Chapter 2: Explanations and breakfast
Cassie's POV
Once I've finally calmed down enough, Riven asks Helia to go get "the others" – I'm assuming he means his other friends – while he grabs some breakfast for the two of us. The other guys don't need any as Helia tells him that they've already had breakfast before Helia came to check on both of us.
So once again, I'm left alone as the two boys leave the clinic to complete their separate tasks. The wonderful sight out of the window offers the perfect distraction to pass the time before they return, and I marvel at the colour of the forest again. Turning to a mirror on the other side of the room, I finger the apple of my cheek, visualising the forest that I've turned away from to see if they are the same shade as my eyes.
No; the leaves outside are too dark. My eyes are more vibrant, more viridian than khaki.
A knock at the door makes me jump – consequently nearly poking my eye out – and I call out to give the person permission to enter. Riven nudges the door open with his back, his elbow pushing the handle down. As he turns to face me, I can see his hands are too occupied with a tray to perform these tasks. Two plates piled high with bacon, sausages, fried egg, and baked beans. The whiff of the highly-unhealthy but highly-delicious food slinks its way quickly over to me, and my stomach shows its approval embarrassingly loudly.
Riven chuckles. "Someone's hungry," he smirks. He places the tray on the bedside table near the bed I used. "Were you looking at your bruise?"
"No, but thanks for reminding me about that," I roll my eyes as I turn back to the mirror, now poking at the imperfection in question. "I was seeing if the trees were the same colour as my eyes."
Riven's reflection grins in my direction. "Not a chance; they're too dark. They don't have the same wow-factor as your eyes."
My brother had once said that my eye colour was completely unnatural – he claimed he meant it in a good way, meaning that nothing could match the colour – and since then, just out of spite, I have been searching for natural objects that have the same colour. Riven has known about this quest for a while, and relishes every opportunity where I fail to match the hue. The closest I have got is grass, but it's still not perfect.
"Whatever," I retort just as the door swings open. Both of us turn to watch the rest of Riven's friends enter the room. There are five of them, including the already-introduced Helia, and all of them have broad shoulders and obvious well-developed muscles. They're all in casual clothes, except one with slightly tanned skin; robe-like garments in a light purple with a yellow pattern in the middle adorn his figure, giving him the air of royalty. The crackle of new power in the room reminds me of the fact that one of them in here is a wizard, and my defence instincts go on automatic alert.
"Wow," one of them speaks. We all turn to the one with deep brown eyes and matching hair with a long side-fringe. "You weren't kidding about her eyes."
They all laugh while Riven smiles his "told you so" smile. Turning to him, I raise my eyebrows in question.
"They noticed how different we look," he explains. "And I told them to wait till they saw your eyes."
"Oh, yeah," I can't help but smiling at the strangers. "One time when we were in town together, an old lady asked if I was his girlfriend. She wouldn't accept his denial nor his explanation that I was his sister."
"That was a traumatic experience," my brother jokes while the specialists almost roll around on the floor with laughter.
"Ha!" I turn to him sardonically. "You weren't seeing it from my view. It was ten times worse."
As the boys calm down, I flick my gaze back to the brown-haired one. "Nice ice-breaker technique," I congratulate him.
He winks then tips his upper body forward in a bow. "Thank you; I thought it was rather good myself."
Grinning at him, I walk towards my bed again, picking up one plate from the tray Riven brought in and sitting down onto the bed. "I need food now."
The specialist with sunshine-blond hair just above his shoulders chuckles again. "That sounds more like Riven."
"You try going two-and-a-half days with no sleep and very little food," I say feigning indignation.
"Which brings us very nicely onto the matter at hand." Riven scrapes a chair across the floor to sit facing me, the chair-back between his legs and propping up his folded arms. The intense interrogatory expression on his face makes my inner me roll her eyes and sigh 'here we go again'.
"What the hell?" my brother calmly sums up his thoughts succinctly as the others grab chairs and form a semi-circle around me, reminding me of little children in a class when the visitor comes in to tell them of their great adventures and exciting tales.
I hope you know this won't have a happy ending, boys.
I sigh, and motion to my plate. "Can I eat while I explain?"
