Self Studies: The Thorns of Charbon Institute, page 14
I scrolled through what felt like hundreds of pictures students had taken of me, each with its own clever or not-so-clever caption. Someone had found a drawing of a skeleton. They’d badly photoshopped my head onto it and posted it with a poll: “Bones and well-juiced pussy, risk it? Yes or No.” It was about a 50/50 split.
Moisture blurred my vision I scrubbed my tears away, unable to stop looking at the version of me I’d not realized existed. Image after image of my overly thin, scantily clad body appeared. Even the picture Mercedes took in our dorm room had ended up on Mêler.
My stomach churned, threatening to expel my soup. The snickers and stares from my fellow students swelled in my memory. They’d all seen this. Some of them even adding to the awful collection. I paused in my scrolling. Neil Swarts had animated my profile picture, so a dick slid in and out of my cleavage. Complete with cartoon water drops.
I turned off the screen and set down my phone, refusing to cry.
“I can make all of that go away,” Ram said calmly. He licked his thin lips. “I’m sure you’re starting to understand how all of this works—the institute’s designed to test your limits and break you. To make sure everything which could go wrong does. Your mistakes will be made here, not in the real world. The Institute has set you up to fail.”
He ran his hand up my thigh under the table. I shuddered.
“Let us help you,” he purred, leaning forward. “Let me help you. I know what you need. I know how to make you scream with pleasure, but you’ll need to earn your place. In my harem, my protection is everything you could want and more.”
My breaths started coming out shorter and shorter. Closing my eyes, I focused on staying calm. Ram’s leg attempted to trap my calves under the table in some sick parody of Beryl’s motions yesterday.
I yanked my foot away, my eyes snapping open.
Ram’s dark muddy yellow-rimmed gaze met my own. “I will be your everything,” he promised.
I shuddered and looked down. A piece of bright green blemished the white surface of my bowl. I bit my lip. It wasn’t only Ram making me uncomfortable. I didn’t want one person to be my everything ever again. As if to taunt me, Damon’s warnings echoed in my head. ‘Everyone’s out to get you. Trust no one but me.’
Everyone’s out to get you. Something clicked, and my breathing instantly calmed. “This is a test. The institute’s designed to test limits, and Advisor Crowe’s my test. To prove to the world I won’t accept a new master.”
Ram’s eyebrows pinched. “Uhh, no.”
I shook my head. “Trust no one but me,” I quoted Damon out loud. “I’m me now.”
Ram sat up straighter and cracked his neck. “Uhh, yes. You are you. Your Mêler looks like a pockmarked whore. You can trust Advisor Crowe and me to fix it.”
I studied my hands. In the last two days, I’d made a lot of questionable decisions. But they’d been my decision to make.
My fingers splayed against the table as I pressed them down to keep them from shaking. “I need to think about it.” I hated the words even as they came out of my mouth, but for some reason, I couldn’t say the word no.
“She needs to think about what, Ram?”
Beryl’s voice didn’t bring me the relief I’d hoped for. The inside of Ram’s knee slid across my leg as he sat up. I flinched at the contact and studied my soup bowl.
“Life. Love. Joining my harem,” Ram responded. His chair made a grating sound against the cold stone floor as he stood. “’Till next time, Lover.”
I didn’t look away from my bowl as Ram walked away.
Moments later, Beryl slipped an arm around my shoulders. He pulled me into his chest, and I let my tears silently fall.
“Do you want to join Ram’s harem?” Beryl asked softly.
I swatted at him with my free hand.
“Do I need to kick the shit out of him? Because I will, happily.”
I shook my head. Beryl looked like he could more than handle himself in a fight, but between Ram’s bulk and the cold glint in his eyes, I doubted he’d fight fair. I didn’t want Beryl to get hurt.
“No,” I said, blinking away my tears. “I want to experience life, good or bad. I don’t want to be in the dark again.”
Beryl pulled my hood away from my face to study me. Suddenly self-conscious, I rubbed my cheeks and tried to wipe the cold sweat my interaction with Ram left on my forehead. I didn’t want to know how bad I looked.
