Shadowed Heart--Part 4

see disclaimer in Part 1

"Wake up..."

I groaned. "Leave me alone!"

The voice got more insistent. "Wake up or you're gonna miss breakfast!" This time it was accompanied by a rough shake that jarred the bruise on my side against the back of the sofa. I yelped, winced, and opened one eye. Ritz, looking strict, was standing over me with her arms crossed.

"Go away," I said more clearly. "I don't care about breakfast. I wanna sleep."

"Too bad," Ritz said dryly, hauling me off the sofa to land on the floor. On my bad side. Again. I glared at her and wondered why the heck she was waking me up at the crack of dawn. "We've got school and you have to come too."

Again with the 'school'. She and the others had mentioned it yesterday but never explained it. Apparently, though, it was some kind of place that none of them really liked.

"How come...?" I asked suspiciously. Ritz sighed and ran a hand through her hair, and most of my anger evaporated.

"It's not like you should come, but all kids under the age of 18 have to go. At least you'll be with the rest of us. Now come on, we're gonna be late." More gently, she pulled me downstairs, where the others were waiting.

Marche, Doned, and Mewt were all bent over breakfast, looking grim, as we came down. Marche and Doned's mom was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Ms. Radiuju...?" Ritz asked warily, as though she'd read my mind.

"Still asleep," Marche replied, sounding deadly weary. "She was up late over Dad again." He didn't meet anyone's eyes when he said "Dad". I remembered what he'd said about being fatherless, and pitied him a little. Doned was still completely oblivious. Ritz, leaving me in the hall, went over to Marche's side and gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

Most of breakfast passed in a depressing silence. For no specific reason, I remembered that all of them had gotten what they wished for when they went to Ivalice. Doned had been able to walk without crutches. Ritz's hair, naturally white, had been the hot pink she'd previously dyed it every day. Mewt had had his family. Marche had gotten friends and the strength to stand up for himself. Now that they were here, they had willingly sacrificed all that.

What had I given up? My power, my invincibility, my influence. I guess... Remedi, too. Although for me it wasn't a conscious choice, was it? But here, I still had Mewt. And the others still had each other too.

"Time to go..." Marche said finally, standing up. "See you later, Doned."

"Bye," Doned replied forlornly. We left, heading down the snow-sprinkled roads to a large, flat-looking building.

I couldn't help but stare. The building was overflowing with young humans, all of relatively the same age as us. Adults were also milling around, although there weren't as many of them as there were kids. Marche led us down a corridor towards one room in specific, where about seventeen kids roughly his age were seated at small tables, chattering to each other. Ritz immediately left to sit with a pair of blonde girls, but Marche and Mewt took me to the only adult in the room.

"Mr. Leslaie?" Marche asked hesitantly. "Mewt's cousin just came in from out of town, and we were sort of wondering if he could join this class."

The man, who looked like he was in his late twenties, nodded. "Sure thing, Marche. We've got room for one more. Introduce him."

Recognizing my cue, I stepped forward. "My name is Llednar Randell. Thanks for the help."

The man named Mr. Leslaie smiled. "Pleasure to meet you. Take a seat with your friends." With that, Marche and Mewt hauled me off to a table near the back, and we sat down together.

"A word of advice..." Marche told me in a low tone. "See those kids over there?" He pointed at a table off in a corner with three lanky boys sitting at it, laughing at some comment one of them had made. "That lot's really nasty, so don't do anything to piss them off unless you want to get totally soaked today. We're having another snowball fight." Mewt sighed and looked at the floor.

I glared at them. "I remember now. Mewt told me about those three once. Lyle, Colin, and Guinness, right?"

Marche nodded slightly. "They're bullies, so they love to pick on the littler kids. Mewt's their biggest target, but they've been after me and Ritz too. I'm afraid that they'll probably start trying to make you mad today. No offense, but you really stick out in this class." He shrugged helplessly. "It's your eyes."

"What is it about my eyes that makes everyone think they're unnerving?" I complained softly.

