Fear. Everyone is afraid of something. Living at the College, I have learned that very well through the way that people look at me. Monster. Freak. Scary. They dislike me. I wish they didn't. I'm really not going to hurt them, but they are too afraid to listen to me. So, I've stopped talking in my defense. I used to defend myself when I was a bit smaller…but no one ever listened, only ran. The teachers aren't afraid of me though, but they do not love me either.

I wish someone did love me. I wish my parents had kept me so that I might know what it means to have love rather than pity. It's hopeless though. I bet they thought I was a monster and freak too. I probably scared them and that is why they sent me away. No one ever wants a deformed child like me.

I stared blankly at my face in the mirror as I brushed my wavy snow-white hair. My weed green eyes empty of feeling from ten years of being called a monster…ten years of pity rather than love. My hands worked to put my hair into two low, loose pigtails. As I styled it, I could see the reflection of my skin, white…except for strange purple splotches in random places that spread when I attempted to use too much magic. They crept further over my body like vines.

I continued to stare as I worked on my hair…eyes focused on the task of making my hair at least look nice before I heard a knock on my door. Weird. I never had visitors unless a teacher was checking on me. "Just one moment." I finished my task, stepping away from my small vanity mirror to put on my oversized deep green hoodie, pulling the hood up carefully in an attempt to cover-up the horns on my head.

Once I felt I looked less scary, I went to the door and answered it, staring absently up at the visitor. It was Mr. Stroud. He was one of the teachers who looked after me and cared for me…he was one of the ones who pitied me. He did not care for me out of love. As I stared at him, he smiled brightly down at me, taking a hand and gingerly resting it on my head. "Good morning, Briar. Yesterday you used quite a bit of magic didn't you. One of the other students in your class said that you got upset and nettles shot out from you. You gave us some scare. Do you remember?"

I didn't remember. I remember the words they said to me. Monster. Freak. Unwanted. I don't remember nettles though. I merely shook my head no. There was no point in lying to Mr. Stroud. He nodded his head and crossed his arms. "I see. Well…you did pass out afterwards. Your skin condition started to worsen, but we were able to call someone to help you. In fact, they wanted to meet you again this morning. Would that be all right with you?"

I blinked a moment. Someone other than the teachers wanted to see me? Weird. I nodded my head, being sure to make the motion slow as to not knock my hood off. Mr. Stroud smiled at me again and turned around as he walked back a bit. I could hear his voice and another person's. A man's voice, deep and cold. It didn't bother me. I merely watched with a dull expression as Mr. Stroud spoke and walked back.

As he returned to me, a man was next to him. The man was tall and had blonde hair that went off in strange directions. His eyes were hazel, and he seemed…empty. Fake. There was no real expression on his face. He seemed cold. Mr. Stroud awkwardly laughed as he gestured to the man. "This is Mr. Elias Ainsworth, Briar. He came to check on you yesterday when you cast that spell with the nettles."

Why would they call a random person to check on me? I turned to face Mr. Stroud, boring holes into him. "Why?" My voice was soft and dispassionate. Cold. Just like this man. I wonder if he could relate to me.

Mr. Stroud gave an awkward smile as he rubbed the back of his head. "Well…Mr. Ainsworth here is a Mage, a Mage skilled with thorns. We felt the best person to help you would be someone who had a similar skill. Don't you agree, Briar?"

I suppose that made sense. The blonde man, Mr. Ainsworth, was looking between Mr. Stroud and me as we spoke. Then he interjected, "May I speak with her alone Adolf?"

Mr. Stroud looked hesitant. What was wrong with me speaking with Mr. Ainsworth alone? He trusted him with my health. A sigh left him as he looked over his shoulder. "Quickly. I don't want Renfred to know you're here again."

Mr. Ainsworth waved his hand dismissively. Leaving Mr. Stroud with his answer before he nervously left the room and closed the door behind him. I heard his footsteps; they didn't go far from the door. I'm sure he was listening. I turned away from Mr. Ainsworth and went to my bed, sitting on the edge of it before fixing my eyes on this blonde man once more. He watched me and smiled softly. "You don't talk much." I shook my head before staring out the window at the world outside. The bright colors and happy laughter of other students. "Why?"

Weird. No one ever asked such a question. I looked back at this weird man and then to my feet. "No one will listen. Why talk?"

Mr. Ainsworth moved closer to me at that. "I will listen if you need someone to talk to."

Was he giving me pity too? I glanced up at the man who towered over me. He was intimidating. There was a strange air about him. A scary presence. I didn't move away. I had no reason to be afraid. I just continued to watch him, looking for what I was supposed to say. "Thank you."

Mr. Ainsworth moved to sit next to me as I went back to staring out the window. It was a comfortable silence. However, after a moment, it was broken. "You're like your mother."

A pang shot through me. I turned quickly, my hair hitting my face as the hood of my jacket fell to reveal my strange horns. "My…mother? You…you knew my mother?"

Mr. Ainsworth didn't move away from me. It was comforting. He didn't seem scared, or surprised. He did look sad though. He looked very sad. "I did." He gave a sad smile towards me. "You have her eyes."

I couldn't stop myself from moving closer to him. I grabbed part of his suit jacket, practically crawling into his lap as I felt water well in my eyes. "Did…Did you know my Dad too? Where are they?"

There was an expression of hesitation as Mr. Ainsworth took my slender wrist in his large hand. He pulled me away from his jacket for a moment, but he didn't release his hold on me. "Your mother is…she's gone."

The well of tears that formed in my eyes worsened as my lips trembled. Dead. Did she die because of me? Did she die after she sent me away? I'd never get to meet her. I had so many questions that would never be answered. Right there the wall I had to keep my emotions back flooded me and tears fell from my eyes. I cried. I clutched this strange man and cried. He made no comments. He made no motion to push me away. He held me close and brushed a hand on the back of my head in a soothing manner. Pity. He was probably pitying me.

He let me cry there before in one fluid motion, he adjusted the position and lifted me into his arms as he stood up from the bed. "Good. You are light like your mother." I stared at him in disbelief but hugged myself into the crook of his neck and continued my waterfall. He rubbed my back calmly before I heard him mutter something. It sounded like…a spell.

I clutched myself to him. What was he doing? In the blink of an eye though, I moved my head up to see a beautiful cottage with a lovely garden. Mr. Ainsworth didn't release me or set me on the ground. He merely walked forward. "This will be your new home, Briar. I will care for you."

This was different. I rubbed my eyes vigorously before looking at this strange blonde man. He smiled and moved one of his hands to pat my head, almost as though he knew what I was going to say. "You have questions, and I can answer them. I'm not on good terms with the College though. With recent events and knowledge, it only makes sense."

I stared at him in confusion. "You…kidnapped me?"

"It shouldn't be kidnapping if you are my family. They took you from me." Did he say-

"Did you call me family?" What did he mean by that? How was I his family?

"Yes. Family. You are my family. I will take care of you Briar, and I will make sure that the empty expression in your eyes disappears. You will of course continue practicing magic, but under my supervision, do you understand?" He was forward. Cold, dispassionate voice, like mine. But his words were different than mine somehow.

I nodded my head. I understood. "Please…don't pity me."

I noticed a smile on his face as I began to hug myself to him once more. It was a bright, warm smile. "I wouldn't pity you, Briar. I dislike being pitied too."