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Chapter Text

It's either my frustration at my helplessness, or else my desire to think about anything that isn't Damien's hold on me or the spine-chilling threat he just made. Whatever it is, it makes me ask myself a simple question.

At what point did my pleasant year at Iris Academy begin careening towards total disaster?

I try to come up with an answer while trying and failing to move yet again. The decisive moment was probably the confrontation with William at the cafeteria. Or else sending him a romantic Valentine in the first place, thinking he might ever acknowledge me as anything but a surrogate little brother. Maybe it was neither. Maybe it was spurning him when he tried to make peace with me after the poetry club and telling him I didn't need him to save me.

Because as much as I hate it, I need someone to save me. Badly. 

"Do you think ignoring me will make me go away?" I thought Damien was being oddly quiet, but now I realise he has probably been taunting me all along and I just didn't hear him from the blood rushing in my ears. "That's not how this works, worm."

"Let me go!" Not that he will. It's not personal, or at least it wasn't before. It's always been about William and still mostly is. 

But I have made Damien angry.

Suddenly, Damien smiles. It's not the diabolical grin he has favoured since I woke up in the empty gym. It's the sweet, gentle smile he used to wear around me back when I "dated" him to distract him away from Ellen. He leans so close to me our noses almost touch. "Oh, I'll let you go. Eventually."

I rack my brain for ways to escape. If only my head moves, then my head will have to be my weapon. If I focus all my strength into a single headbutt and aim correctly, I just might be able to knock him out cold...

Too late. As abruptly as he smiled, Damien frowns. He lets go of my cape and grabs me by the hair instead, yanking my head sharply to the side. The knife that was resting on my neck is  there no longer. Damien drops it on the floor and peels back the collar of my tunic.

"Damien." My voice is thick with discomfort — not fear, I tell myself, but even I don't buy it. I seek his eyes, but from my vantage point all I can see of him is a leathery wing and a cape-covered shoulder. "Don't—"

Damien sinks his teeth into my neck.

I scream. My body instinctively tries to shy away from the numbing, burning pain, and reels when I still can't move a single muscle. The demon's teeth burrow further into my flesh and white spots cloud my vision. I can no longer hear myself and wonder if I was wrong in my earlier assumption, if it turns out Damien can kill me after all...

If I ever require proof of the sheer uncaring nature of gods, spirits, and ancestors, I will remember that they never once allowed me to slip into unconsciousness the entire time Damien made me wish he had just slit my throat after all.

When it's finally over, the Silence he cast upon me after he tired of my cries has long since faded, replaced by an entirely mundane silence. He discards me on the floor like a piece of refuse and stands up.

"Well." His voice is honeyed again, with a lingering edge from his earlier rage. "I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to discovering what dear William thinks of this."

"He won't care." My voice is so faint I barely hear myself. Even as I speak, I'm trying to spirit my mind back to the forest, back even to my room in Wolf Hall. Anywhere that isn't here.

"You really know nothing about William." The contempt would have been obvious even without the kick aimed at side. As I shudder, Damien crouches back down, looming over me like a cat inspecting a dead mouse. "Do you honestly think he won't blame himself for this? Can you imagine a world where he will take this lying down? Never. Not our William."

As he speaks, his fingers trace across my bare shoulder and upper back. I was too far gone at the time to tell whether he cut my skin there with metal or magic, but his touch gliding across the wounds fills my veins with ice.

"Perhaps I should take you directly to him." His hand moves onto my cheek, pretending to wipe away tears that aren't there. If I cried at some point, any proof of it has long since dried away. "I could wrap you up with some butterscotch candy and leave you at his doorstep. Wouldn't that be a pleasant thing to wake up to? His little love-struck freshman, cruelly deflowered, all because he was too pig-headed—"

He halts abruptly and stands up. I listen intently, but all I hear is profound silence. In any case, whatever spooked Damien very conspicuously doesn't make itself manifest.  

He remains still for quite a while. When he finally moves, it's to erase the ritual patterns keeping me trapped. At least, I assume that must have been it, because the next moment I can move again. It makes little difference. All my remaining strength goes into curling up a bit more tightly around myself, doing my best to keep my ruined neck from touching the floor.

"I would tell you to send him my regards," Damien's voice is growing distant. "But you'll do that regardless."

The door to the gym opens and closes again, leaving me alone with the tatters of my life.

I lie still for what feels like another eternity.

A part of me longs to simply fall asleep. Everything hurts, from my temples to my feet, with several pulsing hotspots of misery in between I try not to think about too hard. It would be so much easier to close my eyes and wait for the world to melt away. It would be even better if it stayed gone and I never had to wake up again at all.

Still, I keep my eyes open. After a while, I try moving my arm, with great success.

Sitting up is a whole new challenge. Once I manage it, I have to stay still for several minutes as the ice radiating from my shoulder makes me dry heave so violently it consumes all my attention. Standing up will be equally bad if not worse, but I know I can manage it.

I look up at the windows. It's still night-time, but who knows for how long. I have to get out of here. Now.

I try to heal at least some of my wounds. Nothing happens; my magic is still gone. I'll just have to manage. I grimace as I inspect what's left of my clothing. My tunic is fine apart from the slashed shoulder, but my trousers are an unmitigated disaster. The cape is more promising: Damien tore it by the brooch when he yanked it off of me, but it's intact enough for me to tie it back on.

