19. New friend unlocked
New friend unlocked
KYRA
Alise and I leave Ethan’s little fight group battered and bruised. Or maybe, I alone, did a piss poor job at avoiding his strikes. She is drenched in sweat but wears a look that screams ‘great workout.’ I, on the other hand, am struggling not to vomit my lungs. Regardless, fuck him.
Conflict stirs within me at the last few minutes of our match, and I space out in deep thought. The pain in my stomach numbs as the surrounding noise mutes. He was going to kill me for sure this time. Or at the bare minimum, he was contemplating it.
But something dark hides in those bright, golden-red orbs, lying dormant and caged. While he hovered on top of me, familiarity pulled me under the weight of his tide. I felt his pain. Mournful…Empty .
Unable to swim my way out, I dove deeper and found Hesitancy…Intimidation…Mistrust .
It wasn’t until my urge to live took hold and ignited a fleeting ember, that I was able to flip him over. I felt more than my body pressed against his rigid frame. Staring back into his eyes showed Uncertainty…Salvation .
One of us will become the other’s source of immense pain, and soon after, Death will follow.
“Hey, Kyra, are you okay?” Alise asks, yanking me from the hollowness of my thoughts. Only now do I realize the gravity of what I felt staring at him. And I’m taking it all to the grave. One way or another.
“Yeah, just tired,” I chuckle to keep this ordeal with Ethan from ruining my day. “How’d your match go?” I ask, nudging her shoulder with mine.
“Fine for me, but a bit more intense for others. Like Ryan stated, we normally spar for about twenty minutes, so I’m sure their magic was pushing to its breaking point. Just glad no one was hurt,” she titters.
“It’s my fault he was acting dick-ish. Sorry about that,” I apologize, knowing they were on the receiving end of his hatred towards me.
I sigh, continuing down the immaculate path guiding us.
Angie disclosed their time moves much slower–two mortal days equals one of theirs.
Currently, I’m feeling how true that is.
We walk along a smooth dirt path, rimmed with flowers seeming to have blossomed only yesterday, and all I want is to lie down and nap.
With their sun raised high and a mellow breeze, I’m halfway ready to do it.
“Don’t apologize for him. It’s not like the two of you are dating, you know.” Curiosity tugs her bubblegum pink eyes in my direction, and she halts. “Unless?”
I whip around, picking up the hint. “Hell no. I’d sleep with rock guy before ever considering a relationship with Ethan. Eww.” I shudder at my own sentiments. The decree is factual with a few lies embedded, and Ethan proves everyday why I should hate him, but my eyes remain unbiased.
“Good. You can do better, and I still haven’t heard the full story of rock guy,” she laughs, her pace finding mine.
“It’s such an embarrassing story. For him that is.” I return a chuckle of my own. It takes all but three minutes to update her about that unfortunate part of my days starting here, and Alise is in stitches over it.
“You’re telling me he broke into your room, swinging his…
what did you call it, ‘extended appendage?’ Making it bounce around like a bunny?
” She wipes a few falling tears after using her arm to mimic the action.
My arms fold across my chest with an escaping snicker and half lifted smirk.
“Here I am thinking I have it worse with Zack and his group of dumbasses. I stand corrected,” she says, ending her laugh-a-thon.
We approach the White Wing’s entrance, and Alise stops, all sense of playfulness cast aside and replaced by an inquisitive disposition. She scans over me with wonder, biting the corners of her lips and twiddling her thumbs.
“What’s wrong?”
Pushing her glasses further upon her nose, framing those buttered pecan freckles spanning across her cheeks, Alise huffs.
Aside from the sweat, she is quite the catch with her hair cut into a bob.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear reveals its pointed tip.
I damn near choke on a gulp. She’s an elf. A blood elf.
It takes everything in me to force down my rising fear.
Thanks to Angie and her books, I read a brief summary on them.
A secretive race, cute and shy, but when pushed into a corner, they become some of the fiercest beings.
It went on, stating how their torture tactics are unrivaled and used for interrogation.
“Can I ask you a question, and it’s okay if you’re against answ–”
“You can ask me whatever you want,” I blurt, tossing my fear to the wind. Those ears make her more adorable, and I can only surmise the more adorable her kind is, the deadlier. And fuck me, Alise has cuteness in the bag.
“Your next lesson, is it with Caspian?”
I ponder for a moment, retrieving my phone and thinking back before Horus kidnapped me with his dimples. “Which class is that? My schedule only mentions the lesson’s name. ”
“It should be, ‘Bonds and History of Fay.’”
