The man was watching me with a polite smile on his face. I now felt safe in his presence, as if he were not a stranger, as if I had not just met him. It was a feeling that I could not control, nor could I explain.
“What was in the soup, the filter of sympathy?” I asked. I wrapped the blanket tightly around me, clasped my hands in front of my chest and sat cross-legged. “Now we can talk.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I was looking forward to it.”
His blue eyes exuded sweetness, but they also gave away that his life had not been easy. The black clothes added a rocker’s touch to his look.
With serene movements, he stood up from his chair and moved close to me.
“I suggest that we do not stay here. This room is very cold. Allow me to convey to you a warmer room.”
“Convey? Okay.”
I did not expect what followed. The man grabbed me abruptly in his arms and in a flash, he took me back to the library and placed me onto the leather sofa in front of the fireplace.
“Um... What just happened?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.
A feeling of serenity flooded my heart, as if I were in my mother’s arms. If I ever had one. My muscles relaxed and my body sank deeper into the old-fashioned leather sofa.
“Don’t you know how dangerous it is to wander in the woods at night?” A playful smile formed on his thin lips.
“How did you do that? I mean, how did you move so fast?” I asked.
“Well, sometimes I do move fast, but sometimes I cannot.”
The man’s face darkened. A wave of cold air flooded the room and I wrapped the emerald blanket around my body tighter.
“I am sorry, I do not follow,” I said with a knot in my throat.
“I mean that one day I can speed up time, the other I cannot. One day I can pass through objects, the other I cannot. One day I am a speedster, the other I am not. And so on.”
“So, you have many super-powers. Or should I rather call them gifts?”
“You can call whatever you like. The fact is that I do not really know if I possess any special ability. And if I do possess one, I do not know how to maintain it and use it for more than a couple of minutes.”
He turned his face toward the fireplace and the reflection of the flames glowed in his eyes. As a shiver chased itself up my back, I perched on the couch. I was not sure I wanted his company anymore. Out of the corner of my eyes, I examined the room, only to confirm what I already knew. There was no way out.
Silence prevailed in the dark room. I tucked my body into the warm blanket and avoided lifting my eyes to the man, who was still standing with his gaze nailed to the flames of the fireplace. The icy silence was broken by an old cuckoo clock located across the room, which crowed five times.
Emerging sharply from his thoughts, the man walked towards me. His abrupt movement made me curl up with fear.
“First, let me introduce myself. It was an omission on my part that I failed to do so earlier. My name is Arthur Tyrrell,” he said and bowed slightly.
The flickering firelight shone on his beautiful features, his long straight nose, almond eyes, and thin lips.
“I am Gwen.”
“Forgive me, I did not ask you, is warm enough for you in here?” he asked.
My heart filled at once with warmth, like the fireplace had expelled the cold feeling I had since I awoke in my new bedroom.
“It is okay.” I nodded but remained perched in the corner of the couch. “To be honest I feel like I am in the middle of a dream. I cannot believe that this is real.”
“I cannot blame you. I felt shocked when I first got here too. It is been three years since then and I am still not convinced that I belong here.”
His voice sounded sweet, like an old familiar lullaby. “What is your gift, Gwen?” he asked with a kind tone to his voice.
“I am a time hopper.”
“Like Morgan. Have you met Morgan? She is one of the most talented time hopers of all time.”
I grinned. He sounded too excited about that Morgan’s achievements.
The old cuckoo clock located across the room crowed six times.
“It is time to get ready for the morning classes,” he said. “If you excuse me, I have to get back to my room and change clothes. Gwen, it is a pleasure to have you here.”
I nodded and I watched him as he moved across the library room until he was lost into the shadows.
“This place has started getting interesting,” I muttered as I walked fast to get back to my room.
CHAPTER 7
*
“Despite the common belief, black roses do exist. You might have seen them growing in our courtyard. Our ancestors were those who planted the first seeds, seeds they brought from their trips to Tibet centuries ago,” Goimar Flaura, our Professor of Magical Flowers and Plants said.
That first lesson in the Avallon Academy was not exactly as thrilling as I had expected. “What a yawn,” I thought as I tried to keep my eyelids open. The lesson was beyond boring, however Mr. Falura with his lime-green hair, pink bowtie, and his fuchsia dotted skirt (yes, skirt!) was atoningly colorful.
“In the flower language, the black rose is the symbol of hatred and death. However, the language of flowers, established in the 19th century, ignores the true symbolism of the black rose, the symbolism that was given by the first alchemists: revitalization, renewal, and regeneration.”
I could not figure out why but Professor Flaura reminded me of a fancy birthday cake.
Oh, how much I yearned for a hot cup of tea with a slice of red velvet cake.
“What’s all this crap? I just want a burger and a shake!”
A young man’s voice echoed loudly in my mind. I almost left a cry out, but I managed to stop myself from expressing my distress.
I stood still and patient, as if I had not listened to the words that had been formed in my mind by a voice that did not belong to me. Instead, I played nervously with the pencil in my hands.