My fingers shake as I adjust the brooch, placing it so it rests directly on my good shoulder. It's not perfect, but the cape covers the worst damage to both me and my clothing, more than well enough to pass a cursory glance. Of course, if I move fast I might even avoid those.

I touch my neck. I expect the caked blood, but not the fresh stains I see as I inspect my fingers afterwards. Still, it's only a trickle.

My legs tremble when I stand up, but they carry my weight. Good. Leave. Go your room. No-one will know as long as you move.

I limp out of the gym, expecting each shadow on my path to pounce upon me.

Once I'm leaning against the wall of the walkway I realise I should have reached Wolf Hall ages ago. I stare blearily at the silent courtyard to my left. Did I take the wrong turn? Am I so addled I can't even remember the layout of the academy? Where am I?

There's nothing else to it. I have to keep moving. The courtyard won't stay twilit forever. Soon there will be people milling about. Minnie will be up early. Barbara could be up right now. 

It's this thought that seals my throat shut. Soon enough, people will go to the gym and see the remnants of the ritual patterns. And bits of my clothes. And the stains.

I halt completely. What am I thinking? I left behind blood and scraps of cloth which can be easily traced back to me. Soon everyone will know what happened tonight.

The ground threatens to give out under me as I debate whether to turn back immediately. Ultimately, I decide it's better to get a change of clothes first. Maybe even a glass of water. Something to dispel the fog that's been seeping into my mind ever since Damien first bit into me.

I keep dragging myself onwards even as the world tilts precariously before me. There's no choice. I have to keep moving if I want to keep what happened hidden. It's bad enough it happened. It'll be much worse if everyone knows. I want neither their pity nor their revulsion at my stupidity.

Finally, I recognise the familiar walls of Wolf Hall and nearly choke on my relief. I'm more teetering than walking, but it's enough to get me to my room. I lean my weight against the door. It opens, and I stumble in, falling straight into my bed.

"Woah!"

I fall to the floor, struggling to back away. The person in the bed stirs, as does the one in the second bed I realise all too late is also in this room that's obviously not mine.

"What was that?" Donald sounds groggy, but he's already sitting upright. 

I swallow an apology, back on my feet and out of the room just as Luke wins his fight against the bedsheets, still recovering from the surprise me collapsing on top of him in the dead of night. My second attempt at locating my room goes better than the first. I fall on my bed, heart pounding so fast it rattles my bones. I hear the voices of my friends on the other side of the wall. I can't make out the words, but their tone is that of amused confusion. No doubt they think I was playing a hilarious prank on them.

That is, until the mood shifts. They suddenly grow hushed, still talking but so quietly I have to strain my ears to even catch that much.

It doesn't matter. I can't stay here. Forget the glass of water. A spare uniform, and then a trek back to the gym to dispose of all the evidence. Only then can I sleep.

I'm still struggling to get up — for all my determination, the pull of my mattress is overwhelming — and have just pulled the cape off when there's a single knock on the door before it's pulled wide open. The shock jolts me upright.

Donald squints at me. "Is everything okay? I wouldn't bug you, but when I cast Light just now—"

He falls silent. There's only so much light in the room even with the curtains drawn and the door wide open, but the direction of Donald's gaze leaves little room for doubt about what he sees. Too late I raise my hand to my neck.

"Luke, go get someone." Donald continues to stare at me as he speaks.

"H-huh? Yeah!" Luke, who's been bobbing behind Donald's shoulders, takes off. From the sound of it, he crashes into a wall before even reaching the first corner, then keeps going.

I sit stock-still, as inert as a salt statue. For a long time, Donald and I simply stare at one another, equally unsure about what to say.

Donald is the first to break the silence. "Uh..." He massages his neck before continuing. For the first time since I've met him, he looks frightened. "I don't know how much it's gonna help, but I can try to heal your neck at least."

I'm spared from having to reply by the tell-tale sound of Luke rushing back down the corridor. My heart drops as I hear a second set of footsteps accompany his. For Luke to return so soon with company, there's only one person he could have fetched.

William appears in the door frame, confirming my worst nightmares.

It's at this point that my mind finally gives out and I plunge back into darkness.

Chapter Text

When I wake up, it's morning.

I sit up, weak and stiff, but at least I no longer feel spliced open. I'm in my own bed, wearing pyjamas. I stare at the stripes of light the sun paints on my blanket.

My joints creak like they have never been used before as I sit up to inspect myself. Everything looks and feels as it should. Well, almost everything. When I touch my left shoulder, I can feel the skin underneath my pyjamas raised in an uneven pattern. The wounds there remain, no doubt due to some malicious spell weaved into the cuts.

I lie back down as I attempt to make sense of how I feel. Already the events of the night feel like a nightmare, with a glaze upon my memories that makes it difficult for me to imagine myself back in the situation. A mundane haze or a magical one? Either way, I have no doubt it's there to protect me.

The door opens without warning. I startle until I see it's only Grabiner. Upon seeing me awake, he enters and closes the door firmly behind him.

"Do not be alarmed," he says as though I was about to bolt at the sight of him. "You are safe now."

I sit up straight. "What happened?"

He draws in a deep breath. Underneath his usual sternness, he looks uneasy. Still, he doesn't hesitate. "You were incapacitated by Damien Ramsay and taken to the gymnasium after curfew, where he proceeded to assault you. After his attack, the cambion fled the premises. The wards have been adjusted to prevent his return."

I nod. I try to think of something to say, but the words get stuck in my throat.