"Sure." Riven's no longer smiling. Bad sign, and it's only going to go downhill from here.
As I gather my thoughts and busy myself with my food, the tension in the room stretches, a thin film covering more and more of the room as the silence continues to grow until I feel like I'm suffocating.
"Wizards," I say, trying not to gasp the word in response to the figurative smothering.
A light flicks on behind my brother's eyes; a purple flame. Deceptively small, but I remember how easily that flame can flare into an inferno. And now, there's very little chance that I'll be able to avoid causing the next inferno.
"Wizards?" he echoes, his voice daring me to go on.
"Mm-hm. They found me in the street when I was alone."
"What did they do?" Thestorm'sbrewing.
I pause for another few seconds, staring at Riven and predicting his reaction. Once I realise there's nothing I can do to prevent his anger, I sigh again. "They were trying to steal my magic. They opened up another portal, but this one felt different to…the one from before; like it was one-way." Breaking our gaze, I take another bite of bacon. "And exponentially more powerful. The wizards themselves were throwing off so much magical energy my hair was practically standing on end with the charge in the air."
"Did you fight back?" Of course Riven would ask that.
I grin at him. "What do you think?"
Riven smirks proudly in response, the blaze in his eyes thankfully dulled slightly with satisfaction. "So what happened after that? Who were they?"
I shrug. "I was sucked into the portal-thing, but I got thrown back out again. They said something about me being rejected – I told them I was seriously offended by that – and they cleared off after that. I couldn't tell you who they were; I didn't hear any specific names mentioned when they were talking. I thought I heard who I assumed to be the leader say something about the Wizards of the Black Circle though, and that they had found the 'last fairy on Earth'."
Surprisingly enough, Riven doesn't jump up in anger at the end of my recount, but processes the information calmly, miles away. He focuses back on me. "Why would they think you're the last fairy on Earth?"
I shrug again. "I went to Earth two weeks ago as a vacation. Pure curiosity. They must have been watching, and assumed I was actually natively from Earth."
"Why you would want to go to Earth for a vacation is beyond me," my brother raises an eyebrow at me, and I roll my eyes at him. "But I guess that makes sense."
Silence falls on the room again, less tense than before this conversation, as answers are searched for. After five minutes, the smaller and slightly less muscular specialist speaks up, his ginger side parting flopping in the way of his glasses. "I can't figure it out, but I can run it by the girls. If it's something to do with wizards, either they or Alfea's headmistress might know something about it."
"Good thinking, Timmy," Helia nods at him.
"We could all head there now," Riven agrees, turning to me. "You'll probably be just as safe at Alfea than here."
I choke on a piece of egg, and gape at him once my mouth is clear. "Wait, Alfea as in the school for fairies?"
Dread floods my body as I consider sharing classes as they speak incantations and practice new spells while I sit awkwardly at the back. Even worse would be sharing the diner with them afterward, the whispers and murmurs floating around in my ears already…
"I can't go there," I shake my head.
Riven frowns. "Why not? This way you could speak to someone who's seen her time of dark magic and dark wizards to get some info about these guys."
"Riven, the Wizards said they were looking for the last fairy on Earth," I remind him, taking my plate off my lap and replacing it on the tray. "So if I stay at a place full of fairies they could be in danger; what if the Wizards are tracking me somehow?"
"If they're tracking you then we're in danger here too," he retorts. "But there aren't any fairies from Earth in Alfea anyway. The one fairy who grew up on Earth is actually native of Sparx, so even she isn't who they're looking for."
"But why does that mean I can't stay here?" I stand up, my anger rising with my voice.
"Because we're going back to classes on Monday," Riven steps closer. "And I'm not sure you'd be allowed to join in, so you'd be bored doing nothing."
"So you're lumping me in with the rest of the fairies, where I'll sit in classes bored doing nothing as well? Yeah, smart move, brother; let's send the magical-invalid to the place where she'll stick out the most!" I sharply turn to face the bed, folding my arms in fury with myself; I've let him see the real reason why I don't want to go to Alfea.
The silence is uncomfortable again as the others pick up on my mistake, and I clench my eyes close as burning, embarrassed tears force their way out.
