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The first day of Clyde Nite’s Knight Night School had Fitzroy Maplecourt so anxious he could barely walk and nauseous enough to throw up. In fact, that’s how he ends up in the toilets- homeroom had been a disaster for him. The teacher had singled him out as an example of a “scholarship” student and how respect needs to be earned, not given out like charity. The sneer that had accompanied the look had almost been enough to send him over the edge of his peers already staring him- but he managed to keep his anxiety at bay until the bell rang.
As he lets out another dry heave, he tries to quiet his crying as he clutches his shirt- old, but well loved. Before today, Fitzroy had found memories of it bringing him good luck. But now, when he glances at the time and winces at the fact that he’s going to be late unless he runs to his first class of the day, he can’t help but think that maybe luck isn’t real.
Three months into Clyde Nite’s Knight Night School, and Fitzroy learns how to use makeup. Not to make himself look better or to try and help any of the girls out at the school- it’s to hide the bruise forming around his eye, a real shiner that would make his mom weep if she saw it. But with a quick and deft hand he covers his face in the makeup and looks at the mirror in his small, satisified that the results of yesterday’s… altercation won’t show up to anyone. Last night he had to ice it, and wrap his knuckles up with gauze from the nurses station. He didn’t bother going to the school cleric- it was better if he dealt with this alone, after all.
When he’s walking around the school, trying to keep a straight face at the snickers and whispering, at the hurried glances to his face as he struggles to open his locker. One of the other students, an elf with hair too long for his face if you asked Fitzroy, leans against the locker adjacent to his, with a smirk and all too knowing look.
“So, where’s the black eye I gave you yesterday Maplecourt? I could’ve sworn I hit your harder than your daddy,” He laughs, and maybe Fitzroy shuts his locker to harshly and maybe he’s clutching his books to tightly, but he turns to him, and a sudden calm washes over him.
“I know you’re an idiot,” he says, loud enough for everyone to hear from the crowd gathering around, waiting and watching for another fight. “But I could’ve sworn you never hit me-”
“What’s going on here?” A loud, booming voice calls out. Fitzroy relaxes ever so slightly at the appearance of the sword fighting instructor. “Class is in less than two minutes, get going get going!”
With loud grumbles, the crowd disperses, and the bully sneers at him as he leaves, giving his shoulder a harsh shove. It goes back to normal after that, right up until someone yells “Teachers Pet!” at him as he walks to his classroom. But he doesn’t acknowledge it, letting the words slide deep into his core to be forgotten about. The rest of the day goes by without another incident, and he finds himself filled with relief as he enters his room once more.
It’s that night that he wonders, truly wonders, if all of this is worth it. If putting up with people who look down at him for being a scholarship kid, for not having a fitted uniform or brand new clothes every month. Would it be worth it when even the teachers look at him like they expect him to drop out at any moment?
As he washes off the makeup and winces at the black eye forming, he pushes those thoughts away and gets ready for another night of studying and trying his best. It’s what he can do for now.
He has a month left until he graduates. A fucking month. Four weeks, twenty eight days, seven hundred and 20 long fucking hours until he can graduate. The taunts and insults had gotten worst, and he’s done his best to defend himself. But it’s his last class, and it’s the class with the elf who recently cut his hair who lights and unlights the candle in front of him easily, and the other students are watching him, and maybe his nails are digging into his palms too tightly, and maybe he can hear Silvia Nite and the assistant teacher whispering his name too often, and maybe if everyone stopped fucking staring he could light the fucking candle-
Silvia Nite glances at him, and all the negative emotions he’s felt explodes. He explodes, and the explosion of magic feels good. Now Fitzroy won’t be the only suffering in school, now everyone will know what it feels like to be him, and maybe they’ll finally realize he’s not there to fuck around, that he’s worked harder than some of them to be here, that he’s more than what he appears to be, and that he’ll be greater-
When he finally breathes again, it stops. The feelings drain away, and he can feel the power leave him. But at least he can finally breathe again, and when he looks at Silvia’s face and the faces of his students, a new feeling places itself in his body. It’s a disgusting feeling, and it feels too good to be true. But it disappears in an instant as Silvia finally speaks.
“Maplecourt, we will discuss this later. Class dismissed,” and suddenly anxiety drains him of the feeling as he gets up, still feeling a little smug as people part ways in the hallway to get away from him. But, now all he can think about, is how fucked he is for screwing up his one chance at finally being something. But as he thinks back to the look on Silvia’s face, he finds himself thinking, that maybe, it was worth it.