The Clouds of Everbloom

Published 2019 Copyright © Matthew Teague, 2019 The right of Matthew Teague to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author. www.matthewjteague.com

The Clouds of Everbloom

My palm over my chest, I sensed the swirling energy within my body. I gripped my left hand and flinging it away from me I opened my fingers.

A small spark erupted from within my hand and flickered and shimmered two feet before its brilliant orange light flickered out.

“Boroven’s Hole,” I cursed.

I heard a snickering laugh and a soft voice muttered, “If father heard you say that Leola he’d make you go to bed without dinner.”

I turned to face my brother, Harte. He leant against the long-dead oak tree standing in the middle of the grassy courtyard. His hands were busy twisting and bending a twig as he gazed toward the curtain wall of the castle.

“You swear far more often than me! Besides the only way father would hear me is if you told him,” I said pointing at him, “You’re not a traitor are you?”

The twig Harte had been playing with snapped between his fingers at my accusation, “Me? A traitor? God’s no.”

I watched the boy for a moment. Our parent's absence had forced him to mature faster than I would have liked. Now the thoughts of a child became tempered with the words of adolescence, a disturbing fact.

Around us, like besiegers surrounding a castle played the other children of Everbloom. A dizzying display of colourful shirts, childish laughter and boundless energy.

Beneath the children's unstoppable gambolling lay a crushed and broken field of violets. The purple splashes the namesake for the castle they now played within.

Still, the violets clung to life with the persistence of a disease. Like a beautiful illness upon the landscape, they spread. Infesting, invading and strangling, no soil was too barren, no shadow too dark for them to live. They thrived upon hardship.

A smile touched my lips as I remembered what one teacher had told me when I asked where the violets had originated. She said a handsome and powerful King who had married a foreign Queen inhabited Everbloom.

Every day the Queen lived away from her homeland the more this happy girl faded into misery. The King loving his wife and wanting to please her planted violets from her homeland every day. He worked until a dull lifeless fortress in the middle of nowhere became a beautiful reminder of his love's country.

Two young boys chasing each other came too close to the oak tree for my liking. I fixed them with a glare.

Being both older and larger than they were the boys retreated, the blood draining from their faces as our eyes met.

“They want to play under the tree too, I don’t know why you’re so mean all the time,” observed Harte, “Why can’t you be like normal girls?”

“This is our tree…” I said, ignoring his question, “… tell them to find their own.”

I looked at the wall separating the courtyard we played in from the courtyard our parents enjoyed. Unlike most of the castle, this wall stood dark and imposing, made of newer materials. Its stones were dimmer and smaller and steel spikes ridged the top of it preventing anyone from climbing them.

I allowed the desperate hunger to graduate and join my parents in the adult magic classes to fill me. A sense of calm and focus seized my mind and concentrated my thoughts. I placed a hand upon my chest and with my other, I closed my grip. Summoning my energy I flung the hand away from me, opening my fingers at the last moment.

A spark shot forth before dissipating several inches from the ground.

I sighed.

“You’ve been trying all morning, our lessons don’t even start until after lunch,” complained Harte, “Let’s go play a game, it’ll be fun.”

The high pitched cackling laugh of several children playing assaulted my ears. I winced at the sound and felt a slither of irritation stir.

“Games are for children. Besides, I am having fun.”

“Magic is boring,” complained Harte, “It’s for pismires and scoundrels. It’s all they talk about in this accursed school; it’s torture. How about some variety? Let’s learn other things too. Like horse breeding, there is something interesting. Or swordplay, that’s cool too.”

He laughed to himself, as his foot bounced, “Or metalwork, bee-keeping, baking-”

I sighed and allowed my shoulders to slump as I turned back to him, interrupting his list, “Well this isn’t a school for those things. It’s a school of magic and as such, you should be practising too. The more you fall behind in your lessons the longer it'll take you to join our parents. I won't be here forever, soon enough I'll prove myself worthy to join Mother and Father, then what will you do?”

The corner of Harte’s mouth tugged downward for a moment, “I’m not scared,” he said, “I’ll be fine.”

I stared up at the white branches of the oak tree. They zigzagged above me, their dead leafless forms reaching toward the sun but long having forgotten why they did so.

It reminded me of the tall pine in the centre of our village. It seemed most natural to gravitate toward the peaceful constancy of the natural world and to build our temporary holdings around it.

My forehead crinkled into a dozen lines as I frowned. If someone hadn’t built this castle around the tree and sunk a well into the ground, the tree would still be alive. The notion we survived off the water the tree had trusted to keep itself alive abhorred me.