That made Mewt smile a little. "Nobody really has eyes like yours, no matter what world we're in. They're unique, but they're kind of intense, so they make people skittish. And a skittish bully is an irritable one."

I didn't know whether or not to take that as a compliment. "I don't really get it, but..." I just shrugged. "If they try to pick on me, they're going to regret it. I'm not afraid."

Marche sighed. "That's what worries me."

---

By the end of the day, I knew just why Mewt and the others loathed school with such a passion. It was boring. Drop dead, bone deep, agonizingly boring. Mewt had to poke me at least twenty times with the end of a pencil to make me stay awake--after the twentieth time, I lost count. It had to've been more than that.

Arithmetic and algebra, Japanese and French, the mechanics of writing, literature, history and geography, ho hum. I could've gotten through the classes (most of them, at least) in my sleep. It came as a surprise how I knew, or remembered, so much of these things. Math was easy, all the language classes too. History and geography I wasn't so sure about--this world was very, very different from Ivalice--but I caught on quickly. The whole day went by in a slow dream of disbelief. How could this all be so easy? When was the real challenge going to come?

Last period, physical education, was the only promise for something interesting. Then, as Marche had said, we were going to have a snowball fight.

He, Ritz, and Mewt explained it to me on the way outside. "See, it's like an engagement, only not. The only weapon you can use is a ball of snow. Once one team gets enough points, they'll win. They're supposed to be for fun, but... well..."

"Let me guess, those idiots always mess things up," I growled, pointing at the trio of bullies. Marche sighed and nodded. Many of the other kids were going off into separate parts of the yard and starting their own snowball fights--only the nine of us (the jerks, Ritz and her friends, Marche, Mewt, and me) were left.

"OK, divide yourselves up into teams," the teacher, Mr. Leslaie, instructed. He went off to the side and took a whistle out of his pocket, deeming to watch.

Lyle, Colin, and Guinness instantly cliqued up. "I'm not going on your wussy team again," Lyle shot at us, making sure that we could hear. One of Ritz's friends also decided to join them.

"Really," Ritz said, rolling her eyes and doing a fair imitation of the bully while she was facing the rest of us. "I'm not going on your wussy team--" Marche and Mewt both struggled against the impulse to laugh.

"You say something, whitey-locks?" Colin asked menacingly. Instantly, the air stilled. Ritz whipped around, her long hair whirling behind her. Its pale sheen was very, very obvious.

"That won't work anymore, moron," Ritz snarled. "I'm proud of having white hair."

"Sure has changed since last time," Guinness crooned in a falsetto voice. "Little prissy grandma, little prissy grandma--"

"Guinness," Mr. Leslaie called warningly from the snowbank off to the side. I smirked. Just like any judge of Ivalice, even though he made sure he was out of the lines of fire, he was always watching. "Do you want another detention?" The bully mumbled something and slunk off with his friends.

"We've got five people," Marche said uncomfortably. "One of us will have to sit out..."

Ritz's quiet friend raised one hand to volunteer. "I'll go."

"Okay, Lune, we'll call you in at halftime," Marche replied, and the girl went off by the teacher to wait. Mewt sighed--he'd wanted to skip out, it seemed.

"So, new kid," Colin yelled to us conversationally. "You taking a gamble on that freak?" I glared. He obviously meant me. A vein began to stand out in my fist as I contemplated just exactly how I was going to stampede him into the ground later.

"It's no gamble," I heard Marche reply. "Just a warning for you now... don't make Llednar mad."

"Alright, everyone, are you ready?" Mr. Leslaie called. Without waiting for a reply, he tweeted on his whistle. "Begin!"

The bullies instantly dashed forward, flinging snow at us, with Ritz's friend Katarina tagging along. Marche and Ritz, glaring, returned the barrage, with Mewt just trying to get out of the way of the attack. I hung back to watch for a while until I got the way that things were going, and added a few missiles of my own.

"Just what kind of idiot freak is that guy?" I heard Lyle yell after I'd thumped him squarely in the back with a snowball. "I can't believe he's actually related to Mewt anyway!"

