CHAPTER NINETEEN
There Was No Laughter
FLINT
It's got to be a cruel joke.
They can't be serious. A human killed a high fae? That can't be possible. Right? Verity is one of the most powerful fae I've encountered, and I've heard others say Cal was greater. He was more sculpted in his magic than Verity. Heeler referred to the siblings as the Talc rein.
Oh, shit. It all makes sense now. The comment Sasha made about Verity, the fear from the other students when she's around me- it connects. The jigsaw puzzles are beginning to snap into its damned place. Building a bigger, more grime picture. Maybe the students aren't afraid of Verity after all. Maybe they're afraid of what she might do to me.
The thought sends chills down my spine. Heeler even assigned her to be my mentor. She could filet me like a bass. Oh, fuck.
Sasha places her hand on my shoulder, attempting to rein me in from my panic spell. "Nice going, dumbass. Do you spill everyone's business out there?"
I run my hand through my hair. Donnic closes the space between us as he grips my shoulder. "Hey man, just breathe. We won't let Verity hurt you."
I think I heard Andrew question this which earned a hot glare from Sasha. Knowing Donnic, I'm sure he told his brother off. But I've stopped listening to them for a while now. Piper joins Donnic's side, wiping the tears from her eyes. I've never noticed how small she is compared to me until now. She takes my hand into hers, but her words are crushed by Sasha's uproar.
"Verity would never hurt Flint," Sasha spat, jabbing Donnic's chest with her finger. "She promised to watch out for him. I know Cal's death devastated her- it still does- but that doesn't mean she's out to get Flint."
This earned a rich eye roll from Donnic who swatted her hand away, "your friend isn't who you think she is. She changed when Callum died. You can keep denying it, but everyone knows the truth. She lost the only family she had. That changes a person."
Blake remains behind them, watching uncomfortably. "Come on guys. Not here."
Sasha and Donnic disregard his existence. It's like they don't hear or see any of us anymore. The two are burning each other into the ground with their heavy glares.
"I know Ve," Sasha says. "You don't. She might suffer from her shitty family and migraines but-"
"So that's what you call it?" Donnic asks amusingly.
Sasha grinds her teeth, ignoring his question. "That doesn't mean she's a bad guy for showing she's hurting. Besides, Flint would tell me if he even had an ounce of belief that Ve or anyone was after him. He wouldn't hide that from me!"
Except that's exactly what I did. Oh, shit.
Donnic's jaw locks as Andrew grips his brother's shoulder. I know he's about to say something neither of them, Piper or Sasha, want to face. That's how Donnic is. The truth doesn't phase him.
"How could a human kill a high fae?" I blurt out.
I watch Donnic fallback, creating some much-needed distance between himself and Sasha. She turns her head to look at me. I figure I'd say something ridiculous because her angry expression melts into a puzzled one. Piper releases my hand with her eyes glued to her feet.
"I mean," my voice falters. "I've heard everyone talk about this guy in secret, but the only one brave or stupid enough to talk about him in front of Verity was Heeler. He said Cal died easily. So how does one kill a high fae? Especially without magic-"
Sasha gaps at me with a stunned look. Piper, thankfully, hooks her arm around her friend. A gruntled sound ruptures between us as Andrew drops his hands to his pockets.
"Mythicals aren't immune to death. We're all going to croak someday. Besides-" Andrew said, stretching his arms behind his head in a mischievous manner. "Everyone knows what Callum was doing. He ran off to go be with his human-lover and got caught by the big bad daddy. He should've taken some lessons from me-"
"That's not how he died."
I turn to Piper. Her words cut Andrew's cockiness into thin ribbons. He recovers quickly though. I think he's just grateful she said something to him at all. Even if she's standing before us with teary eyes and smudged mascara. To Andrew, this is probably his typical Monday. At least he didn't make her cry.
Everyone but Sasha looks intrigued. It's clear to me that even after Cal's death, his circumstances weren't revealed. The Talc fae are hellbent on never revealing their secrets- even in the grave. But here the six of us are in a busted field talking about a dead guy I never met. A corpse that seems to be haunting nearly everyone he'd met, and they still praise him. Sounds like Callum relished in pretty privilege like his sister.
"Mythicals can be wounded and killed just like humans. All it takes is a proper jive to the heart." Piper whispered. Tears streamed down her cheeks falling quietly at her feet. "He bled to death, and the person watched until his chest stopped moving. I was with Ve when she found out. Cal sent a distress signal but they were too late. He was gone hours before they arrived and-"
Sasha gripped her friend, silencing her further. Donnic nodded and sighed into his hands. The six of us dwell in Piper's words. I think she's surprised that the words formed to begin with. Sasha sighs, letting go of Piper gently before saying. "You guys should hit the showers. You got fifteen before the next class. We'll see you at dinner."
