IMPORTANT! THIS IS A TRIGGER WARNING, ADDED DUE TO REQUEST. This story may or may not contain disturbing content that may severely affect some people. The purpose of this content is not to be controversial, but to be realistic to the world being portrayed. I hope anyone offended or hurt understands, and I hope this story can somehow bring you solace in the end. Thank you for your time.
Author's Note: Here it is. I proudly present a chapter that was conceived before even the story line, a chapter that the entire book(s) are built on, a chapter that explains and reveals many answers, and finally, a chapter I've spent more time thinking, crying, and agonizing over than I have writing. I hope you all enjoy Chapter 21, one of the defining chapters for the novel.
On a more personal note, thank you all for your well-wishes and encouragement. I actually got too sick to go to class, and I remembered some of your comments asking for more quickly. So, I hunkered down with some many warm, caffeinated drinks, and got to work. Somehow it all turned out well, but I'm just saying, I don't know if any of the next chapters will come out nearly as quick. I've played this one over in my head so many times I could probably perform most of it on the spot without a script.
Just in case some of you were wondering, I have about 7ish more chapters. The ending in my notes has a lot of leeway for length because (vaguely worded explanation to build intrigue). Certain things I write tend to either be a lot longer or shorter than I expect. Things like fight scenes and introspective thoughts vary wildly.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!
Chapter Twenty-one
I didn't bring my umbrella today.
I shake my head, scrubbing harder at the dojo floor, the pattering of rain almost hypnotic on the roof. It's calming, and I almost forget about what happened with Kyle.
I scrub faster, putting my muscle into cleaning the wood. The floor slowly starts to shine, taking on a reflective sheen that vividly shows my face. I try to ignore the tired look in my own eyes, and the fact that the small smile I usually have is absent.
I sigh, taking a short break to wipe the sweat from my brow.
I messed up with Kyle. I didn't mean to, but I did. I thought I knew more than him, that I knew everything about magic, and I was wrong. If I hadn't been so prideful and just trusted him, he would still be training with me. He wouldn't have gotten beaten constantly day after day.
He trusted me. So Why didn't I trust him?
I get back to scrubbing, moving the water bucket to a new location.
It's not that I didn't trust him… I just thought I knew better. I thought I was the expert on magic. I assumed, and he paid the price.
My arm starts to ache, but I keep cleaning.
I haven't seen him in a week now. I've tried to find him a few times based on little hints from past conversations, but no luck. I shouldn't be surprised, really. I wouldn't want to see a pretentious jerk whose life I saved and got betrayed by in return either.
I swallow, closing my eyes and pausing.
I need to find Kyle and make this right. I can help him, I know I can. This time, I'll teach him to protect himself. I'll show him whatever magic he wants. I owe him that much.
I hear a door open, startling me slightly, and I look up to see my two friends enter, big smiles on them both.
Eliza, short and frail with her messy shoulder length blond hair, clutches a piece of paper, her eyes shining. I can't help but smile back. Poor Eliza had always been beaten and targeted by the Noxians before Zane started being guardian for everyone. The fear from those days has always haunted her, making her flinch at the slightest motion or sound. Some people called her mouse behind her back, but never in front of me. Not if they wanted to get away with it.
Amara stands in front of her, taller and lanky, her hair also blond but falling in a smooth wave to just below her shoulders. Her eyes are a sharp, sky blue that reflect her fierceness, but her mouth has a small, quirked smile that counters that hostility. Amara was good people, the kind that stood up for others and took things lightly. She got a little hot-headed at times and tended to lean on the cynical side when it came to Noxians, but her light attitude and humor kept her from coming across cold.
They walk over to me, and I stand up, raising an eyebrow and a smile at them.
"I told you she'd be here," Amara says, nudging Eliza in the side.
"That's because she always stays late!" Eliza protests, stumbling slightly. "That's like saying the sun always rises!"
"Doesn't make it any less true," Amara shrugs, and I laugh.
"What are you two still doing here?" I ask, grinning.
"Just seeing how our dear leader is doing," Amara says, looking at the water bucket next to me. "What, did you lose a kendo match or something? Shouldn't one of the newbies be doing this sort of thing?"
"Nah, I won against Kenji this time," I shrug. "I just volunteered."
"Classic Aria," Amara sighs, patting me on the back and shaking her head sadly. "Never giving up on doing the good deeds."
"Someone's got to make up for slackers like you," I respond dryly.
"Pfft," Amara laughs. "You're just jealous my talents lie in supervising work."
"Sure," I say rolling my eyes. "Talents. Right. Maybe I could believe that if you even showed up for half your duties."
"That," She says, poking me in the arm. "Is just how good I am at supervising. I don't even have to be there."
I laugh, giving her a light shove back.
"Seriously, though, what are you two doing here?"
"Well," Amara says, a sly look in her eyes. "Eliza has a little surprise for you."
"Oh?" I ask, and Eliza beams, bringing out a scroll from behind her back.
"They finally agreed!" Eliza squeals.
"No way!" I gasp, eyes widening. "Seriously?"
"Yup!" Eliza nods. "As of today, the school now has a swim club!"
"Eliza, that's wonderful!" I grin, throwing my arms around her in a hug.
She hugs me back, and we both laugh. The swim club had been an idea for a long time, but the headmaster never wanted to allow it because of the already low budget for the other, more popular clubs like kendo and archery. But… well…
There's always room for a little persuasion. Especially when it's someone as sweet as Eliza asking. She may not be coordinated or strong, but she can swim like nobody else I've ever seen. This had been her dream for a long time.
"So," I ask, pulling out of the hug but still gripping her arms tightly. "Who's in it so far? How many did you get?"
"There's only eight of us," She shrugs, a hint of pride in her voice. "But I was hoping I could possibly convince you to make it nine…"
I blink, half surprised.
