The nightmares were coming back again. It's been nearly a year (timing of accident? A:16 G:17?) since I won my freedom, more than 2 since I was taken after the attack on the village. The nightmares seem more like flashbacks sometimes—they tortured me, mercilessly. It's like I'm just reliving the worst time of my existence on repeat without relief. Other times they're different, but it's always the same one. It always starts in the middle of a massacre. I'm in some kind of dark, scientific building. There's people running. They're running from me, and I'm chasing them. I look down and my hands are covered in blood. I can't control my own actions. Magic wells up inside of me; dark, powerful magic. I mutter some incomprehensible words, and the magic flows out through my hands. So many people are dying. There's bodies everywhere. As I step over the bodies and towards the exit, I cross a large, very reflective window on the wall next to me. I turn to face the face it, to look at my own reflection, but the face looking back at me isn't my own. Her hair is as black as the night, and her eyes are as red as the blood that stains her face. I reach up to touch the glass, but then I look past the reflection of the girl with the black hair to see me, the real me, on the other side of the glass. The real me is trapped behind the glass in a concrete room with no exit. But I can't control my own body. I'm still stuck in that other girl's body, watching myself on the other side of the window. I'm banging on the glass, screaming, crying. I can't get out. I reach my hand up to the glass once more, and the body I'm in, the girl with the black hair, she reaches her hand up too. Our hands touch, and suddenly I'm back in my own body, still trapped behind the glass window. And now I'm watching the girl with the black hair as she smiles at me and walks out, leaving me there to rot. And then the dream ends. I wake up in a cold sweat. This nightmare, it feels like the others, like a memory, but no matter how hard I try I can't remember it. I only know what happens in the dream. I don't know how the massacre starts, only how it ends. And her face, it's burned into my memory. She's not familiar to me. I've never met anyone who looks like her. She's menacing, intimidating, and ominous, yet beautiful and enigmatic.
Although the nightmares were unbearable at times, and very mentally damaging, every once in a while for the past few months I would have a dream that made me feel safe. And it felt so real. It was never exactly the same like the nightmares were, but they were all still very similar to one another. For one thing, they always started with a blinding white light, and then a woman would appear. It was the same woman every time. She was fair skinned, and had long, silky silver hair just like mine. Though her's was straight, where mine held big curls. She had olive colored eyes, and red markings on her arm and face. She wore two feathers in her hair, and she was very kind and gentle. She would comfort me, telling me I was safe here, and that everything was going to be alright. Our surroundings were white, and occasionally splattered in pastel colors. It felt like everything was made of cotton, from the ground, clouds, and the single tree that she stood under every time I entered the dream. And then everything would change. Our environment would shift to different scenery. It felt as if I was reliving someone else's memories, or watching a movie from the inside. Most of the time they were happy scenes. She was in some of them, but in nearly all of them appeared the same man. Sometimes he was a little boy, sometimes a teenager, but the last time I saw him he was as young man. She would show me quick flashes, images of him, and each time she would say one thing: Find him, save him. And then she would grab my face with both hands, each time placing her thumbs on my temples, and kiss my forehead. And then the dream would end. I've never seen this man before, not outside of my dreams at least. He was tall and lean. He had black hair that grazed his eyes and the hair that past his shoulders was tied back. His eyes were dark, but his smile was warm. I could feel a sadness radiating from him. I didn't know if the man or the woman existed, but these dreams felt so real. Maybe it was a sign. I'm not sure from who or why anyone would choose me, let alone what I was supposed to do, but for now they were just dreams to get me by. And I never forgot them, not one little detail, because I would get a new dream at least twice a week, when they weren't nightmares. Their images were fixed into my brain; the woman and that man, the one with the warm smile and the sad eyes.