“You’re an awful magician Harte unless you take it seriously you’ll never graduate,” I stared at the air in front of me. I wished my fire spell to burst into life.

“Markus says I’m doing fine for my age,” said Harte crossing his arms, “I don’t even like magic and I hate this place. We haven’t seen Mother and Father once since we arrived. We’re not even allowed to leave, it’s a prison. We should never have come here.”

“Mother and Father trusted them, so we should too,” I raised my eyebrows and continued my practice, “You should be glad the unskilled started this school. If it can help us learn how to control our abilities and help the unskilled feel less threatened than it’s a great idea. You’re too young to remember what it’s like outside living with the constant threat of discovery and torment. Would you really prefer to have stayed in the village?”

“Yes.”

My nose filled with the memory of burning timber, “After what happened to our house?”

Harte fell quiet.

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose; rubbing it. A moment later I dropped my fingers from my face and left my practice. Sitting down beside him I crushed a violet attempting to grow in the dry dirt.

I plucked the flower and twirled it in my fingers. Marvelling at how the purple hues graduated to black before a sudden explosion of fiery yellow filled its centre. It would have been beautiful if it weren’t for the black spots of disease mottling the otherwise perfect petals.

I hugged my knees and thought about the lost life of the flower. With a little love and care, it would flourish. But I had other responsibilities. A flick of my fingers and I cast the flower from my grip. I turned to look at Harte.

“Sorry,” I said nudging him with my shoulder, “It wasn’t your fault what happened to our home.”

I felt my chest tighten and press upon me as I thought of how Harte must’ve felt believing it to be his fault we had to leave our village. The truth sat upon my tongue ready to relieve him of his pain, yet I could not bring myself to share it with him.

I licked my lips as a chill gripped my body. What if my parents aren’t happy to see me when I graduate?

“I know. It’s just,” Harte tapped his fingers and his bottom lip quivered, “They found out we were magicians, anyway. We sacrificed so much to keep our secret… We could have saved Lode.”

“The boy kicked by the horse?” I asked, trying to remember whether Harte and he were friends.

Of course they were friends, he’s friends with everyone.

As I tried to think of what my parents would say to reassure Harte, I noticed two violets a short distance from my foot.

The plants were drooping toward one another. From where I sat they looked like two knights tilting their lances about to joust.

I punched him in the shoulder playfully, “Toughen up kid. No one likes cry-babies.”

“I’m not a cry baby,” he said pushing me back, “Don’t call me that you sard scrubber.”

“Someone’s got to toughen you up,” I said as I rubbed my arms trying to warm myself, “Otherwise you’d be friends with all the losers here.”

“They’re not losers. And I am friends with them,” he said with a small smile, “I like them.”

“You like everyone.”

“Well, you like no one so one of us has to make sure this whole place doesn’t hate us.”

I shrugged as I tucked a short rebellious bang back beneath my platted leather headband, “Let them hate us. I’ll beat up anyone who disrespects us.”

Harte rolled his eyes.

Ensuring no one had gambolled too close to my tree I settled in. My eyes watched the billowing black smoky tendrils of the castle’s chimney wind its way into the sky. I felt my body stiffen and my face pout as I thought of how I was stuck with these children.

No matter the season, no matter the weather, the smoke always climbed from the chimney reminding me my parents were close by. I allowed the sight to soothe my mind as the drifting column danced upon the wind.

Encouraged I stood and returning to my earlier position prepared to practice my magic.

I paused as I watched the many bees’ work to collect the precious pollen inhabiting the surrounding flowers throats. They seemed the only creatures with the same work ethic as myself. The children about me were lazy and too inclined to have fun for my liking.

I wondered what species they belonged. They looked so different from the large buzzing bees we had kept near our house. These bees were smaller and more aggressive.

One flower sagged under a bee’s weight and the creature struggled to keep its footing. It looked the same as its brethren, orange and black striped with a vicious stinger protruding from its abdomen.

Watching it struggle to cling to the flower it became clear this bee had no particular talent for collecting pollen. Despite this flaw, the bee clung to the flower with stubborn assuredness. The creature pulled itself deeper into the purple petals. Several moments later it emerged, its legs covered in pollen.

Summoning my own stubborn persistence I placed one hand upon my chest and continued to try casting a fireball.

“Seriously? You can’t stop for a few seconds?” asked Harte, “The other kids are staring.”

I stopped my practice and turned around, “Who’s staring? Point to them and I’ll bloody their nose.”

Harte produced a small blade from his pocket and began removing the bark from the stick he held, “No one is staring, I was making a point.”