"W-wait," I stumble. "You want me to join?"
"Well of course we do!" Amara suddenly jumps in, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "We gotta' give the guys here at least some chance to see you!"
"Amara!" I elbow her in the gut, blushing.
"I tease, I tease!" She laughs. "But seriously, we know how much you love swimming, so…"
"I was wondering if you wanted to be vice-president of the club," Eliza finishes, eyes sparkling.
"I-I'm honored," I stutter. "But… um…"
"Oh come on!" Amara insists, pulling me closer. "Don't you remember last year at the beach? When you said you'd love if there was a club? It's too late to back out now!"
"I mean, I'm just not that good of a swimmer," I say, giving a noncommittal shrug.
"Aria, you're the second fastest swimmer in the entire school!" Eliza says, narrowing her eyes. "Don't try any of that humbleness on us."
I sigh, shaking my head but still smiling. I gently pull away from Amara's arm, and then I grab Eliza's hand holding it gently with both of mine, looking into her eyes.
"Eliza," I begin, the words coming slowly. "I would love to join your club. It's just… I've been really busy lately. Between kendo practice, running the shop, helping Zane with the duels, running to stay in shape, schoolwork, and tra-uh, a few other things, I just don't know when I'd have the time."
"Easy," Amara shrugs, putting her hands behind her head in a relaxed pose. "Just swim instead of running. You still get your cardio in, and you get to look good doing it."
I let out a defeated huff of air, hanging my head low. I slowly look up, glancing between the two of them.
"I'm not getting out of this, am I?"
"Nope!" they both respond at the same time, and I laugh.
"Alright, alright! I'll join. Just know I'm going to be busy and might miss a few practices!"
"No problem!" Eliza nods.
"Pfft," Amara snickers. "Who's the slacker now?"
I give a half-hearted kick at her shins that she jumps away from, holding up her hands.
"Whoa there," Amara says, cracking her knuckles. "If you want to fight me, it's only fair you know I'm the second strongest in the martial arts club."
"Huh," I say nonchalantly, releasing Eliza's hand and crouching back down to resume scrubbing the floors. "And here was I thinking you only joined that club to get a little closer to my brother."
"Pfft, he wishes!" Amara scoffs, folding her arms and looking away haughtily. Her cheeks give her away though, a rosy glow beginning to appear.
"Oh, ok," I shrug, soaking the sponge in the bucket. "I guess I'll tell him you aren't interested then. I mean, he'll be a little heartbroken after just asking me about you-"
"He did not!" Amara interrupts, face bright red. "...did he?"
"No, but it's nice to know you care so much what he says about you."
Amara groans, grabbing Eliza's hand and beginning to lead her away.
"Come on, let leave our fearless vice-pres to her cleaning."
"Practice is right after school!" Eliza shouts as she is dragged away, giggling and waving vigorously.
I wave back as they leave, shaking my head.
Those two. I can always rely on them to brighten my day.
I continue my scrubbing, my heart thrumming with glee from our exchange, just like it does every time I get to see them. If there was ever any doubt in me that good people existed, I would only need to see Amara and Eliza to be reminded of just how much light there is in the world. It can be dark and scary at times, but people like them make it all worth it.
I start humming a little song as I scrub, occasionally singing a few verses from the song.
"Little caged bird, don't stop your sweet song."
The rain seems to lighten up a little, only the occasional heavy droplet landing on the rooftop.
"Bars of iron, cruel and cold surround you."
Maybe it will be done raining by the time I'm done cleaning.
"Wings broken by the world around you."
I wipe away at some of the sweat on my forehead, readjusting a few stray black hairs that fell from my ponytail.
"Yet still you sing, songs that don't belong."
I finish cleaning, and put away the bucket and sponge.
"Don't stop, little caged bird, because my heart soars with you."
I take one last quick look around the dojo with a satisfied smile, making sure I missed nothing. Then I grab my school pack and leave, heading out through the garden. Sure enough, the rain seems to have let up, but the dark, thick clouds threaten more soon. A low rumble of thunder echoes in the distance, and I shiver, picking up my pace.
I made a mistake with Kyle. He saved my life, and I didn't trust him. I hurt him.
But that doesn't mean I have to keep beating myself up about it.
No. I owe him a solution, not my self-pity, and that's what I'm going to give him. I can figure out how to make all this right. I know I can, because I've done it before for Eliza, for all the Ionians at the academy.
I didn't mean to be Noxian to Kyle, effectively manipulating him into trusting me while I kept myself safe. That hardly matters though. What matters is what I'm going to do about it.
I shift my bag on my shoulder, building my resolve.
I'm going to find Kyle, and I'm not going to just show him kinomancy, I'm going to show him any combat magic he wants. More than that, I'm going to offer him what he's always wanted: a fair fight.
If I can convince Kyle to let me stay nearby but out of sight the next time he fights, I can counter any magic in the area. It would be a complex spell to even effect through aura based magic, but I can pull it off. I have to.
I reach the end of the forest, looking up as I see movement, a figure stepping from behind the corner of the academy.
My heart stops as I look up straight into the face of Kyle standing only a few feet away, soaking wet and expressionless. His eyes are dark, a shroud of tightly controlled emotion.
I swallow, suddenly lost for words. All my plans, my good intentions and apologies, they all disappear in an instant, replaced only with a mixture of guilt and sorrow. I feel my lip wobble a few times, trying to say something, anything.
"I… need your… he...," Kyle whispers, his voice trailing off. "Maybe… this was a bad idea. Nevermind…"
"Kyle…" I trail off, deep stabs of regret hitting me with even more force.
Kyle turns, and starts walking away quickly. I blink, and hurry following him. I catch up, walking right behind him, and I almost reach out to touch his shoulder.