A small pressure and warmth blooms on my right shoulder, and before I know it, it's grown across my collarbone, a right hand clasping my left shoulder and vice versa as I'm pulled back into someone, their embrace a strong sanctuary. My brother always gives the best hugs, and he always gives them before even I know I need them. I bring my hands up and clutch at his firm forearms, grounding myself to the one place in the world where I feel valued and adequate. An hour, a minute, not long enough, passes with my face pressed into his forearms, and his into my neck. If it weren't for the obvious discomfort of the other specialists in the air, for feeling intrusive on our private moment, I would have forgotten our audience altogether.
Too soon, Riven pulls away, and turns me in his arms, combing one side of my hair with his fingers, drawing it back to my neck and exposing my face, the tear-tracks shining obviously in the brightness in the clinic. The sun illuminates the entire room through the enormous windows, none of the rays broken, and leaving none of Riven's face in shadow.
"Have you heard of the group of fairies called The Winx?" He stares directly into my eyes.
I nod, confused as to why he's bringing them up.
"They're our girlfriends," he explains, and my eyebrows rise. "Each one of them is going out with each one of us."
Flicking my gaze to the other specialists, I see them smiling at each other, silently agreeing that their girlfriends are awesome. I focus back on Riven as he continues.
"They are the most amazing and kindest girls any of us have ever known. They would never make you feel uncomfortable, nor stand by while other people did so. Stick with them, and your time at Alfea will be the best of your life."
A small smile lifts my lips at the sincerity in his voice. His eyes light up again, but the light isn't a flame this time; it's sly, and anticipatory.
"However," he says, failing to suppress a smile that matches that light, "I don't see how a few days at Red Fountain, competing in the fighting tournaments we have in class, would hurt you."
Grinning at him, I resist the urge to throw my arms around him enough to smile slyly back. "Well," I flip my eyebrows, "a girl can't exactly complain about spending a few days in an academy full of hot, noble and muscular guys."
Riven chuckles and shakes his head as I give in to the urge to hug him, burying my face in his shoulder. His arms tighten around me again, pressing me closer, and I relish in the feeling of protection. After a few moments, I realise a flaw in the current situation, and I seek to remedy it.
"Speaking of hot, noble and muscular guys," I pull away from my brother reluctantly, and he looks at me questioningly. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?"
He rolls his eyes at the description of them, but doesn't argue. He turns to face the rest of them, his arm around my shoulders protectively, and the boys are all smiling at us both.
"That one is Timmy," Riven says, pointing to the one with glasses. He smiles at me in return to the one I give him.
Riven's finger moves to the one with blond shoulder-length hair. "That's His Majesty, the King of Eraklyon, Sky." He smirks at Sky's grimace, and I can't help but mirror my brother's expression.
"Shall I practice my curtsy, sire?" I ask Sky, mockingly.
He shakes his head. "No, that's okay." He gives me a look that says 'please don't curtsy' and I laugh.
"That's Brandon," my brother refers to the one with the brown eyes and brown hair. He waves at me slightly, and I copy him.
"You already know Helia," my brother continues, and I nod in confirmation, smiling at Helia.
"The last one is Nabu," Riven introduces me to the one in the robes. My body stiffens slightly at the recollection of his name.
"Nabu," I say carefully, like his name could hurt me. "That must mean you're the wizard."
The guy smiles sadly. "Yes. You've had quite bad luck with wizards, haven't you? You must be fairly wary of them."
Instead of the straight out confirmation, I plan my answer carefully, opting for being diplomatic. "Only those that have bad intentions," I correct him. Translation: give me time and a reason to trust you, and I will. His smile is warmer, grateful, and I'm thankful he understands the truce I've given him.
"I'm grateful for the revival spell you cast on me," I add, suddenly remember my miraculous recovery.
Nabu's smile widens, and he nods his acceptance. "I didn't know if it would work, but I'm glad it did."
"Me too," I agree, nodding.
Turning back to look at my now-empty plate on the bed, I speak to Riven again. "Brother, love you as I do, that was not enough food for someone who has eaten very little for the past three days."