"One way or another, you managed to make your way back to your hall, where your classmates found you wounded. They proceeded to alert Mr. Danson, who in turn alerted the staff."

I nod again, ignoring how mechanical the gesture feels. I had forgotten all about stumbling around in the night until he mentioned it. "Do my parents know?"

"Not yet. I intended to wait until either you awoke or today came to an end. Any further delay would likely be perceived as neglect on my part."

"But it's only been..." My words peter out as I realise I don't actually know how long it's been.

"Today is Thursday."

Thursday! I've been asleep for an entire day?

Grabiner shifts uncomfortably. "Your wounds were not life-threatening, but they were nevertheless serious."

I don't need him to go on: I remember enough in spite of the fog in my head to guess what the worst of it was. Instead, I try to look determined. "I'll write to my parents myself. I'll tell them I was attacked, but that I'm fine now."

"I have no interest in playing any part in deceiving your parents, even if it's through my silence."

"I'll tell them the truth. I'll just leave out some of the details until I can speak to them in person." Fat chance. Too many people know as is.

"...Very well." He turns to leave. "I will bring you some food."

"I'm not hungry."

"You will eat."

"Fine." Maybe it will rid me of the worst of the hollow feeling inside me. He's almost out the door by the time I remember to add something. "Thank you."

He pauses, briefly, and nods, then turns away before I can make sense of his expression.

I eat what Grabiner brings me, then lie back down till dusk. A part of me wishes to go outside and do something active. The part of me that wishes to merge with my bed wins out.

Just before complete darkness falls, I haul myself upright. The burn on my back has subsided, but it still stings. I know I won't like the answer, but I have to know. My magic flows freely through me again, so all I have to do is feel off my pyjama top and cast Farsight to look at myself from behind.

Immediately, my eyes rivet on the bright red letters, embossed on my skin so clearly they could be used to teach children the alphabet. As clear as they are, I have to stare at the words for a long time before they make sense to me.

To William, with Love

I stay in my room for the entirety of Friday. I just barely bother to get dressed, then watch the clouds drift by my window.

My feelings have become alien to me. Whenever I try to think about what happened, my thoughts turn into sludge. Maybe that's for the best. The more what happened feels like a nightmare, the easier it will be for me to think of other things. At least, that's my theory. For now, my thoughts swirl around Damien like he's a sinkhole.

I hear a smattering of laughter from the corridor as my hallmates return from their classes. It won't be long until the spring play begins. I was planning on attending until my plans with William fizzled out. Now I'm glad I have no plans to cancel.

Just as I think what a blessing my private room is, there's a knock on the door. I get up even as I'm still debating whether to actually respond. Is there anyone I would actually like to see right now? If it were Grabiner on the other side with urgent news, he'd have already made his presence known.

There is only silence. Eventually, I decide I can always slam the door shut if I change my mind and open it.

It's Barbara. She looks surprised to actually see me, then masters her expression and nods.

"Hi." I don't really know what else to say. "Uh... do you need something?"

Wordlessly, Barbara holds out her hands. I take the two things she's offering me.

The first is a hand-made card, an elaborate paper mosaic against a blue backdrop. The only words on it are "get well soon." I wonder briefly if the swords depicted on it are traditional to American get well cards or just her personal flourish.

The second thing is a sandwich. As soon as it's in my hand, I realise that although I don't feel hungry, my stomach does. "Thank you."

I expect a hint of a smile, but Barbara remains solemn. That combined with the card makes one thing perfectly clear. She knows. No doubt she was in fact up and about that night and spotted me.

I expect to catch fire from the shame, but it doesn't happen. Somehow, if it's her, I simply don't mind so much.

"Do you want to come in?" The question escapes my lips before I realise how suggestive it is. I'm trying to figure out just how to swallow my tongue when Barbara nods again, shoulders up but not otherwise perturbed.

I back away to the window, giving Barbara a wide berth and a direct path to the door. Only in retrospect do I notice that I'm trapping myself instead, so to alleviate my unease I set the card on the table and point at the sandwich. "Mind if I eat this right away?"

Barbara frowns, her expression easy to read for once. What do you think it's for?

Her point taken, I unwrap the sandwich and dig in. Barbara watches me from behind folded arms as I realise just how much I was starving. By the time I'm finished and wipe my fingers in the wrapping, I find it curious just how normal the situation feels. Barbara and I aren't exactly close: in fact, she has never said more than a dozen words to me. Even so, the silence between us feels comforting, almost like we're childhood friends or something.

As I think this, Barbara's eyes darken. She glances into the corridor. After she sees nothing moving there, she suddenly speaks.

"Do you want revenge?"

I stare at her. I already knew she knew, but hearing her confirm it in words, even indirectly, pulls me back to the beginning of the week. I shake the memory away the best I can, but some of it clings to the edges of my mind.

Barbara gaze is like that of a statue, stoic and certain. She's not joking around. And though I doubt she knows who it is that wronged me, I know it wouldn't dent her determination in the slightest.

I take the time to consider my response. I do want revenge. Maybe it's a failing in me, but ever since the shock wore off, there's been a bitter ball of hatred in the pit of my stomach, like burning tar, that makes me want to find Damien and make him feel at least a little of the pain and terror he inflicted upon me. But...

After a long while, I shrug. "Even if I want it, I can't have it." No-one knows where he is, after all.