“Ahh. No, that’s after the one I’m headed to. ‘Spells and Incantations.’” Storing my phone away, I ask, “Why? Should I be worried about him?” She gazes down, re-tucking the loose strand behind her ear. “Shit, don’t tell me he’s a hard ass.”
“No, nothing like that. I’m only asking–”
“Wait, he must be one of those professors who flirts with their students. Alise, I’m telling you now, I’m not above punching a teacher in the cock if they get handsy.
” I clench my fist as a wave of heat races down my back, churning my stomach at the thought of being touched by a complete stranger. I’m past those days.
“By the Gods, no. He’s not like that. I asked, hoping our classes were by each other.
No need going anywhere near his…” Her tone softens, and a deep pink speckles her cheeks.
“Cock.” She fumbles her hands down her shirt like she is trying to rid any wrinkles from forming, possibly anxious from muttering the word.
“It’s okay; you can say it out loud. Cock, cock, cockity cock!” I shout it as though I’m trying to summon one.
A passerby catches my rant and tosses us a rather displeased look. Laughter erupts, and Alise escapes into the White Wing with me hot on her trail. Giggles ricochet off the walls, and I avoid bumping into a few students who appear enraged with our child-like behavior. Fuck-em.
“You’re insane; you know that?” she blurts around her laughter, coming to a stop and leaning against the wall.
My pace slows until I stand beside her, perceiving how there isn’t a single door spanning down this hall. Only windows. I see another student turn the corner, heading our way, and out of nowhere, one manifests. They enter, and as the door closes, it vanishes. What the fuck.
It’s amazing what you notice when there isn’t a six-foot, well dressed, honey-glazed slab of meat pulling your attention with his dimples. Not that I remember much about him, but still .
A cathedral ceiling keeps the hovering crystals from escaping. Their illuminating glow casts light upon the Roman and Greek carvings. Busts of Gods protrude from the walls. It’s as if they’re watching, judging with lifelike expressions.
“Umm, Kyra,” Alise calls out.
“Huh?”
“You, okay? You’ve been staring down the hall for quite a while.”
“Oh, I’m thinking about how massive this Academy is, and how everything resembles a time period long before I was born. Beautiful. Even these judging statues.” Tilting my head up, I find more.
“You should be heading into class. There’s enough time to learn about our Gods. I don’t want you getting fussed at because you decided to go sight watching.”
“It’s sightseeing,” I chuckle. “By chance, do you know who my next professor is?”
“Yep, her name is Yaz. She’s an acquired drink.
Plenty of males have found themselves in the infirmary, trying to do just that.
I think you’ll like her though.” She smiles, her cheeks lifting those thin framed glasses, and I return a genuine one of my own.
“Right there is where you’ll find her class.
I should be on my way. Text me later.” She waves in departure.
I advance where Alise pointed and witness the marble wall fading into an elegant wooden door, with etched designs of things I haven’t the slightest clue of what they mean. How I missed this kind of magic during Marcel’s class is beyond me.
With a huff, I tread inside, and the entire class goes silent. My stomach twists into a dreaded knot, and I swallow a lump of air, trying to sway my nerves.
“You’re late, Kyra. Please find a seat,” the fay upfront directs. A quick peek around shows every fay harboring hatred for me is in attendance.
Paige sits near the front by one of the large, open windows, but her glower isn’t as intense as Gina’s, who is perched on her right.
If I had to guess, I’m receiving ‘I want to murder you’ vibes, and somehow, I’m not threatened.
I’ve dealt with mean girls before, and it all ends the same, with them underestimating me.
Sitting in the back, away from everyone else, is Tish. She leans forward on her desk and delivers a smile so potent, bumps trickle down my arms. Excitement glosses her vision, and ribbons of flames twirl around her fingers. Now her, I believe will kill me.
“Kyra.” My name is spoken with an agitated tone. I face the fay upfront, displeased with my stalling. “Your seat,” she demands, motioning with her eyes, a cross between smoldering and threatening. The shade of her light green irises is hidden behind an even darker green mascara.
Curtains of silken black hair drape around her face, spiraling into soft curls that fall past her shoulders.
Her skin is flawless, perfectly tanned with a hint of glitter.
Upon further inspection, I realize it’s her.
Yasmine, Princess Jasmine and Aladdin’s daughter from the picture I created. No fucking way.