Shaking my head, I didn’t bother to ask Harte where he got the knife from and why the teachers allowed him to keep it. His pockets always bulged with an assortment of items he had found or received.

My spark shot forth a moment after I finished the move; a fizzling disappointment of what the spell should be. At precisely the wrong moment a bee flew in front of my hand.

With a sharp snap, the insect erupted into a tiny inferno. The burnt remnants of its body streaked through the air. Landing at the base of the oak tree.

I blinked as I stared at the ground.

The bee's burning remains vanished through the dirt.

“Harte,” I said as I took a step toward where the bee had disappeared.

I jumped back swearing as a face popped from the ground followed by a pair of shoulders and the rest of the girl’s body.

I recognised her, “Thayer?”

She recoiled as I spoke and turned to bolt. Realising she stood too close to the oak I grabbed her.

Although we were the same age, she stood both shorter and narrower than me. Throwing her to the ground proved an easy feat.

She rolled and jumping to her feet with practised ease threw a punch toward my nose.

I stepped to the side, feeling the air rush past my face as her fist missed its mark.

I punched her in the side.

The girl grunted and dropped to the ground, panting.

“Thayer?” said Harte gasping as he rounded the tree.

About to kick her in the chest, Harte leapt between us, “Leave her alone.”

“She’s too close to my tree,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Swine,” breathed Thayer, clutching her side.

My innards turned cold, and I pushed Harte out of the way. A moment later my foot connected with Thayer’s side. She rolled to reduce the impact and kicking out struck my other leg knocking me off balance.

I fell to one knee, stunned she had the nerve to stand up to me.

“Stop it,” shouted Harte as he prevented Thayer from punching me in the face.

A haunted, wild look consumed Thayer’s expression as if she were willing to kill me if she needed. I wondered what had gotten her so riled up.

In the time I had known her Thayer had shown the emotional variance of a cloud. She drifted upon the wind never caring for anything beyond her own thoughts and company. So whatever had turned this cloud into a thunderstorm both piqued my interest and gave me a lingering sense of dread I couldn’t shake.

Getting to my feet I made a show of being unhurt by flexing my muscles as if loosening up to continue the fight.

Thayer stood still and watched me with squinted eyes and an upturned lip.

“Leola, leave her alone,” said Harte recognising my wish to fight.

“She started it,” I said pointing, “She climbed out of the ground.”

Thayer snorted and rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“Out of the ground? What are you talking about?”

“Look for yourself,” I nodded like doing so would make me sound less crazy, “By that root there.”

Harte went to where I pointed and touched the ground, frowning the whole while. His hand passed all the way through. He leapt back and fell in his haste.

“Hethvar’s cock!” he swore as he stared at the ground, “Is that a spell? An illusion? You shouldn’t be able to do that magic, not at your age.”

Thayer’s eyes twinkled as she crossed her arms. A southern breeze tugged at her hair. Upon the breeze came a warm reprieve to the cold days of winter.

“Do the teachers know?” asked Harte.

“Don’t tell them,” Thayer’s face hardened.

“What if we do?” I asked, allowing a hateful grin to twist my features, “I’m sure they’d want to know you’re better at magic than you show them.”

She planted one foot before her as she leant forward in a show of force, “I am better at magic than they think. I’m also a lot better than you are.”

I felt the urge to punch her again yet the overwhelming need for an explanation proved too strong to resist, “What were you doing down there?”

Thayer swallowed as she glanced around making sure no one else had taken an interest in what the three of us were doing, “Escaping.”

“Escaping what?” I laughed.

“This place.”

“What for? They feed us, care for us and teach us. Why-”

“They don’t care for us,” spat Thayer.

“Well, they care for most of-”

“You’re a fool,” said Thayer pointing at me, “People are all bastards. If you haven’t realised that, then you’re more stupid than I thought.”

My mouth hung open, “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” She said jutting her chin.

“What are you talking about?” Asked Harte in a suspicious voice.

“I would leave but… I couldn’t, not without telling someone. Why do you think they bought us all here?” Thayer fixed him with a hard look.

I allowed my eyes to narrow as I stepped between her and Harte. Crossing my arms I said, “They’re teaching us to control our magic so we don’t pose a risk to those without our skills.”

“That’s the hogshit they told us to get us through the door,” snorted Thayer.

I shook my head rejecting her paranoia, “How old are you?”

“What? Why?” She said stepping backward.

“Answer the question.”

Thayer’s lips sealed.

“She’s a child Harte, don’t listen to her,” I said waving my hand.

