by Eric Vall
“If you say so,” I sighed and ran my fingers through her hair, “but you know you can talk to me if there is, right?” Layla nodded against my torso as she latched on tighter.
Minutes passed before Layla finally glanced up at me. There weren’t any tears in her eyes, but there was a genuine sadness that pained me when I saw it. It gave me the impression that she didn’t want to be alone. I brushed my thumbs over her cheeks with a soft smile, then pushed her back onto the bed. I climbed in after her and pulled the sheets over us before holding her again. She was warm at my side and fit like a glove as she snuggled against me.
“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” I asked and traced the line of her clothed back. Layla nodded with a soft hum, the weight of sleeping already taking hold of her.
“Later, but can we just lay together?” she whispered. The tip of her finger dragged along my jaw and drew my lips against hers.
“As you wish,” I said as I pulled the blanket up and around us. We kissed a few more times, and she stared into my eyes, but then she lay on my chest and was soon breathing deeply. Sleep came to me much easier being back in my own bed, and better still was the comfort of Layla curled up against me. Eventually, the rhythmic breathing of Layla asleep in my ear lulled me into the same state.
A knock on the door drew me out of my slumber much earlier than I would have liked. With a languid stretch, I rolled over. Braden must have come back after I was already asleep, and Layla…
I did a quick scan of the room, and my stomach twisted. Layla was gone. She had probably slipped out in the middle of the night.
The knock came again, and I groaned, annoyed. “Okay, okay.” I had half a mind to at least put on a pair of shorts before I answered. The headmaster’s errand boy, Petyr, stood obediently on the other side with an expectant, bored gaze.
“Your presence is required in the headmaster’s office,” he informed me. Guess it was time for me to make my report. I bit back another groan before I nodded. It was going to be a long day, and I intended to make it an even longer one for Petyr and force him to wait unnecessarily long for me to change. It was a petty game, to be sure, but I enjoyed the heck out of it.
Petyr got his payback by forcing me up those ridiculous stairs yet again though. I began to think that the beanpole got some sort of sick pleasure watching me suffer. Knowing what I did, that probably wasn’t too far off from the truth.
When I reached the top, Varleth and Nia were already there, and they both looked significantly less drained. Either they had been here for a while, or Petyr actually liked them, and they got to take the lift instead. I grumbled to myself and joined them in front of the headmaster’s desk.
“Ah, Gryff, good of you to join us,” Marangur Sleet turned to face us, beaming ear-to-ear. Clearly, he was a morning person. I looked at Nia and Varleth. Both of them looked refreshed, only a little tired by the dark circles under their eyes, but I had to wonder if that was less of a sleep issue and more of a stress issue. There were still pressing matters, like the flying monsters, and giant angel-women who wanted to destroy us, amongst other things.
“Am I late?” I blinked and looked at Nia again, then back to the headmaster. If Petyr purposely made me late, I swore I was going to find a way to make his life harder. Nothing drastic. Maybe I’d start asking him which outrageous outfit looked better on me before he escorted me. I nodded to myself at my solid plan for revenge.
“Not at all.” Sleet smiled and folded his hands in front of him. “On the contrary, we’re waiting for one more.” One more? Did he mean Orenn? That would make sense, but from what Arwyn had told us before we left Bedima, he had been in rough shape. Was it possible that he’d made such a speedy recovery? It seemed unlikely, but I was hopeful all the same.
“I’m here. I’m sorry.” My head whipped towards the direction of the voice and butterflies filled my stomach. Arwyn.
She looked tired, as though sleep hadn’t come to her but for a few hours at most, and it was likely disjointed as well. Bags hung under her amber eyes, and her hair was tied back in a sloppy ponytail. Yes, those were certainly signs of a long night. Our gazes met, and I resisted the urge to brush the stray curl from her face when she smiled. We would talk later, I was sure.
“No need for apologies, Ms. Hamner,” Sleet assured, as calm as he ever was. We turned our attention to him again. He looked over us all and gestured to the chairs nearby. “Sit. I’m afraid we have much to discuss.”