Then I see the way he walks. His body is limp, like he's completely given up. His shoulders sag, his steps are more of an aimless stumble than a walk, and his head remains lowered, his soggy hair dripping over his face.
I pull my hand back, biting my lip hard and looking away.
I did this. I did this. To someone. To another human being.
My hands clench, and I stifle the tears, trying to build my determination once again.
"Kyle, where are you… where are we going?" I ask, my voice soft.
"Just…" he sighs, a mixture of frustration and desperation in his voice. "Are you going to help or not?"
"Yes," I answer simply, putting sincerity into the voice.
He simply nods, still not looking at me.
We continue walking through the streets, mostly empty from the heavy rain. We pass by a young, laughing couple as they run through the muddy streets, giggling as they hold onto each other. I see another man stumble from an alley, obviously drunk, and he ambles away, a lost and faraway look in his eyes. Kyle takes a turn down another street, and I almost trip over a man in a dark cloak sitting against a wall, oblivious to the rain.
It's been a rainy season lately, so none of this really surprises me. The true squalor of occupied Ionia only really comes out when someone looks closely enough. For instance the fact that the young couple were wearing smiles that were forced, their eyes touched with tragedy. Or the fact the drunk's clothes were ripped, his body covered in bruises probably from a beatdown. Even the cloaked figure sitting in the rain has a story, one that ended with him there, alone and homeless.
This is what pain does to people. Even if we try to forget it, it changes us. It doesn't matter if it's something big or small, pain is pain. I used to think Noxians were the only ones who could cause so much pain. Now I know better, because of what I did to Kyle.
I shudder, and continue to follow Kyle through the streets, my throat tight.
"Whatever you need," I whisper, a distant roll of thunder almost washing the words away. "I'm here for you."
He stops suddenly, and I almost trip trying not to walk into him. I see his head turn ever so slightly, his messy, wet hair still obscuring his face.
"You mean that?" he asks, his voice hoarse.
"Whatever it takes," I find myself responding instantly, without thinking. "I'll teach you kinomancy. I'll show you how to counter aura shields. I'll get Zane to help. I'll counter magic. Whatever you need, and whatever it takes to make this right."
He shifts on his feet, his hand shaking ever so slightly.
"Why?" he asks, his voice breaking with emotion. "After what I said to you… after everything that's happened between us… why?"
I slowly step around him, turning so I'm facing him. I still can't see beneath his mop of hair, but I do my best to look into his eyes.
"Because the last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt," I say, my voice trembling. "You're a good person, Kyle, one who deserves better than what's happened to you. I know what that's like, believe me, I do. Even if you can't forgive me… I want to fix this."
Something akin to regret flashes across his face, just for a moment, and then it's gone, his eyes closing.
"Why did you lie to me?" he asks. "I trusted you… why didn't you just tell me the truth?"
His dripping hair makes it hard to tell if there's tears falling down his cheeks, but it doesn't matter. His voice carries the weight of the pain.
"Because I was scared," I respond. "Because I was scared to trust a Noxian. I didn't want to get hurt, but you got hurt instead. I never meant to deceive you, I just… was weak. That's all."
We stand still in that moment, and I hardly dare to breathe. Faint raindrops fall onto us, marking the return of the storm. Neither of us acknowledges it, not even when a flash of lightning splits the sky. We just stand there, Kyle giving me the grace I don't deserve of listening to me, and me trying to stay standing from the pain of my trembling heart.
"Oh," he says simply, walking past me into an alley.
I blink, and then follow after him, taking a left when the alley suddenly turns halfway to the other…
Isn't this the same alley Kyle faught with Evan in only a week ago?
My steps falter as we get halfway down the alley, and Kyle stops with me, turning around. For the first time, he looks up at me, his eyes practically glowing.
"I wonder," he spits. "If you know how much I went through. If you realize just how much I gave up."
My chest is tight, and my throat refuses to let me say anything, practically choking me.
"Kor wanted to give a show of force to end Zane's, your brother's, guardianship over the Ionian students," he smolders. "He was going to do whatever it took to make him stop, and I was the last one with influence, the last person holding out. If I hadn't fought, if I hadn't believed Ionians were honorable."
His lip starts wobbling, his hands turning into fists.
"So where was your honor when you repaid me risking my life and reputation to save you?" Kyle shouts, eyes wild. "Where was your honor when you lied to me over and over again? Where was the honor when you let your fear control you?"
I flinch, tears dripping from my eyes.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," I manage to choke out.
"And yet you did all the same! Your intentions don't matter, only the outcome! You used me to make yourself feel heroic and good and never thought twice about it! You're worse than any Noxian! At least we admit to ourselves what we're doing! You can preach all you want about making a mistake, about trying to help me, but this was never about me! This was about you making yourself feel less pathetic, and you know that's the truth!"
The small spatters of rain stop, a sudden quiet in the air. I feel my balance wobble, my legs stiffly holding me up. My vision flickers.
"You're a monster."
"No," I whisper, more to myself than him.
"You can hide behind your masks all you want," Kyle continues. "But the truth is, you only pretended to help me to make yourself feel important and to get petty revenge for things I didn't even have anything to do with."
I stare down at the mud below me. There's nothing to say, because there's truth in his words. If Noxians hurt people because they want to become more powerful, what kind of person hurts another without even trying to?
A monster. A monster does.
"You people," Kyle seethes. "You play the victim card, and yet you still pretend we aren't playing the same game, trying to be stronger and more powerful than anyone else. They tried to tell me, but now I realize how much of a fool I've been. There's no difference between Noxians, Ionians, or any other group. There's only people, and in the end, they always look out for only themselves."
I close my eyes. My whole life I've only thought of it as us versus them. Now, I see he's right. We all are equally evil when we want to be. I made Kyle suffer because I thought I was better than him, a better mage and a better person because I was Ionian. My first thoughts about teaching him magic were what if he betrayed me.