“What are they doing?” asked Harte, ignoring me.

Thayer glared at me.

“Thayer?” said Harte reaching out, an understanding expression pulling his lips into a soft smile.

My breath caught as Thayer’s expression softened when she looked to Harte, “I… I cannot say.”

“See,” I said as I struggled with the idea Harte may be friends with Thayer, “She’s making things up, what were you-”

“Some things are so horrible you shouldn't share them,” said Thayer glowering, “What I know would destroy you both. Are you sure you wish to know?”

Harte nodded.

Flinging up my hands I said, “Oh come on Harte, she’s crazy don’t listen to her,” I winced as my voice cracked on the last word.

Ignoring me Thayer knelt to eye level with Harte, “I tunnelled into the castle looking for a way out. Instead, I found…” The fiery glint that had moments before consumed her eyes now dulled as her mind’s eye probed into the past. Her eyes pricked like she was struggling to hold back the emotions within her, “Bodies.”

“Bodies?” asked Harte looking scared.

I set my jaw but held my tongue.

“I saw hundreds of bodies. Stacked…” She motioned with her hands and continued in an emotion thick voice, “Layers of flesh, they’ve got giant furnaces inside the castle. That’s what the smoke is.”

“They’re burning bodies to keep warm?” I asked.

The anger I expected from Thayer never arrived instead she seemed overwhelmed by a look of horror, “That’s how they get rid of them.”

“Get rid of whom?” I said feeling my stomach clench.

Thayer’s blue eyes looked up at me, surrounded by pools of fear, “The parents.”

It felt like a pain in my heart. Like Thayer's words had lodged there congealing into a hard lump. This mound of evil froze my innards and left me bereft of hope.

“What?” I said, not wanting to believe her words, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“They’re studying us,” said Thayer, “They’re learning what they can about magic from us. When we become too powerful, they allow us to graduate… Then they burn us.”

Shaking my head my mind raced to poke holes in her story.

Before I could, Harte pulled at my arm. His eyes were brimming with tears as he said in a choked voice, “Mother and Father?”

My teeth ground and my muscles clenched as I saw my little brother’s world breaking in two. Pulling him close into an embrace I spun to face Thayer, “This isn’t true. It cannot be, no one would allow these things to happen. You’ve made Harte cry, how could you be so wicked?”

I tightened my embrace upon Harte, feeling the convulsing of his sobbing.

A tear ran down Thayer’s face. Placing one hand upon her chest to summon her energy for a spell she ran her hand over her eyes. She proffered the hand to me.

Wincing as I tried to swallow through my dry throat I nodded and she placed her extended hand upon my forehead.

My vision flashed white.

Am I unconscious? No… It’s dark. Where has she transported me?

My head shifted involuntarily. I stared down a dark hallway. My eyes flickered to the small sliver of light creeping from beneath a doorway.

My head again moved without my consent as I stared down at my hands, only they weren't my hands, but Thayer’s. She lifted herself from a hole she had created with magic. Using a movement I didn't recognise the hole disappeared, replaced by an illusion of a stone floor the same as the rest of the corridor.

Turning to the door Thayer crept forward. Checking over her shoulder ensuring no one caught her.

Her hand reached up to the doorknob and twisted.

Locked.

Checking the corridor again she ensured no one had discovered her before, ever so slowly, she placed her eye to the keyhole.

Within that tiny snatch of light, three large mouths occupied the far wall. Flames belched from within as their steel doors were open. In leather armour, unrecognisable men moved about the furnaces carrying…

Thayer moved from the keyhole and placed a hand over her mouth resisting the urge to vomit.

After a moment, she peered through.

I tried to look away. I tried to clamp my eyes shut and tear myself from the door but I could not. Trapped within Thayer’s memory I had no choice. I looked where she looked, and right now she stared at a pile of bodies.

They had stripped their lives and anything else of value from them leaving a pile of naked flesh two metres tall. Their expressions were lifeless shadows of their last moments in this life.

I could see no blood, no stab wounds, burns or anything else showing how they died. They could have been asleep save for the stillness of their chests and the expressionless faces that no longer looked upon the mortal plane.

Finally, my torture drew to an end as the memory faded.

I staggered back from Thayer like someone had struck me. Unable to contain myself my stomach contents lurched forth from my mouth. It splattered upon one of the roots of the oak tree.

Harte patted my back, still wiping tears from his eyes as he tried to look after me. Ignoring him I looked at her and said, “Tell me that wasn’t real?”

Thayer closed her eyes, her whole posture wilting. She shook her head, “I’m sorry.”