Barbara takes my reply in stride. She nods, a small crease forming between her eyes. For a moment, she looks like she means to say something more, but before either of us actually says anything, she's out through the door.

I wait for her footsteps to recede before I shut the door. Then, I sink onto my bed, my legs suddenly giving way. I'm exhausted all over again, but at least it's not solely due to the horrible weight that has been pushing me down for the past couple of days. I take the card and trail my finger across the letters. Barbara has used silver glitter to decorate the cardboard, and my finger comes back covered in what looks like moon dust. I feel the corners of my mouth tug upwards.

I lay back on my bed. I should get something nice for Barbara in turn, to show her just how much I appreciate her kindness. I'm still thinking of it as I finally fall asleep.

And if my sleep is interrupted by nightmares, she's the least to blame.

I wake up on Saturday morning even more tired than I was the day before. I retain nothing of my dreams except a lingering sense of nausea.

My body is heavy as I push myself upright, but my mind is as clear as it has been the whole week. Most of my fellow students will leave today for spring break. I'll have all the time in the world to come to terms with what happened. Maybe I'll even catch up with my studies, even if that feels like a gnat-sized concern at the moment.

It's about time I write to my parents.

I get the pen and paper ready and scribble down the greeting, after which I find myself stalled. I have to say something about what happened, of course, but in a way that doesn't make it sound like Iris Academy is a deathtrap or that Grabiner hasn't been looking after me properly. No matter how much my room has began to feel like a prison and I yearn to feel the familiar forest floor beneath my feet again, I don't want to leave just yet.

In the end, I describe a minor incident and put the blame squarely on myself. I word it so that it leaves the door open for a more truthful explanation in the future. As before, I doubt I'll ever walk through that door. The last thing I need is my parents fretting over it.

I watch the letter vanish in its usual glow, then leave the room in hunt for breakfast. I still don't feel that hungry, but Barbara's sandwich made it clear that I'm not the best judge of my appetite at the moment.

"Gary?" 

As early as it is, I should have expected Minnie to be up and about. Her smile is awkward as she sidles over to me. She keeps rubbing her arm as she looks at me.

I decide to break the mounting silence. "Are you going home today?"

"Oh, yes." Her smile is even more tremulous now. "And you're not, right?"

"Yeah." I think I mentioned as much at the end of the previous study group. More importantly, I'm trying to figure out just what is making her so nervous. Minnie's confidence, while perhaps not unshakeable, has never left her speechless before.

It hits me like the obvious thing it is. Somehow, she also knows.

But how, I wonder as I watch Minnie fidget with her sleeve and trying to make up her mind about something. Barbara wouldn't have told her... no, Barbara definitely wouldn't have told her. And none of the teachers would have, either. Or Luke and Donald. Or William...

Just as I shake my thoughts away from such pointless tracks and decide Minnie doesn't actually know but has simply pieced together that something is wrong, she suddenly throws her arms around me. 

The contact is brief, but it startles me with its suddeness so badly I can't move.

"Sorry," Minnie says as soon as she puts some distance between us and sees my frozen expression. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

I try to blink my way out of my stupor and smile. "Yeah, I know that."

"I just came to say..." She's back to worrying her sleeve. Then, she visibly gathers up her determination. "If there's anything I can do to help you, all you need to do is let me know. Of course, I can't really do much until I come back, but you can always write to me if you need to talk to someone or..."

"...Thanks," I say as the silence grows awkward again. I've never seen Minnie like this before. I mean, I've seen her being helpful before, even overbearingly so. But something about the awkwardness in her eyes makes me think she does in fact know exactly what happened after all. "I'll think about it."

Even though she looks more than ready to hurry away, she hesitates. "Will you really be alright here all by yourself?"

I shrug. "It's not so bad. I have a lot of studying to do."

"I know what you mean." This time, Minnie's smile seems more or less sincere.

We part ways, and before I have really time to process what just happened, Donald and Luke come out of their room, Luke still rubbing his eyes. They halt as they see me.

I do my best to smile. "Breakfast?"

"Yeah." Their eyes meet briefly. When Donald next looks at me, his smile is almost sunny. "Breakfast."

And if the conversation is a bit stilted on our way to the cafeteria, it is at least a conversation.

Chapter Text

I don't actually study much during the break. I try to, but the words keep slipping off the page and turning into a great jumble on the floor. In the end, I get some work done, but I have to hope my hard work earlier in the school year will pay off enough that I won't fail the remaining exams.

The weather is nice, at least. I take advantage of the break to roam around as I please, breathing in the fresh air. None of my night-time panic pierces through daylight. I suppose I sincerely trust the safety measures the professors have put around the school. 

By the time classes reconvene, I'm ready to greet Donald and Luke with a grin. "How were your breaks?"

"Uh. Good?" Luke still looks nervous, but he usually does.

"Being stuck in the same household as Urchin is always a treat." Donald's smile is natural enough. "At least she's fun to rile up. How were you?"

"Bored." I laugh as I say it. I'm as surprised as they are that it's not a fake laugh. "Almost made me long for classes."

Donald laughs back. "Better treat yourself to plenty of Grabby while you have the chance."

As we keep talking, Luke stops balancing from one foot to another and even makes a few quips of his own. It's a weight off my shoulders I didn't know I was carrying until it's gone. Maybe they understand that I'm happy to pretend like nothing ever happened and just keep on living. 

And if not... well, it's not that long until I go back home.