So we sat, Nia on my left, Arwyn on my right, and Varleth on the opposite side of her. As we went down the line, each of us recounted every step from the time we left Varle to our return last night. Headmaster Sleet listened intently. He nodded and hummed along with us as though he were putting pieces together of a much larger puzzle that we couldn't see.
We told him about the unknown flying monsters, how they might still be loose if the moon hadn’t destroyed them, and the monster that spoke to Nia and me while we were in the Shadowscape. The atmosphere of the room grew progressively thicker and tense, and both Arwyn and Nia shifted, uncomfortable with the weight of the situation.
I honestly couldn’t blame them.
“These are troubling details indeed,” Sleet mumbled, though it seemed more to himself than to any of us. He was silent again as he stood and paced to and fro in front of the window. “All of you are certain that this is what happened?”
We looked between one another. It was true that Varleth wasn’t present when the angelic monster spoke to us, and Arwyn was there for even less of the events, but we had no reason to disbelieve any of our teammates' stories. We nodded in unison.
Sleet nodded, too, and stopped in front of his desk to lean on the edge. “Unfortunately, I have no answers for you at this time, nor any potential solutions.” He grimaced as he spoke to us in a rather hushed tone. “But know this, if there are any sightings of those flying monsters, you will be the first ones to know.”
When he said nothing else, I looked to Nia. Her eyes seemed unfocused, as though she were lost in thought, and she worried her bottom lip. On my other side, Arwyn smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. If anything, it appeared to be a smile out of being polite and professional rather than one that was genuine. It was an odd gesture for Arwyn, one that spelled she was unsatisfied with the answer but unwilling to argue with Headmaster Sleet.
As for Varleth, his normally stoic face was twisted, and his jaw was clenched. His chin rested atop his fist as he stared straight ahead, out over the Enclave that bustled outside. The sky was blue, the sun was shining with a new day, unaware of the danger that was running, or in this instance, flying, amok across our world. He gripped the arm of the chair, knuckles white.
“That’s it?” The words left my mouth before I could catch them and I locked eyes with Sleet. “We’re simply supposed to wait until another disaster strikes?” Anger bubbled in the pit of my stomach. All the questions that needed answers burned like bile in my throat.
“Gryff,” Arwyn warned with a gentle hand on my shoulder, “there isn’t anything more we can do.”
I swallowed, and I could feel my hands shake in my lap. I balled them into fists.
“What would you propose we do, Mr. Gryff?” Sleet asked with a raised eyebrow, but I wasn’t going to back down. I wanted to say look for them before another incident occurred. I wanted to say that not being proactive was just as good as giving up.
I wanted to protect everyone.
Then it hit me then that there was another way.
“Research,” I replied with confidence. “We might not have all the answers in front of us, but there is no sense in looking for a fight when we know nothing about the enemy.”
Sleet nodded expectantly, so I continued. “Are there any books in the archives that we aren’t necessarily taught in school?” It seemed like a dumb question after the fact, but I had a reason for asking it. “Something like what we’re up against isn’t commonplace, so it probably doesn’t need to take precedence in the
curriculum, right?”
I felt everyone’s eyes on me then, like I had said something that was unheard of and absolutely batshit crazy. Hell, it might have been.
There was another shift in the atmosphere and Sleet smiled.
“Perhaps you may be onto something, Gryff,” the old man complimented and stroked his chin. “Ms. Hamner and I will take your words to heart and see if there is anything that we can discover that we don’t already know.” He looked to Arwyn, who nodded, her smile lighter than before. “However, for now, I must ask that the three of you continue your studies as students of the Academy. Though you may be members of this squad, there is still much to teach you that you can learn in books.”
I couldn’t help but deflate a little. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it was the answer that I would have to accept. I had already stepped out of line with my decision to challenge Headmaster Sleet, and I didn’t want to ruin any chance to stay here.
