Emotionless (The Emotionless Book 1)

by Shaina Anastasi

  Lawliet hissed a breath from beside me, suddenly realising what letter I was about to write. If I could have any sort of movement, I would also be trembling with fear as I wrote.

  My name is Eileen Frost, and I am the heir to the Frost family, destined to be the ruler of Organisation when I become of age. I hereby demand to have my voice heard once and for all and to claim back what has been stripped from me when I was eleven years old. Bring me to Organisation and make me a candidate like every other Highborn mage.

  If I do not hear back by the end of this year, I will come to you personally, without an invitation, but perhaps before I do that, I shall leak private, confidential information I know about you all. Don’t try and deny the fact that I do not know anything and am lying, we have truth potions to tell.

  Thank you for reading kind regards, Eileen Frost.

  I then pricked my finger until a speck of blood blobbed out and then pressed it against the paper until a fingerprint marked down the bottom, besides my name. I then folded the paper up, slid it inside of the envelope and then placed it in my bag. I will give it to the tweet bird. As much as I dislike the tweet bird, it was good with not being distracted delivering mail that I have sent. He’s just too noisy so early in the morning.

  “That was assertive of you,” Lawliet said from beside me. He had one brow cocked up and his lips pressed inward.

  “I have to be with Organisation, or they would ignore my attempt to speak to them personally,” I admitted. “I don’t like bribery, or using force for that matter…”

  “Really?” Lawliet scoffed. “Did you happen to forget the fact that our second encounter, you demanded me to give you my boot and wasn’t going to leave until you had it within your grasp.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. But that wasn’t me being assertive or bribery.”

  “What would you call that, then?”

  “Me really wanting your boot,” I answered, puffing my cheeks.

  Lawliet leaned back in his seat and groaned. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Put me in your pocket?”

  “I don’t have a shrinking potion.”

  “I can steal one from my brothers.”

  Lawliet gave me a deadpan look on his face. “Alarm bells go off in my head whenever you talk. Should I start taking them more seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  The bell for the end of Recess sung out. I stood from my chair and wanted to do nothing more but sigh loudly, saddened that my time with Lawliet Clarintine has come to an end. But, when I went to leave, I felt warmth wrap around my shoulders and back, pressing against me in a comforting, reassuring kind of way. Desire to stay in the warmth crept up, and my hands touched Lawliet’s arms that held me within this cage.

  “I will see you this evening,” he breathed within my ear, tickling heat brushing against my lobe. That heat then crawled its way up to my face, and I had to break away from him and get some fresh, cold air. “Have a good day,” he chuckled when I made my way to the door.

  My mouth was filled with cotton. Unable to speak at all, I nodded when I got to the door and then ducked out and to my class.

  Rune specialist class – like always – went too fast for my liking. Spencer was easy to talk to and be around. Also, in this class, it was hard for Rebecca to make snide comments and remarks when Spencer was present. She must fear that he is Headmage’s son. He is also captain of our year, which does frankly mean something in this Academy. Unlike the school that I went to, where the captain was more for their ego to be boosted rather than be an example of that year and provide help when needed.

  After the Rune specialist class, everything went slow, and I guess it was because I was growing giddy with anticipation for tonight. I ate minimal food at lunch and mainly listened to the gossip Charlie was spewing from beside me. Donte and Nixon ended up skipping standard potions class and went straight ahead to the master’s class, which didn’t surprise them at all. Donte and Nixon would have been offended if they didn’t go up to master’s class and instead, went to standard – like what usually happens.

  Then, the horror arrived for me in the sports class. For a split second I contemplated walking outside, in the bitingly cold. Freezing to death would be better than this. I decided it would have been, for undressing and wearing much more revealing things that could show skin that someone could exploit in an article wasn’t what I wanted right now. Luckily, Spencer gave me a free pass – probably because of the conversation I overheard this morning – to sit on the bench, against the wall, near the girls' change rooms, that overlooked the heated, indoor swimming pool.