I stifled an involuntary groan of agony. Leaving Harte at arm’s length I slumped to the ground. It took all my effort to keep myself from crying in front of them.

I stared at the nearest section of the castle wall trying to defend myself from my besieging emotions. The violets that grew within the cracks of the wall climbed and pulled one another. In their desperate struggle for life, they were willing to choke and smother the life from their peers.

Closing my eyes and feeling sick I twisted to look at Harte. Behind him loomed the castle. The black smoke still spewed into the sky, a tendril of hell trying to pull the heavens from their cloudy perch. I retched again.

Had I been looking at the smoke when my parents burnt? Did I find it beautiful? Did I wonder at their comfort for having a year-round fire and wish I could join them?

The memory of our house enshrouded by flames came to mind. They had destroyed the timbers I was born beneath. The wood that for so long served as the foundations of my life. Gone in a matter of hours. Smoke from that fiery desolation had wound its way into the sky. As I watched it I had wondered how a place of so many memories could dissipate into the atmosphere with so little ceremony.

I could feel my eyes growing cold and flinty as I thought of how the villagers, our former friends had cheered at the sight. The fear in my father’s eyes and the wicked fury that engulfed my mother as our small family fled the scene of destruction.

I pulled my gaze from the black nebulous treachery and the dark memory within. I fixed Thayer with a hard look, “Why would they?” shaking my head, “They can’t be…”

Harte tightened his embrace upon me.

This will destroy him.

I looked at the top of his head as I held him; I needed to be strong for him.

Holding Harte away from me I stared into his red irritated eyes, “Listen to me. Our parents were strong magicians and the smartest people I know. If Thayer is telling the truth, then they would have escaped. Do you hear me, Harte? They must still be alive.”

Harte wiped at his eyes as he gave a small unsure nod.

That’s all the belief I needed from him, “Your tunnel… Did you find a way out?”

Thayer shook her head, “Arcane barriers surround the castle preventing any magic from passing through. That’s why I dug into the castle; I thought I could steal a horse or something.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“When I saw… I couldn’t. I trust none of you but I don’t think you deserve that fate either,” Thayer shifted.

“So you came back why? To save everyone? How? You must have a plan?”

“I don’t have a plan. I just… I couldn’t leave everyone behind without at least warning them.”

Taking a deep breath I nodded, “I don’t care about the other children. We three need to leave, now.”

“Us three?” stammered Thayer.

“You can’t,” said Harte. He pushed himself from me and wiping his nose tried to stand tall, “You can’t leave them.”

“I’m your big sister, not theirs. I need to keep you safe,” I said, feeling attacked.

“I won’t let you abandon them,” said Harte.

“What would you have me do?” I said with a toss of my hands, “We can’t all go down the tunnel and expect none of the teachers to notice.”

Thayer frowned, “I’m sorry Harte, but… She is right, we can’t save everyone.”

“How can you say that when you came back?” asked Harte, “You have to believe it's worth at least trying?”

“I will not risk your life for their sakes,” I said gesturing at the other kids still played obliviously in their slaughterhouse. Pointing at the hole I said, “We could escape right now and find mother and father, they’ll know what to do.”

Harte shook his head, “They won’t let us come back and help these people. You know that. They’ll hide from the world like they always do.”

I felt a knot twist within my belly, “What barriers prevent magic passing?” I asked Thayer.

Thayer shrugged, “Only other magic could do that.”

“So another magician is helping them?”

Thayer nodded.

I felt a deep repulsion someone could do something so horrible to their own kind. Turning to Harte I said, “If there’s another magician on their side then we’ll be lucky if we three can escape let alone the entire school. None of us is strong enough to stand against him.”

“Not alone,” said Harte, clenching his fists, “But there’s more of us than them.”

“They’re children,” I said wrinkling my nose.

Harte pointed at the castle, “And they’re adults. If being powerful but cruel is what it means to grow up, then I hope I never do. Let us try to free ourselves.”

My brother; the last place I expected wisdom to pour forth from, spoke with undeniable reasoning. The fount for this wisdom affected me as much as the words he spoke and caused me to question my courage.

I had tried for so long to be an adult; to embrace my own age now loomed as a daunting prospect. But still, that fear paled compared to what would happen if I didn’t.

I looked at Thayer for help but her emotions were still covered beneath a blank stare. Like she was compensating for her earlier emotional outburst.

I threw my hands into the air, “Neither of us is powerful enough to fight this magician.”

“If only mother and father were here. They’d be able to save everyone,” said Harte in a small voice.