If I hadn't been so prideful, hadn't looked down on him, I would have seen he was exactly the same as me, living in a foreign land with cruel rules that no one could defy. The only difference between us was that I wasn't willing to use my power to help others, while he did it on instinct to save my life.
I'm not some grand protector of the weak, some tragic hero taking on their burdens and pains.
I am the weak.
"Now that I know just who I'm up against," he says, his words suddenly cold and flat. "I can start playing by your rules. Considering you have none, that won't be too hard now, will it?"
My head snaps up, looking at him with wide eyes as I feel a subtle wave of energy wash over me, smothering my senses. A silencing field, the same one I trained Kyle in, suddenly fills the alleyway, thrumming with the power of anger.
"Kyle?" I ask, fear suddenly clawing at me. "What are you doing?"
"What I should have done the first time Kor asked me to."
My stomach lurches, a falling sensation making me nauseous as two figures step from behind Kyle. They sink out of the shadows, walking to stand just behind Kyle, dark rain cloaks swaying behind them. Evan, the one to my left, lowers his hood, looking at me with calculating eyes. Kor doesn't remove his hood, but I can tell he is the other by the dark, shaggy hair underneath his hood.
I take a step back, my muscles tensing up as fear stabs into me with each beat of my heart.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a familiar, arrogant voice says.
I whip my head around only to see two more figures, one a girl who only looks somewhat familiar, and the other is Damon, the new kid who my brother beat, who pushed me off the catwalk. His spiky blond hair and hungry eyes only accented by his sharp smile.
I'm surrounded.
"Kyle," I gasp, turning back to him. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," Kyle states, his voice hard. "This is what you've done to yourself."
I look around slowly, hands trembling. This is a joke, right? No, that's exactly what this is. This is just a scare tactic, Kyle must have told them about Zane being my brother. They think they can scare me into making him stop.
I swallow, forcing myself to ignore Kyle's betrayal. I can talk my way out of this, the way Fairfax has taught me.
"Kor," I nod in his direction, my words frustratingly shaky.
He lowers the hood, his bored face barely tilting into a nod.
"If you do not mind," I continue. "I would like to return home now. I've had a long day and-"
I'm interrupted by laughter from Damon behind me, sharp and high pitched enough to make me flinch. Kor tilts his eyes ever so slightly past me, and the laughter stops as quickly as it begins. Kor's dark gaze trails back to me slowly, meticulously.
"I don't think you understand the situation you're in," he rasps, voice barely louder than a murmur.
"I do," I insist, a chilled wind sweeping past me. "You want me to deliver a message, and so I will. I'll tell Zane about your threat."
"You mean your brother?" Kor says. "The one you've been subtly helping win duels through magic?"
I blink.
"What? I never-"
"No, you didn't," Kor interrupts. "Evan would have noticed that. But the truth doesn't matter, does it? No. Only what people perceive to be the truth."
"So what?" I ask, lip wobbling. "This is blackmail? Zane backs off, and you don't spin your tale?"
"We're far past that," Kor shakes his head, his dark, raspy voice grating against me. "We went past that the moment you stained our honor by using loopholes. Now it's time for restitutions. It's time your precious Ionian goodwill and honor was stained and revealed for what it really is."
Every beat of my heart sends shocks of terror through me, and all I can do is slowly look between Kor and Kyle. My bones tremble.
"You can't do this."
"Oh but I can," Kor sighs. "You see, if anyone Noxian receives the approval of all Noxians affected by the rules, they are allowed to ignore them. It's called the Drastic Measures rule, appointing one leader to attain retribution that honor would keep us from. We aren't stupid. Rules are made to be guidelines, changing as new situations arise. Situations like arrogant Ionians stepping out of their place and disgracing us with their own interpretations."
I stop breathing, my eyes widening.
"You see," Kor says, making a slight gesture with his hand. "You aren't here to deliver a message. You're here because you are the message."
I draw in a sharp breath, desperately trying to remember the basics of fighting that Zane and Akira taught me. I shift my feet into a wide stance, lifting my trembling hands to my face in tight fists. My heart practically beats out of me, and sweat has already formed on my brow. Kyle's silencing magic is still in effect, but I do my best to slowly gather my aura into a shield around me.
"You can't do this," I mutter, not sure if I'm trying to buy time or convince myself. "You can't do this…"
"I can. " Kor smirks. "I can because you broke the rules first. I couldn't have done anything nearly so drastic as what I'm about to if you hadn't attacked Evan outside of a duel. Now, well, the rules are a little murky on just how far one can go against a betrayer of honor and law."
Five Noxians surround me, two of which I know for a fact can use magic. They have me at a disadvantage, already laying down silencing magic. I don't stand a chance against them physically. If I'm going to do something, I need to do it fast.
My aura finally condenses around me, and I start gathering energy, preparing to cast the strongest spells I know. The silencing spell will nullify any magic the second it leaves my body, but all I need to do is break Kyle's concentration for a second. Then I make my real move, and I escape. This can work. Here goes-
"If it helps," Kor lazily closes his eyes, seeming to have lost interest in me. "Kyle was the one who suggested just what we are going to do to you. So every second of pain and agony belongs to him, and the best part is, you have only yourself to blame. Every choice you've made has led you here. I wonder how that feels, to finally realize you're the villain and we're the righteous."
My concentration falters as my stomach twists inside me, and I blink, trying to shut out the words. When my eyelids lift, I have only a second to register the blur of motion in front of me before something hits me hard in the lower ribs.
I let out a gasp that turns into a cough of blood as my body is lifted a few inches off the ground from the force of the blow, my ribs cracking in crystalline agony. I somehow manage to land on my feet, desperately drawing in as much magic as I can, trying to-
Evan, fighting with both hands pocketed, spins in a blur of motion that brings his left foot into the side of my head. Red covers my vision as I feel my jaw and cheek crunch under the pressure, my head and body twisting painfully.