Later that night, there's another knock on my door. I don't even pause to think before opening it. After seeing who it is, I wish I had.

"Can I come in?" William's expression is level, but his eyes are guarded. 

"If you must," I say, grouchier than I mean to be. I try to make up for it by making way for him as quickly as possible.

I take my time closing the door to avoid looking at him for as long as possible. A part of me has wanted to talk to him for some time now, but now that the moment is here, I'm irritated I didn't get to choose the timing for myself.

William observes me quietly. He looks the same as ever, which is to say annoyingly handsome. Annoyingly, because he has made it very clear my stupid crush on him isn't reciprocated. Extremely annoyingly, because I've tried to snuff said crush out as harshly as I could with limited success. "I meant to come to talk to you earlier."

"That's fine."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better than I was a week ago." I mean it as nothing but the truth, but William's expression makes it clear he takes it as a barb.

"I came to apologise." It's obviously painful to him to maintain eye contact, but William doesn't look away. "I shouldn't have let what happened earlier get in the way of acting as your senior."

"No-one expected you to come charging in." Except for Damien. The one dim spark of light I gained from that entire night of terrors is the sheer annoyance on his face as he realised just how badly he had miscalculated the whole thing.

"But I should have gone to Professor Potsdam sooner."

...Okay, he has a point.

"I almost did. It's just that when I got the letter, I honestly thought it was a prank, even after verifying it really did come from Damien. I thought..."  He shakes his head. "It sounds ridiculous now that I say it out loud, but I thought you and Damien were in cahoots with one another. That the letter was a ploy to push me into making a grand gesture of some kind."

My heart sinks. Do I really come across as that manipulative? 

"So I tried to ignore it, but couldn't quite manage it. Eventually, I gave up trying to sleep. I was on my way to find the professor when Luke came running."

He stops talking. That's fine. I already know what happened next.

"What I mean to say is that I should've acted at once. I doubt I can ever make it up to you, but for what it's worth, I'm truly sorry."

I look at William. He meets my gaze without hesitation, but it's like he's still somehow not really looking me in the eye. I can tell that he means what he says. He definitely feels bad.

Maybe he should feel bad. But I'm too exhausted to really care about that point. I'm more concerned with the other emotion shining in his eyes, something I should have expected but which I hate all the same.

Pity. 

"I don't blame you." My words ring hollow even though I mean them. "You warned me before I got into this mess. It's his fault."  

William looks doubtful. His eyes flit towards my shoulder. The words carved into my flesh suddenly feel like they're once again on fire.

"You're not responsible for his actions!" I snap. I mean to sound mature, but if anything, my petulant tone makes me seem even more childish than the Valentine's Day disaster.

"I'm sorry. I'll do my best to make it up to you."

"You're not listening to what I'm saying."

"I am. I understand what you mean." He tries to smile, presumably in an effort to soothe me. It goes about as well as you'd expect. "I hope the remainder of your stay here is peaceful."

"William—"

I cut myself off after I see the look he's now giving me. There's nothing hateful about it, or even angry or disappointed as there was when we clashed before. He's still blaming himself and himself alone. And feeling sorry for me into the bargain. It's obvious that after all this, he's never going to see me as an equal. I'll always be a victim who got hurt because he didn't act fast enough.

I turn to look out of the window and let him leave without further protest. I listen to his footsteps as he strides away.

I take Grabiner's class the next day, and Professor Potsdam's the day after. It feels weird settling back into what was not long ago my daily routine, like I'm an actor in an extraordinarily long play. It's a lot like how I felt like when I first arrived at Iris Academy. 

At the same time, I feel... fine. Almost good, sometimes. Donald and Luke are acting as they were before the incident, and while Barbara hasn't come to talk to me again, our eyes meet in class once and I know we're friends. It's surprisingly easy to pretend I never crossed paths with Damien.

At least, as long as there's daylight.

I spend as many moonlit hours as possible studying. It's difficult to concentrate sometimes: blue magic is the easiest, since it's the one I have an affinity for, but red magic especially can be a hassle. Even red magic's better than lying awake in bed, or worse, falling into the bad kind of sleep full of glinting steel and wicked laughter.

I don't remember anything about the exam afterwards. I passed, but that's about it. My memory has always been good — too good, sometimes — so this weird lapse makes me nervous. I end up going along with Donald and Luke as they play another prank on Donald's sister. Anything that can divert my attention is golden.

And everything goes fine until the day the week after when I stupidly decide to take gym class.

I didn't give it a single thought as I planned my weekly schedule. All I was thinking was how long it's been since I last exercised and how flabby and weak that made me feel. I never really cared for sports and exercise back at home, but here they've become a part of my life. Once I'm actually standing in the gym, however, even with only ten other students exercising with me, I feel crowded in.

This is stupid. Why is this affecting me? It's not like the gym itself has changed. But thinking that doesn't help shake off the nausea. My vision blurs and blood roars in my ears.

"Gary?"

There's a light touch on my arm. I'm dimly aware of a girl trying to guide me along. I decide to go with her.

When my vision clears, I'm outside the gym. Ellen's studying me with concern written all over her face. "Are you alright? Should I get one of the professors?"

I resist the urge to grab the wall for support and shake my head. I still feel sick, but I can manage it. More than I can manage dragging more people into this mess.

Ellen keeps looking at me as though fearing I'll collapse, and for a moment I'm certain she's going to ignore me and fetch Professor Potsdam. Instead, she helps me sit down. Once my back is securely against the wall, breathing gets easier, and I can finally swallow down the bile rising up my throat.