“I’m overwhelmed,” I added quietly.
I tugged on my braid. The pain helped remind me to breathe, to stay present.
The double foghorn blared, signaling the end of lunch and warning that the next set of classes would start soon. I began to stand, but Beryl’s hand on my shoulder stopped me. “You can talk to me, Dot.”
“Let go of her,” Saffron growled.
I’d not heard him come up to the table.
Beryl gritted his teeth, his expression falling. He stood and faced Saffron. “You can’t tell me what to do, Boy Scout. You don’t even understand what’s going on.”
With Beryl distracted, I grabbed my phone and shrugged into the straps of my too-heavy bookbag. Swallowing a grunt, I hefted it onto my back and leaned forward to counterbalance the weight. A small circle of students started to form around Saffron and Beryl as the two eyed each other. Whatever their history, I didn’t want to be in the middle.
Maybe a lifetime of living for someone else brought out the fierce need for independence blooming in my chest.
Even if he fixed everything, I suddenly knew I’d never join Ram’s harem, or anyone's for that matter. No matter what my instincts told me, I refused to get lost in another person ever again.
Who was I alone? I didn’t want to be the woman on Mêler. Or the girl who cried every time Beryl put his arms around me.
The Institute judged me before I even set foot in the building. Even my advisor influenced how the world saw me. But I still didn’t feel like I knew a thing about myself. Who was Aphrodite?
My Psychology of Choice class had already started by the time Saffron caught up to me. I still stood awkwardly in front of the class when he burst through the door. He passed my paperwork to Doctor Roy before scowling at me and marching back out.
Doctor Roy didn’t bother with an introduction. He let me slip into a seat near the door and flipped on a projector before picking up his lecture.
Unlike my morning classes, most of my fellow students looked my age. The Dealership sat across the room, glaring daggers at me. I didn’t acknowledge them. It felt like everyone was looking at me, but I couldn’t tell if that was because of Mêler. I focused on Doctor Roy, trying not to think about what I couldn’t control.
My overly excitable psychiatrist’s hands moved with every word. It didn’t take me long to figure out we were in the middle of a unit on moral dilemmas. Each class would pick apart a different one.
I would’ve loved it, but I couldn’t focus. The images from Mêler spun in my brain. Despite telling myself over and over that it didn’t matter, it did. The class dragged on, and my skin started to crawl. I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on me. A chair creaked at my back, making me jerk in surprise. The light of someone’s phone caught the corner of my vision a the walls closed in around me.
A trickle of sweat ran between my shoulder blades, and I used my sleeve to mop my forehead. Although I didn’t want to, I peeled off my hoodie. Prickles of static shockeded me, making my hair stand on end. Something grabbed my leg, and I yelped, shooting out of my seat.
“Aphrodite, what are you doing?” Doctor Roy asked.
I took deep breaths, glancing down at my normal leg. The walls suddenly didn’t seem to close anymore. The sound of phones taking pictures replaced my answer. A few students laughed while others looked at me skeptically.
Doctor Roy stomped his foot. “Childish behavior!” The class quieted, though giggles and whispers lingered. “Remember what it was like when you first arrived and attempt to put yourself in Aphrodite’s shoes instead of pestering her. I might not be able to sense when you’re using magic, but if I catch any of your funny hand motions, I will remove you from class.”
Embarrassed, I sat back down and hissed as the seat’s metal burned the back of my legs.
The young man next to me grinned. “I can cool that seat down for you, give you some relief from the heat. For a price.”
My memories mixed with the present and the steel of the woman’s knife slid into my mouth. I started panting and pushed the memory away. The slightly greasy, black-haired mage in front of me didn’t sound anything like the gruff voice of my attacker.
The heat of the chair blazed. I took a measured breath and forced myself not to panic. There had to be a simple solution. If the chair was too hot, I needed to sit elsewhere.
I slid out of my seat and dragged my bag to a spot where I could rest against the wall—the air cooling with every step. If Doctor Roy noticed, he didn’t comment or get involved. He couldn’t. Why was there a non-magical teacher here?
