Aramis had minutes on the clock and he lived on the opposite end of the Lost, away from most of the general population.
Everyone talked about this town like it was a plague-invested slum but it really was just a lively small town in the middle of nowhere. It was cold though. Chilly winds, mind-numbingly low temperatures unlike any of the sunny warm weather that most of the Human Realms boasted, aside from the North that is.
He felt like it was unfair. This wasn't somewhere the people wanted to live in, they never chose to be here in the first place but they never let that hold them down. He couldn't understand how they could stand being forced to be here just because of some genetic predisposition that had never allowed their magic to blossom. It was a community that was just trying their best. Aramis felt like that was something he could never do which was why he felt so out of place whenever he usually roamed the streets.
The city seemed to be teeming with life, street carts up and running while families roamed the streets for treats. Considering how cold it was, he would have expected a lot of people to spend most of their time inside in the warm confines of their residences. They didn't, instead choosing to be out and about. It was a peaceful scene that would have made anybody smile.
The problem was the fact that with the crowd in his path, there was no way he was going to make it to school on time. Aramis also wasn't really feeling like shoving his way through the narrow walkways because that was kind of rude. He didn't have the best rep for causing so much trouble when he'd had a bit too much to drink and he didn't want to make it worse by pushing people out of his way.
At the same time, he still had to make it on time to school. Hard times call for drastic measures.
Moving to the nearest wall, he grabbed onto the hard cement. Aramis did this a lot when he first got here and the Riders told him what he was doing would just get him hurt. He just had to hope he wouldn't get himself in trouble while doing it this time.
How to prevent getting caught? Going as fast as he possibly could. He couldn't get in trouble if he was too fast to be caught in the first place, right?
Taking in a deep breath, Aramis pulled down and used the wall to hoist his body off the ground and up into the air. He landed with a little stumble onto the building's roof, holding onto the ledge to balance himself. His heart raced with excitement as he landed and before he knew it he'd broke into a run. A giant grin began to spread over his face as he made sure his bag wasn't gonna fly off his shoulders.
It only took a second before he took the next giant leap onto the next building. He glanced down, seeing the bustling Village from a bird's eye view. He could feel his body pumping as he propelled himself forward before landing with a roll. He didn't stop rolling though, until he crashed into a line of potted plants that had been placed there by its residents. No one had seemed to be noticed so Aramis decided to book it the fuck out of there as fast as possible.
It was such a delightful rush of adrenaline that he forgot about a lot of things in the heat of the moment. It was in moments like these when he felt unstoppable. To just go as fast as he could as far as he could. His feet pounded against the cement ground as he soared through the air onto one building then the next, all of it filled him with an electrifying thrill that he could not contain the laughter that escaped his lips.
He hadn't remembered the last time that he had laughed so hard. The wind blew through his hair, whipping past him as he continued to make his way towards the school buildings.
He still should have been more careful about how he went about this…method of transport. It wouldn't be the first time he overshot a jump or mistimed a leap from one building to next and was sent tumbling towards the ground floor. The risk was worth it though. Instead of worrying about every move he made, he simply followed the flow. It was so…gratifying. The freedom he felt was simply indescribable, nothing holding him down as he bounded through the air. There was a weightlessness within every inch of his body, it made him feel effervescent. Taking in a deep breath of the not-so-fresh air, Aramis could for a moment simply let go. Stop thinking about this or that as he sprung higher and higher into the air.
He could only imagine what it would be like to fly.
The surreal immersion was soon broken as soon as Aramis realised that he had arrived at his destination. The smile quickly faded as he stared at the desolate grey buildings that stood in front of his eyes. He could see multiple students making their way into the school, just in time for class. For some, being able to achieve academic greatness was a way to pursue a life outside of the Lost. Becoming a scholar was the goal of many and it was not a goal of his own.
Vaulting over the railings they'd installed on each rooftop, he slid against the side of the wall and back onto the streets. He was sure at least some people would have noticed but it wasn't like they were going to do anything about it so Aramis just played it cool. If he acted like nothing was wrong then other people would most likely just brush it off too. He was actually early because of the "shortcut" he'd taken through the city so he allowed himself a casual walk towards the open gates which were about to close in a few minutes.
Maybe he'd get a drink from the cafeteria and cool down for a bit before his first class. He had a feeling that this day was not going to be an entertaining whatsoever. How wrong he was, indeed.
Being the only school in the Lost, many would assume that the school wouldn't really be the most reputable in terms of providing for their students. That would have been a horrible misconception. The education provided was the best one could receive, thanks to its principal.