With a sigh, I conceded. “Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir,” Nia and Varleth followed, though they seemed as unhappy with the headmaster’s decision as I was.
“You are dismissed,” Sleet waved us on, and the three of us stood. Arwyn remained, presumably to continue talking strategy. I spared a final glance at her before I left, this time on the lift.
As we left, I resolved not only to redouble my studies but to be ready. The next time we found one of those worms or that talking angel witch, they wouldn’t get away.
Chapter 11
Going about the day like there was nothing on my mind was a task. My concentration constantly slipped from one thing to another. Whether it was to the flying monster situation or to the strange events with Layla the night before, my mind was constantly occupied by something that wasn’t the work I was intended to do.
At archery practice, my arrow missed the mark for the fifth time in a row, and I huffed in frustration. On the sixth try, the arrow veered hard to the left, and I hit another student’s target entirely. It was a bulls-eye, but not what I was aiming for. Otherwise, it might have been impressive.
The little snippets of conversation that I had with Braden were helpful, but not by much. We talked about topics that didn’t require any deep thought, but they were nothing that could hold my interest long enough to keep me engaged or hold the heavy thoughts that continued to encroach on my mind at bay. It didn’t help that Layla hadn’t so much as looked at me since the other night when we laid in bed together. The behavior was odd since I thought that us just snuggling had been fun and a little romantic, and when I tried to ask her why she was mad at me, she said either “nothing,” or straight out ignored me.
So, I was champing at the bit when the time came to spar.
I could feel the pent-up rage within me begin to tingle in my fingertips, ready to be unleashed. I sat and watched in agony as others were called before me. I found myself being overly critical of my peers in a way that I hadn’t before. Too slow. Poor stance. Was that even a real technique?
I groaned and drummed my hands to an imaginary beat to keep them occupied. My whole life, I had always been an upbeat person who tried to see the silver lining in all situations, but I couldn’t find any peace in the clouds today.
“Gryff! You’re up!” the major called my name, and I leapt to my feet. Finally, some action. His eyes scanned the rest of the class for my opponent as I entered the ring. I bounced on my heels in anticipation. “Bethel, get in there!”
I stopped mid-bounce. Layla was wordless as she cracked her knuckles and took her place opposite me. I tried to get a read on her, anything at all that would clue me in as to what was going on in her head, but all I was met with was a steely gaze that felt like razors on my skin. I brushed it off the best I could, and my joints popped satisfyingly as I stretched. Fine. If she didn’t want to talk, then neither did I. We would work this out through another means. I squared up and took my stance.
The major blew the whistle, and the match started. Layla, never one to exercise patience, came at me hard and fast with her fist reared back. The punch was easy enough to dodge, but the kick that followed wasn’t. She ducked at an unreal speed and swung her leg out. I was able to leap over the first kick, but the second one came out of nowhere.
In some twisted fashion, one that only someone with a frame as tiny as hers could pull off, she landed her foot square in the center my chest. I grunted as I staggered backward with the wind knocked out of me. She threw another punch, and I barely had time to evade. At this rate, Layla was going to tire out quickly or knock me out, so I had to fight back before I lost my chance to.
I came back up and retaliated with an uppercut, one that narrowly missed her chin and forcefully grazed her cheek instead. Fire burned in her eyes as she swung at me again, another blow that was easily avoided.
She threw punch after punch, each one sloppier than the last, but the ones that did land, even if they missed their mark, hurt like hell. Whoever said ‘you punch like a girl’ clearly never actually fought my scrappy lover.
“Feeling any better?” I asked. It was more of a genuine concern than a taunt, but it egged her on all the same. Layla huffed, then swung her leg out for a roundhouse kick. I caught her foot with ease and slammed her to the ground. The glare that she tossed at me was filled with fire. A smirk curled her lips.
“You should worry about yourself,” she replied curtly. She swung her other leg out and used her momentum to throw me back. I only faltered for a moment and regained my equilibrium just in time to block another wave of furious punches.
