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Burning Hatred
I tried my hair up in pigtails to give myself the appearance of innocence, but that reasoning didnt make it less degrading. I had done everything I could to look naive but I couldn't shake my own stare, it was too cold, too knowing. I just had to hope for the best when it came to tricking the teachers at Rustins Boarding School. It was an esteemed establishment for teaching green and white magic, but it detested any sort of black magic. The hardest part of the whole operation was hiding my practice while keeping with my praying.
I reminded myself of who thos all was for, my elderly father who just a few steps away from death's door. I needed to learn how to heal him but that spell wasn't taught to me. No green or white witch would ever assist me so I was left to my devices. All I had to do bury my hatred for them for a few months and get the hell out of here.
I slung a pink carrier bag over my shoulder and whispered a quick plea for strength as I left my dorm room. The hall says where comically and impossibly hard to navigate but at least they where pleasant to look at. Royal blue carpets covered the floor with golden accents and the walls where an easy cream color. Every so often I would pass another which studying furiously to get ahead before school even stared. I took mental notes of each girl I passed as to improve my facade.
Finally I reached the main hall, which was filled to the brim with students. Most them wore good luck charms or held protection jars in their hands. The staircase and walls where made with enchanted dark oak wood that look stunning against the red carpet. I had to admit, even thought the so-called good witches where cruel, they knew how to decorate. I pushed my way past the heaps of nervous students and marched into my my first class, history of the deities. I was about 5 minutes early so I took a seat in the middle of the class by the edge. I observed the teacher, a plump woman in her 30 who wore her hair in a bun. She was writing her name on the board, Ms. Fleming.
5 students had arrived before, most not notable, but there was a boy who had awful burn scars all over one arm. He stared pentitivly at me while clicking his pen. This didnt unnerve me, but i took note of it nonetheless. I watched the bell chime 6 times and the last students trip over themselves to get into the class room. Ms. Fleming watched each take their and smiled warmly at the class.
"Welcome to your first course Honors course in the history of the deities! You my have read about the fables we associate with them, but in this class we will be digging into the symbolism and real world geography of the events!" I could the dreadful auras emanating off about half class when she gave the overview. My main goal might be to become proficient in healing magic, but if I were to increase my grimoire by s few chapter I would complain.
"First things first" Ms. Fleming continued in her hyper cheerful voice. "We need to identify which deities are respected ro work with, and which are not" I felt a shiver go down my spine, this wasn't where i want this conversation to go.
"We ask all of students to refrain from worshipping any deities that might relate to Yolan" I felt that rage I buried this morning trying to claw it's way out. Yolan was my father's official name.
"Now I know some of you have heard rumors about him, and we assure you we have the situation under control. The consul is very close to capturing his soul so our students can rest once more" I felt my whole world stop and shift. I knew my mission was to save his life, but I never knew how grave the stakes where. I counted this as a blessing, I could stop this evil plot at the source. I knew many consul members taught classes here, all I needed to do was eliminate them. No big deal, right? I mean their only trying- and nearly succeeding- to murder the most powerful black wizard of all time.
© Maye Hoffman
I reminded myself of who thos all was for, my elderly father who just a few steps away from death's door. I needed to learn how to heal him but that spell wasn't taught to me. No green or white witch would ever assist me so I was left to my devices. All I had to do bury my hatred for them for a few months and get the hell out of here.
I slung a pink carrier bag over my shoulder and whispered a quick plea for strength as I left my dorm room. The hall says where comically and impossibly hard to navigate but at least they where pleasant to look at. Royal blue carpets covered the floor with golden accents and the walls where an easy cream color. Every so often I would pass another which studying furiously to get ahead before school even stared. I took mental notes of each girl I passed as to improve my facade.
Finally I reached the main hall, which was filled to the brim with students. Most them wore good luck charms or held protection jars in their hands. The staircase and walls where made with enchanted dark oak wood that look stunning against the red carpet. I had to admit, even thought the so-called good witches where cruel, they knew how to decorate. I pushed my way past the heaps of nervous students and marched into my my first class, history of the deities. I was about 5 minutes early so I took a seat in the middle of the class by the edge. I observed the teacher, a plump woman in her 30 who wore her hair in a bun. She was writing her name on the board, Ms. Fleming.
5 students had arrived before, most not notable, but there was a boy who had awful burn scars all over one arm. He stared pentitivly at me while clicking his pen. This didnt unnerve me, but i took note of it nonetheless. I watched the bell chime 6 times and the last students trip over themselves to get into the class room. Ms. Fleming watched each take their and smiled warmly at the class.
"Welcome to your first course Honors course in the history of the deities! You my have read about the fables we associate with them, but in this class we will be digging into the symbolism and real world geography of the events!" I could the dreadful auras emanating off about half class when she gave the overview. My main goal might be to become proficient in healing magic, but if I were to increase my grimoire by s few chapter I would complain.
"First things first" Ms. Fleming continued in her hyper cheerful voice. "We need to identify which deities are respected ro work with, and which are not" I felt a shiver go down my spine, this wasn't where i want this conversation to go.
"We ask all of students to refrain from worshipping any deities that might relate to Yolan" I felt that rage I buried this morning trying to claw it's way out. Yolan was my father's official name.
"Now I know some of you have heard rumors about him, and we assure you we have the situation under control. The consul is very close to capturing his soul so our students can rest once more" I felt my whole world stop and shift. I knew my mission was to save his life, but I never knew how grave the stakes where. I counted this as a blessing, I could stop this evil plot at the source. I knew many consul members taught classes here, all I needed to do was eliminate them. No big deal, right? I mean their only trying- and nearly succeeding- to murder the most powerful black wizard of all time.
© Maye Hoffman