Riven rolls his eyes again before checking the clock on the opposite wall to my bed.
"It's only ten past eight, so breakfast should still be being served in the dining hall. Let's go down there now."
"Yes," Brandon agrees enthusiastically, jumping up from his chair. "Second helpings, I'm all for that."
I giggle at my new friend's eagerness while Riven rolls his eyes.
We make our way out of the clinic as a group, with Riven and me in the middle and the others surrounding us, and I can't help but gape and gaze at the spectacular decor of the famous academy. The rich scent of the polished oak panels that reach halfway up the walls caresses my sense of smell, and the welcoming crimson of the walls gives me the sense of protection. The boys chatter excitedly about the fighting tournament supposedly being held tomorrow. Soon the same aroma of what was on my previous plate joins the oak-scent, and I unconsciously speed up my pace. Luckily, the guys don't laugh at me, as they do the same.
Finally the corridor opens up into the biggest hall I have ever seen. Four long wooden almost picnic tables stretch the length of the hall, which has to be at least a hundred feet. The number of people in the room makes the size of the room seem a little over the top, but I guess that these people are the ones who enjoy taking their time with their breakfast, or those who wanted a lie-in. The rest of the population of the vast academy have probably already had their meal and are up in their dorms relaxing, out in the school-grounds getting some extra practice, or in the nearest town for a day-out. The walls have the same panels as in the corridors but the crimson upper half has brightened to the same gentle cream in the clinic. The vast windows here are also similar to those in the clinic, making the room so much brighter and illuminating the large amounts of food on tables under the windows. The range is amazing. They have cold dishes, like cereal and bowls of fruit and yoghurt. Then, in containers designed to retain heat, there's things like porridge and the choices I had on my previous plate; bacon, sausages, eggs – either fried, boiled or scrambled – and potato cakes or hash browns. Then there's "dessert" stuff like pancakes and syrup or ice-cream.
Apparently my stomach has already digested through my first plate, and sounds its annoyance at my staring and not eating.
The guys and I quickly choose a relatively empty spot on the far right table to sit. The rest of the guys say they will keep the places while Riven – who hasn't eaten yet – Brandon and I get our meals, and we thank them before walking off to our target spots. I make my way over to the cooked breakfast selection again with Brandon, while Riven goes to the cereal at the other end of the table. Knowing his protectiveness, I'm surprised he doesn't stay by my side, "just to keep me safe." Maybe he's finally learned that I'm not as fragile as he thinks.
Yeah,that'slikely, I think sarcastically.
"Riven doesn't know what he's missing with this stuff," Brandon says, handing a plate over to me before taking one for himself. "Who needs cereal when you've got bacon?"
"Vegans?" I suggest, suppressing a smile.
He makes a face at me. "Don't be pedantic."
I laugh, and he grins at me.
"I will be over there," he points towards the pancakes, "getting an extra-large dose of unhealthy-ness."
"You're getting dessert before you've eaten your cooked breakfast?" I look at him disbelievingly.
He shrugs, walking backwards. "You'll get used to me eventually."
Smiling, I shake my head as he turns around and walks over to the other table. Glancing back to the table the guys are at, I see my brother there, already starting on his cereal. I turn back to the container of sausages, reaching for the fork laid out to serve with. Another hand reaches the fork at the same time as mine though, our skin touching just for a second – enough for me to feel the slight scars from fighting contrasting with the softness elsewhere on the skin – and startling me enough for me to drop the fork. My eyes follow the lean but muscular arm up to a pair of broad shoulders, up the line of the pale-ish, smooth neck to the face.
The unblemished skin matches the hue I saw on his neck, the full lips parted slightly in surprise. Thick dark brown hair – the colour of dark chocolate – flicks down just enough to kiss the tops of his eyelids. And his eyes…one time, Riven and I were taken to a beach resort, and I can recall the spectacular colour of the ocean there; a wonderful myriad of sapphire, azure, aquamarine and emerald. I never thought I'd see that colour again outside of that resort. Getting lost in these eyes right now – a good few inches above mine – I was wrong.