I chewed on my bottom lip.
Actually, thinking about it, who would choose to teach here? Professor Garnet said everyone lived on site, under at least some of the same limitations. How did anyone get in and out of such a remote location anyway? I’d seen nothing but tundra on my walk that very first day.
Eventually, I cooled enough to slip my hoodie back on and focus on the lecture.
When the foghorn blared, almost every student gestured. Interdimensional pockets opened, filling with supplies. With my new books for this class adding more weight to my bag, I couldn’t lift it. At least, not off the floor. I half expected the cloth to rip as I dragged it behind me.
Not that he had to look hard, but Saffron spied me as I made my way back into the hall. He narrowed his eyes at my bag before wordlessly moving to my side and slowing to match my pace.
Moments later, Mercedes’s giggle came up on his other side. “Where’s your little pet off to next?”
I kept my gaze on the floor.
“Advanced Metaphysics,” Saffron answered.
“With you?” Mercedes exclaimed. “Didn’t she start her day in Practical Magic Application? Like, the class that teaches kids one plus one equals two?”
Saffron sighed. “She did. I explained that this morning when you asked.”
“You did.” Mercedes gloated. “Just like you tell me everything.”
I didn’t move my gaze from the floor. Sweating and still pulling my heavy bag behind me, I focused on walking.
Her tone took on a lofty note. “And even if you hadn’t, new students are always big news. Especially when they don’t untag themselves on Mêler.”
I stiffened, suddenly aware that, apparently, I had control over something I thought I didn’t.
My bag almost hit the back of my ankles; I tugged it so hard. The holes in my introduction to this place were ridiculous. All my textbooks had tables of contents and introductions that prepared you. Everyone tossed me into chapter thirteen with nothing. And even if I got up the courage to ask questions, I didn’t know the right ones.
Anger helped me pull my useless bag along.
We slowed down at the massive foyer at the front. With the sound of students bouncing around the ample space, I thankfully didn’t have to hear the Greek God and my bitchy roommate’s kiss before Mercedes sauntered off.
Saffron motioned me toward a sun-lit doorway. “Keep walking.” He gently pressed against my lower back. “It’s outside and to the left.”
My nostrils flared. I both wanted to smack his hand away and lean into the support at the same time. Instead of doing either, I leaned forward to give my bag another pull.
Saffron stopped me. “You’ve got to put some muscles on. No one’s going to carry your bookbag for you.”
I dropped the strap of the bookbag, my back going rigid. Even with no experience with fitness or anything remotely athletic, I understood that muscles didn’t grow because you wanted them to. I clamped my mouth shut and clenched one of my fists.
Saffron gestured to my bookbag, and I bit my lips so hard it hurt. Slowly, I squatted down and got the two straps mostly over my shoulders. Even lifting with my legs, the thing didn’t budge. I let go of it and angrily grabbed one of the straps, dragging it once more.
Despite his words, I only got a few more feet before Saffron put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me. Taking the straps out of my hands with a disappointed sigh, he tried to lift the bag with one arm. Only the bag didn’t move.
I did a little happy dance as he readjusted his grip. My jig ended when he easily lifted it the second time and settled the bag against his muscular back.
“It’s heavier than I expected,” Saffron admitted.
He opened his mouth to ask a question but shut it. Once again, I fell into line behind him as we exited the main entrance.
Warm fresh air hit my face. I paused to breathe it in. I still hated Mercedes, but maybe running in the mornings would be an excellent way to start my day too. It was something I’d never done before.
“Keep walking,” Saffron reminded me.
I scowled but followed him around the back of the Institute. A large, smooth concrete dome I’d not noticed before looked to be growing out of the dirt-packed ground.
“This is called the Sphérique,” Saffron explained, pointing at the dome. “The lockers are free; just don’t forget your combination.”
Saffron shoved my bag into a locker in a wooden shed built off the side of the small arched entrance. My shoes and phone joined my bag. As we entered, magic curled around my feet, cleaning them. Out of place desire traveled up my legs. I wiggled my toes in my socks and peered down at my feet. Under them, familiar symbols covered the floor and kept going.
