't take kindly to defiance, not from anyone. 

The room had fallen into a lull, the kind that settled too easy on the bones, when a voice cut through it like a blade.

"Someone up for a light spar? You know, to keep ourselves sharp?"

Rowan. Again. The battle-crazed bastard just couldn't sit still. Ever since he awakened, it was like he had a fire burnin' under his skin, never restin', always movin'.

If he wasn't trainin', he was pullin' some reckless stunt that had the rest of us wonderin' if he even knew what the word "rest" meant.

I exhaled slow, already knowin' where this was headed. Ain't no stoppin' him when he gets like this.

For a long beat, there weren't nothin' but silence, the kinda pause that stretches thin, like a rope about to snap.

Then, sure as the sun risin', Talia pushed up from her seat, rollin' her shoulders like she'd been waitin' for this.

"Sure," she said, a slow, sharp grin spreadin' across her face. "Imma beat your ass one more time."

The way she said it, all easy-like, had a certain edge to it—half challenge, half somethin' else. The air between her and Rowan had been... strange lately.

Not my business what went down, but hell, even a blind man could see there was somethin' there.

At the sound of her acceptance, the room shifted. Chairs scraped, boots shuffled—one by one, the rest of the crew started gettin' up too, drawn in like moths to a flame.

Ain't every day you get to watch a fight between awakened, and we all knew it.

Didn't even realize I was standin' till I was already movin', followin' the others outside. Hell, I wasn't about to miss this either.

The two of 'em squared up in the small clearin' between the half-rotted houses, the ground beneath 'em cracked and uneven, pavement givin' way to weeds that had long since claimed their place. The whole damn place was fallin' apart, just like the rest of this city.

Tobias leaned in close, his voice low and full of that cocky edge he always got when he thought he had the upper hand. "Want to bet? I'll put my rations on Talia, no question."

I almost brushed him off—wasn't like I made a habit of gamblin' on things I couldn't control. But then, hell, why not? A man didn't have to be all stiff and broody all the time.

I turned to him, a slow smirk spreadin' across my face. "Sure. Just don't come cryin' to me when you got nothin' but crumbs to your name."

Rowan turned his gaze my way, sharp and expectant. "Handy, could you be the referee?"

I let out a slow exhale, scratchin' the back of my neck before noddin'. "A'right, but listen up, ya reckless bastards—no cripplin', no killin'. That clear?" I gave 'em a look, makin' sure they understood. When they didn't object, I lifted my hand. "Three... two... one—fight!"

And just like that, I stepped the hell back. No damn way I was gettin' caught between these two maniacs.

They started slow, circlin' each other like wolves testin' the air, their eyes locked, muscles coiled tight as springs.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Talia struck. She twisted on her heel and lashed out with a roundhouse kick, her boot cuttin' through the air like a blade. But Rowan? He was already movin', duckin' low, lettin' the strike whistle past his head.

Didn't waste a second neither—he went for a sweep, leg shootin' out to take her off her feet. But Talia, quick as a damn cat, hopped back just in time, landin' light on her toes.

Talia smirked, rollin' her shoulders like this was all just a warm-up. "Not bad," she mused, her tone drippin' with mock approval. Then, with a cocky tilt of her head, she added, "But you're still too damn slow, Captain."

That last word—drawled out just enough to be a tease—had Rowan's eye twitchin', but he didn't take the bait.

Instead, Talia stepped in, fast and fluid, her fist shootin' out for a quick jab. Rowan weaved just in time, slippin' past it like water. But before he could get too smug, she was already closin' in again.

Rowan threw a jab of his own, sharp and precise, but Talia was done playin' fair. Mana flared around her, invisible but hummin' in the air like a live wire.

This time, when her fist shot forward, it wasn't just a punch—it was a cannonball.

Rowan's eyes narrowed, instincts kickin' in, and he brought his arms up just in time. The impact cracked through the air like thunder, his whole damn guard bucklin' under the force. His feet skidded back, dust kickin' up around him.

Awakenin's kinda lame. All that power, but if you don't know how to use it, what's the damn point?

Talia let out an exaggerated sigh, watchin' him like a teacher dealin' with a particularly dense student. "You're not using it," she said, takin' a slow step forward. "Feel it. Move it. Shape it. Just do it, it ain't that hard!"

Her voice carried an edge of frustration, but there was somethin' else underneath—expectation. Like she knew he could do better.

He straightened, closed his eyes and started focusin, maybe tryin' to remember the feelin when he smashed that giant's skull in. I heard the full story, and Rowan's slippin, I'll say that.

Rowan exhaled slow and deep, straightening his stance, brows knit in focus. His eyes slipped shut, like he was tryin' to chase a memory—maybe the feeling of raw, unchecked power, the same force that let him smash that giant's skull in. I'd heard the whole damn story, every bloody detail, and if you asked me, Rowan was slippin'. He wasn't the same as back then.

Then, just like that, his eyes snapped open. No hesitation. No second-guessin'. He moved.

A fraction faster than before.

Talia grinned, wild and eager. "There it is, you beast!" she hollered, launching herself at him with reckless joy, like this was the moment she'd been waitin' for.

And then the fight truly began.

Punches blurred through the air, kicks cut sharp as knives, each dodge tighter, each counter sharper. They moved like a damn storm, all speed and instinct, pushin' each other harder with every clash. Dust kicked up beneath their feet, the force of their movements sendin' cracks through the worn pavement. The air thrummed with the weight of somethin' bigger than just a spar.

I tore my eyes away for a second, glancin' at Tobias.

He looked… troubled.

His jaw was tight, his fingers curled into a fist at his side. I'd seen that look before—hell, I'd worn it myself. Inferiority, swirl'n' inside like poison, the quiet kinda frustration that eats at a man when he realizes he ain't special.

I could guess what was runnin' through his head. Two slum rats, same streets, same dirt, but only one of 'em got the power.

That was the strange part, wasn't it?

Talia, I could make sense of. I'd heard the rumors—her folks were servants to those Veyra bastards, and sometimes, their servants awakened.

She had the blood for it, the kind of genes that made sense.

But Rowan?

What made him different? What made the world take a kid like him and twist him into somethin' more?

Talia moved in, fast and sure, eyes locked onto Rowan like a predator about to sink its teeth in. But she didn't see it—the smallest hitch in his stance, the bait he laid out just for her. She lunged, and in the span of a heartbeat, the trap snapped shut.

He twisted, sidesteppin' like a damn ghost, and before she could react, he had her. A sharp pivot, a sweep of his leg, and then—

Boom.

The impact echoed through the clearing as Talia hit the ground, the breath knocked clean outta her. Dust puffed up around her like a halo of defeat.

For a second, silence.

Then I turned to Tobias, slow and deliberate, feelin' a grin creep across my face. He was already lookin' away, jaw tight, like if he didn't acknowledge it, it wouldn't be real.

"Guess ye not eatin' today," I drawled, drawin' out the words just enough to twist the knife.

His glare could've burned a hole through my skull, but a bet was a bet.