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A. F. Kay
A. F. Kay

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The Grey Warden - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Enough,” Professor Laken said. “Give Sister Vy your attention.”

Sister Vy turned back to the class as the students shuffled to the front of the room. She raised her arms, and her skin turned purple as she Manipulated her ink. Shockingly, she had more of the precious substance than Fant, something I didn’t think possible.

The ink drained out of sight as she pushed it somewhere else on her body demonstrating again her superb Manipulation skill. That, coupled with the previous massive display of ink, meant the purple kingdom had sent a very powerful ink weaver this time.

In seconds only a blotch of purple ink an inch long remained on her left wrist. The Purple Kingdom gave this amount of ink to everyone, for free, on their twelfth birthday. Well, almost everyone, I thought, as I stared at my empty wrists. I had spent my twelfth birthday crying, alone in my room, while everyone else went through the Ink Ceremony. That had been over three years ago, and it still hurt to think about.

I set my book down next to my sketch-pad and leaned forward to get a better view.

“Start with your base,” Sister Vy said, as she weaved the ink on her wrist into a star.

After a few seconds, each group held up their wrists, their kingdom’s base tattoo visible. Fant hadn’t hidden his ink. Instead, he had weaved the brown rectangles on his arms into squares. The fire weavers all had yellow triangles, and the water weavers displayed perfect blue circles. The poem on Mirrah’s wrist had become three green lines, but they weren’t straight like the rest of the air weavers. She moved them back and forth, like a breeze blowing through grass.

Sister Vy turned her left wrist. “Healing is about connecting and molding your weave to fit the patient. Air and water weavers will have an advantage as soft lines come naturally to them. You squares and triangles will find this harder.”

My link with Thelt exploded with light. I grabbed my head and pushed back on the connection to deaden the pain.

Thelt? Are you okay?

Warmth covered my body, like I sat in a hot bath. The connection vibrated as Thelt’s side throbbed in pain. The scent of blueberries assaulted me.

What happened? I asked and breathed again.

Cook swatted me. But I landed soft.

Where?

Pleasure thrummed across the link. In the blueberry sauce. It feels wonderful.

I shook my head and focused back on the class as the students broke into pairs.

Professor Laken strode past me and to the back wall. He fumbled with a large key ring and finally unlocked a tall cabinet. He removed a twelve inch brown box from the cabinet and carried it to a desk on the far right side of the room.

Three loud springs released one after another as Professor Laken opened the container. Sister Vy joined him and she studied the vials and bottles. After a few seconds, she removed a small bottle with a black liquid and handed it to Professor Laken.

Sister Vy strode back to the center of the room and rotated her wrist back and forth above her head. She had changed her purple star tattoo into what looked like vines of ivy. They twisted around each other like purple snakes.

“The key to this tattoo isn’t the vines but how close they are placed together,” Sister Vy said. “Those of you with high Manipulation will find this easier. It works best on yourself, but if you press the tattoo against someone else, you can cleanse them as well. As the poisoned blood flows past the vines, they will filter out the toxins. Practice the tattoo. When you feel ready, one of you will place a drop from the poison vial onto your wrist—”

Grumbles and muttering filled the room.

Professor Laken grabbed a matching vial from the poison box in front of him and marched over to me. He grabbed my left hand and tapped a drop onto my wrist. He turned to the class and lifted my arm. “See, nothing to worry about. It will only make you dizzy. Possibly upset your stomach. Nothing harmful.”

Everyone studied me, and when I didn’t drop over dead, they quieted down.

Sister Vy watched me for a few seconds and then turned back to the class. “If your partner needs help, press your tattoo against their skin to aid them.”

Professor Laken leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I’ll remove that drop after class. You can spend the rest of the period with an upset stomach for your outburst earlier.”

Fant’s arm shot into the air, but he didn’t wait to be called on. “Just a drop? I could handle a lot more.”

Professor Laken strode toward the students. “Your ink will make the filtering easier, Fant, but without practice, your weave could cause harm, possibly even death.”

“Some of us aren’t so close to death,” Fant whispered loudly, and his friends laughed.

Sister Vy cocked her head. “Death is but a breath away from us all. A single drop. Understood?”

Fant sneered but gave a short nod.

Sister Vy and Professor Laken moved into the crowd of students.

It sometimes felt like Professor Laken enjoyed hurting me. Not that anyone really liked Greys. We usually just made people uncomfortable. As if our inability to perform magic might brush off on others. The room spun, and my stomach cramped.

That hurt, Thelt said. What’s going on?

Professor Laken poisoned me.

I’ll make him pay.

I leaned over, started to pant, and my mouth filled with saliva. This shouldn’t be happening. It had only been a drop.

Don’t do anything, I said to Thelt with as much force as I could muster.

I wiped the drool off my mouth with a sleeve. My stomach cramped again, and I muffled a moan the best I could. I wasn’t sure I could wait until after class to get this fixed.

Hey, Ry?

Yes?

I might be stuck in this pot. My wings are sticky.

You should be here. We’re having a party.

Thelt perked up. I thought they were poisoning you. Do they have pie?

I ignored him, slid off the stool onto all fours, and placed my head against the stone floor.

Is there any pie left? Thelt asked again.

I gave Thelt a mental slap. There isn’t any pie!

Ow! Thelt said. What did I do?

Sorry. I’m not feeling right.

Tell me about it. I ate so many blueberries I didn’t think I could fly. And all this movement makes my stomach hurt.

So you made it out of the pot?

Yeah, I crawled out and rolled around on the bread until my wings worked. I’m headed for Laken’s room now. I’ll teach him a lesson.

Don’t!

I got your tail, brother.

I caught a glimpse of blue sky and the teacher’s quarters before Thelt dampened the connection and cut me off.

My stomach twisted, and I nearly puked. This had to get fixed. I raised my head to look for Professor Laken, but movement caught my attention. Fant and three other earth weavers had gathered around the box Professor Laken had pulled from the back cabinet.

Fant removed a bottle of white liquid from the poison box and took off the cap. He pretended to drink it and then stumbled around as if drunk. As he swung his arm wildly, he struck Mirrah’s back, and liquid flew from the bottle, covering her back and neck.

Mirrah reached back and wiped at the liquid. My stomach constricted so hard tears filled my eyes and dripped to the floor, mixing with the drool already there. Mirrah turned around and stared at Fant. She opened her mouth and then collapsed. I gasped and tried to move toward her, but my body wouldn’t move.

The students around Mirrah stepped back, confused. Fant put the lid back on the bottle, placed it in the box, and quickly walked to the other side of the room.

Sister Vy and Professor Laken knelt by Mirrah.

“Did you give her a drop?” Professor Laken asked Mirrah’s partner, who shook her head.

“Did anyone see what happened?” Sister Vy asked.

I opened my mouth and turned to look at Fant.

Fant stared at me, his gaze so intense I felt it like a punch. He held a finger to his lips.

“Did anyone see what happened?” Sister Vy asked again.

Fant slowly shook his head. As bad as my life was, it would become terrible if I crossed Fant. He had power and money and all the fear and control those things bought. Everything I didn’t have. He would punish me, and no one would care. No one worried about a useless grey eye.

Mirrah convulsed, and I made my decision. I really only had one. Wiping the tears and drool from my face, I pointed and gasped a single word.

“Fant.”


Comments

It is a very common trope as the inciting incident needs to happen early and bullies are good for that type of thing.

A. F. Kay

The bully revealed so soon kinda feels like slib

Samuel Strode


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