Back to Atlantis

picked up a sword to their advantage.
Violet gasped. Grabbing Yasmin’s arm, she whispered urgently, “Protect David, okay? Promise me!”
Yasmin nodded, too stunned to move.
Violet hurried off toward Princess Amanda, who was circled by a few guards. She was backing away from the fight, not being a fighter herself. However, even in the midst of terror, her face was calm.
“Yasmin!” Jon called from the other side of the room. He stood near David, who was battling an onslaught of rebels nearly by himself. The nearby nobles were cowered under a table, and weren’t much help.
Yasmin’s heart fluttered in fear for her friend and David. She ran over to them, and tried calling the mage’s sword again. This time it appeared.
Raising it high, she charged at the nearest rebel, who, instead of a gun, held a big wooden stick. Why? Maybe he thought they were in the caveman ages. The stick blocked the sword mid-swing, making Yasmin curse under her breath.
The rebel also cursed. He looked better off than the other one had, at least, not as thin, but his clothes were no better. He was also covered in some kind of oil, or grime that made him smell like last week’s lasagna.
Yasmin wrinkled her nose, trying desperately to get the smell out of her nostrils. It was in vain, because she was sure the smell would forever be burned into her brain. Shifting the grip on the sword hilt to her left hand, she kicked the rebel in the knee.
He swore and dropped the stick, which was still attached to the sword. Yasmin lifted the stick in both hands—it was heavy—and wacked the stick over the rebel’s head.
He didn’t collapse, like he did in her grand plan, but instead swore and rubbed his head. Yasmin took that opportunity to kneel him in the groin and watch him fall to the ground, protecting his private parts.
Satisfied, she shook the stick of the sword before she looked around for David. He had disarmed one of the two rebels near him, and Jon was helping.
Yasmin ran over to David, closing the last few feet between them. She was exhausted, not only because the day had been long, but because it had been very tasking too. But there was no time to rest.
David glanced at Yasmin, and a thousand emotions played across his face, too fast for her too read.
Joy filled every inch of her body, along with relief. David was alive! And even better, he looked like the David she knew, the one she loved!
“Yasmin!” Jon said, relief in his eyes too. He looked unharmed, but exhausted. Magic took a lot out of him. “Can you lend me some power?”
That she could do. Lending artists power didn’t take any sort of control over her magic, just the ability to transfer magic.
Reaching out, she grasped Jon’s sweaty hand in her callused-filled one. Concentrating, she gave him as much power as she could afford to, to keep from blacking out, then broke the connection.
Blinking the spots out of her eyes—this was hard—she heaved her sword again. More than half the rebels were either knocked out on the floor or dead, but a few nobles and servants littered the grounds as well.
“Duck!” Jon cried, his drawing pad and pencil held out in front of him like a weapon. In his hands, they were quite a deadly one.
Yasmin and David ducked, but the rest of the queen’s court was too caught up in the battle to hear.
A fog was coming out of Jon’s drawing pad. It was light gray and murky. It wasn’t see-thru exactly, but neither was it useable.
Because David and Yasmin had ducked, the fog passed over the heads. But everyone else, who hadn’t heard the warning, collapsed as they breathed in the smoke. Bodies of nobles and rebels alike littered the ballroom. Hopefully, most of them were only asleep and not dying.
Jon, while kneeling on the ground, grinned happily. “Hey, Yasmin!” he called, waving his arm in her direction.
She turned, astounded. “What the hell did you do, Jon?”
“Not much, this is just some gas to knock them out.” Jon paused. “Now that they are out, can you, you know, magic up a gust of wind or something?”
Yasmin winced as she changed her position to a more comfortable one, sitting crisscross-apple sauce. “Um, yeah, I would rather not. Can’t David?”
“I suck at elemental magic, remember?” David said, deliberately looking away from Yasmin. “And why can’t you do it?”
“Scared?” Jon teased.
“Yeah, actually, I am.” Yasmin sneaked a glance at David, but his face had become stone again.
It was like she had imagined him ever bring, well, human. “My magic’s been spinning out of control lately. I nearly killed someone today, and next time, there might not be someone to stop me. I never want to use magic again.”
“But you gave me magic,” Jon said, clearly confused. “That’s using magic right there.”
“Yasmin, as the Prince of Atlantis, I will do my best to find out why your magic has gone wonky.” David shot a glance at her.
In that one glance, she saw worry, and fear. It made her sure of one thing: that David still cared about her. She knew it in her heart. “We will work together to save the people of Atlantis.”
Yasmin rolled her eyes, nearly screaming from frustration. “Have you not heard anything?” She practically shouted at David. “I can’t save anyone! People have died, time after time, because I was weak. I am the worst mage in the history of mages, and I can’t save Atlantis!”
“You can!” David exclaimed, making her look at him through tear-filled eyes. It had been a long night. “Yasmin, you are one of the strongest people I know. You are strong, brave, and hardworking. You have a fire that burns within you, protecting those you love. But most importantly, you are kind and you really care about Atlantis. You can’t bear to see people hurt.”
He scooted over and took one of her hands in his.
David’s fingers were cold, and