Chapter 7
I make my way toward the main academy building and to my first class. A whole week had already gone by since I came back.
The weekend had passed quickly after Friday's little incident.
Thankfully the majority of the students here went home during that time, what with having no classes and nothing better to do here or in town. They would travel home Friday evenings, arriving back late on Sunday before classes start back up again on Monday.
And for the few that did stay, they would either spend it studying in the library or working out in the training grounds.
I spent the majority of the weekend training or cleaning up after some petty low-grade bullying from Friday; my uniform torn and ripped in my locker, my books burnt in the courtyard and my dormitory door painted with the slur words ‘pathetic whore’ in black paint.
Scrubbing it away didn’t work with whatever paint or liquid they used, they might have even spelled it . So I painted over it, and now it's completely black. And honestly, I kind of like it.
I took the rest of the two days to train and rest properly. I’m not where I need to be just yet, but I could feel myself getting stronger. Each training session lasted longer without me out of breath and each move had slightly more strength in it than before.
I’d also been healing. Any small scratches or bruises would heal quickly, and my ability to recover from training and the muscle pain from it was much quicker as well.
I had never even thought of the possibility of that stupid charm bracelet being something so malicious. It definitely contributed to my lack of strength and inability to recover.
Another way for Seria to keep me under her shoe and physically unable to fight back.
That was another thing. Retribution for Friday's little incident would come harder in one form or another, the small petty pranks or cutting glares and words were too trivial for them.
Both Ivy and Seria wouldn’t let me off so easily. But at least with Ivy, she would try to take me head-on, enjoying the attention from whatever scene she causes.
Whereas Seria would work in the shadows and through other people, pitting them against me. Her schemes ran deep, like thin black threads spread throughout the academy. You never knew what was going on behind that fake smile or what malicious plots she planned.
Either way, whether it's Seria, Ivy or even Kane, I’m sure they’ll make a move soon enough, but this time I’ll be ready.
I make my way toward the history classroom, with even a couple of minutes to spare this time.
I watch Mr. Finch’s expression as I make my way past him and up to a seat at the back of the class.
He really didn’t like me. His lips are pursed and posture slightly rigid, his gaze dripping with contempt before he turns away, passing out sheets to each desk as more students slowly filter into the room and take their seats.
There's a few more empty spaces than last week, meaning I have a few spare spaces between me and the rest of the class.
I also notice the blue-eyed stabby guy isn't here either.
Other than a few glares from some of the students and a couple more disgruntled looks from Mr. Finch, everything goes by normally.
The bell rings, ending the class and I get up, slowly making my way toward the next class, before pausing as I realise what it is. Music of the Arts.
And Monday's lesson meant a shared class, with the second, third and fourth years.
Which meant Ivy.
And Seria.
And Kane, Xander, Knox and Anders. Fun.
I head to the class, stopping before making my way into the room and that's when I see them.
Knox’s light brown hair falls to one side, his other completely shaved, as he leans back on his seat with his feet resting on the nearest desk.
Anders creeps up beside him, a wicked grin on his lips and gleam in his green eyes as he pushes Knox forward, almost toppling him over. His blonde shoulder length hair sways side to side as he chuckles at a narrow-eyed Knox.
Knox shakes his head, catching Anders in a choke hold as they both laugh and play together. That playful nature of theirs, and warm smiles, once made me feel safe and at peace and a part of something when I had nothing and no-one.
Kane and Xander stand to the left of them, watching on and cheering. Their backs are to the door, but there's no mistaking Kane’s athletic build and brown wavy hair, or Xander’s brawny stature and tight cut black hair style.
I’m hit by a short memory from our younger days, and one before Seria’s arrival.
Large tears trickle from my small eyes as I crouch down further, curling into a small ball as I clutch my knees closer. Another sniffle sounds out around me as I wipe away more tears.
I didn’t like this day, each year it always felt too long and the looks from father and all the other adults…a cold shiver runs up my bent back.
They didn’t like me normally, and usually just ignored me, doing the bare minimum for me to exist, but on this day, every year, I could feel the anger and hate in their gazes.
The day of my birth was the day I took my mother from my father.
I killed her…that's what the servants all tell me each year. That's why father can’t bear to look at me or be around me for long…because I remind him of what I took from him. His mate.
