The Man In The Midnight Blue Suit

Chapter Twelve

The cold morning air cleanses my body and clears my head as it fills my lungs. Grass softly crunches beneath my feet. I weave through the too-perfect gardens, the mansion always close. That is the restriction, I suppose, that comes with going outside. Whenever I stray far, I feel a tug in my head. It starts small at first, just a niggling feeling that's easy to shove away. The further I am from the mansion, the stronger it gets, to the point where it physically pulls at my head, causing my ears to pop and my head to jerk backwards. I've never gone further than that. I don't like to think of what would happen if I tried to test it. So I keep close to the mansion when I'm running. Better not to push these things, I've learnt. Testing Lucian's patience is not something I want to do, Jonathan says. After what I saw at my first training, when Lucian tried to awaken my ability, I try to stay under his radar – when I can.

I went outside the mansion for the first time since my outburst in my first week – when that thing fell from the ever-so secret top floor – one morning a few weeks ago. Jonathan and I, having agreed to work together, we're going to have the breakfast that was always on the dining table in the mornings. As usual, it was a breakfast made by invisible chefs. It's funny to think that I could do that, one day, with intellectual abilities.

That morning, I had stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs. The double doors opening onto the garden were open. Wide open, not locked as they had been since I ran outside after the midnight blue object. I was hesitant, but Jonathan assured me it was fine. They'd been open for him before I came, although all other doors to the outside were still locked. I discovered the pull then. I ran into the gardens and didn't stop. Jonathan did try to warn me.

I hadn't let the pull scare me into hiding inside though. I started running every morning before I began training with Lucian or learning everything Jonathan could teach me. It was a way to clear my head. With everything that I've experienced in the last few weeks, God knows I need some way to clear my buzzing thoughts, if only for a moment.

Nearly 6 weeks. That's how long I've been here for. How long I've been trapped in this mansion. How long since I've pushed my boundaries and realized what I'm really capable of. Not knowing why I'm here kills me. I've always had a purpose, something to work towards, but here, I don't know what my goal is. For all I know, I could be honing my abilities just for Lucian's entertainment – because I doubt his intentions are charitable, considering that he lured us away from the lives we once lead. Kidnap, it could be called.

Jonathan is adamant that there is a reason for all this. Whether he wants to embrace that reason or fight it, I'm not sure. He hasn't spoken of what he whispered, in secret. Maybe we can fight it. Sometimes I think he's forgotten about the inch of hope he gave me. I don't really believe that he would. He despises Lucian, more than me. He hides it well, but I know. What he teaches me isn't for fun. It's to prepare. If Lucian knows of our study sessions, he doesn't show it. There's no way that he could know. Right? Besides, I get the feeling that to him, my brother and I are only tools to be used. He doesn't really care about us.

Every chance we get, Jonathan and I are in the library, learning all we can about these abilities and the Elites. I'll be prepared for whatever I'm here for, be it a test or some kind of task on Lucian's behalf. And when I get my chance, I will not hesitate. I will get out of here. You see, I don't take kindly to having my entire life ripped away from me.

I slow my pace, coming to a stop. The sun is still climbing its way into the sky, yet to cast light over the shadows of the gardens. As I walk through the dining room doors and up the stairs to my room, I think of my training. They are irregular, sometimes six times a week, others only two. Lucian has helped me do things I never thought possible. We started small, with movement. First, it was a flower, then a rock, and then a pile of rubble. I mastered that within two lessons. We progressed onto bigger things. Moving many things at once and coordinating it into something beautiful. The challenge is in controlling something gracefully, so seems natural, harmonious. Until the illusion is seamless. Lucian may be brutal, but he has a taste for the extravagant.