"Who even says he is?" Guinness muttered. "He's prolly just some street kid foundling that his dad took in. God knows what that drunkard ever thinks these days."

Something popped inside my head--I think it may have been my self-control. "You shut up!" The offending nerdball was treated to a snowball in the mouth. Marche and Ritz leaned on each other, laughing. From the sidelines, Lune cheered. Furious, Lyle and Colin each tried to throw one back at me. The first hit a brick wall several feet away from me, and the other clipped my cheek. Their aim was horrible. I could've dodged those even if they'd been heading straight for me, which they hadn't.

Guinness spat out snow. "Ah, forget him. It's Mewt the Newt we need to go after."

"Excuse me!" The 'newt' landed a glop of snow on the bully's shoulder. Lune cheered again. Marche and Ritz both fell down laughing. I smirked again.

"Well thrown. He deserved it." I couldn't help but throw in a remark of praise along with a peace sign. Mewt smiled a little, flushed by his luck.

"I think our little scapegoat's forgotten his manners." Colin's cold, dangerous comment ended the mirth and a deadly silence settled over the schoolyard. He, Lyle, and Guinness all launched a barrage at Mewt, who was standing against the fence and had no option for escape. He shielded his face with his arms against the assault, helpless.

Both Marche and Ritz drew in a deep breath, about to start protesting, but I knew that that wouldn't cut it. Reason went out the window. I barely felt anything other than complete outrage. How DARE they!

Midway across the schoolyard, I wondered who had control of my body. I planted myself firmly in front of Mewt and knocked aside all three incoming snowballs with the ease of swatting overstuffed flies. How dare anyone even try to hurt Mewt while I was around!

"Wha--how in the world--!" Lyle yelped, a look of stupefied shock on his face. I wanted to rip his damned face off. How could he so much as try--!

Out of nowhere, Marche and Ritz grabbed my shoulders and upper arms, restraining me. I didn't care. I was going to take those three bastards apart for trying to hurt Mewt. I struggled to move forward, but my so-called friends' hold was firm. I couldn't take a single step.

"Wh-wh-what is he!" Colin stammered. The fear in his eyes was beautiful. I wanted to see more of it. "H-how could... how could anyone make that distance...?"

"Llednar--stop it!" Ritz said in between sharp breaths. She was red-faced and panting from the effort of holding me back. "You're just going to hurt yourself!"

"I don't give half a damn," I growled, almost yanking myself out of her grip. "I--am--going--to--kill--those--idiots!"

"Listen to me," Marche said sharply. "You're losing control of yourself! You know what happens when you lose control! You have to stop it! For Mewt's sake, stop it!"

Did I know? Yes. Yes. I knew all too well what would happen if I lost it again. Madness. I had barely been able to regain control while fighting Marche at the palace--I'd barely been able to think in my protective rage. Slowly, I deepened my breathing, making a conscious effort to calm the deep ferocity just waiting to rip out of my barely maintained hold. It took a while, but the tension in my body eased, and I stood still, sweat dripping from my face. I sighed. "You can let go now. I don't think I'm homicidal anymore." Warily, Marche and Ritz released me, and I turned to Mewt, who was still cowering against the fence behind me. "Are you okay?"

Shakily, he nodded, his eyes wide. His hair was dripping from the snow melting in it, and there were a few scratches on his face and hands where a snowball with too much ice had hit him. "I-I am... I think..." I sighed, relieved and exhausted. Suddenly, Mewt let out a yelp. "Look out!"

I turned, but not quickly enough. Something cracked the side of my head far too hard. There was a sharp shock of black that dulled my vision, and I knew no more.

---

I felt a dull pressure at my wrist and heard a soft, periodic beep. With a little whimper, I opened my eyes to a blinding whiteness, squeezed them shut, then cracked them open again, just a slit. My head ached, and a dull sense of confusion throbbed in the back of my mind. The last thing I could remember clearly was being hit hard in the side of the head with something.