Aramis, who wasn't at all an unintelligent boy, was sitting there barely being able to keep up with the classes he was attending. It also didn't help that he'd been missing classes which made all the lessons so much more confusing.
He ran around the school, from one room to the next. Only being able to stop at his lockers in between each class for seconds. It wasn't even lunchtime and he was already feeling exhausted. The third class on his timetable was Math. It was not his favourite subject and he kind of hated his teacher. Well, he wasn't really on good terms with any of his teachers period.
That was also why Aramis made sure he arrived on time for every class so far. He was on thin ice and everything he did was just a fight to keep it from shattering their dwindling patience with him. It was time to do right by his sister and see through it properly this time. For today at least.
He sat at at the back of the class and opened up his book but before long, Aramis had begun to drown out all the noise around him. The quiet chatter coming from the students sitting near him, the teacher droning on to tell the class to stop chatting among themselves and turn to the next page of the textbook. All of it seemed so fucking pointless, Aramis could not even comprehend why this mattered so much to his sister for him to complete his education at this academy. Some trigo formula they had to memorise, where the fuck was he gonna use that? The teacher wasn't making the class very interesting either.
He didn't really fault the man, Aramis doubted anyone could make maths interesting, interesting to him especially. He'd promised his sister that he'd try his best but soon he felt his eyes closing…as they became heavier and heavier with each passing second. And before long, he had already begun to doze off.
It didn't seem like he'd been asleep for a long time but when he did open his eyes, everyone in the classroom had already left. Strange. They didn't think to wake him up? Dickheads. But that wasn't the case here.
A feeling of unease began to rise within him as he stood up, taking a look around him. Every single aspect of colour and life seemed to have drained out of the environment around him. It was as if he was now seeing the world through a polarising filter. A black and white depiction that was void of any animation. He was confused and quite honestly flabbergasted by this situation that he'd been placed in. Was he dead? That couldn't be it. Right?
Was he actually having a real time hallucination right in the middle of class? Hundreds of questions ran through his mind yet he could answer none of them. All of them were answered when he looked up to see who was sitting atop the teacher's desk with one leg crossed over the other.
The woman in black. She did look very. In fact, she seemed to be staring at him with a mix of contempt and pity.
"To think the Prince of Snow would be stuck in a classroom filled with a bunch of nobody's. Why haven't you called on me yet?" Her tone thick with annoyance.
"That's not very nice. I...I've been busy. Plus, I don't even know who you are." Something about her just made him nervous. Her unfaltering gaze and her commanding aura just made her an intimidating figure. She honestly felt a little unreal.
"So you want to know who I am."
"Yeah. You may just be a figment of my imagination."
She raised an eyebrow and stood. That statement had not made her happy because she poked a nail into his chest and pushed him back. That finger launched him back and pinned him against the wall. He didn't move. This was scary.
"Don't be so arrogant to assume I am a creation of your mind. You should be glad I am not annihilating you, others have said less and not lived."
He was scared but he still wanted answers. "Then tell me who you are. I need to know. If no one's been able to give me my magic back until now how can you be so sure you can do it?" His question was desperate as if holding onto that delusion he might be able to regain the life that he'd lost.
She considered him for a moment. There was a silence before a sigh escaped her grey lips. "Have a little more faith, little boy. You are capable of so much more than the magic you once wielded."
"Who are you?" He asked again, more firmly this time.
"Haven't you guessed it? I am the Goddess of the Night. My name is Nyx, my dear Prince of Snow. Now that you know it, when you are ready, call on me and I shall be there."
He took in a sharp breath. Was this real? This couldn't be real. Somehow he couldn't deny that who stood before him did not feel...mortal. If she'd wanted to, she could tear his mind to shreds and leave him for dead.
"Why me? What's the price that I'll have to pay for this?" He wasn't foolish. There was no such thing as a free lunch.
"Everything, Aramis. That is the price for your future."
Without even thinking, he knew the price hadn't even mattered in the first place.
He didn't want to be sitting here in a shitty classroom. He wanted his life back, the one he had when he still had his magic. When he had been different. When he was special. A Royal Prospect beloved by the whole world. There had been so much pressure put on his shoulders but he had relished on it. The feeling of life running through his veins, through the branches of his Tree. Any challenge that was thrown his way, he didn't need to worry because he knew he could say what he wanted and still come out on top of it.
Now looking at the person he had become, he didn't like what he saw. There was nothing to look forward to, nothing he wanted to learn, nothing he wanted to become. Right now, he didn't even know who he was anymore. How could he know what he wanted for himself? He had Cory. He had Liam. He had people who loved and cared for him. He was of noble descent, with warm food on the table and a roof over his head. More so, he had no right to complain.