  They played like they had done outside and in the snow. However, now, it felt a little more intimate: wrestling in the water, tackling each other and throwing inflatable volleyballs, slippery hands on one another. I had to look away, envious at the laugh-lines that creased along their faces, and the echoes of squealing and laughter that filled the room.

  This was my torment.

  The door burst open when classes finally finished. Inside the comfort of my own home, I side-stepped when Donte and Nixon – still damp from swimming – shook their heads, and smelled of chlorine. They both ran towards the bedroom, talking about how they needed to inspect the pool water they had in their little bottles.

  Weary, I went to go into my room, but an intoxicating aroma filled my nose and made me salivate. Hopper was behind the bench, at the stovetop, cooking scrambled dragon eggs. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever taste these delicious eggs again.

  I slid onto the seat at the bench and placed my hands on my lap and looked – I hope with a glimmer in my eyes, but I doubt that – at the food, waiting to fill me with joy.

  “My mistress, how was your day today?” Hopper asked while he scooped the eggs, along with pressed, spaghetti toasties, and vegetables – which I may ignore – onto the plate before me.

  I paused before I ate, wondering what to tell Hopper. Many instances came to mind. Usually, I ignore any attempt to talking of my day because they weren’t good days, but today seemed better.

  “The counsellor is nice,” I murmured. Hopper’s grin went ear to ear. “She told me that you provided information about me liking sweets.” That grin immediately faltered.

  “My Mistress…” he began stammering on his words, trying to explain why he needed to provide such information. “The Academy wanted to know about eating habits, and I cannot lie to the Headmage, or on paper when –”

  “Hopper, it is okay,” I interrupted, knowing very well that this stress bunny would have stood in a puddle of his sweat, blue in the face, if that helped.

  “I went up in a few of my classes today as well. At the end of this semester, I will be in standard.” I decided to steer the conversation away before Hopper turns into a nervous wreck.

  “Oh!” He immediately perked up. “That is wonderful news!”

  “That’s why you bought the dragon eggs, isn’t it?” I then asked.

  Hopper smiled mysteriously. “I don’t know what you are talking about, my mistress.”

  “Thank you,” I then murmured, heat climbing up along my cheeks and neck as I spoke.

  I then ate in silence, both of us enjoying each other’s company. Silas came home not long after. Dark circles under his eyes, hair that was gelled back a mess, light brown pieces struck up like he stepped outside and into the billowing wind that is, in fact, non-existent right now. So, my only guess would be that my older brother had a really horrid day at work today.

  He – in a zombified state – dragged his feet across the stone ground and into his bedroom. About thirty seconds later, Silas came out, rejuvenated and angered: narrowed, wild, silver eyes and lines along his furrowed forehead. He slammed his fist against the bathroom door and seethed.

  “Don’t touch my things!” He shouted. Hopper decided to go over to Silas in the hopes that he could diffuse the situation before Silas humiliates himself because Done and Nixon are diabolical.

  “Ma
ster, whatever crystals they have stolen I will replace.”

  “Where is my facial cream?”

  “Oh…” Hopper trailed off.

  At this point in time, I wished I could laugh. Even I didn’t know that this was all over him having no facial cream.

  The door opened the slightest and steam slipped through the crack. A hand appeared through the thick steam and Silas snatched the bottle and stormed back towards his room.

  “This is very hard to gain facial cream. There are crystal beads inside of this cream that is from the oceanic, mystic sand on dolphin island, where no mage wants to swim and extract them, and so I risk my life for beautiful skin, morons!”

  I blinked when Silas slammed the door from behind him.

  My brother is… strange.

  Inside of the bedroom, I changed out of my school uniform and slid on a pair of tight, black leggings, fluffy, rainbow socks, white singlet and a long-sleeved, knitted jumper over the top. Hair now in a messy bun, I went over to the window, and unlatched the lock and pulled until the windows opened.

  The sun is starting to set. Up at the top of the tower, there was a perfect view of everything. Colours mixed together strikingly: fiery orange, pink, red with a very light shade of blue that was about to fade into nothing within a few more minutes. The sun lowered and glistened across the thick layer of ice along the ocean, sparkling like glimmering diamonds.