I sat up gingerly, paused and waited for the room to stop spinning and my head to stop pounding, and looked around. I had been lying in a metal-framed bed with soft white sheets and covers, in a room that was also stunningly white. Outside, through a glass panel window, I could see a middle-aged man with dark, spiky hair speaking to a few men and women in white coats. The pressure at my wrist was from a smooth cord sticking out of it, bandaged firmly in. It trailed off to a pouch of dark blood held on a stand, which slowly, drop by drop, flowed into the opened vein in my wrist. A larger machine was over by a wall, and it had been making the soft beeping noise I'd heard earlier. Over in a pair of chairs by the door, Mewt and Ritz were sitting together, looking exhausted and sad.

"Where--" I began, and they both looked up, shocked expressions on their faces. They both ran over to me, crying out gladly.

"Llednar! You're alright!" Ritz clasped my hand, looking almost as if she would cry out of relief. "You've been asleep for three days!"

I blinked. "Three days? Huh? What happened?" This was confusing.

"See... Colin threw another snowball at you when you had your back to him. He'd put a big, sharp rock in it," Mewt began. "When I told you to look out, you started to turn around, and it hit you hard in the side of the head." He looked at the floor. "We all heard the crack, and you just--collapsed. You were bleeding really, really bad. Everyone was just so worried about you..." Mewt whimpered a little and threw his arms around me, refusing to speak further. I laid one hand across his back to steady him and turned to Ritz, waiting for her to continue.

"You were hurt bad enough that we had to take you here to the hospital," Ritz said quietly. I quirked one eyebrow and gave her a questioning look. "Hospitals are like--places where sick and hurt people are taken to get fixed. But anyway, you were out for such a long time. It took the doctors a while to fix the shattered part of your skull--since they don't have magic here, they have to do things by hand. It's been a while since they finished, though, and we were starting to worry that you weren't going to wake up at all." She paused, looked at me, and smiled a little. "Pull back your hair there," she instructed, indicating my left temple, where I'd gotten hit. I did. "I thought so. The cut that's still here... when the stitches are taken out, you'll have a scar shaped like an omega right here."

I smiled a little, but that remark had caused a wave of homesickness to wash over me. "Omega" had been the name of my favorite attack, and it was what I was known for back there. I just wanted to go back to Ivalice. "Where's Marche?"

Ritz looked away sadly. "He was here for a while, too... but then he got word from the doctors. His mother brought Doned in the other day. He's really, really sick. They said... they said they're not sure if he'll make it this time."

There was a long silence. My hold on Mewt grew a little tighter. I didn't want to believe that a kid as likable as Doned was really in such grave danger. "Marche must be worried sick."

"He is." Ritz shook her head. "Doned's always been sickly. Marche explained it to us a while ago... he was born with a syndrome that keeps him weak. I couldn't believe it... he'd gotten so close to walking on his own, this time..."

"You're okay, though," Mewt said thickly, still talking into my shoulder. "That should help a little, shouldn't it?"

"Maybe." I sighed, brooding a little. "I wish I could help, but I can barely move my head without getting dizzy. I'm no use like this."

The door opened with a click, and we all turned around. It was Marche, dressed in the same school uniform from three days ago. "Guys, he's just getting worse," he said softly, his eyes on the floor. "I'm really starting to worry that maybe..." He looked up suddenly, and his deep sapphire eyes gained a spark of surprise. "Llednar! You're awake!"

"Yeah..." I nodded. "I heard about Doned." A soft prickle started at the corner of my eyes, but I forced it back. I was not going to cry. "That's really rough. I'm sorry."

Marche nodded, looking as though he was biting his lip. There was a short, slightly uncomfortable pause, and then he ran to the three of us, throwing his arms around me and Ritz. "I... I just..." There was a soft spot of wetness on my shoulder--was Marche crying...? "Doned was doing so much better... it was the first time he'd ever been able to use crutches without help, but... but now..." Ritz and Mewt had both embraced their friend, steadying him and stopping his shaking. "I just feel so helpless!" With that, Marche broke down, sobbing. I laid a hand on his back sympathetically--his misery wove a deep, shattering harmony with my own.

"If only we could get Doned back to Ivalice..." I whispered, but no one heard.