A spark flashed within his words. It flew from his tongue into the tinderbox of my mind where it ignited an idea. My lips twisted into a smile, “You’re right,” I said, “Harte, you’re so right.”

Harte looked at me before flicking a look of concern toward Thayer.

I ignored the look and held out my hands, “I don’t care about the other kids. But I can’t leave you so if we have to risk it all for them then... I know a way.”

“How?” asked Thayer with a look so plain she may as well have just called me an imbecile, “You were just saying-”

“Harte was right. We’re not alone.”

“The kids aren’t-” started Thayer.

“Strong enough, I know. But the adults are.”

“The teachers will not help us,” said Thayer tossing her hands.

“Not the teachers,” I pointed at the wall separating the two courtyards, “The parents.”

Thayer blinked, “You saw my memory, the parents are dead.”

“All of them? If that were true they wouldn’t need to separate the courtyard.”

Thayer looked sceptical but Harte entertained the possibility, “So you think there’s some still alive?”

“Why go through this effort just to kill all the magicians?” I asked, “If they’re studying us maybe they’re doing the same thing with the parents.”

“If it were so easy why wouldn’t they escape themselves?” Asked Thayer, the concentration on her face a sure indicator she saw what I saw.

“Because,” said Harte, “They’ve got us. We could be being used as hostages.”

Thayer fell quiet as she thought about what I had said. When she didn't reply I glanced at Harte who shrugged.

Before I could say anything she roused herself from her considerations, “So what’s your plan then?”

I pointed toward the wall, “We have to destroy it.”

The children stopped playing as they saw us approaching. Like a shark swimming through a school of fish, they split before us. Keeping a safe distance they tried not to give me a reason to hurt any of them.

“Praise Harwen,” said Thayer as we walked, “I thought your plan would be something difficult. Remind again how you intend on destroying an entire wall when you can’t summon so much as a spark?”

I felt my face redden, and I tried to ignore the sensation. Attempting to keep an even tone I replied, “Well I was hoping you would be strong enough to do something about it.”

“Me?” scoffed Thayer, “I took months to dig out the tunnel, it’d take me scores more to dig a big enough hole to compromise this wall.”

We stopped before the looming barrier.

The children watched with quiet apprehension. When it became clear we were doing nothing of interest, they returned to their games.

I looked up at the castle. On the steps were two teachers, their blue robes obscuring their rubber clubs. If they thought a child to misbehave then they'd brandish these clubs with all the force of a god. The two weren't paying any particular attention to the children, instead, they seemed locked in a serious conversation.

They were so engrossed in conversation they failed to notice our small party standing by the wall.

“Well?” I asked, turning to Thayer.

“Well what?”

“Are you going to try?”

Thayer recoiled, “Were you not listening?”

“Only to you being weak.”

“I am not weak,” She folded her arms.

“Hey,” said Harte, “Let’s not get into another fist fight.

I stared at Thayer waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t I said, “Coward.”

“Well, what if it works? They’ll see me using magic and the wall cracking and they’ll be on me before I even have a chance to so much as destroy a single brick.”

“You need a distraction,” said Harte turning to me, “You could start a fight.”

“A fight?” I laughed, “There isn’t anyone here stupid enough to fight me.”

“Not amongst the students,” said Harte with a detached air.

I couldn’t believe I had heard what Harte had said. Feeling as if I must have misinterpreted his intention I asked, “Do you mean a teacher?”

Harte nodded.

“They have clubs Harte,” I shook my head and pointed at them, “Not to mention they’re grown adults.”

“Now who’s being weak,” said Thayer smugly.

I fixed her with a warning look.

Harte shrugged, “No one said you had to win. You just have to buy Thayer enough time to undermine the wall.”

“You said it could take a score of months,” I protested, “There must be another way.”

“I can’t bring the wall down, not in a single day, but I first have to find out whether it’s even possible.”

I looked at them both, “And if it’s not?”

“Then we’ll make another plan,” said Harte, “They’re teachers not guards, I know for certain you’ve been in tougher fights than this. Besides, if you don’t do this and we don’t find a way to get the parents out then we’re all doomed, anyway.”

“Some of us sooner than others,” I muttered to myself, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Before I could turn away Thayer grabbed me, either side of my face and stared at me, “If you betray us, I will kill Harte.”

I blinked, the intensity of her stare left no room for doubt she meant what she said, “Get off me,” I said pushing her hands from me.

She allowed me to escape her grip.

Without wanting to think upon neither her words nor the looming fight I turned from them. Stalking up the low hill toward the entrance to the castle where the two teachers still stood talking.

