Enneagon
Chapter 7: Under the Moonbeams
Hello everyone! I have no idea how many of you actually even got to see the last chapter before FFN decided to fuck me over 12 ways to Sunday. Thank you hollyfrost666 for your review, and also for reassuring me that the last chapter didn't get sucked into the internet void entirely :D
[Hexagon Academy, Briox]
[9.9.2065]
As Bumblestripe entered the Hexagon gym at 6 in the morning, the first thing that came to mind was that this sucked. The sun outside had yet to make its appearance, leaving the clouds outside pitch black and desolate. The gym itself was deserted. The soccer goals had long since been pushed back into their storage room, along with every bit of equipment. The net curtains intended to shield the audience from any runaway balls hung in a thick, black mass at the end of the gym, swaying eerily in the faint breeze of the air conditioner. The last remnants of moonlight cast silvery shadows across the turf.
For lack of a better word, the gym that Bumblestripe happily spent hours of his afternoons in suddenly looked creepy and unfriendly.
With a sigh, Bumblestripe set his bag down on the floor and eyed the empty, moonlit gym warily. Then he positioned himself on the track and teetered off into a slow, uneven jog.
The discomfort seemed to punch him in the throat after just the first step. The first teetering lap made his throat burn horribly and brought painful stitches to his sides. The second lap left his knees trembling. Bumblestripe sat down like that, with his legs quivering with exertion after just two laps, his face buried in his water bottle. And to top it all off, it was six in the fucking morning on a Wednesday.
"Hey man, are you good?", came a voice from the doorway, and Bumblestripe distantly heard the pounding of footsteps as someone came jogging briskly onto the track. "Hey! Say something dude, let me know you're okay!"
Bumblestripe blearily looked up at Tigerheart. The other boy was carrying a sports backpack and was dressed in his track uniform, and had undoubtedly intended to get a little practice in. Now, his face was pinched with concern. "Bumblestripe? Are you okay? You look awful."
"Fine", Bumblestripe croaked. "Just...glugh...out of shape…."
In that moment, Bumblestripe felt his stomach give a horrifying seize and clapped a hand swiftly to his mouth. Tigerheart backed up in alarm. "Holy shit, you are not okay. Here-," he handed Bumblestripe a nearby wastepaper basket, "puke into that if you need to. Do you need the hospital wing?"
"Are you kidding?", Bumblestripe grumbled over the rim of the trash can. "That would be pathetic. Also Ashfur would kill me."
Tigerheart wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Ashfur? What does he have to do with anything?"
"He talked to your track coach, Cloudtail. They arranged for me to have the track to myself in the mornings so I can get in shape for soccer."
"They wanted you to train? By yourself?"
A nod.
"That's wack. I'll train with you. This isn't the kind of thing you should be doing on your own anyway. Now get up! I'm taking you to Spottedleaf, whether you think it's pathetic or not!"
...
[Hexagon Academy, Briox]
[9.9.2065]
Silverhawk paced back and forth in front of the board with his hands folded neatly in front of him, his pale blond hair gleaming almost white under the lights. Even as Cinderheart shrank back in her chair to avoid the piercing ice of his gaze, she gave Hollyleaf beside her a cheeky sidelong glance. Hollyleaf, staring right back, made an exaggerated fanning motion with her hands. She then proceeded to whisper "goddamn!" at her best friend, then ducked her head in a fit of laughter.
Jayfeather behind them slapped his hand to his face. "Really?", he hissed. "Hollyleaf? You too?"
"Leave me alone Jay, if you know what this teacher looked like you'd get it, too", Hollyleaf cracked back. Cinderheart, eyes streaming with the effort of suppressing her laughter, yanked the collar of her sweatshirt over her face. "Oh my Stars Hollyleaf, not so loud!"
Jayfeather, with his scarred over eyes rolling in exasperation, turned to Lionblaze. "They can't be serious, right?
"No, I'd say they have a point."
Jayfeather's jaw dropped. "You-"
"Class!"
The drop in volume was immediate, and even the two girls fell silent that very instant to meet Silverhawk's gaze. The teacher stood, smiling pleasantly, before the board with his hands crossed primly behind his back. He had a young, angular face with a defined jawline. His hair, so blond it bordered on white, was styled neatly into a clean side part.
But what stood out most were the eyes. Blue shot with streaks of emerald green, they flitted from face to upturned face with wily agility. Hollyleaf stopped swooning over the new art teacher just long enough to recognize the cool, self-assured cleverness in the handsome face. She wasn't sure if she was the only one who had seen it, the flash of cunning that seemed to run across Silverhawk's smile. Cinderheart next to her certainly hadn't, judging by the dopey grin on her face.