I gasped in awe and turned a circle, taking in the space. Dizzying spirals of runes covered every surface. My little brain lit up with joy as patterns, familiar and new, surrounded me. I traced the swirling lines of a containment spell, inlaid with silver that went up the walls. Leaning back to look up, it morphed into two more designs circling the ceiling. Unlike the sunlight and track lighting inside the main building, charged runes steadily glowed a light blue on the walls.
A familiar face filled my view. I squeaked, falling backward, and Professor Garnet caught me in his arms. His red-rims glowed with only his power while his brown hair lay neatly on his head. He’d gotten rid of my magic. Despite no longer being connected, my pulse still quickened, and heat pooled between my legs.
The professor righted me and made sure I was stable before stepping back. “Incredible, isn’t it?”
I didn’t trust myself to do anything but nod, still looking at his eyes instead of the room. Professor Garnet smiled as he turned to the rest of his students.
Unlike me, his attraction seemed to have exited with my power. I swallowed my disappointment.
Ram appeared in my view. I cringed, pulling away from him as he mouthed the word ‘lover.’
My gut soured. I hurried away from him, resting my back against the wall to take in everything at once.
Five mages, including Saffron and Ram, stood around chatting and occasionally glancing at me. I tried not to squirm under their scrutiny.
They were all my age, if not a little older. Something set them apart from the other students I’d seen. I searched for the difference, my gaze landing on Professor Garnet before it clicked. Raw power. Their magic put them a step above the other students. Confident postures, bordering on ego, settled on their shoulders. I let myself sink into a light mage-trance. Like Professor Garnet, I could trace their physical forms in their swirling lines of magic. Even Ram, to my disappointment.
Professor Garnet clapped his hands together. “Great, we’re all here.” He raised his voice enough to be heard above the light chatter. Reluctantly, I left my wall and gathered with the others in the center. “We have a new student joining us. Aphrodite’s still learning to access her magic. She has a lot to learn but even more to offer.”
I narrowed my eyes. What did he mean by that? Was it a warning? Or an inside joke? The students around me shifted uneasily. I did as well, wishing I could see inside the professor’s mind.
“I suggest you refrain from judging,” Professor Garnet continued. “The self-righteous scream judgments at a world they’ve not taken the time to understand.” His lips tweaked. “Aphy, you’re in the center today.”
He pointed to a rune dead center in the room.
“Professor, are you sure….” Saffron started to ask, but Professor Garnet cut him off with a gesture.
I slowly padded to the center and sat cross-legged on the rune for ‘spirit.’ The circle reformed, including Professor Garnet, to surround me. Each mage radiated their power.
“You told me you couldn’t use magic,” Professor Garnet began.
I glanced around at my fellow students. Behind me, Ram licked his lips. I quickly faced forward again and pulled on my braid.
“You told me you’re a vessel to be used,” Professor Garnet continued. I swallowed, my stomach sinking. “As you’re learning in Practical Magic Application, magic is energy, but magic is also creativity. Non-magical people define Metaphysics as an abstract theory with no basis in reality. Magic is that basis. As you already know, energy is created when you rub your hands together, but it’s also created when you think. When you imagine. Look at me.”
I met his intense gaze.
“What’s your fantasy, Aphy?”
My mind went blank. No one moved.
After a few moments, Professor Garnet nodded. “You don’t have one.”
I flinched. I didn’t. I didn’t have anything.
“A fantasy’s something you create for yourself,” Professor Garnet continued. “It’s a hope, a dream. For some, it’s an imaginary friend or a distant world they can escape to. What do you dream about while you sleep?”
I peeked around the circle. Although a few mages offered me a smile, most kept their expression carefully neutral to see how this turned out. Saffron included.
“You don’t know these mages,” Professor Garnet acknowledged my discomfort. “They don’t know you. You cannot live behind a wall of fear. Some of them will become your friends. Some of them will use every word you utter against you. Living is about taking risks and dealing with consequences. That’s why you’re at the Institute. So you can learn these lessons in a controlled environment.”
