6. A Warninga Threat? #3
“If you’re this afraid, do it.” Fierce words leave me, yet my amber and green hues staring at him speak the opposite.
Ethan studies me, a speechless scale weighing my life.
Huffing, he relinquishes his hold around my neck and walks away. But the gold of his magic continues binding me, and my heart pounds with so much force I can see my hoodie flutter.
“Brave.” He grins over his shoulder. “Perhaps I won’t kill you yet. But know this, Kyra, there’s no place you can go where I won’t find you. You will die here by my hands. See you soon.” With a flick of his wrist, I collide against the floor, and he vanishes before my next breath.
“Kyra, wake up.”
A groan escapes me. I’m not sure if I’m dreaming, or if someone is actually standing in my room, either way, they can return later. My plans don’t involve getting up anytime soon.
“Kyra, it’s time to train. Wake up.”
Another groan states my annoyance when her voice becomes all too familiar. But my point remains. I will not move from this bed, nor covers, until I’m good and ready. Or so I think.
“Angie, what the hell! Not cool!” A blast of white energy pushes me towards the ceiling, and she stands there, smiling and waving. “Let me down.”
She gestures a bow, and in an instant, her magic stops. A yelp explodes from the furthest pit of my stomach as I hit the bed and bounce onto the floor. “You’re fucking insane.”
“Well, seeing you’re up now, I guess we can get started.
” Her smile widens and adrenaline has me standing, rushing towards her with darkened eyes.
Another second passes, and I find myself sitting on the edge of the bed, my hair in a bun, sports shirt and shorts on–some extremely soft socks encasing my toes–and a cup of iced coffee in hand.
Anger still brews as I stand, and I catch my cup from falling. “Wait. Did you use your stop magic on me?”
“Noooo, of course not. I’d never ‘stop’ you from doing anything.” Her hands make air quotation marks.
“Angie,” I warn.
“Fine. I ‘stopped’ you from wasting more time. While you statically lingered in nothing but your underwear, I dressed you. Noticing you may want a drink, I prepared a cold beverage, but your hair shrouded your face, and we didn’t want it getting into it, now did we?
” She pauses, raising a brow, but doesn’t offer me time to answer.
“That’s why it’s in a puffy bun. By the way, your hair is so soft.
It’s like touching a thick cloud…” she trails off.
“You did all this in a second?”
“More like fifteen minutes. Your hair is quite stubborn.” She shrugs.
*Sigh* Although it’s a half-assed gesture, I can’t remain upset. After all, she did complete a few tasks off my morning list, on top of making me coffee. Or at least I think it’s coffee. Bottom line, I’ll count it as a win.
“We can start, but on one condition. You’re never touching my hair again. Agreed?” Peeking over the cup for confirmation, I watch her return a look as if to press for more, but caves upon seeing I’m not wavering.
“I’ll agree for now, but best friends do each other’s hair. So, we can revisit this later.” Her voice lessens as she embarks into the living area.
Ignoring Angie’s suggested response, I sulk after her. I thought it was a small distance from my room, but with how massive this dorm is, it makes me feel more like I’m sauntering down the aisle on my wedding day.
Memories torment me of last night’s endeavors, and I want to tell Angie, but what can she do? After all, they’re dating, and I doubt she’ll pick me over him. This is my secret to bear. At least for now. Thus, learning everything required to pass the Awakening and trials is crucial.
“There’s no place I can’t find you.” His words linger, fueling my urgency to focus.
I find her placing an abundance of items on my work desk. “What’s this you brought with you?”
“Just a few essentials you’ll need if you plan on staying,” she says without turning away from her task. Scrolls, books, pictures, and more unidentifiable objects clutter the desk.
“Yep, this seems like a cult initiation study,” I joke, yawning from being awakened this early. “What’s next, a skull cup you’ll force me to drink from?” I chuckle at my own joke.
“Since you mentioned it, hold on.”
