20. Out of the frying pan and into…another?
Out of the frying pan and into…another?
KYRA
Tish passes by me, bumping my shoulder for a second time today.
No amount of fear will have me endure bullying, and this bitch is becoming a thorn in my ass.
She is pissed at me for no reason because Marcel didn’t appreciate her little stunt.
It makes me think she has a crush on him. Whatever, not my problem.
Standing inside the blue square, Yasmine voices, “Your time starts now,” and without warning, Tish throws up a shield, surrounding the entire mannequin with orange flames. Students back away from its intense heat, and I second the motion, feeling more like the sun itself is in this room.
“Tick-Tock, Kyra. The clock is dwindling,” Yasmine advises, pointing at the timer.
One minute and fifteen, fourteen, thirteen… Shit, what can I create to get through her shield?
Tish watches me closely. Her tangerine-orange glare calculates my next move. I don’t know what for. I’m spending too much time deliberating, still unsure how to use my magic. Then again, why not use the attack spell?
I close my eyes, embracing the bit of warmth streaming over my hands, and speak, “Impetum.” I’m afraid I mispronounced the word as a sudden group of snickering snags my attention, and I see Tish hunched over in laughter. Gina and Paige join in, followed by the entire class, minus Jace and Yasmine.
“See, she’s a fake. Mortals don’t belong here,” Gina hisses, still adapting to her new tooth.
The green numbers above are counting down…twenty, nineteen, eighteen. Shit, shit, shit. Why is it moving so fast? Calm down, there’s still time for one big attack.
I’ve practiced creating things since finding out my power, and thus far, it’s all been minute items. Regardless, I have an idea for an attack. Let’s pray it works.
Repeating the previous steps, my vision darkens, and I recite ‘impetum’ to myself. Not wanting to become a flag for failure. Heat tingles my palms, and a visualization of what I want to create manifests within my mind. Perfect.
I notice everyone’s attention is on me as a large crescent shape starts materializing above my head.
Red light gathers into a curved crystal aimed at Tish’s shield.
A tugging sensation tightens my stomach and…
*Beeeep* The timer sounds, signaling our match’s end before my ability has a chance of finishing.
She drops her shield, and my concentration breaks what magic I formed.
“Weak, I can’t wait until tomorrow. Marcel can’t save you twice,” she spits in her accent, her feet pattering past me as she swings a clump of blond hair over her shoulder. At least she didn’t bump me.
“Return to your seat, Kyra. Go over how you’ve failed and what mistakes lead to such an outcome.
Ensure they don’t happen again,” Yasmine says, shaking her head.
Disappointment from her tone leeches onto me, and I can’t help but feel it myself.
I was this close to doing something amazing. Or at least amazing to me.
Taking the walk of shame, I notice Jace pull out my chair while the remaining two students head upfront. “You’ll get her next time.” His polite smile tries hiding his sympathy for me, which crawls under my skin even more. I don’t require pity. I need to understand this power I’ve obtained.
Two minutes elapse, and Yasmine announces we are switching roles. Those on defense will now attack and so forth, continuing in the same order. Jace sets his phone up to record, then he and Gina take their positions and begin.
Not wasting a second, she launches a fire attack at the mannequin before he can shield it, and Paige cheers from the side. With another wrist flick, vines slither across the ground for a follow up attack, but her smile fades in an instant.
Jace has a waterfall roaring fully around her target as his eyebrows do an up and down motion. A snort trickles from me. Fighting back another laugh, I cheer him on. “Let’s go Jace!” Gina tosses me a look, but who gives a shit. She needs to be knocked down a peg.
Sweat drips off her brow, and she throws more fire at his shield, realizing her vines are useless. Time nears its end, and Jace remains calm. It’s an easy win.
“Come on, Gina, do something,” Paige yells.
With a few seconds left, Gina screams, blasting a fireball from her hands, targeting Jace’s head. My fists clench with a sweltering heat, and I rise in a panic, shrieking, “No!” as it collides with a resounding crash, shrouding him in a blackish smog.
Yasmine is on her post-haste, summoning a chain made of blue light, constricting Gina’s neck, hands, and ankles. Fear bleeds from her pores as she is placed upon her knees.
The smoke lifts, and Jace stands, his face covered behind a beautiful water fairy with her hands out. A sigh of relief keeps my tears from falling for a guy I don’t know, and we all celebrate with great enthusiasm. Once the fairy vanishes, he returns to his seat, puzzled, quietly sitting beside me.
