The Blackened Blade, page 5
I let my body relax into the movements, letting my old routine play out over and over until I lose track of time, and all I can feel is the physical burn from my body and the sound of my own racing heart and heavy breathing in my ears.
After a while, I swipe away the sweat dripping down my face and chest as I take a minute to calm down.
I was much more out of breath and tired than I’d hoped I’d be.
It seems it might take a bit longer to get to where I needed to be. I’d have to train every night.
I grab my hoodie from the ground and throw it on quickly, the icy air catching me.
Soon it would be winter, and with it would come a few ‘fun’ events. But this time, I wouldn’t be sitting still.
I make my way out of the small clearing and back toward the academy, listening as I move through the dark forest for any footsteps or voices.
I didn't want to bump into the strange guy from before.
After a few minutes of walking, the trees break and I make out the familiar shape of the academy and the dormitory building.
I quickly slink into the courtyard's shadows and make my way toward the dorm's back door.
I give the door a gentle pull, only to be met with resistance.
It was locked.
Ms. Klein must have made her way to bed. I guess I had spent longer training than I had thought.
I sigh, pulling a small safety pin from my hoodie pocket and gently push it into the door's keyhole. I twist and turn the small metal pin until I hear a small click.
A grin stretches my lips as the door slowly creaks open and I make my way inside.
The moon shone through the old dorm's windows, continuing to light my way and guiding me until I reached my room.
I creep inside and flop down onto the welcoming bed, the old and worn wood creaking underneath me as my body reaches its limits for the night.
Darkness begins to take me again, this time a gentle and calming kind, and one I welcomed.
My eyes begin to close with the soft warmth surrounding me, the last words filling my head are of a familiar sweet gravelly voice calling my name.
‘Micai’.
CHAPTER 6
The sound of voices and laughter pulls me from my slumber. I open my eyes, narrowing them toward the door separating my room from the corridor, where the voices persist. I roll over, my muscles screaming for me to lay still and go back to sleep. But the ache thrumming through my body is a welcome one.
It's proof of my hard work. Of the progress I’m slowly making and of the new journey in this life I’ve decided to fight for. An ache I’ll happily accept and get used to with time.
The laughter begins to slowly fade as I drag a tired hand down my face and make my way up and toward the shower. I pull the bathroom door open, and listen to the old wood screech and creak as I enter.
I hadn’t always been in this old room, but after a few ‘pranks’ had gone wrong, the school grew tired of the clean up and decided to move me here.
The girls dorm had undergone renovations over the summer break, updating old plumbing and modernising the rooms, making them more luxurious. But my room had been left untouched, the bathroom fixtures still their original brass, complete with rust and all. The mirror was broken at its corners and the sink held a few hairline cracks.
But I guess I could understand why my room was the only one left untouched. Over the years, my tormentors had taken it upon themselves to destroy my property; that included uniforms, my pyjamas, my school books, and my room.
In my first year, they had stripped my room bare; no bed or furniture, just a single box placed in the centre of the room with all my shredded clothes and books.
In my second year, they covered my walls and floor with pig's blood, and left dead pigeon feathers all over my bed and bathroom. And how did I know they were dead?
Because I found their carcasses under my duvet cover and pillows.
But that wasn’t what finally prompted the school to move me here, to this dinky old space. It was only at the beginning of my third year, just a couple of months ago, where they let a vasbeer into my room.
The small magical rodent goes feral in enclosed spaces and ‘marks their territory’ quite fervently. Unfortunately for me, the creature's faeces is laced with toxins, and the small amount of possessions I had, had to be thrown away.
The room also had to be completely wiped and detoxified, the process apparently taking weeks, and in the meantime I was brought here. To a room, that quite literally just last year, was being used for storage. It's also less than half the size of the other girls' rooms and filled only with second hand furniture that was scratched.
The room wasn’t really the issue. It was my possessions, or what little I had of them. A few pressed flowers kept from childhood, a couple of my favourite books brought from home and a photo of my deceased mother. It was the only one I had of her, and had been burnt during the ‘cleaning process’. The school had told me there could be no exceptions, everything had to be destroyed. But it was all I had of her.
I twist the old rusting shower tap, pulling myself from my thoughts as a decent enough spray of water spurts from its head. I guess I should be glad it's working and with warm water too, a luxury compared to the Facility.
I take a step under it and let the water flow down my body, taking the edge off the ache in my muscles, and washing away the sweat and dirt I didn’t have the strength to last night.
After a few minutes and some heavy scrubbing, I step out and dry off, brushing my now shorter and easier to manage strands. Then I throw on my uniform.
I look at my reflection in the mirror as I make my way out of the bathroom, enjoying the new look I’d given myself.
Grabbing my bag, I head out of my room and down to the first floor.
A gurgling sound rolls from my stomach, a new sort of ache taking over. Right, this body was used to more than just one stale meal a day.