Evan's foot slams into my lower back, but with my balance already gone it only pushes me to the ground, skidding across the muddy ground and almost into the alley wall.
Thunder roars, closer than it was before.
My jaw, cheek, and right eye all scream in dull, throbbing pain, while my ribs whine with sharp, tormenting stabs that rob me of my breath. My face and hands are full of tiny cuts from sliding across the half mud half dirt ground, burning against my senses. I try to take in a deep breath to collect myself, but it only results in an overwhelming shriek of pressure, like a thousand needles pressing against my lungs. I would scream, but that would require air, a luxury I no longer have.
"Bring her over here."
A hand clamps down on my hair, dragging me backwards. I try to get my feet underneath me, but every movement of my torso sends stars across my vision. I'm thrown to the ground a moment later, feebly trying to break my fall with my hands, but my face still slams painfully into the ground, hitting something hard. Someone grabs the back collar of my blazer and pulls me up so I'm kneeling.
Blood, hot and thick starts streaming down above my right eye, curling around it and down my cheek. My breaths are ragged, and I clutch at my stomach, trying my best not to make even the slightest movement.
"I told you not to be too rough with her," Kor growls. "How many ribs did you break?"
"None. Her organs are just bruised. The pain will lessen in a moment."
True to Evan's words, I slowly find myself more capable of breathing, and I take slow, shallow breaths in to test my capacity. I slowly look up at Kor, my neck stiff and painfully tight.
He stares down at me, regarding me for a moment. Then he holds out a hand to his side. Kyle hands him something silently. Kor crouches down in front of me, bringing the item up next to his face.
It's a white mask with diamond shaped teeth on the outside, it's cruel and empty, slanting eyes staring back at me. It's the same mask I wore when I fought Evan before, the one I used to mask my identity.
"I find your choice in masks interesting," Kor rasps. "So interesting, I did some research on this particular one and what it meant."
Kor gently sets it down in front of me, standing up with a sigh.
"It's funny," Kor says. "That you would choose a mask that suits you so well."
"What are you talking about?" I mumble, the taste of iron on my tongue.
"The mask you chose," Kor muses. "Is one that represents demons, tricksters, and voidborn. It's the mask of monsters. Quite the statement, don't you think? I've got to say, it takes a special kind of monster to pull it off, but luckily, it describes you perfectly."
"I'm not a monster!" I shout, anger and hate rising inside the depths of me.
"No?" Kor raises an eyebrow. "As far as I'm concerned, you fit all the criteria. First of all, you don't think you're one, and no monster does really. Secondly, you only ever act like one, hurting those around you to keep yourself alive and 'strong.' And finally, you even use monstrous powers, like that unique little magic of yours, you know, the one that devours everything around it? As far as unique auras and magics go, I don't think I've ever heard of one more suited for a monster."
I look away, a mixture of revulsion and hate stirring inside me.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Kor murmurs. "Not even a denial. Ah well. I guess I should tell you what we're going to do now, shouldn't I?"
I try to pull my focus together again, but pain robs me of any discipline. If Kyle's silencing field wasn't interfering, I might be able to put together a simple spell, but with Evan's kick to my head added on, my jumbled thoughts don't stand a chance.
I'm drawn back to reality when Kyle steps forward, raising a book in front of me.
Runes, Marks, and Sigils: A Complete Guide to Every Type of Magical Seal.
I recognize the book. It's the one I helped Kyle pick out to teach him more about silencing magic. I told him making some simple runes of sealing around the area he fought in would keep anyone from easily using magic. He told me the next day it hadn't worked, but he was going to keep reading, trying to figure out why.
"You know, I read this book so many times," Kyle says scornfully. "That when I realized you were the one who needed to be punished, it took me all of three seconds to remember what I read in this book."
He opens it up to a page, a smile spreading on his lips.
"The symbol is less important than the intent," he starts reading, satisfaction in his voice. "As magic is the power of will, any real symbol put onto any object should work for all intents and purposes. Generally, the simpler the job of the spell, the more it can affect."
He shuts the book loudly, eyes sliding back down to me.
"Everything you are," Kyle whispers. "Has been defined by your magic. It's the source of everything you do, think, and the only meager power you really have. So, I thought to myself, if runes can be put on just about anything, why not put a rune capable of sealing magic onto someone? A magical tattoo of sorts, capable of making them never use magic again, fueling itself with their own power."
My blood chills, sound becoming weirdly distorted as I process his words. That… that can't work. No, that's not possible…
A spell, weaved onto someone's skin, feeding off the power inside the wearer to sustain itself. That… it would last forever, as long as the mark remained, even if the purpose was to stop them from casting magic... no… surely that can't be possible. Something like that would need precedent, someone would have done it before-
Everything stops.
There is a precedent. Ryze, the League of Legend champion, who has magical tattoos over his entire body.
Panic rises inside me, and I start struggling, letting out a scream.
"Help! Someone help-"
A fist slams into my face, breaking my nose with a soft crunch. I let out a painful breath, spraying a mist of blood in front of me, my vision wavering once again. I can feel the blood smeared over my mouth and jaw, more coming from my nose in a constant stream.
"None of that now," Kor says disappointedly. "Kyle's silencing spell isn't just stopping you from using magic, it's keeping the sound in this area localized. Besides, we have other contingencies in place."
I flail an arm, trying to punch him in the face, but a firm grip stops my arm. A second hand wraps around my other arm, twisting both painfully behind my back.
"None of that now," Kor says, making a tsk sound. "We have quite a bit to do, and we really can't afford slowdowns. Afterall, we need to make a mark that represents your cowardice and makes it clear anyone can beat you up for breaking the rules and attacking Evan, we need to make sure the mark clearly shows what kind of monster you are, and all the while we have to make sure there's enough room for the sealing symbol. It's going to be quite a work of art all in all."