  When it nears sunset, this was the only time of day where the sun decides to peak in winter, filled with snow. The clouds thin, and when the sun sets, a crisp, frigid night will overcome, where all I would want to do is curl up in mountains of blankets, soaking up the warmth.

  While I waited for Lawliet to arrive, I designed my take of a teleportation rune, similar to the one that I was learning in my Rune Specialist class. I was nearly done with the components when a shadow moved across, over the moon, blocking the light that shined on the paper that I was drawing on.

  “Hey,” Lawliet breathed.

  He looked sickly pale in this light. Shadows covered his face, dark and ominously. Lawliet lowered his hand down to me, palm up, waiting for me to take hold.

  “I thought we are staying in.”

  “I want to show you something.”

  Hesitant at first, I thought of being stubborn and resisting, but the liquid gold look in his eyes made my heart flutter and move forward. Our hands touched, warmth tingled against fingertips as he lifted me up, onto the windowsill. He then stepped off first, gracefully, and onto the ladder. Still, our hands together, I stepped towards Lawliet, and he kept a firm hold of me. I then went up first.

  I wanted to apologise for how achingly slow I am, getting to places. I still couldn’t climb fast enough, even climbing in this frigid and cold weather, where the snow bit into my cheeks. However, Lawliet hasn’t complained once at my pace of walking and now, climbing.

  Inside of the tower, I stilled at someone already there, on the other side, leaning against the stone and along the open, windowless window. Purple shined atop of his head, and neon purple eyes glowed in the darkness. His grin widened once he noticed me.

  “Hello, Eileen Frost,” he spoke, his voice like velvet.

  “Good evening, Darius.” I think it was his name. His smile widened, which made me confirm that I must have been correct.

  Lawliet came up after me and stood at my side. He grimaced at the sight of his own brother. “Little brother, you asked for me to come. Why?”

  Lawliet turned to me. Looking away from Darius and those violet eyes, mine then connected to gold. “I thought it would be better for you to ask in person, in case you wanted more specifics, rather than me ask one simple question only to tell you the answer that could lead to more confusion and more answers.”

  “Oh. Thank you, Lawliet.”

  I then turned to Darius that straightened up, standing taller than Lawliet himself, which was intimidating.

  “That night, five years ago, at graduation, did you see anything?” I asked.

  “I saw a lot of things: ashen bodies, charred bodies, screaming and wailing mages from left to right.

  “In the tower.” I was trying to be specific, but a lump began to form in my throat, as I remembered the horrific scenes that unfolded. Mr Umar cast down by Timothy, and Blossom being nothing but pink dust underneath Mr Umar. So many lives were lost all because the two mages in A Mages War decided to fight in a populated place, at an Academy school that was filled with defenceless and powerless mages.

  I blinked out of my head and at Darius that was waiting for me to go on.

  “In the tower,” I started again. “Did you see another Guardian, golden in colour, perhaps, inside with us?”

  “Not particularly.” Darius pursed his lips. “I saw golden light shine heavenly inside of the tower, but by the time that I entered, my master was dead, and you were unconscious on the ground.”

  “What does heavenly mean?”

  “Whatever you summoned; it came from light.”

  “An Angel, perhaps,” Lawliet chimed in.

  “Perhaps. When I entered, there was warmth, but not the warmth of summer and heat, this warmth was magical and light, like basking in the sun, flying in the sky, type of warmth.”

  “Interesting,” I murmured. I touched the black gem on the back of my hand and wondered if perhaps I did summon a type of angel that wasn’t in the summoning books.

  “Was that all?”

  “That’s all. Once I saw my master dead, I was unbound, and so I flew off, not bound by the mage world anymore to care to stay.”

  “You left Eileen up there?” Lawliet growled.

  “She was not my problem; besides, someone must have brought her down safely, considering she is here now, no damage.” He then darted a lookup and at my forehead. “Besides one.”