I make my way to the back of the main building, and to where the cafeteria sits.
This building, by far, was the most modernised out of the whole academy.
It held a huge wide open room, painted in tones of white and dove-grey. There were large white and black tables and seats placed around the space, and a large marble serving stand at the top of the room. Servers in uniforms stand behind the table, dishing out fresh food and drinks.
I make my way through the doors, the smell of fresh bread, bacon and pancakes hitting me instantly and I all but drool.
I walk past a few tables, heading toward the food as the room falls quiet. I look around to find the few small groups of students in the room looking at me, some wearing surprised looks, while others openly glare and scowl.
Ignoring them all, I make my way over to the food, every prisoner's wet dream and more being served; fresh summer fruit platters, flaky croissants, crispy bacon, eggs benedict and fluffy pancakes served with an extra helping of syrup and cream. And they were all plated by servers wearing matching black and grey uniforms.
The weary smile plastered on their faces already tells me their sick of dealing with the ungrateful pompous students of this school.
I ask for the croissant, an extra serving of bacon, and a fluffy pancake with an extra dollop of cream, ‘cause why not? Giving my thanks to the server, his eyes slightly widen before he nods and hands me an orange juice.
Making my way over to an empty table in the corner, I put my tray down. There's a few annoyed murmurs at my presence, with some pointed looks thrown my way as well. The rest openly ignore my existence, continuing whatever conversations they were having before I came.
I take my seat and begin digging in. I block them out, the fresh and delicious meal before me begging for my attention as I take my first bite. I have to suppress the loud moan that wants to leave my lips as the flakey goodness meets my tastebuds.
Whoever said you couldn’t experience heaven clearly hadn’t tasted these croissants, they were pure bundles of baked joy.
How long has it been since I had something so good and so fresh?
Six years?
Or was it even longer than that?
I don't think I truly ever enjoyed food like this, but you never truly appreciate something until it's no longer there, or taken from you.
Every meal was precious, even the small stale crumbs given.
In the Facility I’d gone days without food and had been pushed to my limits to see how long I could last. It was just small amusement for the guards, but every day without food was an agony I never wanted to experience again.
I zone everything else out, slowly enjoying every morsel of the food in front of me, savouring every crumb as if it were my last meal.
Finishing the last of my orange juice down to its final drop, I glance around the slowly filling room. The stereotypical school cliques were already forming, but the ratio of boys to girls was almost seven to one in the supernatural world, so there was always one or two girls surrounded by a larger group of boys.
A group of varsity boys pull two large tables together, loud and boisterous voices laughing and ringing out from their group as they gain the attention of two girls joining them.
At another table, a small group of three girls float mirrors above their small salad plates as they fix their hair.
Witches, always so prim and proper. And power obsessed.
They, along with the warlocks and shifters made up almost eighty percent of the supernatural population. Which also gave them an attitude of ‘The majority rules’.
I take notice of a few of the smaller groups divided up around the room, talking more quietly or eating peacefully among themselves, and ignoring the noise of the athletes in the centre. Their hair colours were more vibrant, their postures more elegant, and they seemed completely uninterested in everyone else surrounding them. They were more than likely types of fae, seers or elves who preferred their own company.
More and more students filtered into the room, taking up the remaining seats, but all steering clear of me and my table.
I take my tray back to the servers, and look toward the table in the corner where I just ate.
There didn’t seem to be anything visibly wrong with that space, so why did everyone seem to be avoiding it? Was there something I didn’t know?
And then it hits me. The cafeteria. The other students here. The isolation and bullying.
In the past, I avoided the cafeteria in my second and third year like the plague, opting for a cold sandwich in the dorms or some fruit instead. Anything to avoid them.
To avoid the cutting looks, cold words, them kicking the chairs from below me, pouring drinks on me and lacing my meals with laxatives or potions they wanted to ‘test’ out.
The cafeteria was a place of pure misery in my past, but now, with all this hot and delicious food, there's no way anyone could keep me away.
I make my way out of the cafeteria and toward my first class of the day, maybe if I was early enough I could grab a quick nap. The late night training had meant less sleep and this seventeen year old body was not accustomed to that. Even so, the training had been worth it. Even through the aches I felt different, though small, I felt a slight change in me. A small strength that was growing inside, just waiting to expand and flourish.
Maybe not wearing that bracelet for just a couple of days was already showing results. Maybe it had been stunting my physical strength and weakening me this whole time.
I grit my teeth, clenching my fists as I walk through the corridor to class.
I’ll never be that weak and naive girl again.
I’ll train every night, make my muscles and body scream with the burn until I’m brimming with the strength and power I should have always had.
A few days pass with the same routine; wake, shower, eat, go to my classes, eat again because–meals are important and heavenly–train until I collapse into bed, and then sleep again.
Other than a few snide jokes about my shorter hair, and a few people trying to trip me up, or kick my chair from under me, it was relatively peaceful. The majority opting to ignore me.