Ever since I escaped I've been trying to keep a low profile and rebuild my life. I never did see Ray again. I'm not sure if he even survived the attack on the village. As much as I hated to admit it, I still wondered what happened to him every once in a while. What kind of life was he living? What would I do if I ever saw him again? What would he do if he saw me? I'd like to say that I would act as if he wasn't there, since he's dead to me now, but I'm not sure if I'd be able to hold back from completely tearing him to shreds for what he did to me. The only reason I was allowed to get taken was because he left me there to die, alone. And I hate him for that. I still don't really know how I managed to escape. It's all a blur, like I blocked that part of my memory out. But I don't ask questions, I just count my blessings and move on with my life, hoping that my captors will never find me again. For the most part, I've just been working as a librarian. In my spare time I read books on defensive magic and healing magic. Since those seem to be the only types of magic I can produce with any success, I might as well read up and get as good as I can. I want to be able to protect myself and others from the evils in this world, like the dark mages who tortured me. I've no interest in revenge, but I want to make sure that I can protect myself if they come knocking at my door one day. I was a subject of their inhumane experiments, so if they ever decide to reignite that horrendous project of theirs, they might seek me out to finish the job. But anyhow, the library has local postings up on the bulletin board by the entrance. Local businesses post job listings and event flyers there, hoping to catch the interest of whoever might be passing by. As I was leaving one night after my shift, I noticed that Alzano Imperial Magic Academy was looking for an adjunct/assistant professor for defensive magic. It caught my interest, as defensive magic is right up my alley, but I wasn't sure if I'd even be qualified enough. Regardless of the fact the position is of an assistant professor and is only temporary, the Alzano Imperial Magic Academy holds themselves to an exceptionally high standard. I've heard that even Celica Arfonia teaches there. I would kill to have 5 minutes to talk to her. She's someone I admire when it comes to magic. She uses the destructive forces of magic for good when she could just as easily use them for evil. I kept the thought of applying in the back of my mind and made my way home. For the next couple weeks I would glance at that flyer as I left the library after each shift, each time cementing the idea of teaching at the school deeper into my brain. My last shift at the library was the night I saw a couple of kids, two boys, attack an old man in an alley near the coffee shop I frequent. I was just passing by, when I heard the pleas of an old man, begging for his life. The boys couldn't be more than 14-15 years old, and they were loving every minute of scaring this old man to death. They already had his money, but now they just wanted to toy with him. They used magic on a defenseless old man, knowing he couldn't protect himself, just because they could.
"Hey!" I yelled to them. "That's enough."
They looked up, at each other, and then started to walk toward me. "Oh yeah? Who's going to stop us? You, sweetheart?" They laughed at each other, and charged their spells. They uttered their incantations and aimed their hands directly at me, but before they could finish their sentences, I charged them. I came between the two and up under their arms. I grabbed each of their wrists with my hands and aimed them towards the sky right as their spells were cast.
"I said, that's enough. Or would you like to try that again?" I was hoping to intimidate them, but they just pressed on.
They recited their spells one more time, just like before, but this time I was much closer. I raised the ball of my fist to one of the boy's chin. He was knocked out, and his friend took a few steps back and went in for a kick. I stepped to the side and grabbed his right leg as it came towards me. I spun him around by his leg, and at the same time, removed the ribbon that held up my hair. I then grabbed his right hand as he spun and tied his wrist to his ankle. I then pushed him slightly, causing him to lose balance and hop a few times before falling to the ground. I immediately went to help the old man to his feet, but his face turned sour as he pointed towards the boys. The one that I had knocked out was untying his friend and helping him to his feet, but to my surprise, they just fled. The old man thanked me graciously, and I made sure he made it home safely. It was that night that I decided to go through with applying for the teaching position. Not only because I feel that these kids need to know how to protect themselves, but also because it's apparent that they're not being taught about magic properly. They just see magic as a weapon they can abuse to get what they want. And although magic is destructive, it's much more than that. But when left in the wrong hands, it can wreak unfathomable havoc. These kids needed to see that magic was not just a power they could abuse, and that attack spells don't guarantee you a victory. As soon as I got home that night I prepared my application. I knew that I didn't have a lot of experience teaching, but I did include all the defensive spells I knew how to use as well as my combat training and experience. I spent the entirety of the next day preparing for a possible interview and demonstration of my talent in defensive magic. I was fully prepared to show the higher ups at the Academy that I could take whatever they threw at me. I sent in my application, and although they weren't announcing their decision until the next week, I was anticipating their response. I received a letter in the mail 3 days later asking me to come in for a sort of pre-interview.
I anxiously awaited the day of my pre-interview to arrive, and now the day had come and my waiting was finally over. I was nervous, yet excited. And there was this other feeling. It's difficult to describe, but I felt like this was the place that I needed to be, like something was drawing me here. I put on the nicest outfit I had; a nice lavender button up blouse and a knee length, flowy black skirt with matching stockings and heels. I liked this outfit because it made my fair, silver hair stand out and the lavender blouse brought out the soft, purple hue of my eyes. As a matter of fact, the color of the blouse almost exactly matched the color of my eyes, though the blouse had a more dusty tone to it. I felt confident, yet intimidated. It was an odd feeling. I entered the grounds of the Academy and headed for the main office. I was greeted by a young man with glasses who told me to have a seat and that he would come and get me when they were ready for me. I waited impatiently, incessantly tapping my foot. I was beginning to annoy even myself. The young man with the glasses came back out and directed me into the room where the Academy officials waited for me. I hesitated briefly before entering, making sure my blouse was tucked in properly, fixing my hair and taking a deep breath before finally entering with my head held high. To my surprise, there were only 3 people sitting before me. Behind a desk was a rather plump older gentleman with a fair amount of grey facial hair. The second was a stern looking man with long blonde hair and glasses to mask his judgmental grimace. And lastly was Celica Arfonia herself. I knew she taught at the school, but I wondered what she had to do with my interview. Her presence here made me a little more uneasy, more nervous. I had to really impress them now.