“I am starving, too,” the male voice talked into my mind.
I looked around nervously and I saw a young boy smiling at me.
“You are so cute,” he continued.
“You are so cute yourself, but I don’t date,” I told him telepathically. I didn’t even know that I could do that. Apparently, telepathy was not my gift, but since a telepathic had invaded my mind, I could answer him back with my own thoughts.
I almost choked as I sensed him caressing my curves with his eyes while his thoughts were mostly concentrated on how he could ask me out.
“Where are you from?” The guy continued. He was younger than me and his ways did not impress me at all.
“I am from Mars, the planet,” I replied, enjoying his confusion. The look on his face gave away that he thought I was telling the truth. “On Mars, we used to have humans en croute for starters.” I tried to keep a serious face on as I realized that I had given him the shock of his life.
I kind of enjoyed the direction the conversation had taken. I did not enjoy anyone reading my mind though. Moreover, I was never good with men calling my butt “perky and round”, even if they had kept their thought for themselves.
I strengthened my tight black-purple mini skirt and turned my look at Professor Flaura again. The Academy uniform looked good on me and it made me feel quite confident.
“Gwen?”
A male voice echoed in my mind. Another intruder?
“Gwen!”
The voice insisted. I turned around, and then I saw the man.
He was sitting at a desk close to the classroom door, dressed in a black-purple leather jacket and worn-out jeans. He looked gorgeous with his brown unruly hair and three-days beard.
“Hello, handsome,” I almost let slip out. I forced myself to behave and instead I put on my most beautiful smile and I playfully batted my eyelashes. Nothing bad with flirting with a good-looking guy, however, I had decided that I would not cross the red line and date one while in the Academy.
And then I froze. Something was wrong with him. Not with his appearance, nothing was wrong with it, he was like the incarnation of Loki. Something was wrong with him inside. It was like there was nothing below his perfect appearance, like there was nothing inside of him; like he had no soul.
“How can that be? Everyone has a soul,” was my first thought, naïve and ignorant as I was. In my 18 years of life, I had not met yet a single living person with no heartbeat.
“Are you alright?” he asked, and I hoped he had not read my thoughts about him.
“Oh, yes,” I mumbled as if I had just gotten out of bed.
A shiver went down my spine. His thoughts felt cold as charity, but what freaked me out the most was that I felt no sentiment, no feeling being transferred to me through his thoughts.
That was freaking weird. How could that be possible? I fixed him with a stare trying to delve into his mind. I could not.
“You are so delicious. I am going to take you home and have lunch with you,” he said telepathically.
“That is never going to happen!” I cried out and I rushed to cover my mouth with my hand, thunderstruck and embarrassed for the words that slipped out of my mouth.
“What did you just say?” Professor Flaura fixed me with his gaze, surprised by my behavior.
“I’m going to feast with your sweet blood tonight and I’m going to drain you out until the last drop.”
Terrified, I drew my chair back and stood up. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor made him turn his head and stop signaling his thoughts to me.
Much to my relief, a student that was sitting at the desk in the back of the classroom was now walking toward us. Arthur’s blue eyes flashed with anger and he had his fist clenched beside his body when he came to stand by my side.
“Is everything alright, Gwen?” Arthur asked and gave the bully a stiff once over.
“I hope so,” I replied after a moment of hesitation. “Where did you come from?”
“None of your business” the weirdo retorted as he sank deeper in his chair.
“Oh, yes, it is,” Arthur smirked. “In fact, we all must leave the classroom now. There is a gas leak and we must evacuate immediately. There is an extremely high danger of explosion and fire. You don’t want to get grilled, do you?”
“Is that true? Are we really in danger?” I wondered, trying not to give away my puzzlement.
My hands started shaking with terror and my heart raced wildly. I shivered as I got a closer look at the other man. His dark brown eyes flashed with anger under his furrowed brow, and I could clearly see a throbbing vein in his neck which made me feel even more insecure and perplexed about the situation I had unwillingly found myself in. That guy scared the heck out of me.
I was afraid. No, not just afraid. I was terrified and all I wanted was to get the heck out of there and get back home. I knew that was impossible and that made me panic even more.
“I’ve been here for less than a day and this place is freaking me out!”
The young student who I had fun with a few minutes before ran out of the classroom, freaked out of fear of the supposedly gas leak. Professor Flaura and the rest of the class followed him. I could not blame them.
“You need to leave this place,” Arthur said to the black-haired man.
“Okay,” the man responded after a few seconds silence, “I’m leaving. That does not mean I won’t have what I want,” he said as he stood up on his feet and walked toward the exit. Right before he got out, he turned around and stared at me in a way that made me feel chilled to the bone.
“You’ll be mine before dawn cracks,” I heard him saying into my mind.
Horrified by the unspoken threat, I did not realize that I had grabbed Arthur’s arm, squeezing it fiercely. It was that touch that opened the door to his soul to me.
