I open my eyes slowly. It hurts to open them. Everywhere hurts badly. I quickly shut them back as I see bright light.
That Fernandez and his bloody concuction is going to pay.
I try getting up. A soft hand restrains me gently. Am I dreaming? Is it Arya?
"You should rest. Don’t exert yourself, my lord".
Okay, that is definitely not Arya’s voice. Time apart has somewhat softened my memory of her. She has never been the gentle, affectionate type.
My lord? The last thing I need is psychic games right now. My brain is struggling to grasp everything that is happening as it is already.
A cool cloth settles on my forehead and I gasp in relief.
Its almost as if she is smoothing away my headache with her gentle touch. I slowly open my eyes. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore. I catch a glimpse of red hair and a blue uniform. Navy?
Aw, man! Was I turned in?
No, that can’t be. If this is a prison, no sane man would want to leave. I lift my head slowly. She immediately urges me to lie back down. Before I do, I get a better glimpse of my surroundings and my attendant.
Sweet mother of...look at those boobs. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.
Its a well furnished room with a bedside table, a nice reading cubicle, a dresser, bookshelf, a centre rug and a mini sort of chandelier.
Its way too customized to be a hotel suite and way too fancy to be a prison cell or a hospital room.
"You’re finally awake, sleepyhead". A familiar voice calls from the doorway.
The woman taking care of me leans forward and touches my forehead with her palms. As she bends forward, her cleavage is exposed to my view. Her brown hair tickles my nose and face as she leans over me.
She nods at the person at the door and leaves.
He comes into view and I stare at him silently.
"You look so cute when you’re helpless". He says and clasps his hands together in a girlish gesture of excitement.
"I can’t get the image of how you fainted out of my head. You looked like the hounds had cornered you, yet you wanted to fight down to the last drop of your blood".
I ignore his comment.
"Where is Fernandez?"
"He’s fine, just a bit sad that he did not get the double he desperately wanted. I kinda feel bad for him. He really did get us into the school".
My brain short-circuits for a brief second. Is this the school? Were we successful?
"Yes. The answer to the question you are about to ask is yes. This is the school. Rupert’s Academy of Sorcery. I should warn you, we are six to seven years older than the first year students. They admit only eighteen and above, so at least, we don’t have to deal with children. It turns out, that that gross concuction he gave us to drink awakened the Mana in both of us. The school immediately sent us admission letters. Before you ask, they have a scout system that searches for eligible students within their respective jurisdictions. They probably use some Mana- tracking mechanism." Pause.
"Well...not immediately, it took two days. I was out for two days, you have been out for four. They also sent a courrier system to convey us down to the school premises. Lucky for us, we don’t share a room. Your roommate is one spiky- haired daredevil in his second year. And in case you’re wondering, the school is located on an island in the middle of nowhere. This island if off the maps and is covered by a cloaking spell and a dome-like forcefield. No one goes out or comes in without the board’s expressed welcome, and no one, not even the students’s know the way to this island. The courriers convey the students here after putting them to sleep. I know that look...you are wondering how I know all this, right? I’ve made a few talkative friends. Which is what you should be doing as soon as you get out of that bed. Stop acting like a brooding widower, that seems to put everyone off, including me...at times. Did I miss anything...no, I guess not". Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by Nov3lFɪre.ɴet
I blink as I take it all in.
"Gosh, you talk so much".
"Not usually. You’re a bad influence on me".
"Screening sessions begin at dawn tomorrow."
"So where is Fernandez?"
"How the heck am I supposed to know? You should focus more on the test you have tomorrow".
"Has any powers awakened in you?" I ask.
"I think so. I’m better with the ladies".
I want to throttle him.
"Can’t you be serious for once?"
"For the record, I was-"
He breaks off and throws his dagger at the wall.
I am about to reproach him about damaging the school’s property when a figure starts appearing slowly, one body part after another.
The dagger had pinned the person’s hand to the wall. Blood is oozing out and dripping lazily to the polished floor.
I sit up. The person is wearing a hoody, but the body shape is that of a woman.
"State your mission".
Furuno is obviously enjoying the torment he is imposing on the woman.
She says nothing. She keeps writhing in pain and twisting her hand in agony.
His aim was so precise. How the heck did he do that when he could not see her? He made it look like scoring the highest point on a dart board.
"State your mission here, or this time, I’ll aim for your heart".
Terror suddenly clouds her features. Her cloaking spell has completely worn off. A spell like that can serve me well when fighting those monsters. Maybe, we made the right decision by coming here.
"I was sent to spy on you!" She blurts as a tear escapes her eye. "Please...let me go".
"Not until you tell me who sent you". Furuno says and stalks toward her slowly.
"If I tell you...I’d die. My lips have been sealed".
"We’ll just have to unseal them with another dagger to your other hand, right?"
He grazes the blade over his palm and runs it along the side of her neck, down to her breast and along her free arm.
"Please...don’t hurt me."
He holds her free hand against the wall and holds the dagger against it.
"Say the words I want to hear and I would spare your life".
"The Dean of Dark Arts department!" She blurts out.
"Leave her alone already". I say.
"Swear to me dammit!"
All colour has drained from her face. She looks like she is about to faint.
"I swear on my life". She says and collapses against him.
"Is she dead?" I ask briskly.
Furuno feels for her pulse.
"No." Then he adds as an afterthought, "Not yet".
He pulls the dagger out of her hand and carries her in his arms.
"Where are you taking her?" I ask.
"Nowhere. I am going to keep her on your roommate’s bed until she wakes up".
He tears a part of the bed sheet and rolls a strip of bandage.
He runs his hand over the gash in her palm and his hand starts glowing. The wound starts closing up until only an angry red scar is left. He bandages it carefully and places the hand at her side.
So, he had healing powers? Cool, but I don’t really see how useful that would be for fighting the beasts.
"It seems that the board is already suspicious of us".
"What the heck are we supposed to do?"