Above them, the castle stood, a monument to human creativity and malevolence. Tall spires reached into the sky where they stood as a monolithic statement we had mastered the world and would bend and shape it at our leisure.

As I approached the two teachers eyed me. I hadn't noticed it before but I thought I saw their posture stiffen as I approached like they hated my existence.

“I want to talk to Misstress Kalo,” I said attempting to walk past them.

One teacher barred my path with his extended arm.

“What about?”

I fixed him with a stern look, “Why haven’t I graduated yet?”

The man chuckled, “Go and play kid. The mistress is busy.”

“I want to see her,” I said glowering.

The other teacher, a bald man with a black and grey beard puffed out his chest, “Listen to Donas kid.”

I allowed my face to settle into a smug smile.

With a sharp nod, I feigned a turn before I rammed my fist into the bald man’s crotch. He keeled over in pain emitting a high-pitched squeal as he fell to his knees.

Donas winced in sympathetic pain for his comrade’s plight. He pulled his club from his robes and lifted the whistle to his large lips.

Before he could blow upon it I charged the man. My shoulder connected with his waist as I tried to take his immense weight from under him.

Donas battered his rubber club down upon my back with surprising ferocity. Lances of pain ricocheted through my body with each strike.

I reached up and clawed the man’s face.

My nails caught upon skin and a wet sensation covered my hand followed by his cry.

He pushed me off him and staggered back several steps. He clutched at his face where three vertical gashes tore from his forehead to his temple.

In the far-flung reaches of my concentration, I became aware of the other children. They had forgotten their games as their eyes became fixed on me.

The bald man now held to a shrieking whistle to his lips ringing out across the grassy courtyard.

I winced at its piercing note and felt a wave of dizziness threaten to knock me over.

The sound pulled Donas from his pain and with clenched teeth he swung out toward me with his club.

He struck me across the face and I twisted back landing upon the ground. My vision flickered as the world bulged and shrank about me.

Pushing myself to my feet I received another whack across the shoulder blades. I fell to my knees in the dirt.

His club struck me again and again. I turned with my arms in front of me trying to protect my face.

Donas’s skin flushed turning it a mottled red and a guttural cry tore through his lips. He bought his club down like he was trying to split my skull, again and again.

With each strike, I felt his anger but even more obvious stood his fear. It clung to his expression lending him a manic look of desperation as if he now defended himself from a wicked and dangerous beast.

The bald man placed a hand on Donas’s shoulder and he started. After a moment he realised, no foe had touched him. Nodding to his peer he restrained the adrenaline-fuelled fury that gripped him.

Before the bald man could strike me a desperate Harte flung himself between us, “No, please stop.”

The bald man paused, his club raised high.

“She’s sorry, she didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Outta the way, runt,” said the bald man.

I felt Thayer grasp my arm and help me to my feet. I looked at her questioningly.

She set her mouth into a grim line and shook her head, “I can’t do it. There are weaknesses in the wall but… I’m not strong enough to destroy it.”

Despair filled me.

With a crash, the door to the castle flew open as five other teachers came streaming out, their clubs at the ready.

The group approached us. Leading it at the fore came Mistress Kalo. A silver circlet glinted in the sun as it held back long tresses of blonde hair. Her sneering lips and wild eyes marred her striking female image.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she asked severely.

“The girl wanted to speak with you,” said Donas, “We tried to stop her but she attacked us.”

She nodded as her face grew confused. Her black eyebrows rose as she looked at me; compacting the otherwise taut skin upon her forehead.

Such innocence whined within her questioning gaze that for a moment I wondered whether any of it had been real. Had Thayer just been playing tricks upon me?

Still, try as I might, I couldn't forget the faces of the dead. I wanted more than anything to trust Kalo and feel comforted my parents were still alive, but I could not go back. Thayer had revealed the truth and I could never trust them again, “I want to know why I have not graduated yet,” I said trying to sound angry.

Kalo recoiled as if I had sworn at her, “We spoke of this two days ago. You have one final test to pass before you are worthy of entering the adult magic lessons.”

“Oh… Yes,” I said, “I had forgotten.”

Kalo’s eyes narrowed as for the first time she noticed Thayer and Harte, “What is going on here Leola?”

“I just wanted to know,” I said staring at her polished black leather boots.

Bending at the waist she peered at my face for several long moments, “I don’t believe you,” she said, “This is why a school such as ours is so necessary. Children are all liars but what is most disturbing is when they have the unnatural ability to reshape the world around them however they see fit. That is a dangerous prospect, one which we cannot allow. I know you to be a mature student Leola, so you understand what I am saying. Now, tell me what you’re up to and I shan’t be mad?”