However could he really confidently say that he was satisfied with the path his life was taking? Nothing excited him. Nothing gave him passion Nothing made him want to get out of bed to look forward to a new day.
He was Lost.
He was one of the Lost.
Again, he didn't have time to respond because this space folded and collapsed in on itself. The reality he'd seemingly existed within shattered into nothingness and again the boy awoke.
His head snapped back up violently as his dream was cut short abruptly. The simple act of him pushing off of the table had exerted enough force to have ripped the table in two. In a deafening screech of splintering wood, all heads turned towards him in an instant to see what had happened. He tried to stand but his feet pressed against the ground and the concrete underneath cracked.
It took a few moments for him to settle back into actual reality until he noticed that not only was the whole class staring at him. He would have thought his teacher would have started shouting at him but instead he looked...scared. He saw fear in his eyes and he didn't think it was just because he was a noble. Aramis was different. He wasn't normal. He didn't fit in here and he didn't WANT to belong here.
He needed to get out of here.
Without another word, he left. Aramis felt suffocated and he just needed to leave. He hated these dreams because it was making him feel worse and worse about himself. He hated these dreams because she was right. She was reminding him of what could have been and what he could never have. At the same time, she was also giving him a chance.
He felt anger and confusion rise up within him. He just needed time to think.
As every other student was still holed up in their respective classrooms, the hallways and staircases were largely isolated. That was why Aramis flinched when he saw someone walking in his direction. What was even more surprising was that he knew the kid. He was limping and tears streaked across his face. It was someone he had known well.
Roland Miel, one of the only people in the Lost who was able to wield Magic; anyone could see it from the flourishing Lifetree that grew at the base of his left wrist, tracing up his arm all the way up to his shoulder. He was a thin scrawny kid, with wavy hair and a pair of thin metal glasses. Last year, he'd been given the opportunity to enrol into the Royal Academy. It should have his been his big break, a way out of the Lost.
Within a month, he'd been expelled. Just being able to wield Magic didn't mean you would be able to last in the Academy. It was filled with the most ruthless Magicians of all the Thirteen States, all of them fighting for a life of greatness through their own power and will. One slip up and you were toast. Roland also didn't seem to be doing too great over here in the Lost.
His right eye seemed to have swelled up, an ugly bruise seeming to have formed over it. Aramis immediately quickened his pace to offer his assistance, wondering what the hell had even happened.
"You good? Who-" He asked, now grabbing gently onto his arm to support him. Instead, a burst of anger seemed to overcome his friend as he shoved Aramis back with one hand. It simply caused Roland to stumble back, and fall flat on his butt. Aramis took a step back and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
"You know exactly who. Just...just leave me alone, Morricone." He mumbled after an awkward moment of silence before leaving quickly.
He did know exactly who. He walked in the direction Roland had came from, his knuckles white and his hands clenched so tightly he could feel his arms trembling. All the frustration that had built up was threatening to simply explode out, he had to exert everything he had to stop it from doing so.
Thomas Hale stood in the middle of the bunch, laughing as he threw a pile of books out of a worn out backpack. Probably Roland's. The Youngest Child of the Hale Household, the only other noble family of the Lost. He was thinking of what to say, perhaps to question him what he'd done to Roland and why he was doing it. Nobility let you do a lot of things and get away with it.
The guy just had an annoying face. It was unlikeable and distasteful especially with that perpetual sneer on his face. It's hard to describe but you know those times when you just look at somebody and you know you hate their fucking guts?
Aramis would later recount that he was not proud of what he did and he felt apologetic ( he didn't ) for his actions.
"Hey Morricone, I see you ain't at the pub. I was thinking of checking on your sister, Cor-" Thomas Hale would not finish that sentence.
Aramis' knuckle had connected cleanly with his jaw and his head was flung to the side violently. It wasn't a pretty sight. Thomas' head collided with the metal lockers that lined the side of the walls and he crumpled to the floor in an instant. The group that was with the kid wasn't a small one. In fact, he could count almost more than a dozen jacked up dudes who now surrounded him. They didn't look happy but...neither did he.
"FUCK YOU!" Aramis screamed, not really at anyone in particular.
Then, all hell broke loose.
By the time the Principal arrived at the scene, the floor was littered with kids half beaten to death. Aramis had grabbed one by the collar and had just kicked another THROUGH the wall. The look in his eyes was a savage one but it faded once he saw the man standing at the end of the hallway.
"Young man, you BETTER to put those students down. What do you think you're doing?" William Saxton roared, his eyes ablaze with a cold fury that only an authoritarian could have.
With an inward groan, he dropped the senior he was holding to the floor.
Aramis...was fucked.