The Man In The Midnight Blue Suit

Chapter Twenty-Two

When I wake from the silky bed in my apartment, no conspicuous cards greet me. Today, we will be tested in a more secretive way.

I roll over in the bed, relishing the feeling of being surrounded by pillows and blankets. Wide, floor to ceiling windows take up the majority of the wall. Soft light shines through the glass, beckoning me into the day. Outside, an elegant courtyard of stone paths and statues with green grass and tall trees stands defiantly, like something out of the Queen's own garden. I remember Tobias's winter wonderland and wonder what this stone courtyard is trying to say.

I rise from the bed, and throwing on some crumpled clothes lying on the floor, and leave the apartment. Down the white corridor I walk, the occasional metallic door the only interruption of white walls and glass floors. Bare feet run down the cold glass staircase. Once again, the corridor arches left in an elegant curve. This place changes to around where it wants us to go. Soon a pair of familiar glass doors appear. Stepping outside I find myself in a stone courtyard, the very one I saw from my window. I wonder, if Tobias was next to me, if the courtyard we saw would be the same or different. Stony white pathways loop between trees with twisting branches. On each side of the doorway, two solemn statues stand. It's a man and a woman. The statues are giant, each the size of three normal people. The woman has a long, pointy face that would give anyone a sinister expression, and long hair spilling down her back, with the top strands pulled into a twirl at the back of her head. The man has a lean build, round shoulders forming into a skinny neck and a thin face. He has a curious nose, curved over slightly as if it had been broken once. His hair is also long, and straight, sitting finely on his shoulders. Both of the statues hold their hands in front of them, cupped as if they were begging, although these two seem much too powerful to be begging. They seem like the kind of people who kick beggars in the street.

"The two Originals, they are. Don't get intimidated. Their power is exaggerated."
I whip my head around, frightened by the voice, to see Hale, leaning cockily against a tree.
"The Originals?" I repeat, trying to be cautious around the boy with a crimson flame.
"Yeah. The Originals." He walks towards me, pointing up at the two statues. It takes effort to not move away, to stay where I am. "The two seventeenth century Elites who created this competition as their legacy, to pass their abilities on. Of course, their only skill was telepathy. We've advanced since then."
"You mean the Elites have advanced since then."
Hale gives me a smirking look. "No, us. We have abilities, just like them. We are the next generation of Elites."
I stare at his prideful face, shocked. "I may have abilities as the Elites do, but I'm nothing like them. I don't ever want to be part of their fairy-tale rank."
"Suit yourself, Casey."
I hate the way he says my name. He rolls it over his tongue, says it like he has some sort of power over me. He has nothing on me. If anything, I'm the one with the upper hand.

I stand for a while, not speaking, staring at the statues. They look like Elites, with their drawn-out faces and extravagant size. Could the competition really be this ancient? A tradition carried out by Elites. A list of names flashes into my mind. Lucian's students. He must have trained them for this competition as he trained me. Perhaps they came here, wherever this is. This courtyard, explored by many before me. What happened here? Whose stories unfolded in this courtyard, that arena, these buildings?

"So this competition, it's like a tradition. It's been done many times before."
"Yes. We're not the first ones who have come here to prove their worth." He says it not resentfully, but almost in gratitude. There's something else in his voice too – something that's not quite the same as his cocky ambition. I think about asking him what he means, but keep my mouth shut. I know what it means to me.

"Wait," I say, "How do you know all this?" I turn around, looking over the area of stone paths and green trees. Hale is gone. I fleetingly wonder if I imagined him in the first place. But if there's anything I can trust, it's my own mind. I can't start doubting it now.