"Oh, beg your pardon, miss," a silky – but obviously masculine – voice startles me. It takes me a while to realise those soft words came out of the lips of the wondrous male specimen in front of me. As I focus back, I see him turn the fork handle towards me.
"Ladies first," he smiles, stunning me again.
Luckily, I manage to snap out of my reverie myself this time. "Oh, no, that's okay, thank you. I'm kind of already on my second helping." I dip my head, smiling sheepishly.
"Oh yeah?" those eyes sparkle playfully, obviously impressed. The guy shrugs his shoulders, keeping his plate perfectly level. "I'm on my third."
A laugh bubbles up my throat at his statement, and his lips stretch and split to reveal an orderly line of dazzling whiteness, and I can see the sun outside doing a double-take. He holds the fork out to me again.
"Go ahead," he insists, and I relent and take it from him, piercing a few sausages and dropping them onto my plate. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him still watching me and smiling.
"So you must be Riven's sister," he says.
"Yeah," I confirm. "Cassie Cestanne. I would shake your hand, but mine are kind of taken at the moment." (Hersurnameispronouncedkuh-STAN).
He chuckles and reaches over again, and I freeze as he gently pries the fork from my right hand, brushing my fingers as he does so, and places it back in the sausage container. Once done, his right hand moves towards mine again, this time deliberately clasping mine, his fingers twining around my hand in a gentle but firm way that betrays his ability to be powerful. The electric shocks buzzing up my arm stun me enough to stop me from squeezing his own hand.
"Danny Qator," he nods slightly. (Surnamepronouncedkuh-TOR).
We both stare at each other some more, not moving from our physical connection until we realise the length of time we've been standing like that, and awkwardly – and reluctantly – let each other go. Danny picks up the fork again to serve himself.
"So the rumours have already made the rounds, huh?" I ask, wanting to get back to normal conversation with him.
He smiles again, shrugging. "This is an all-boys high school."
"And yet it would be so much worse if it was all girls," I note.
A joyful, velvet laugh escapes him. "True," he admits. "So what's happening with you anyway?"
I look at him in surprise; the first question I expected out of him was 'why are you here?' And yet, his question indicates he's more interested in my present and future, rather than my past. He glances over at me when I don't respond for a few seconds, and he seems to understand my expression, shrugging again.
"I know you must have come here, looking for your brother, for a pretty dangerous and/or personal reason. If that's the case, and it happened to me, I wouldn't want someone I'd only just met prodding for details about what happened. Our own pasts belong to us, and you should only trust your possessions to those you trust dearly. If you ever want to tell me about what happened, it'll be your decision to tell me when you're ready."
My mouth is almost on the floor by the end of his speech; the words that have come out of his mouth have been my exact lifelong principle when it comes to asking people about personal things. I have never found anyone who shared those views. Until now.
"I thought I was the only one who thought like that," I breathe, smiling slightly.
Danny blinks in surprise, then smiles softly too. "No way; someone has to be ready to tell you something, not pushed into doing it."
Comfortable silence falls between us again as we stand and smile at each other, neither willing to break the moment. Since Danny was really the one to break it last time, I decide it's my turn.
"I'm hoping to stay here for a few days, two at the most," I answer his previous question. "Then I'll probably move to Alfea."
Danny raises his eyebrows. "Cool; there's a fighting tournament tomorrow. It should be pretty exciting to watch, although joining in is the most fun."
"Who says I'm going to watch?" I smile slyly at him, hoping he gets my message.
The startled look on his face indicates that he does, and the playfulness returns to his eyes as he narrows them slightly at me, trying to determine if I'm joking or not. Eventually, it dawns on him that I'm being honest, and he flips his eyebrows.
"In that case, I'm looking forward to it even more than I was before," he says.
"Me, too."
He nods slightly, almost to himself, while staring down at me. "I'll see you around, Cassie."
I nod once. "See you later, Danny."
He hesitates a few seconds, then turns to walk away, and I follow suit. We both steal glances at each other over our shoulders as we return to our respective seats.
So, how was that chapter? Excuse me while I swoon over a guy that…I made up in my head. Why are the good ones always either gay, taken or not even real? :P
Fly on,
NitnatRide