  Uncomfortable by his gaze, I tried manoeuvring my hair around so that it was hard to see the curse mark that plagues me. It didn’t matter, those violet eyes could more than likely see more than an average mage.

  “Anything else that you want to ask me?”

  “One,” I murmured. “Was Timothy a good… a good mage?”

  It has been on my mind since that incident where I found out my Guardian killed Timothy. I began to wonder, searching for answers on Speggle in the hopes that I found something terrible about him or his family. I wanted my Guardian’s reason for killing Timothy to be justified – but all I got was a brick wall of awards, medals and praise from teachers, students and friends. So much that I wanted to throw my phone across the room, filled with anger and rage – but that would show a lot of emotion, wouldn’t it?

  “He was,” Darius agreed, and suddenly, my heart sunk lower. “To other mages,” he then finished. “To Guardian’s, we were nothing but a bug underneath a mages boot. Ridiculed, tormented, tortured, the vicious cycle he made me apart of towards household Guardian’s still taints me to this day. Not a night goes by where I close my eyes and don’t see the faces of all the Guardian’s Timothy has tortured. What your Guardian had done, Timothy deserved much worse. If he didn’t die, Guardian’s now would have less freedom than what we already have once we are claimed if he won and was granted his wish.”

  His words left a bad taste in my mouth. What he said should make me feel better, but it makes me feel worse and sick to hear that Timothy mistreated Guardian’s, like they were…

  “Nothing but slaves to them,” they breathed in my ear. I looked behind me, to the darkness of night, with hints of silver moonlight shining into the window that Lawliet and I entered.

  “Was that what you wanted to hear?” Darius asked.

  “No.” I turned back around and at Darius. Those violet eyes darkened into deep, dark purple pools of liquid.

  “Well, it is the truth.” He nudged his head towards Lawliet, who then inevitably stiffened. “My brother will be a Guardian soon. I hoped that some mages would sympathise with a crossbreed, but the system is screwed up.”

  “I have a plan,” I then
said. Darius raised his brow. “I am going to run to be a mages ruler at Organisation, once again. Then, I will make Lawliet a mage, like he should be.” I looked up at Lawliet and hoped that he noticed the hint of a smile I so desperately wanted to show. “I won’t let you leave me here alone.”

  “And I don’t want to leave you, either.”

  “Super cute.”

  Darius stepped up on the edge of the window and then fell back. I moved forward based on instinct and looked down, only to be greeted with blinding, purple light. Steams of it, like a current, streaked in the air, creating his own aurora borealis. Through the streams, a shiny, purple head, spikes across the top, and a long neck broke through before the wings extended outwards, and flapped. Darius hovered at the opening of the tower, his purple eye on the side of the window, shined inwards before he moved up and revealed shiny, white, sharp and jagged teeth dripping with saliva.

  “Care for a flight?” He asked, that silky velvet voice grainy, almost like he was growling.

  “Flight?” I asked. Turning to Lawliet, I asked, “What does he mean?”

  “He wants us to ride him,” Lawliet answered. Golden eyes looked down, and he smiled mischievously at me. “Are you afraid? The girl who leapt out of this tower?”

  “I was in control, then.”

  “And you will be in control now.”

  Darius moved away from the window until his wing hovered at the edge, at the windowsill. Lawliet stepped up and out, standing on Darius’s wing. He moved up and down slightly, as Darius still flapped his wing to keep himself flying.

  Lawliet then leaned in and reached out his hand to me. Again, I contemplated if I should take hold when I looked back into those golden eyes smiling at me, daring me to come with him. In the end, it was inevitable, and I took hold and shuffled out.

  I was only wearing my fluffy socks. I could feel Darius’s hard, shiny purple scales that were slightly slippery, like a snake. Not letting go of Lawliet’s hand, I weaved through the spikes that struck out and looked so sharp that if I poked even the side, I would cut my finger.

  We stood near Darius’s head, along his spine, which was the smoothest part of his body. Lawliet wrapped his arms around me, tightly, forcing my body to press against his, and face bury into his chest.