"You can't do this…" I shudder weakly, desperately trying to think of something, some rule or way to get out of this.
"See," Kor continues, ignoring me. "We're not going to take any chances this mark will ever disappear, so the girl behind you, Mira, is going to use magefire to burn it into your back. It's sort of poetic. Any time you turn your back on someone, your true nature will be revealed, scorched black into that pale, fragile skin of yours."
I open my mouth to let out a scream, but Kor sees it coming. His hand moves, chopping me in the throat, and I choke on pain and spit, coughing and wheezing for air.
"This mark," Kor whispers as I struggle. "Is going to represent everything you are. Let me describe it to you, seeing as you might have some trouble looking yourself. It's gong to be the outline of that mask you have, including the eyes and teeth. A line will drip down from each eye to represent your cowardly tears. Finally, on the forehead of the mask, will be the sealing mark, the cross with the ends of the horizontal bar turned diagonally upward."
As Kor describes it to me, he draws it in the mud with his finger, right next to my face so I can see it.
"And now," Kor says with a sigh, standing up. "I leave it to our artist. Mira, care to begin?"
"Sure," I hear the girl behind me say. "Take off her blazer. I'll cut off the rest."
I fight against Evan's grapple, Struggling with all my might to break free. I manage to slip an arm away, reaching around and clawing to free the other one. There's a sudden force hitting the back of my head, and everything disintegrates.
The next thing I know, I'm lying against the ground, the sleeve of my blazer pressed into my mouth and each limb being held down by someone. I try to shake them off, but my attempts are feeble and uncoordinated, my mind sluggishly trying to fight back.
Helplessness. It feels like I'm ripping and clawing my own mind apart, grasping for anything to save me, only to have my fight snuffed out. My heart lives in my throat, it's beat loud enough to remind me of my fear with each jarring lurch.
"Stop struggling," the girl Mira says, a wicked looking knife suddenly appearing in front of my eyes. "Or this is only going to be more painful."
I force myself to stop, my limbs still shuddering with pure terror. I feel her grabbing the back of my white shirt and lifting it up, cutting through it in smooth, quick motions. Soon, the cold air tickles my back, and I shiver, my eyes tearing up.
"White? So boring. Not surprising from you Ionians though."
And with two quick slashes of her knife, my back is bared, exposed to elements.
I close my eyes.
This can't be happening. No, none of this is real. Any second now, Zane or Akira or even Fairfax will round the corner and save me. I've done nothing wrong! I made a mistake, but I don't deserve this!
Mira's forefinger enters my vision, the rest of her fingers curled down to her palm. I feel a surge of power coming from her, and a deep red orb of pure fire slowly expands just at the edge of her finger. I can feel the intense heat even though her finger is fairly far away, and the blood on my face starts cracking, already drying.
I panic again, struggling with renewed strength to break free. I claw at the ground and my magic, trying to grab anything. All I get is a handful of mud and pain, and I hear myself letting out whimpering sounds.
"Burning is such an ugly word," Mira says behind me with a dissatisfied huff of air. "I should think of this more as… painting."
I hear the small flaming orb heat up behind me, hissing as it turns the very air around it into steam. A red glare of light floods the ground in front of my eyes, and I quickly squeeze them shut, biting down hard on my blazer. My skin prickles as a sudden heat begins to near it, turning from a slight chill to an uncomfortable swelter.
"Hold her down tight," Mira says, her voice filled with concentration. "This is going to have to be slow to get the symbol perfect and keep her awake for the whole thing. She's going to fight it."
This can't be happening. It can't be, it can't. Please, someone, anyone… please…
I hear loud, purposeful footsteps, and even with my head pushed down sideways into the mud, I manage to see a figure, obscured in shadows but obviously wearing a school uniform of some sort. It's a masculine figure of some sort, and he stops a good distance away, staring.
"What's going on here?" he asks, his barely audible to me.
Hope soars through me, bringing a triumphant sheen of tears to my eyes. I look up to the figure, my lip trembling as I struggle to call out the right words.
There's a sudden presence next to my head, and I hear someone whispering into my ear.
"Do anything but agree with what we say, and I'll kill both of you," Kor whispers.
I choke, my hope faltering.
I hear someone get up and walk through the mud, their shoes appearing in front of me.
"This is a simple beatdown of a coward who broke the rules," I hear Kor say. "None of your business friend. I'd appreciate it if you just moved on."
"A beatdown…" the newcomer trails off. "What did she do exactly?"
"Use magic to win duels," Kor waves, looking unconcerned.
"And just what sort of beatdown is… this?" the figure asks, gesturing at me.
Kor seems to suddenly realize the scene behind him. I lay face down in the mud, completely restrained by Noxians while another holds an small orb of fire above me. Kor looks back, rolling his eyes, and then returns his gaze to the figure.
"A simple one," Kor explains quickly. "See, this Noxian girl scarred my friend's face with fire magic. It even took one of his eyes. So we're just leaving a small brand on her back, so everyone knows what kind of cruel coward she is."
The figure stands still, contemplating, and I feel my breaths stop. It's a clumsy lie at best, filled with obvious holes like the fact a retaliatory beatdown usually only involves one or two people, or the fact that no one here has a burned face, and the one wronged by the target of the beatdown wouldn't miss their revenge for anything. But…
I don't know what to wish for, him to realize truth, or him to accept the lie and move on. If he tried to help me, he could die, but if he doesn't…
"And that's all you're doing?" the newcomer finally asks. "Putting a small mark of a coward on her? Nothing else? Nothing shameful?"
"Of course not," Kor says, placing a hand against his chest. "And if you don't believe me, why, just ask the guardsmen behind you. We've already gotten this cleared with the city guard and everything."