As Layla continued her onslaught, I found myself stuck in a defensive position. I was hesitant to attack her for fear of how bad I might hurt her if I unleashed.
So, I held my position until she started to tire out. When I saw her chest heave and sweat drip from her brow, I dropped my guard and kneeled.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected. Part of me thought that Layla would keep up her tirade. Part of me hoped she would so that she could work out whatever was bothering her, and the Layla that I cared for would return.
“What the hell are you doing?” her voice came from above me.
I could hear the collective gasp and chatter of our classmates around us, but their voices sounded muffled, lost in the ringing that echoed in my ears. If I had to hazard a guess, they were shocked, confused, and maybe even concerned. For what it was worth, I was all the above, and I hated it.
“Get up, Gryff,” Layla demanded, and panic resonated in her voice. “Get up!”
“Gryff!” The major shouted and blew his whistle. I didn’t move, not at first. It wasn’t until Layla gripped my shoulder and shoved me so that I looked up at her. The look in her eyes was tragically beautiful, like the sun as it reflected off of an icy ocean. I wanted to kiss her then if only to feel some sense of normalcy.
“I won’t hurt you,” I muttered quietly.
Layla set her jaw. “What?”
“I said, I won’t hurt you, Layla,” I repeated and stood, my head hung as I looked at her. That was all I could say. I didn’t know what else there was, so I walked away.
“Gryff?” I heard Nia call out after me, but no one stopped me.
My head swam. I didn’t want to think anymore, so I didn’t, and let my feet carry me in whatever direction they so desired. I wasn’t sure how long I had blanked out, but when I finally looked up from the ground to take in my surroundings, I was in the medical wing. I would usually only come here after a particularly gruesome sparring match, but maybe I subconsciously felt like I was wounded enough that it warranted medical attention. I barked out a laugh at the irony.
My head was still a mess. I figured I could at least get something to calm me down while I was here. Surely there was an herb mixture or long-brewed tonic that could ease my mind for a couple of hours. What I really needed was a stiff drink and an unlimited bar tab.
I rang the bell. After a moment, Meriden, the head caretaker in the infirmary, came around the corner with a clipboa
rd clutched to her chest. The faint scent of roses followed her.
“Ah, Mister Gryff,” she greeted with a warm smile.
“Hey,” I returned, and although I smiled, I doubt it reached my eyes.
“You look to be in relatively good health,” she commented. “Are you here to see Mr. Vascarti?”
I blinked several times, dumbfounded, and then it hit me. Orenn. I had completely forgotten with everything else that had transpired in the last couple of days. A pit of guilt settled in my stomach.
“Yes, I am,” I lied, but now that I remembered, I welcomed the opportunity to see my teammate.
Meriden nodded and motioned for me to follow. I trailed behind as her short legs trotted down along the line of beds. Her heels clicked and echoed in the otherwise silent wing. We came to a stop at a bed towards the end with the curtain drawn.
“He’s still in a coma,” she frowned, and I was suddenly very unaware of what I was about to walk into. “If you talk to him, he’ll be able to hear you, though.”
I nodded dumbly and took a deep breath. When I pulled back the curtain, my heart sank.
Orenn looked peaceful as his chest rose and fell in slumber and the light of dusk filtered through the window above his bed. His outer wounds, or what I could see of them from where I stood, had healed nicely, but scars littered his arms, obvious signs of his previous altercations. A long, zig-zag scar decorated his chest. It was old, though, not something that was acquired in our recent battle.
“Will he ever wake up?” The question sounded childish on my tongue, and I felt as such, but Meriden kept her warm smile as she regarded me.
“Most likely, yes,” she nodded. Her bright red lips pursed together as she considered her next words. “Mr. Vascarti suffered multiple breaks and serious injuries. We can treat you all with potions and concoctions and mutter a healing spell, but the body still needs time to recover on its own.” I grimaced and recalled Nia’s close encounter with death after she had depleted her mana in a fight. How extensive had Orenn’s injuries been that he was still out days later?