The girls left shortly after. Luckily for us, the Dybbuk stadium possesses an indoor locker room with attached showers and the coach's office. I didn't bother waiting for the guys to show me to the showers. After those three idiots flung me across a field, I'll be damned if I'm the last one to rinse off the dirt and sweat from their casts. I stripped down to nothing and chucked my attire onto a bare bench. Andrew gives a whoop before Donnic smacks his brother's arm. I think Andrew started rambling about sizes to a squeamish Donnic. Meanwhile, Blake shakes his head and heads for the showers as well.
Relief floods my senses when I step into the warm stream. I watch the caked debris fall from my hair, plucking bits of stone from the Auburn waves. After a quick rinse, I snatch a towel from a rack and head out to change in the locker room.
Andrew squabbles with himself the entire duration of the showers. Blake has to slap the back of his hand to silence Andrew when we change into our uniforms again. Donnic had casted a cleaning enchantment- which resembled the one Verity used in Dominus- while he waited for a shower. It did the trick though. Our uniforms look unscathed by the fiasco. My shoes on the other hand are clinging desperately for their leather lifeline.
Blake sits beside me on the bench as I button my shirt. I push my necklace down to hide its chain behind the shirt's collar. He picks up the defeated dress shoes and sets a repairing cast on its outsole. "It'll last for the rest of the day at least," he said with a warm smile. "I'll replace them. I forgot to tell you to get some cleats."
"Don't worry about it." I chuckle at my own words. "Knowing Sasha, she probably ordered me some before she left the field."
He smiles as if he's deeply in his thoughts. His posture softens and he appears small next to me. I've tried to ignore it, but I suppose the dragonling in me is taking effect. I've grown a foot or two since I arrived at Mythicae. I haven't noticed it much since my uniform shifts to match my growing body. But it's undeniable when I have to peer down at my friends or peers that use to be of eye level.
"Yeah," Blake sighs, running his hand over his coarse dark trimmed locks. "Sounds like something Sasha would do. I'm sorry about earlier. It's just- difficult." No shit. I've picked up on it. The sheer mention of Callum has those near either sneering or weeping. "Everyone gets worked up over the fae Prince. He was a good person."
I turn my head to observe Blake. I knew Verity was a high fae, but I just thought it meant to rank in power. There's royalty here? More importantly, there's a bloodthirsty princess who gets off on scaring and beating the shit out of everyone? Me, in particular.
Burn me alive. I'm beginning to dread this place.
"So that means Verity is-"
"Heavens no." Blake says quickly. "Verity disowned her family when Cal died. The Talc's stripped her of the title when she walked away. She would have been a princess to the west mountain regions, but she didn't want to be."
I can't wrap my head around why Verity would disregard something prompted to make her more powerful. More intimidating. "That doesn't make sense. Why would she give that up?"
"Some say it's because of Cal's death. Others go as far to say it's because she was arranged to marry Wrath. No one really knows. But I think it's both. Pretty ironic that Wrath moves on to Minns when he was supposed to purpose to Ve. They hadn't even been split for a week and he moved on. No one talks about it though."
Blake's words swim in my thoughts. Twisting into a scattered past of blatant bullshit and loss I'm desperately trying to line up. The shithead has the nerve to voice his opinion on Verity after they've been broken up for years. Why is Wrath hellbent on torching my ass anyways? He should know Verity better than anyone.
Andrew waltzed into the locker room with a towel over his beloved hair. No towel for his waist as he approaches his locker. He turns to us, removing the towel from his damp hair. "What's got you two shitbricks down? We gotta head out or Grimm might come looking for us." He grabs his clothes from the rusty cubicle. "You know this is a hookup joint for class breaks."
"I'm aware," Blake sighs. "You nearly cost us the tournament last year when you fucked a third of the cheer squad."
My eyes go wide at Andrew, "shit, man. How have you not- I don't know- run out of options or had your dick fall off by now?"
Andrew laughs at this revelation. "Don't go priesthood on me, Flint. You're the guy that-" Andrew flared his hands up making quotation marks with two fingers. "-'courted his hometown and Verity'. Just because you need a break doesn't mean the rest of us do." He continues laughing, mentioning something about recycling goods and selecting favorites.
I lean back, laughing to myself. I didn't expect much from Andrew anyhow. It's up to him to decide if he's tired of the reckless bachelor lifestyle. As long as it doesn't affect me, I don't care. I finish dressing and wait for the three to finish.
Donnic joins after his brother with a towel wrapped neatly around his waist. "Put your pants on before you walk out. Might get someone's chick pregnant if you sneeze."
Blake and I laugh together, standing to our feet. One of my growing favorites is watching the twins bicker back and forth. Both of the asshats always have something new to say. It's refreshing.
Donnic and Andrew dress themselves in a feverish state. I throw my bag over my shoulder. Class will begin in less than ten minutes from now. That means if I don't run, I'll have to power walk through the blistering snow until I make it across campus. I should head out so I'm not late to Gurley's class. "Thank you for practice." I say, patting Blake's shoulder. "I'll see you guys at dinner."