Two more figures step from the shadows, both wearing the customary armor of Noxian guards. I recognize the two immediately, and it only brings more dread. One is Benjamin Conroy, the guard who was beating up Mr. Shu for not giving him an apple, and the other is Tychus Lorry, the one who hit me in the face when I tried to make him pay for a sword.
"That's right," Lorry says, sounding bored. "And because this has already been cleared, I'm going to have to ask you to move on as you don't have permission to be here."
The unknown student turns, and I can feel his gaze on me, staring intently. For a second, I can feel his hesitation and doubt.
Help me. I mouth the two words over and over again. I know he can't see them in the dark, but maybe… maybe…
"Alright," the figure sighs, his voice sounding tired.
The newcomer turns and walks away, and Kor waits until he's out of sight to address Lorry.
"I'm paying the two of you to make sure something like that doesn't happen," Kor growls. "What exactly happened?"
"You better make this quick," Lorry says gruffly, hand tight on his sword pommel. "It was harder than we thought to get here without arousing suspicion. Keeping this area clear won't exactly be easy either."
"Relax," Conroy smirks, eyes glistening at me. "We're getting paid enough. Besides, this wench deserves it. Maybe we'll even get a little fun in after they finish, eh?"
Lorry scoffs, shaking his head and walking back down the alley. Conroy gives me a wink, turning to follow soon after.
"See?" Kor whispers leaning in close to me, his breath slithering on my ear. "No one's going to help you. You're alone now."
And just like that, I'm alone with my tormentors once more. Kor walks back out of my sight, and I feel resumed pressure on my limbs.
"Continue," Kor says. "And don't stop until we're finished."
Beads of sweat form on my back, and I can feel the condensed, miniature sun getting closer to my skin. The sweat starts boiling on my skin, burning me before it turns to steam. My skin itself goes from warm to dehydrated in a second, cracking and then burning, a sheet of agony becoming my only sensation from my back.
My vision turns white when the fire actually touches my back, robbing every sense but that of my body being cooked and burned, patches of skin, flesh, and muscle sizzling into a crisp.
I scream.
I scream, louder than I have ever before. It's a shrill, screeching sound, one that sounds more animal than human. I can feel my throat tearing itself apart as I scream, blood wettening my throat.
I don't know how long I scream before something finally gives out, and the sound of my voice just disappears. I clench my teeth hard, hard enough to make my gums bleed.
The the burning agony doesn't let up, not for a second. The fire consumes, and I can feel my flesh slowly being eaten, parts of me slowly dying. The thing about fire is that it doesn't stop. It keeps growing, the hurts never stops, not until the prey or the fire dies out.
Only one thing can survive when set on fire, and I can feel parts of me disappearing.
An emotion overtakes me that I've never really felt before, not until now. It's not helplessness or pain or fear, although they are all mingled in, especially the helplessness. But no, this isn't helplessness. I remember what that feels like too vividly, etched into my mind the day I was told my father was never coming home. This…
This is something more potent than even that was.
The second that fire touched my back, I realized I wasn't getting away, not this time. No one's going to save me, and even if they did, it's too late now. No miracles, no happy endings. There's no hope left inside me.
Despair. That's what I feel. It's a filling hollowness, reminding me of its presence every second.
The pain and heat become my reality, taking away my vision and sight. I keep trying to scream, ripping the flesh of my own throat more and more, but It's all I can do. My arms and legs are held down, and no amount of clawing or painful spasming gets me free. Every time I think I can finally sink into the scarlet agony, darkness beginning to gently rock me away, it brings itself to a new level, leaving white streaks across my eyes.
I don't know how long it takes. The fire robs me of any sense of time, it's pain bleeding all across my back, stopping me from knowing exactly where or how far Mira is into the mark. All I feel is fire, eating my flesh hungrily as it follows the trail of sin made clear by the Noxian girl.
Minutes, hours years, none of it matters. None of it even exists. Only agony and misery.
The pain doesn't seem to stop so much as I finally begin to see through it. I see the Noxians, standing in front of me, the smell of burnt flesh sharp and putrid in my nose. They all blur together, no matter how hard I try to concentrate, to see through.
"Alright, Kyle," something says. "Release the spell keeping her awake. I'm sure someone will find her sooner or later."
Someone steps in front of me kneeling down, but their face is too blurry for me to make out.
"You're just another Ionian coward, too weak to stand on you own, but too proud to bow down. I can see it, plain as day, and now... everyone else can too."
There's a sudden snap, and I feel myself drifting through shadows
It's not sleep. No, my burning back keeps me awake. It's that middle ground of almost asleep, the place where I drift to. It's not much solace, but I take it. I embrace it
Then a pinprick of pure agony touches my back. It rips me from my almost peaceful state, my eyes squeezing shut tightly. Another one touches somewhere else on my back. It's sharp and accurate, like that of someone sticking needles into me. More pinpricks of agony start stabbing into me, coming faster and faster until my whole back is covered in them.
I groan, forcing my eyes open. They barely respond, twitching slowly upward. With my sight, I begin to focus on the mud in front of me, clearly seeing the symbol Kor drew next to me. I stare at it, bringing my senses back together slowly.
The smell of blood and mud hits me hard, and I cough a few times, choking on the sleeve of my blazer. I struggle, grabbing it with my hand and pulling it out, wheezing for air. The dirt around me seems to be more mud now, and it takes me a second to realize why.
It's raining. The rain falls in light droplets, but there are thousands of them. It's more of a constant mist falling down onto me, mixing blood from my mouth and nose with the mud under me. I can hear a faint and irregular hissing sound, and it slowly dawns on me that the misting rain is turning to steam the second it touches my back.
I move my head to the side, retching onto the ground, my body heaving.
I need to get help…
I need to leave, before the guards come back and hurt me more…
I need…
...to get home.