She sits down next to me, and for a spell, we share a bubble of companionable silence. It's funny how relaxed we manage to be. We are friends after a fashion, but we have barely talked after the Christmas holiday. I should have made more of an effort to keep in touch.

She tilts her head. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

The silence returns, more awkward this time. What can I say to break the sudden ice? Ask about her studies? Talk about softball? Maybe I should ask her what she thought of the play since I missed it.

While I'm still thinking, Ellen gets the better of me. "Um... I'm sorry about William."

"Huh?" 

"I mean... about Valentine's Day." She looks away. "Maybe you don't want to talk about it. Sorry."

"It's fine." The sting of humiliation from back then has mostly faded. It's not funny yet, exactly, but I manage something that will hopefully pass for a grin. "I was stupid to even think he might think of me that way."

"I don't think you were." When I turn to stare, Ellen shuffles a bit, but continues in a steady voice. "I mean, I don't really know how things were between you two, but when we all went to the café and I saw the way he looked at you, I thought he probably liked you that way. It... hurt, actually."

"Oh?"

A strikingly vivid blush spreads across Ellen's cheeks. "I mean, I kind of had a crush on William too."

"Ohh." That makes sense. Who wouldn't have a crush on William? 

"I actually thought about sending him a Valentine's Day card too. And I did, but just a friendly one." Her smile is self-deprecating. "I knew he wouldn't see me as anything but Virginia's room-mate."

"I'm sorry."

She shakes her head. "It's not your fault. Besides, now I'm really glad I didn't do it."

This time, the grin comes to my face almost naturally. "I mean, at least you probably wouldn't have thrown a massive tantrum in front of the entire school afterwards."

"You never know."

The silence is back to companionable when it returns. My thoughts turn to William. I should be over him by now. I've told him I'm over him twice already, scornfully at that. He's definitely over me, assuming he ever saw me as anything but an annoying freshman he was forced to watch over.

But then I picture him. His steady, reliable gaze, the rakish grin when he's enjoying himself, the sense of responsibility he feels towards those under his protection...

It's stupid. I burned that bridge. I made that very clear. It wasn't even a proper bridge in the end, no matter what I thought of it. He's never going to see me as someone of equal standing. But I still like him. That's really why I said those harsh words back at the poetry club. Because I was angry and in pain and wanted to hurt him back.

"I'm an idiot."

Only when Ellen startles do I realise I spoke out loud. However, what really surprises me is her immediate shy smile. "You're not. You're clever. And kind."

"And which one of those is more important?"

"They both matter an equal amount."

I'm surprised someone as intelligent as Ellen puts that much stock in kindness. Then I think back on what she told me before, about how boys usually look at her. "No wonder you excel at both."

Ellen's smile is more sad than happy, but it's still a smile. I promise myself I'm going to repay her kindness one way or another. Maybe once I get home, I can send her some rare books from my homeland.

Instead of going back to the gym, we decide to have an early lunch together. We make simple small talk about school affairs until we part ways.

Chapter Text

I wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat. In other words, it's business as usual.

What isn't business as usual is the presence I sense behind my door.

I forget to breathe for a moment. What I don't forget is my magic. The pentachromic system won't ever be a part of me the same way as the magic of my homeland which flows through my veins, but the spell Farsight rises instinctively to the forefront my mind. With it, I look into the corridor.

It's William. He's standing right before my door, hand poised to knock. But he doesn't. After a few moments, he bows his head and leaves.

In seconds, I'm wide awake and upright and scrambling to change into my robes.

As I dash outside, I just barely catch sight of William disappearing behind the corner. My first instinct is to catch up with him and demand to know what he wanted, but my memories of our previous three catasthropic conversations make me reconsider. Instead, I cast Silence on myself. Glad that I kept my studies of Blue Magic up, I prepare to cast Cloak if necessary as I follow after him.

He doesn't go to his dorm. Instead, he heads outside.

I get a creeping sense of déjà vu as I creep after William, my footfalls silenced by the spell. Although the night is warmer than it was back then, the situation is remarkably similar to when I trailed after him to discover the poetry club. Only, this time he walks past the greenhouse.

My curiosity only grows as we walk further and further away from the academy. At some point, I realise the silencing spell has expired and hasten to re-cast it, but apparently Willian is so occupied with his thoughts that he never notices me.

It isn't quite dawn yet, but it's the part of night where the deepest darkness has faded. It's chilly, however, and I begin to wonder just how far William intends to walk. I assumed that since he's moving by foot, he couldn't be going too far, but now...

A thick cloud of cold mist hovers above the Laughing Pond. The temperature drops by several further degrees. I consider which spell would best keep me warm, but my gut instinct tells me I want to save my magic.

And then, just like that, we leave the school grounds behind. All it takes is one step, and while the look of the field around us doesn't change, suddenly the protective spells shielding us are simply gone. 

I look around. The town is far away, looking like a miniature from this distance. The field itself is wild, covered in recently sprouted grass and hay.

William halts. I halt too, feeling exposed even with his back turned to me. Cloak is already on my lips, but in the end, I don't cast it. Why?  Because William's attention is so firmly glued before him that I could probably play a trumpet and still not be heard.

And because seeing who William is so intensely staring at knocks all thought out of me.

The moment before, the field was empty. Now Damien is simply there, his wings pulled close to his body, his blue skin looking all brighter in the rising sunlight.