“You, okay?” I strive for a ‘well done’ fist bump when a miniature sting itches my palm, and a faint red glow vanishes.
“Yeah.” He nods. “It happened so fast; I thought I was a goner. Good thing I recorded it all.” Our conversation dies out, hearing Gina struggling against her chains.
“What did I say about disobeying my rules?” Yasmine’s volume becomes primal, hovering over Gina.
“I–I didn’t mean–”
“Your target was the mannequin, not another student.” She yanks on her magical chains, and a *pop* answers back, dislocating Gina’s shoulder.
I shudder, hearing her relinquish a painful wail.
*Pop* The other falls limp with another cry of agony.
“He didn’t die. That’s good for you, but I doubt you’ll be using any more magic today.
Paige, escort your…friend to the infirmary. See she gets medical attention.”
As if nothing happened, Yasmine instructs us to proceed. No one objects, but we all watch them depart without speaking. She is brutal, yet honored her word. Damn.
Our exercise picks back up, and before long, it’s Tish’s and my turn. I’ve rehearsed the shielding spell plenty of times, and now I stand in my respective square, unsure how I’ll pull this off. Yasmine summons a two-minute clock and urges us to begin.
I raise a hand at the mannequin, announcing with conviction, “Scutum,” but nothing happens. Speaking it again and again, my results are repeated.
Tish snickers and folds her arms, not even lifting a finger to use magic. She wants to humiliate me, and despite my side of the room remaining quiet, her side cheers her on, praying for my downfall.
“Another easy win for you, Tish,” one yells.
“Show her mortals don’t belong here,” screams another.
Irritation slithers under my skin, and I peer over to Yasmine who has a, ‘what are you going to do’ brow raised. An all too familiar look. She is not doubting me, instead, demanding I silence these naysayers.
“Let’s hope this bitch is fire resistant,” one of the males babbles, blowing me a kiss as though I don’t hear him. Piece of shit. All of them.
They have made it clear, I’m not wanted here.
But what they fail to understand is I’m not here for them.
I’m not here to gain friends, to find lovers, to fall in the rhythm of their society.
No. I’m here with the sole purpose of seeking out Rosie’s true killer and ending them myself.
If I need magic for it to happen, so be it.
I’ll become the most powerful ‘bitch’ this realm has laid eyes on. Because now–now–I want to stay.
Gossip further rings out, and my irritation grows.
Doubt wrestles conviction, smothering purpose, and strangling ambition.
My own mind spirals from an overcast of insecurities.
But hidden in the back, buried under a mountain of pain, lies my…
Goals…Objectives…Desires. “DESS. Don’t ever submit or surrender. ”
My veins sting as the blood warms within my hands, changing its hue to a murky ruby-red. I can feel energy coursing through them, begging for release.
“Go ahead. Show me and everyone else how weak you are. Pretenders can’t hide behind being powerless. Furthermore, hiding behind the males you steal,” she speaks, frowning with disgust as fire now licks around her fingers.
Not this shit again. My first official day and I’m the brunt of everyone’s jokes. A mortal being slut-shamed for something they wouldn’t bat an eye over if it was anyone else, despite it all being false.
Irritation turns to anger, and my fists clench.
You want to see what I can do? Fine. Visuals of making the mannequin disappear have images dancing within my mind, and my chest pounds, blood burning beneath the skin of my hands.
Then it’s gone, the sensation, with a push of red energy. But the mannequin remains. Shit.
The whole room gasps, springing to their feet, and I frown at their reaction.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Did she really do that?” Jace marvels.
Yasmine approaches, remaining silent whilst leaning her body left and right, seeming to be inspecting something and mumbles, “I see,” before turning away. “Tish, your time’s dwindling. What’s your move?”
“How the hell am I supposed to hit it?” she rebuts .
My uncertainty grows. Can this be a prank they’re all in on? The mannequin is right there. Standing in front of me. Vulnerable.
“Did y’all see that? Has anyone seen this before?” Jace asks, wearing a broad smile, pulling my attention. He is recording, talking to those joining in live.
“Yasmine, you told us to create a shield. That’s not what she did. Kyra, should be disqualified,” Tish whines.
*Beeeep* Our match ends, and we both look to Yasmine for a verdict. “House Death receives the points for this round,” she says, giving me a slight smirk after sending yet another text.