I push with my hand, pressing it into the mud. My arm shakes from the effort, muscles cramping from being clenched so long. I keep going, though, putting my weight onto my other hand. It's not until I move my shoulders, almost getting to my hands and knees, that my back screams in a new language of torture, the skin and muscles of my back moving when I try to stand.
Exhaustion and misery flood over me, tears falling weakly as I gasp for air. I slowly force myself to ignore the burning flesh being jostled, getting up slowly. My entire body shakes with effort, and I stumble when a wrack of pain hits me. I manage to catch myself on the alley wall.
Good… I can use this… as a guide…
I move, sliding against the alley wall with my left arm, following it until I stumble out onto the streets.
I look around, but nothing is the same. I'm in a foreign world, one I can't make any sense of. It's an empty world, a cold, cruel world.
I turn, facing a direction, and I start walking through the rain.
I just walk, going right down the middle of the road. Each step is a struggling stumble, and I fall to my knees more than once. Somehow, I manage to get up each time, stumbling forward once again.
Agony, despair, fear, horror, hollow, cold, these things are my world, accented only by the constant pattering of the misting rain around me.
I find myself standing in front of a house, and I blink, relief and nostalgia flooding through me as I recognize it as my own. I stammer forward towards the front door, tears mingling with the rain. I get about halfway there before I find myself slowing down, faltering as my joy turns to dread.
How can I possibly face my family now?
I stand a few feet away from the door, my clothes soaked through and white shirt torn, hanging from my shoulders. My back lies completely exposed, a mark, a scar constantly staring out, showing my mistakes and failures.
Guilt and shame flood into me, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I begin sobbing. No sound comes out, no matter how hard I push my throat muscles, and no matter how hard I try, the guilt and shame only grow.
I feel my consciousness beginning to slip, giving into the everything eating away at me. Something inside me makes me step forward though, one step after another, until I'm finally at the door. I lean my head against it, building my courage, will, and energy for one final push.
I hear voices inside.
"...looked everywhere," a panicked voice, the voice of Zane, my brother, shouts. "The school, her friends house-"
"What about the routes she takes home?" A voice interjects with an authority that could only belong to Captain Fairfax.
"I traced the common ones," a choked voice, Akira's, responds. "But we always take different ones back, just in case…"
"Guard reports?" The captain barks.
"No sightings," I hear the vice-captain, Sevran, say, his tone dark. "But something doesn't feel right."
"Who was on duty tonight?" Captain Fairfax asks.
"Does it matter? It's not like we can trust any of them."
"Captain," A firm but soft voice says suddenly, and I feel my heart melt.
Mom.
"Find my daughter," she says. "Whatever it takes."
Another silent sob shudders through me, blood warm on the back of my throat.
How am I supposed to face them?
My vision falters as I hug myself, trying to shake away the guilt, the shame, but it only gets stronger until it smolders through me, just like my back.
I reach slowly with a shaking hand, something compelling me to open the door anyway. Maybe it's the thought they can somehow make this right, take away my pain. I know they can't, that no one can, but I turn the handle anyway, pushing the door open slightly.
I stand in the misting rain as the gently light of home floods over me, the shapes of Akira, Zane, Mom, Captain Fairfax, and Vice-captain Sevran. I can see them looking at me in shock, taking in my bloody face and soaked clothes, my once nice shirt torn and transparent.
I stumble a few steps in before I fall to my knees and then to the ground.
Something vaguely resembling footsteps rush towards me, but I already feel myself slowly slipping away.
"This can't-"
"Her back-"
"Stay with me baby, stay with me-"
"Get the doctor!"
"Which on-"
"All of them!"
Footsteps rush out, the slight sensation of someone grabbing my arm and holding my hand. Their skin is warm, but still not as hot as my back. It's a nice warmth, though, not the searing agony constantly burned into me.
A guttural scream of rage and confusion echoes out, slowly fading to seething, visceral panting.
"I'll kill them," Zane whispers, my hand being squeezed tighter. "All of them. I promise…"
"Not again," I hear Akira whisper, his voice choked tears. "Please not again… Don't do this to me, Aria…"
"It's alright baby," Mom whispers, her shaky hands brushing my hair and cheek. "It's going to be alright. Just keep breathing. That's it, come on baby…"
I try to stay awake, but a smothering exhaustion washes through me, and I let myself drown in its blissful nothingness.
"Your origin. Where it all began. Remember…"
I open my eyes.
I'm back from the memory-dream, staring up at the ceiling in my room. My body aches, bruises awakening with me. My cheeks are warm and wet, my eyes tired. My back throbs with pain, like it has a thousand times since that day. It itches, tingles, and aches to it's own will, always threatening to remind me.
I slowly get out of bed, walking to the little desk. I stare at the remaining vials of medicine, my heart slow and steady.
I reach out, grabbing the first one, popping it open and drinking it.
Warmth washes through my bones, but it doesn't let me forget.
I set it down, picking up another in it's place, and I drink that one too.
How could I forget? It's always behind me, just waiting for one glimpse in the mirror…
I grab a third, chugging this one faster.
Every time I changed my clothes, choosing what I had to wear, always considering if there was even a chance it would show… never wearing anything that bared a hint of my back…
I pick up the fourth and final vial. I savor the taste of this one, letting the medicine soak into me.
Then I walk back to my bed, pulling the covers tightly around me.
I could think about a thousand things, like why I'm having these memory-dreams, why they are only about that event, the words that whisper to me in them, or even the odd feeling that every single one has had something in it that didn't happen, that was off or not quite correct.
Thankfully, the medicine seems to guide me back to sleep quickly, taking away the memories, the anxiety, the ever present shame, and any thought about tomorrow.
The serenity of sleep takes over, and I welcome it even as tears continue dripping from my eyes.