Her dad had been worried. Old hatreds died hard, he’d tell her but he supported her all the same.
With an echo of her mom’s soul gifted into the ruby, she could take her with her to Brookmoors. Her mom could, in her own way become a Magi too. Her dream of attending Brookmoors could become a reality.
Pyx scrubbed the tears from her eyes. Her hands blurred, forming the shapes needed to manipulate magic, creating her glamour once more. The soles of her feet tingled as the magic washed over her from bottom to top. Her wounds vanished - she looked like an abuse victim - and her less-than-human traits vanished.
She looked at herself in the mirror, the whites of her eyes and vivid blues of her irises stared back at her. Pyx winked at herself.
A glimpse outside told her that she was running late. She threw on some presentable clothes, a dark blouse, torn tight jeans, fuchsia high-top sneakers and a matching fuchsia pair of headphones.
Hyuul was still recovering on the couch when she rushed out the door with a stern warning to the Munc to take care of him above all else.
Central Park was a calming bustle of people moving about their day. A few late day runners jogged alongside her. Her headphones were blasting swing music. She’d gotten a taste for it after the fight with the Gxen.
There was still plenty of time, enough that when she got to the Gapstow bridge she had to wait until it was time for the Gate to open. There was something about Central Park that set her teeth on edge. It made her feel naked without Gongoran strapped to her back. She turned up the volume and tried to ignore it, turning to look out over the water and the way the golden strands of light were crushed into sparkling motes of gold.
Where the hell was Sylvie? They were supposed to have the same slot for the Gate tonight. If she didn’t show up soon she’d miss it. Pyx had been late herself, what had kept Sylvie? It’s not like she had a monster to defeat. Or did she?
No, probably not unless that monster was the shower head.
Pyx grinned at the thought of Sylvie having a secret life. It would not have surprised her. She bobbed her head to the music, her hands in her pockets. She thumbed her mother’s ruby, rolling it around in her pocket. The edge pricked her finger slightly, just enough to send a jolt of pain and break up her thoughts.
She looked around idly as she tried to find the sharp point again. The ruby had never felt sharp before. As she slid her gaze around the darkened path she belatedly noticed Sylvie standing a ways away from her.
Her eyes snapped back to the girl. What was going on? Shadows were coalesced around Sylvie, holding her rigid. Without a thought for herself she pulled her headphones off so they rested around her neck and she launched into a Banishment Charm.
Magic welled up within her. She formed the motions with her palms, fingers dancing. Sylvie looked utterly terrified, but she stared at nothing. Just fog and shadow. Still, Pyx’s muted senses told her something was dreadfully wrong. Whatever was happening to Sylvie felt real to her friend, and that was all that mattered.
Pyx noticed the shadowy tendrils reaching toward her and at the last moment she skidded to a halt. The shadows continued to quest towards her and she danced a few steps back, rolling her wrists around each other in the final throes of the spell. The magic welled up inside her until it burst forth like a breath held too long.
Sylvie was released from her torment and they met in the middle. Pyx’s Brand was already warning her that their time was ticking away. If they missed the Gate, Brookmoors would assume they had declined their offer. No way was that happening to them.
Pyx was going to make sure they both made it.
She had just fought a Gxen, a friggin’ extraplanar creature straight out of the Horror Handbook. There was no way in Hell she was going to have Brookmoors ripped away from her because of tardiness.
Sylvie dragged behind her. The girl was wheezing and coughing. Pyx hauled her, pouring a little of her supernatural strength into the effort. The Gate appeared before them as a series of golden motes at the middle of the bridge.
It was almost comical how many times Sylvie stumbled and nearly fell if not for Pyx tugging on her. She was afraid she’d dislocate her arm, she was practically dragging her across the ground towards the Gate as she lurched through. Throughout it all she never let go of Sylvie’s hand. They were both getting through.
The tug of the Gate pulled at her and she felt her arm painfully extend as it pulled on a person who wasn’t presently occupying the same spacetime. The pain ended and she felt Sylvie join her in the freefalling tumble.
They were going to make it.
Pyx had shut her eyes. It wasn’t a good idea to look while you traveled through a Gate. When she felt the other side of the Gate approaching she opened her eyes to a blur of color and motion. Pyx found her feet and was trying to brace her own footing when Sylvie came and nearly tugged her onto her ass.
She pulled back, keeping the girl from sending them both to the ground and only then realized her mistake. Sylvie didn’t have her balance, or really any at all it seemed. She watched with the horrifying realization that Sylvie was trying to catch herself from falling. Pyx’s tug had been the final nail in Sylvie’s clumsy coffin.
The girl lurched forward and smacked her face into the only rock jutting out of the grass for what looked to be hundreds of feet.
Talk about unlucky.
Pyx was in a sorry state herself, but with a cursory glance to make sure the coast was clear, she hefted Sylvie into her arms like a sack of flour and carried her to the nearest building. Blood seeped from the wound in Sylvie’s forehead, but she seemed okay otherwise. Head wounds had a habit of looking scarier than they were, a fact Pyx knew well enough.
She smiled down at her friend. “Things’ll be okay,” she said. “You’ll see. I got you, Sylvie.”
It didn’t take her long to find a teacher who took her to the Gardens, the Magi equivalent of a hospital, though aptly named for the number of gardens they had within. She’d stay with Sylvie; she didn’t want her waking up alone in an unfamiliar place. Besides, she needed medical attention herself.
In the trip to Brookmoors she had clearly pulled one or two of her wounds open again. Not that Sylvie needed to know. The girl needed a friend, and she was resolute that she would be there for her.
Waiting for a Healer to enter the room, she laid Sylvie on the bed and took out the burned slip of paper that started it all months before. There was a single name written in harsh, angular letters.
Sylvie Asleton.
Pyx crushed the paper in her fist and turned it to ash.
Afterword
I hope you enjoyed a glimpse into Pyx’s life before Brookmoors. I had a blast writing it and sharing a bit of Pyx’s past with you all. For more of Pyx and Sylvie’s adventures as they embark on their journey to become Magi at Brookmoors Academy of Sorcery and Invocation visit: https://www.callumbooks.com/books
Pyx's Tale- A Vow Delayed Page 4