The classes were even longer and more boring than I remembered, especially Spells, Illusions and Curses.
Mrs. Bruswick was a teacher who believed in status and tradition like the rest of the student body, so me being a powerless witch with no proper backing left me at the bottom of her concern, with only scathing looks given throughout the lesson. Even then, I guess that was better than the students around her, who preferred to pretend I didn’t exist at all.
I attended every class this week except for the Defence class, which I had missed when I slept in both on Monday, and then again on Wednesday. I had a particularly gruelling training session on Tuesday night when I’d switched up my routine and added a few laps around the clearing. I couldn’t pull myself up in time for breakfast, let alone class.
I hadn’t attended the Defence class in my previous life, having been too physically weak and opting for a less active class, but this time I was genuinely looking forward to it.
The teacher, Mr. Valor, was known to have a reputation for his serious teaching and strong fighting skills. He had only joined the faculty this year and was a master of weaponry and battle strategy. And apparently he treated everyone equally and disciplined everyone regardless of status or strength fairly.
Making my way through the cafeteria doors, I head straight toward the food.
I had made it my routine as much as I could, to get a delicious breakfast and dinner here. Staying on guard with my food and learning from my previous life, I had not let my meals out of my sight for even a second. And so far, so good.
The smell of cheese hits my nose. There was freshly made lasagne, vegetable risotto and beef wellington on the dinner menu tonight.
The server gives me a small smile as I almost foam at the mouth over the delicious-looking food.
“What will it be tonight, Micai?” Grinned Finn, a friendly strawberry-blonde haired server. His bright blue eyes curve into crescents as my eyes flicker back and forth between the beef wellington and lasagne.
Finn and a few of the other servers had gotten used to my presence over the past few days. We’d even gotten into the habit of greeting and chatting from time to time. I think we bonded over our dislike of the pompous students and their snobbery in this school. That and they always gave me extra food.
I can’t not like people who feed me.
“The cheesy lasagne please.”
He chuckles and cuts me an extra large piece, handing me a bottle of water as he leans in a little closer.
“I’ll save you some Wellington if there's any spare.” He gives me a wink and goes to serve another student behind me.
I’d been training every night, strengthening my muscles and body, and needed all the extra calories I could get. So it definitely helped having connections in the kitchen.
I make my way over to my usual spot, the table always being empty. And just the way I liked it.
I didn’t usually like to stay too long during dinner time though. It became too crowded and too noisy, but today that cheesy lasagne was calling to me, and you can’t rush a meal like this.
Digging straight into the extra large portion of lasagne as the room became noisier, I glanced up, watching the tables fill up with students as classes finished for the day.
Taking another big bite of my meal, the soft and creamy pasta and tender meat pulls all my attention back to the plate in front of me.
I take a few more delicious bites, enjoying every morsel, the lasagne only half eaten, when suddenly a bright purple liquid is poured all over my plate, drenching my lasagne in the watery substance.
“You're finished now, right?” A familiar high-pitched voice calls. “So move.”
Ivy drops an empty can beside my plate, and raises a brow. A beat of silence passes as I stare at my tainted meal.
“What? Are you deaf, as well as ugly and stupid?” The group of boys around her laugh as they look down at me.
I look back down at my drenched plate, my meal now soggy and soiled by what smells faintly of grape juice.
My hand slightly shakes as I clench the fork in my hand, only seeming to incite more laughter from the group surrounding my table.
“Or did you want to continue your meal?” A mocking grin laces Ivy’s lips as she leans closer, her eyes flickering from me to the messy food in front of me.
“After all, we shouldn’t waste food, should we Micai?” She gives a figure now standing behind me a nod.
A rough hand pushes my shoulder forward, a brown haired boy nodding toward the tainted lasagne with a dark smirk on his lips. “Eat.”
He pushes my shoulder again, trying to edge me closer down toward the sloppy plate, while another boy with a blonde mohawk comes to the other side of me.
“Make sure she eats all of it since she’s so eager to stay.” He sneers.
Ivy laughs, the sound of it grating on my ears as the boys around her join in.
I look up into Ivy's curved green eyes. It wasn’t their taunts that bothered me, or even what they had done to me here before. But to ruin the meal that just a moment ago I had been happily enjoying, was intolerable. Another ‘lesson’ I learned in the Facility…every piece of food given was precious.
I grab the dripping, messy plate as they continue to chuckle, and in one swift move, drive it into the closest face to me.
Ivys.
The boys surrounding us all freeze, their eyes open wide as they watch the plate fall to the floor with a clatter. The remaining lasagne and grape juice slowly drips down Ivy's horrified face and down her newly stained uniform.
The already quiet room falls into a pin-drop silence, only a couple of whispers and stifled chuckles across the room heard as I pull myself up and slowly straighten myself. I brush some small droplets from my blazer as I glance toward Ivy.