“Angie, no. I was joking. There better not be a skull in your bag.” She rummages through her items, and I retreat a few paces. She’s not kidding.
She pulls out a cute, little mug, resembling a skull, and I almost lose it. This girl is insane with a sense of humor to match.
“It’s cute, right? Now I want some…what do you call it, iced coffee. And see, mine has a cute little face on it.” We share a laugh, and she begins making a cup for herself.
“It’s funny how this place doesn’t have a kitchen, but there’s a bar. There’s no eating, yet drinking is within your wheelhouse?”
“You’ll see. It’ll all make sense later, trust me. Coming from someone who’s never had a drink before attending this Academy, you’ll need one from time to time.”
I retrieve an additional chair from the living area and place it beside mine. As I look more into the sprawled items over the desk, a specific book beckons my attention. Red lettering is raised against the midnight background.
“ Gods of Order, what’s this?” I yawn again.
“Save it for after the Awakening. It goes more into detail about the first-born fays, how their magic was passed down, and helps with understanding the order you’ll receive.”
“Speaking of fays, what’s that anyway?”
“Hmm. Let’s see.” Angie takes an everlasting sip, and I patiently wait. But one sip turns into two, then three, then four…
“Hello!” I interrupt before she makes it to sip number five.
“Wow, this is so good.” Her eyes sparkle. “You drink these every day? Why haven’t I tried this before?” I’m not sure if she’s asking me or her mug, based on her blank expression as she stares into it.
“Hold on, when did I get iced coffee?” The realization hits that she was able to make this without any prior knowledge. “We haven’t visited a store, nor did I mention it, so how’d you make this if it is your first time trying it?”
“About that. This beverage is just like any other. A few ingredients here, a few there, and boom–a delicious concoction. Plus, remember when I found you deceased and brought you back to life?” Angie states between sips.
“Deceased? Unconscious maybe, otherwise, how am I standing here now with all my memories?”
“Because I brought you back to life, silly, and your life force wasn’t too far in the past. Hence your memories.
But that’s not important. Stay focused, Kyra.
” She shakes her head. “While searching for your life essence, I stumbled back through time a bit and saw you pouring a cup. It stuck with me, figuring you’d like to have it. ”
“No ma’am, we’re not skipping past any of that. Explain.”
“Another time. My point is, we have iced coffee.” Her smile reaches her eyes, and there is no room to argue.
“Fine, you don’t have to tell me now, but you will tell me. As for going through my memories, what else did you see?”
“Just you in your cute, little place, drinking this. But I couldn’t watch for long, having to bring you back and all.” She continues grinning as if nothing is wrong with anything previously stated.
“Because that’s not borderline creepy,” I chuckle. “Can we return to the topic at hand, please?”
“Right. You were asking about fay.”
Angie proceeds to inform me how fay, or fata, is Latin for the English word fae, or ‘the fates,’ meaning, fairies. However, fairies are depicted as being cute and cuddly, whereas fays are a pinch darker. They’ll kill and destroy for the ones they love. Fairies won’t.
It somewhat makes sense.
“Is everyone here a fay?”
“Yep. We all have a form of magic passed down by the first-borns.” *Sip* “But there’s an order of ranking.” *Sip* “We’re not all equal in terms of magic or magic levels. You’ll learn more about it later.” *Sip*
“Sure, but you should slow down on drinking so much, or we won’t have any left.”
“Pish-posh. We have plenty. And if we run out…” Angie flicks her wrist. “We can always get more.” She summons a sigil, and a bottle of cold brew coffee appears.
“Where–”
“I know, let’s go over the trials, which come after. And before you ask, we’ll discuss the Awakening as time drifts closer.” She stands, jittery from the onslaught of caffeine, and begins rearranging my living-room.
Angie clears an area, pushing back my sofas, coffee table, and reading lamps while humming what sounds like Monsters’ by Ruelle.
An interesting choice. She waves me over, and curiosity guides me to stand before her with my back facing the imposing window.