I walk out of the locker rooms. Regret dips into my stomach when I realize my hair is still damp. Icicles will probably form on my edges if I mop around in the biting cold. Mythicae's grand clock tower shrieks in the distance and I find myself running to Gurely's classroom. I'm afraid the soles in my shoes are about to snap in two from the torn materials. Even though I watched Donnic stitch it with magic, I find it hard to believe that my shoes can survive any longer.
By the time I reach the elixir room, I have to shake the snow and ice from my body. Clumps of nature's discretion fall from my head. Gurely is consumed in her gibberish rambles regarding tones and the body mass to realize I slipped into class. I take the opportunity to sneak past a distracted Minnow who insists on being my lab partner. The last thing I want is to give Wrath an actual reason to punch my lights out.
I find a seat beside a student who introduces himself as Avader Rez. The man is tiny compared to me with frizzy golden brown corkscrew-coils. From the small chat I'm able to have with Rez, I've learned that he's a wizard. Rez is, however, a fluffy man. He's well-rounded and often scrunches his nose up for various smells.
I took the opportunity to ask if he found a lab partner- he hadn't. I was relieved when he asked for me to be his lab bud this semester. It gets Minnow off my back without pissing off Wrath or Verity. The two of us spent the next hour taking notes.
We've already gone over to the base of general potions. Gurely lectures about the magical prospects of potions, how to use and avoid the rations, and even the effect of want vs need. That's what catches my attention. Her excitement over the subject is refreshing to me. It makes the class bearable.
"When you use magic, you're asking for your body to cast your desired outcome. Rather if you need a wall of fire to scare off your opponent. Or want to roast smores with your-" she squints at the book's pages she's holding. "-peers. Your body will respond based on the levels of dopamine and adrenaline. The higher the fight or flight, the more likely you'll be able to cast stronger quantities. But you must also have a calm and collective manner among yourselves. You don't want to cast with a foggy mind. Being direct in your potions and casts is detrimental."
Gurely continues explaining that the way a mythical approaches magic speaks for themselves as well. Researchers say that those who use glyphs have a higher percentile for strong marks in potions and literature. Those who use enchantment and light circles tend to thrive in social studies and numerical analysis. Lastly, the final method- the rare breed of magic wielders, often thrive in astral arts and physical alignments. Mind wielders thrive on uncertainty and tend to never flee from a spur of the moment. There's a superstition that there are very few of them because of their infatuation with near death. The bell tower chimes violently signaling that class is dismissed.
"Those who can cast with their minds alone are often the star Dybbuk captains, Farout leaders, the top of classes based on their passions. But just as powerful as one could be, they- just like the others- have weaknesses." she snaps the tethered spine shut. "If you wish to perform a cast, you must pull energy from your core. Then you project your desire where it is needed or wanted. When you discover your gifts, you'll be asked to construct a King's potion for the final marking grade of the semester. That, my beloved students, is tomorrow's discussion. Class is dismissed."
I departed from Rez and left with the crowd quickly. I knew Minnow was treading behind closely. The last thing I need at the moment is to have Wrath see me alone with his woman after the dominus incident. I join my roommates at the front of Harts and dread the arrangements prepared in the cafeteria. Sasha, while she's still visibly annoyed with Donnic, appears to be in brighter spirits. The six of us spent dinner talking among ourselves. Piper, who once again disregarded Andrew, busied herself with thick pallets of homework. It was nice being able to have a conversation with Blake without Andrew screaming over someone's knockers or Sasha fighting with Donnic.
I've grown used to the hushed whispers from the other but today they were quiet. The cafeteria seemed depressed as every sound carried an echo. No one was talking. A room that is usually filled with conversation and laughter is dead silent. I sat back confused when Blake gripped my shoulder.
"What the hell has got into everyone?" Blake grunted between clenched teeth.
I watch as Sasha and Piper open their scrolls. Their relaxed and semi happy expressions shift into suppressed horror. What the hell is it? Knowing this hellhole, I should prepare for the worst.
I reach into my bag and pull out my scroll. Its contents fizzle into thin strokes before forming its words. I can feel my heart slam rapidly in my chest. My eyes widened. Holy shit. That guy is dead?
MYTHICAE AND ASTRAL ARTS ANNOUNCEMENT
PROVIDED BY HEADMASTER GRIMM
STARTING @8:00 PM
With a heavy heart, Mythicae has confirmed a student's departure. Ayron J. Stiles, a beloved student, died on October 8th at the comfort of his home in Graves, Montana. He died at age nineteen. Ayron is survived by his father Klark Stiles, brother and fiance, Elizabeth Walker.
A candlelight vigil service for the late Ayron Stiles, commander of Farouts- will be held at the Grand Walkway tonight starting at 8:00 pm.
HeadMaster,
Grimm Crisco
This can't be real. I thought he was going to be better. I knew there was no cure, but they said it was caught early. So why did he die? I turn to Donnic, but freeze when I see him staring at a scroll with blotchy red eyes. Did he know the guy?
Another message pops up on my screen. I can only picture the raven haired menace who lost her teammate today. She probably thinks it's my fault. In a way, I suppose I feel responsible.
7:40 UNKNOWN
"It should've been you, halfling."