My heart hammers in my chest. I hastily regain my senses and cast Cloak, then back away, hoping I haven't drawn any attention. I don't flee, however. Whatever is about to happen, I have to witness it.

William doesn't move. For a moment, I think he's as shocked as I am, but as soon as I catch a glimpse of his face, I see the answer is something else completely. He's simmering with silent rage.

Damien smirks. I think back to autumn and those awkward months of cosying up to him. His expression now is somehow both identical and wholly different to what he wore back then. Or perhaps I just didn't see the malicious edge before. "I knew you would come."

William draws in a deep breath. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Damien quirks an eyebrow. The question clearly isn't what he was expecting, but it seems to have amused him regardless. "I have done nothing that isn't in my nature. The real question is, what have you done?"

The ensuing silence is short and shocked. William shakes his head, once and decisively, the end of his ponytail whipping from one side to another. "If I had expected that, I would have—"

"Actually shown up?" Damien interrupts, with a cold anger much akin to what I saw that night when he finally understood his plan had failed. "Is that what you have been telling yourself? Did you really think I had any regard for the brat's well-being?"

William flinches.

Damien's usual self-satisfaction returns at full force."Did you know that he cried out for you as I took the knife to him?"

I have no memory of doing anything of the sort. But one look at William's profile tells me he believes it.

"He kept screaming all the way through." Damien chuckles. "I'm sure he thought that eventually his Prince Charming would come and rescue him. That you couldn't possibly leave him alone with a flesh-hungry demon like—"

"Enough." William's voice is steely quiet and steady in a way that made it clear he's making an effort to keep it so. "What do you want?"

"The same thing I have always wanted." Damien takes a half-step towards William. William doesn't budge, but his back stiffens. "You. Your magic."

William lets out a strangled sound. It could have been laughter, but his words are dripping with nothing but disbelief. "Am I supposed to believe that? You already had me on a silver platter. Why wait all these years?"

Damien is still sporting his infuriating smirk. Meanwhile, I'm thinking. Much like William, I'm also asking why. Only, it's a different why. Damien's earlier plan was obvious enough: using my life and bodily integrity as bargaining chips to get William to hand over his soul. William's goal now is clear as well: revenge. But what's Damien's angle? Why has he invited William all the way to this empty—

I move without thinking, taking the creeping dread filling me as a command. I realise only in retrospect that my actions are going to expose me, but it's already too late: I've cast my spell.

And not a heartbeat too soon. The very moment my teleportation spell grabs William and deposits him some yards behind me, the place where he stood is consumed by fire. Magical fire, icy blue and no doubt cold to the touch, perhaps not as deadly as mundane flames but no doubt incapacitating.

Damien straightens his back, surprise etched on his face. Then, his attention snaps towards me. His eyes narrow.

I raise my hand, preparing to cast Disruption for the inevitable spell he means to fling at me, when a force like a giant anvil strikes the side of my head. The world turns black. What hit me? Stagger? But that shouldn't cause even temporary blindness.

While I'm still trying to gather my bearings, an arm snakes around me from behind and pulls me tightly against its owner. The grip isn't that tight, but when I try to escape it turns to iron.

"You really need to learn to mind your own damn business, brat." I expected Damien to hiss, and he does, but there is a triumphant lilt to his words as he grabs my wrist and yanks it upwards. Nails bite into my flesh. "Unlike your bedroom, this discussion is invitation-only." 

I struggle against his grip, first instinctively, then with great determination. "Let go, you bastard!"

Damien's no longer paying me any attention. His eyes are fixed on William, his teeth absurdly bright in the dawning sunlight. "Here we are, then. In the exact position I had envisioned, no less." 

William stands up so straight I half expect his back to snap. "Let him go."

"I will." Damien's grip tightens. I try not to wince as his nails draw blood. "As soon as you give me what I want."

I open my mouth, all set to tell William that Damien can't kill me, when I realise how strange it is that I can move and speak the first place. Unlike last time, Damien hasn't bothered with the precaution of paralysing me. Perhaps he has come to view me as some kind of a doll rather than a thinking human being.

I'm revolted, of course. The fact I can feel his breath against my ear makes my skin go numb. But above everything else, I'm afire with rage. How dare he treat me like this? How dare he treat anyone like this? How dare he try to force this choice on William?

William takes a deep breath. For a brief moment, our eyes meet.

I already guessed as much, but now I know. He's going to do it. He thinks I'm in mortal peril. I shake my head as minutely as possible, praying Damien won't notice. 

He does anyway, the jerk. "It's simple enough. You sign your powers over to me, or you get to witness first-hand exactly what your little freshman went through because of you."

Something cracks behind William's eyes. 

I draw a sharp breath. "Don't listen to him! Just blast him—"

"That's enough out of you." Damien sounds almost bored as a cone of silence smothers down the rest of my words. 

Since I can no longer speak, I implore William with my gaze instead. Just attack him. I'll be fine. I just saved you, didn't I? Trust me.

Damien's still speaking, but his words are nothing but buzzing in my ears. William wavers, his eyes fixed on mine. They flash, just for an instant. His head jerks down in what may or may not be a nod.

Before I can think better of it, I lunge down and bite Damien's arm.

The layers of cloth shield him, but only so much: Damien's entire body jerks. His grip loosens just for an instant.

It's all I need. I let my legs go limp underneath me and fall to the ground.