"Please, have a seat," the older man behind the desk said to me as he motioned his hand to a chair across from him. I nodded and moved to sit. Celica was sitting propped on the desk to my right, and the other man, the blonde one, was standing arms crossed.
He grabbed my application from the desk, adjusted his glasses, and examined the sheet of paper. "Ms. Blake, is it?"
"Yes, that's correct. Andromeda Blake, sir." I answered.
"Alright let's get to the chase, Ms. Blake. It doesn't seem you have the qualifications we're looking for. You haven't taught elsewhere and you haven't got any licenses or certificates. I don't see a single reason why we should hire you for this position. Frankly, I didn't even want to call you in for an interview. I saw it as a waste of the Academy's time. But Ms. Arfonia refuses to leave any stone unturned."
"Oh come on, Halley. Give the girl a shot. I have a strange feeling about this one."
"Please refrain from addressing me by my first name in front of the interviewee, Ms. Arfonia. It's Mr. Astry." He paused momentarily before continuing, "And I'm sure the headmaster will agree that having one faculty member here with zero qualifications and unorthodox teaching methods is enough for this Academy. We certainly don't need another." There was an awkward silence before he realized that I was still in the room. Halley Astry cleared his throat, "Ahem. So tell me, why should we consider you."
"Well, for starters, I'm particularly skilled in defensive magic. I'm also trained in combat techniques," I looked up at Halley, and then at Celica. She nodded at me to go on. "But more importantly I know what these kids need." Celica perked up, listening intently now. "Yes, the incantations are important, but they need to know the history behind the magic and how it can be utilized to its full potential. That goes for offensive magic as well. They need to be taught that magic is not a weapon they can use and abuse to get what they want. It is not a tool used to gain power. And equally as important, they need to be taught not to rely on their magic. Just because they can use magic, doesn't guarantee them a victory. They need to know what to do in the case that their magic proves unsuccessful in subduing their enemy."
"How preposterous!" Mr. Astry exclaimed rather boisterously. "It has been shown throughout history that the strongest mages with the most powerful skills in magic are the ones who come out on top."
"There's no denying that magic gives one the upper hand, but it's not a surefire victory. Just because the magic is powerful doesn't mean it's being used correctly. Technique and skill needs to be taken into account." I argued.
"Let me get this straight, Ms. Blake." There was a brief pause as Halley Astry motioned closer to where I was sitting. He towered over me, "You're telling me that you want to teach these children that they can face up against a much more powerful mage and expect to come out on top? That sounds rather careless don't you think?"
"I think you've misunderstood me. I'm saying that I intend to teach these kids that just because their opponent may be more powerful, that they mustn't lose hope and back down. They can still win, and I can show them how."
"I'm highly suspicious of that claim, Ms. Blake."
"Well why not let her prove it, Halley?" Celica decided to speak up this time. "Unless you're afraid she's right. It would be pretty embarrassing if a low level mage with limited experience was to overpower a highly regarded magic professor such as yourself."
Halley groaned, his pride effectively challenged by Celica. "Alright, Ms. Arfonia. But here's the catch. If you win, and she gets the better of me, you can have full authority over who we hire for the position. But if I win, you will no longer have a say in the decision. Since your recommendation of Glenn turned out so well." He scoffed, but she seemed unaffected.
"You've got yourself a deal. That is, if it's alright with Andromeda." She looked at me now, and the two men followed her gaze. They were all staring at me now. "May I call you Andromeda?"
"Yes, of course. And I accept the challenge. I will face off against Mr. Astry."
"Excellent. I look forward to proving my point, and more importantly proving Celica wrong." He seemed particularly determined to make absolutely sure I wasn't hired. I was curious as to why. But anyhow, we headed out to the Academy commons to prepare for our duel.
When we were all set up and ready to go, Celica asked me a question, "Since you are the challenged mage, Andromeda, you decide the rules. So, what will they be?"
"Simple, the duel is over when one of us can no longer fight." The three of them looked surprised that I would put such high stakes over a small duel. "Don't worry, Mr. Astry. I will only be using defensive magic, no attack spells. You, on the other hand, are free to use offensive spells to your heart's content." I flashed him a confident grin, "And no holding back, either. I want you to give me everything you've got. Understand?"
"Oh most certainly. Though I'm sure you will regret saying that once the battle is over," Halley snapped back.
"I can handle myself, thank you very much."
"We'll see about that."
Celica raised her hand in the air, and as it came down before us, the duel began.