Her twisted expression is highlighted by the moon’s glow.
“Okay, now I want you to hit me as hard as you can.”
Taken aback, confusion guides my tongue. “Excuse me, do what now?” Has she gone insane? How much coffee did she drink?
“Strike me. To gauge your strength, I first need to establish a baseline.” Yep, she’s insane.
“I’m not hitting you. Why the hell would I do that?” Ending this charade, I walk past the pure insanity, which is her.
“If you intend on passing our trials, you will,” she voices, moving forward, now staring out the window.
“What does this have to do with your trials?”
“Everything, Kyra. The Awakening is one part, but our trials decide your worth within the chosen House. You’re required to fight the House Leader hand to hand, and since we haven’t the slightest clue of what you’ll be gifted, nor your order, this is your best shot for now.
Trepidation consumes me, and Ethan re-enters my mind. How was his fight against his House Leader? Did he win or just survive? And what about Angie?
“Are you sure there’s no other way? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Eagerness greets me when she turns. “I’m not worried about being hurt. Healer, remember?” She proudly points at herself.
“Okay, but remember you asked for this.” Little does she know, years of martial arts have trained me for such occasions. We meet in the center, face to face, and Angie stretches her arms out. Vulnerable. “What are you doing now?”
“Waiting for you to strike me. As you mortals say, dealer’s choice. Just make it count.”
My eyes roll. “Fine.” I gaze over her body in search of a non-critical spot and strike her shoulder with half effort.
“You can’t be serious,” Angie tsks. “If that’s all you can offer, I should send you back myself. Either take this in earnest or go home. You’ll die here.” She folds her arms with disappointment, and Ethan’s threats continue haunting me even in his absence.
“I’m not weak.” Pressure and heat build into my palms.
“Then prove…” In haste, my fist finds the soft part of her cheek with full force, snapping her head back, and a *pop* rings out.
“By the Gods, Kyra. I didn’t say that hard.
” She muffles a cry with her hands covering her face, and my heart shatters.
I struck Angie out of pure rage without holding back.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Panicking with regret trembling my hands, I try assessing the damage when she explodes into laughter, grinning and wiping away the blood.
“Damn girl, you pack a punch. I retract my previous statement. You’ll do fine here,” she titters.
Pride swells from her recognition. “Told you I wasn’t weak, but we’re not doing this again. I could have hurt you.”
“You will. Tomorrow and the day after, until the trials. We’ll study and train,” she rebuts, walking over to the window. “Honestly, I’m fine. There are things in this world capable of hitting much harder. ”
We spend our remaining time going over materials in preparation.
Including key points pertaining to the Awakening, and the technicality of it all.
Before long, time has escaped us, and the stars glow engulfs my entire room.
Amidst our many conversations, we organize the living area back to its original form and enjoy a few more cups of cold brew–or should I say, she does.
“By the way, what time is it? I feel like the moon has been up far too long,” I ask, gazing over its beautiful, large orb and the stars surrounding it.
She maneuvers to my side. “Two in the morning, I’d say.”
“Wait, when you showed up, I thought it was early morning. I felt like I was asleep for hours.”
“Slower time, remember. Here, magic affects everything, and our days are slower than in the mortal realm. The longer you reside here, the more your body will adjust.”
“So you keep saying without offering an explanation,” I sigh, cutting my stare to hers.
“Magic, bestie. Magic.” What I’m getting accustomed to is her being terrible at explaining things. “It’s late. I’ll head to my room and recover from being brutally attacked. When you’re free, read over the book sitting on your bed. There’s little doubt you’re a fay now.”
Narrowing my eyes at her sarcasm, I return the gesture when she embraces me with a warm hug.
They’re always warm. I squeeze, saying “Good night,” and she summons her white sigil.
Stepping into it, Angie winks then vanishes, and I watch her sigil fade in amazement.
What I wouldn’t give for just a small drop of her magic.
“Please, let me be a fay.”