Thayer stared at me as she brushed dirt from her shirt. It seemed she half expected me to tell them everything.

Ignoring her, I stared at Kalo and kept my mouth shut.

She looked at Thayer and Harte in turn with a great deal of interest. Then she straightened her back and declared to the other teachers, “Take her. I would speak to her in my room.”

Before I could so much as twitch a muscle Donas and the bald man seized me by either arm and carried me toward the door.

I could hear Harte yelling as he tried to come after me but the other teachers stopped him. Turning my head, I watched as one of them clubbed Harte in the side of the head. He fell to the ground, stunned.

Feeling my chest heave and nostrils flare I threw the bald man off one arm and bit Donas. The man jumped back clutching his arm and cried. I ran to where Harte lay on the ground.

Before I could reach him however the bald man grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me back. The teacher who had struck Harte, a short stocky woman with orange hair noticed the distress it caused me and she began to hit him.

Harte’s cries battered aside my worries like they were made of rice paper and permeated deep into my bones. The wave of anguish flooding my being paled when compared to the pillar of rage that built within it.

My thoughts dimmed in the shadow of this great anger and all happiness fled my body. For a single terrible moment, my personality was pushed beyond my body and I became rage incarnate.

Without conscious thought, I gritted my teeth in a snarl and placed a hand on my chest.

With a flurry of effort, I cast with my other hand. A spark shot forth several meters before dissipating.

I could hear Mistress Kalo calling something but I ignored her.

I watched the fiery image and thought of the furnaces, thought of our burnt childhood home and thought of my parents.

Casting my hand out again the spark once more shot forth before dying out.

My anger didn't allow such a thing to rob me of my assuredness. I continued to hold my hand out and from my chest, I pulled with an intensity I couldn't summon until now. The energy crept from my body through my hand and across into my outstretched fingers.

This life force flowed from my body in a terrible stream of fire and hate. The column of death shot across the grass field illuminating everything in a horrible orange light. It collided with the spiked stone wall that separated the children from the adults.

I’d never seen magic such as this. Not even my parents had ever released a spell so powerful. The spell was so powerful I felt a certain connection to it. Like a life I had poured into existence and to cease the flow of energy would be killing my own child. Everything else paled in importance.

The column of fire spread either side as it collided with the magical protection.

It would not deny me.

Allowing my voice to drop into a scream I flung every ounce of energy I could muster at my spell. I watched as the column of fire pierced the arcane defences of the wall. In a shower of bricks and mortar, the wall itself collapsed under my attack.

I knew I no longer needed the spell yet a part of me wanted to pour everything I had into it. It mattered not that death would take me, so long as I spent myself upon keeping that fire alive.

Beside me, I could feel Harte tugging at me and speaking wordlessly in the hurricane of sound that the twisting air and rippling fire belched forth.

I released the flow of energy and a moment later the torrent of fire ceased. A tear crawled down my face as the world became a more desolate place.

I dropped to my knees.

“What have you done?” asked Harte staring at me with concern.

Thayer stood, her mouth almost as wide as her eyes as she stared at the metres wide hole in the wall.

Donas pulled me to my feet. He lifted his club ready to strike me in the face. Before he could, white light shot through the cloud of rubble and smote him in the chest.

The teachers turned to face this new threat. Emerging through the breach in the wall came one tortured soul after another. They wore simple clothes hanging loosely upon starved and tortured bodies. Their faces were gaunt but their eyes were wild. The parents were here, and they wanted revenge.

Upon seeing their enraged faces mistress Kalo called for the teachers to return to the castle as bolts of white light assailed them.

I allowed myself to fall to the soft grass.

Sleep threatened to engulf me and I wondered if I were dying.

Harte shook my arm saying, “Wake up Leola,” tears gripped his eyelashes.

I felt him place my hand upon him as he begged, “Please take it from me.”

Take what from him?

Such emotion coloured his voice. I thought of how sad it’d be for Harte to be alone in the world.

With an effort, I frowned and struggled to think of what he meant.

Energy, I realised.

With my hand upon him, I drew a small trickle of energy. I felt my heart beat with renewed vigour. The air within my lungs tasted fresh. My eyes absorbed the features they gaze upon rather than staring into the void.

I stared up into the sky as I heard Thayer say besides me, “I guess that means you graduated.”

The tears snuck from the corner of his eyes as Harte laughed. To my surprise, I laughed too.