But Jayfeather had. Her blind brother, who despite his inability to see had always been better at picking up small details than anyone else she'd ever known. Jayfeather was suddenly sitting ramrod straight, and Hollyleaf, being his sister, had no trouble in picking up on the defensive tension in his shoulders.
This didn't escape the attention of Briarlight, who had been sitting next to Jayfeather. "Jay?", she muttered quietly, shifting her prosthetic as she leaned in to tap his shoulder. "You good?"
"Fine", Jayfeather muttered through clenched teeth. "That guy just kinda weirds me out."
Just as Briarlight opened her mouth to respond, Silverhawk spoke. His voice matched his appearance, deep-timbred and regal. Half the girls in the room immediately seemed starstruck, and Hollyleaf would have been lying had she said that she hadn't been one of them.
"Good morning class, my name is Silverhawk", he said pleasantly, tactfully ignoring the hopeful way the majority of the class was goggling at him. "Following Tallpoppy's retirement, I took on the role as your new art teacher. This here," he gestured to another, much uglier man next to him, "is going to be my teaching assistant Rushtooth." There were no moon-eyes this time, and Hollyleaf couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the man next to Silverhawk. With his scruffy brown hair, badly shaved beard, and heavy acne, Rushtooth looked like the caterpillar next to the butterfly.
"Since this is one of our first days back, we will begin class by doing some simple warm-up sketches and then we will progress into still-life practice. Any questions?"
The class was entirely too starstruck to speak.
Rushtooth, looking resigned, began sullenly passing out sheets of thick drawing paper to the class. Across the room, one of the Shadow girls visibly recoiled when Rushtooth handed her a sheet of paper. The feeling of pity in Hollyleaf's stomach twisted itself a little tighter.
…
Jayfeather wouldn't have been able to explain it even if had wanted to. Something about Silverhawk just unnerved him, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out what. Rushtooth made his slow, lazy round of the room, handing out pieces of paper to each student. Jayfeather physically felt his skin prickle in discomfort as Rushtooth brushed by, leaving a neat stack of paper on their table as he walked.
From the other side of their table, he heard his friends each pick up their pencils to follow the teacher's instructions. When Silverhawk spoke again, the deep pitch of his voice made something sharp and ice cold settle itself firmly into his chest. For the life of him, he couldn't put a finger on what it was-
Jayfeather wasn't doing the work. He drummed the pencil absentmindedly on the laminated table top, lost deep in thought. Something about Silverhawk felt familiar and Jayfeather would he damned if he couldn't place his finger on what. He was so out of it that he didn't notice the way the rest of his friends went suddenly silent until it was far, far too late.
There was the scrape of a chair as someone sat down at the table, and suddenly Jayfeather could detect what smelled like Dior cologne. The same deep, regal voice: "Is anyone having any trouble here, guys?"
Oh.
Oh no.
Silverhawk had taken a seat, his blue-green eyes sweeping coolly over the table the same way a falcon scans the underbrush for prey. Jayfeather had never felt more like a bunny rabbit in his life.
When the rest of the table eagerly shown him their artwork, Silverhawk stood up as if to go. Jayfeather's hands clenched together under the table, so tight that his knuckles ached, and willed him to go away. But things could never be that simple. Just when the chair had been pushed in and Jayfeather expected Silverhawk's footsteps to carry him away, he heard the scuff of the teacher's feet by his chair.
"Jayfeather, do you need any help? I saw that you haven't been doing your work", Silverhawk asked. Jayfeather couldn't help but be reminded of a snake, long-tongued and rearing unexpectedly from the grass.
"No, I don't need help", Jayfeather bit out abruptly, shoving the empty sheet of paper away from him and looking up. "My hand's just tired. That's all."
Silverhawk's eyes seemed to freeze over even further, his mouth stretching into a slow, cold smile. "Really? What from? I haven't seen you draw a single thing so far."
"He hurt his hand playing team handball in gym class!", Briarlight suddenly broke in, her voice so loud that it bounced off the walls and made about half the room turn and stare.
Jayfeather had not, of course, actually done any such thing. But that didn't matter. Grateful for the excuse, he grabbed gingerly at his wrist and made a face. "Yeah, it hurts like hell."
Silverhawk settled a cool look onto Briarlight, then turned his back, walking swiftly away to the other end of the room. The second Silverhawk was out of earshot, Briarlight grabbed his wrist.
"Okay, what the hell is going on?"
End Chapter 7
*evil hand rubbing* Oh boy, I have plans, just y'all wait hehe
Azra out!