An onslaught of fire singes the ends of my hair. Even as I go flat against the grass I feel the sudden surge of warmth against my back and hear the sizzling of flames. Damien screams.

And then it's over. When I look up, only a few sparks remain where Damien stood. He must have fled instead of staying to fight.

William lowers his hands and takes a hesitant step towards me. "Gary? Are you okay?"

I get up. I scuffed my knee in the fall, but everything else is in perfect working order. "Good as new."

He comes closer and peers at me carefully, as though he can't fully trust that I didn't come to harm. When he finally begins to believe it, he takes a deep breath and for the first time months, gives me a hint of a smile. "Thank you."

I blink, unsure if I can play it cool. In the end, I manage to grin back. "Right back at you."

Just for a moment, his smile widens. Then, he looks past me. "We should heard back. Neither of us should have left the school grounds without permission."

I nod. Now that the tension's gone, I begin to feel cold again. I could really go for a quick nap, followed by breakfast. And maybe, just maybe, I can have both before Grabiner sinks his fangs into me.

I honestly thought I had already seen Grabiner as angry as he could possibly get the second time I landed in detention. Turns out I was wrong.

"What were you thinking? Are there any thoughts knocking around in that head of yours? Does your safety mean nothing to you?"

I try not to fidget as my annoyance flares up. I understand why he's angry. I even understand that at least some of that anger is borne out of genuine concern for me. That doesn't make his ranting any easier to bear.

"Last time I checked," I manage, trying not to snarl, "I wasn't exactly safe within the academy either."

For a moment, I'm certain he's going to explode. Then, quite unexpectedly, he drags in a deep breath, his brow furrowing further as he closes his eyes.

"Although that may be the case, that does not diminish the recklessness of your actions," he continues in a voice that clearly only stays level through heroic amounts of willpower.

"I know. But I still think it was the right thing to do."

Grabiner sighs. "As it is so close to the end of the term, there is little point in assigning you detention for the remainder of your Saturdays here."

I sigh in relief. "That's—"

"That does not that I'm not going to do it anyway."

I mean to protest, but the thundercloud lurking just behind his eyes is so ominous that I decide to let it go. Wasting a part of my final weekend at Iris Academy with busywork isn't exactly my idea of fun, but I can live with it. 

I barely listen as Grabiner keeps ranting about the precarious situation I put myself in and how I should have informed someone on the staff instead of sneaking out on my own. Instead, I think of William. We barely spoke on our way back, but it was a tired, peaceble kind of silence instead of a hostile one. I wonder if he's being lectured by Professor Potsdam right now, or if Grabiner's waiting for a chance to chew him out too. I try to imagine William in detention and almost smile.

Grabiner finally releases me with a sharp reminder to see him in detention on Saturday. I head out to the cafeteria for a well-deserved lunch, tired but almost satisfied.

Late in afternoon, as I'm brushing up on some green magic in my room, there's a knock on my door.

I close the book. "Come in."

I get up as William opens the door, straightbacked and unable to fully keep the frown off his face. I could wait for him to speak, but I get the feeling that's going to result in a whole lot of awkward silence. So instead, I smile ruefully. "Did Grabiner get on your case too?"

"Deservedly so."

I move past him to close the door. Strange of him to have left it open in the first place. He doesn't seem to be entirely there. "I don't think there's much he can do to stop you if you decide to skip detention. You must have had perfect merits until now."

"As it happens, yes."

I pull what I hope is a funny face and sit on the bed. "I was close too before the ten demerits he slapped on me today." I half wish I had the guts to encourage William to sit next to me, but even being in the same room feels weirdly intimate. 

"I'm sorry."

"I'll just earn them back during the final exam. Besides, it's not like you forced me to break the rules. I made my own decision to follow you."

"I wish you hadn't had to do that. But even though I came here to apologise, I also came to thank you."

Finally, he meets my eyes. His smile is tremulous and flickers out as soon as I notice it, but its shadow stays in place.

"I completely failed you in regards to Damien. I should never have even mentioned him to you."

"You did it for Ellen's sake." 

"Well, yes. But I should have found another way to protect her." He wires his jaw tight, but keeps looking at me. "At the very least, I shouldn't have abandoned you—"

I raise my hand. Unlike last time, I feel quite calm. Hearing Damien catch fire did wonders to my mood. "We've been through this. You already apologised for that. And I already apologised for exploding at you before that."

"That's not comparable to what I did."

"I don't care. It's over now." The scars on my shoulders itch, but they no longer bother me as much. Even if they'll never quite heal, they're unlikely to fester any time soon. "In any case, I appreciate that you trusted me today. To get out of your spell's way, I mean."

His new smile is brighter than the previous one. "You had just saved my life."

"Probably just your magic."

"I'm in your debt all the same."

We smile at each other. And if the peace between us seems a bit brittle, it is at the very least a peace.

Though I don't think he's quite as eager to treat me with kid gloves as he was before, I decide to assert myself just in case. I toss the book aside. "Donald and Luke always hide snacks in their room. Think we could ask them for some and go out for a picnic?"

William blinks slowly. When he finally replies, his tone is cautious, but optimistic. "I think I would like that."

And so we go ahead and enjoy the sunlight and the slightly dented snack packs generously handed to us by Donald and Luke. We don't talk about anything of importance. I don't know if we ever will, given how little time we have left together.

At the same time, who knows? Things seem very bright right now. As bright as the radiance of William's smile.