It was like my touch had penetrated the soft fabric of his purple-black suit and had reached the depths of his heart. What appeared to be cold was, in fact, radiating warmth and caring. I was still holding his left arm in a tight grip when he slipped his right arm protectively around my shoulder. Suddenly, a stream of spinning images filled in my mind and my heart raced frantically as the images carried a blast of sentiments in me. Pictures of men, women, and children, some of them dressed in modern clothes, others in garments that resembled old paintings of past centuries, whirled in my mind. Anger, terror, happiness, grief; all kind of emotions whipped my soul simultaneously.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t let him hurt you,” he whispered in my head.
Panic-stricken by the uncontrollable flow of memories of lives that I had never lived and emotions that I had not personally felt, I pushed his hand away from me.
“No, thank you! I do not need your help,” I yelled. Then, I turned my back to him, walking away toward the exit.
“I cannot leave you alone,” he shouted at me as I rushed into the corridor that was swarmed by students and professors fleeing away.
With shaking hands, I straighten my tight skirt and removed a curl from my forehead. I was not only scared to death, but I had also lost a part of my naïveté. Nothing would be the same again. And I was going to learn that the hard way.
CHAPTER 8
*
After I thanked Allen, the Academy barista, I left the appropriate tip on the coffee bar table, grabbed the hot paper cup with my latte, and left the quiet small café that was located in the basement of the building.
That place was a pleasure to discover. It was not a typical school building. Except for the classrooms and the small cafeteria, there was a huge dining room, an old-fashioned ballroom, a three-story library, an impressive gallery of artifacts, and many more rooms and chambers that I had not discovered yet.
I got to a swirling staircase of black marble and I started climbing up to the floor where my room was located.
“I feel so tired,” I muttered while I was walking fast, as fast as I could. The black-purple tight mini skirt I had to wear as part of my Academy uniform was giving me a hard time. It was that tight, and my black flats could not compare to the comfortable sneakers I used to wear during my past long walks.
It had been one heck of a day. My first day at Avallon Academy. It was a day full of excitement, emotions of happiness and fear, unique experiences. My life had always had its hardships, but I loved the turn it had taken with my enrolment in the Academy.
“I love my life here,” I said out loud, making a passerby turn and look at me. But I didn’t care. Everything felt perfect, except that nutcase who threatened to drink my blood till the last drop.
“And I thought he was handsome! Appearances are deceptive indeed. People can be perverts even if it does not show.”
I was convinced that it was the case of a vampire-obsessed wacko with a fetish for drinking blood.
I recalled this morning’s event. I had never felt so frightened in my life. I was scared to death not only because of the absurd threats that man spat out but also by the coldness of his heart and the dark abyss I met when I saw into his eyes.
It was not only the handsome pervert who gave me the heebie-jeebies, it was my “rescuer”, too. Arthur’s interference made me feel safer for a moment, but when he touched my shoulder, an unprecedented stream of memories of a life I had never lived flooded my mind and gave me a vivid feeling of emotional suffocation. And like the evening was not going crazy enough, he called for the place to be evacuated, without apparent reason. The whole gas-leak incident had been a farce.
“What a weirdo!”
He was cute though. Okay, maybe more than cute. He was handsome. However, something about him was putting me off. He did not even know what his special gift was. Last night he was a speedster, this morning was a telepath.
“Holy crap!”
I cursed when I turned right into my floor’s corridor and I almost stepped over him. He was standing there, hands on his waist, looking around like he was searching something he had dropped down on the floor.
/>
“Jeez, man!” I yelled.
“Arthur, actually.”
Son of a gun, he was laughing. He was standing there, with his blue eyes, his messy ice blond hair, his broad shoulders, and his small waist... Did I mention he had broad shoulders?
“I was waiting for you,” he added.
“Why?” I raised an eyebrow and walked in, throwing glances around the empty corridor. What was Arthur doing here? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer to that question.
“There has been a murder...”
“A murder? What are you talking about? Oh, my Gosh! Where is Leon? Where are Terry and Lara? Are they okay?” I asked and almost collapsed at the thought that one of my new friends could have been hurt.
“Calm down. None of your friends are hurt. The remains of a dead body were found nearby, and the Board of Wizards assumed that they belonged to one of the students,” Arthur explained calmly.
“Found dead? Where? In the Academy?”
“The corpse was found near the lakeshores. There are indications suggesting that the victim was a man,” Arthur said.
“Lakeshores? Are we close to a lake?”
“We are in the middle of a lake.” I managed to see a smirk on his face before he slightly bowed his head.
Still with the now lukewarm latte in my hand, I was standing by the entrance, staring at him puzzled, trying to understand what was going on.
“Are we on an island?” I managed to mutter.
“Sure, we are. I thought you already knew.”
“I have no idea where exactly we are. Merlin fetched me here through a portal and before that, Mordred had locked me in a prison cell only God knows where.”
The Cursed Sword (Avallon Academy Book 1) Page 4