A mate was something precious, something you only get once they say…and I killed her by being born.
Every year, on this day, I learnt it was best to hide, to find somewhere far away from everyone's gazes and words. I couldn’t take the look on their faces when they saw me, and with each year that I grew older, they grew angrier.
My stomach rumbles as I wipe another tear away, a familiar ache rolling through me as I move. I rub the empty spot, hoping the hunger pain would soon pass.
Normally someone would make me a small breakfast or snack; some porridge or a small apple. They would take it to my room and tell me to eat quietly and not bother Father.
But on this day, with their angry looks, they would whisper hurtful words if I asked for anything.
‘Food? Isn’t it nice to be alive and able to eat? Something your poor mother can’t do anymore.’
‘All you do is take, take, take. The master doesn’t deserve such a selfish brat.’
‘Food for you? I think you’ve taken enough from the master, don't you?’
‘You’re hungry? You won’t die from not eating for a day or two, will you?’
‘Don’t ask for anything today, not so much as a crumb. Something like you should live like a dead rat–’
I close my eyes tight, trying to push away the memories and cold words just as I hear a familiar voice calling my name.
“Micai?” Knox crawls in through our secret hiding spots entrance; a small man-made hole, the size big enough for a dog, or a few small kids.
It’s our little haven away from everyone, hidden by a cluster of old trees wrapped around each other and giving us cover from the rest of the forest and world.
“Are you okay, M?” Calls Anders as his blonde hair pops up behind Knox’s shoulder, followed quickly after by Kane and Xander.
“What's wrong?” Asks Kane, his small brown brows pinching together as he watches me wipe my tears away. “Was it those stupid servants again?”
Xander pushes past Kane and Anders as Knox takes the space beside me, his hand rubbing my back gently as he gives me a warm smile.
“Tell me who,” Xander kneels to my other side, “And I’ll make them pay.” His hand reaches toward my cheek, brushing the wet from there away. “No-one gets to make you cry Micai.”
“Yeah, we’ll beat em’ all up.” Laughs Anders. “No matter what the adults or anyone says to you M, you're one of us.”
“And ours,” Adds Kane, a small tint to his cheeks as he flickers his gaze to the floor.
The matching smiles and agreed hums they all give me, had butterflies taking over from the hunger pains, and had me grinning back at them.
“There's the Micai we know,” Grins Knox as he brushes a strand of hair from my face, his brown eyes twinkling as we meet. He slowly takes something from his other hand, one I didn’t even notice was behind his back, and gives it to me.
“Happy birthday, Micai.” My little heart beats faster as I take the small bunch of purple flowers from him, violets , as a small blush reddens his cheeks. “They’re almost as bright and beautiful as you are.”
“No fair man,” Groans Anders as he pushes in closer to me, handing me another small bunch of flowers, bluebells this time, “I wanted to give mine first.”
He looks at me, his small grin growing, “Happy B-day, M.”
“Yeah, yeah, nobody agreed to that.” Kane sits down beside Anders, one hand behind his back as his eyes flit between mine and the forest floor.
“We all picked them out with you in mind.” He pulls out his flowers, a bunch of baby's breath. He hands them over gently, my bouquet growing bigger as his brown eyes meet mine again. “Thank you for being born Micai.”
My eyes begin to tear up again, warmth soon trickling down my cheeks with his words.
But this time it’s from a feeling of happiness, from the warmth and comfort they always give me and make me feel.
An unconditional love from the boys who always pull me from any darkness trying to suffocate me back home.
“You made her cry Kane!” Growls Anders as he swats Kane on his shoulder. Kane quickly whips around and places Anders in a playful chokehold.
A small giggle bubbles up my throat as I watch them play.
Knox bumps me on my shoulder, his eyes flitting to Xander as he edges in closer to me. He takes out his own flowers gently, a bunch of yellow primroses and slowly hands them to me.
A warm smile stretches his lips, “We’ll always be your family, and always protect you Micai.”
I’m pulled from my memory as Kane shifts to the side, reaching for Anders as Knox gets the better of him. And there in between him and Xander, sits Seria.
A soft smile spreads across her lips as the boys around her talk and laugh. Other boys try to catch her attention in the seats around her as Xander and Kane give them cutting glares.