The Other Prism (The Broken Prism)

by St. Clair, V.

  Neither dragon responded—not that he had really expected them to.

  “I wish people would stop talking bad about me every time I blow my nose,” he continued, scowling. “Those idiots were just making up rumors back there because they have nothing better to do, saying I’m going to turn out like him.”

  Bonk sidled over to him and hopped onto his lap, curling up so that his warm belly was heating Hayden’s legs. Hayden patted his head absent-mindedly.

  “I’m not stupid enough to go using broken prisms, so there’s no way I would ever turn out like my dad,” he continued, because voicing his frustrations out loud made him feel better. “Do you really think the other Masters don’t like teaching me?”

  Bonk let out what was unmistakably a snort of derision, which cheered Hayden slightly. Cinder was still watching him attentively, as though he was soaking in every word that Hayden spoke. It was a little unnerving.

  “You’re right, Bonk. It’s stupid to think that the others are afraid of me. Almost as stupid as what they said about Asher being nearly as bad as the Dark Prism.” He fumed again at the very thought of it, because the Prism Master had been Hayden’s mentor for over a year now, and he didn’t like people making up horrible lies about him.

  Cinder flapped his wings gently to get airborne and settled on Hayden’s shoulder. Once again, Hayden was beginning to feel crowded by miniature dragons, and his rumbling stomach cued him to go back inside.

  “Come on, the sun’s already starting to go down. It must be time for dinner.” He gently nudged Bonk off of his lap, and his familiar took flight and perched on top of his head, making him feel oddly lopsided with the weight of Cinder on his left shoulder.

  All I need is for Slasher to show up, and I’ll have every dragon at Mizzenwald on me at one time.

  Chuckling at the thought, he made his way back towards the rear entrance of the castle in the fading sunlight, walking around the smooth expanse of black stone that he had Conjury classes on. He passed a few people in the halls who gave him strange looks—probably because of the abundance of magical creatures on him—and ignored the attention as he wound his way towards the pentagonal foyer that led to the dining hall.

  Remembering that the final scores were supposed to be posted by now, he detoured to the eastern wall to check the rosters.

  Prisms

  Speed Endurance Efficiency Will Total

  Hayden Frost 9 11 8 9 37

  Oliver Trout 6 7 7 8 28

  Kevin Serilla 5 6 4 5 20

  Andric Scott 5 5 5 4 19

  Cindy Olterra 4 5 7 6 22

  Hayden stared at the numbers for almost a full minute, attempting to sort out his mixed feelings. He had clearly won the tryouts, which meant that he would be representing Mizzenwald as the school’s prism-user. This was good news, but it also forced him to acknowledge that he was about to be thrust into a series of challenges in front of complete strangers, against prism-users that were years older than him and had much more experience. Unless he was the only natural prism in the entire competition, he might end up returning to Mizzenwald in last place, and would never hear the end of it from the other students who thought he was an attention-seeking showoff.

  Hayden continued to the dining hall, looking around for his friends. Cinder caught sight of Master Asher and took flight, abandoning Hayden at the door. Bonk hopped from Hayden’s head onto his newly-vacant shoulder, and Hayden attempted to flatten his tousled hair as he spotted his friends at a table in the corner.

  He was a little surprised to see Tess sitting with the others—she didn’t eat meals with them last year—and he sat down directly beside her. Bonk hopped off of his shoulder and immediately began eating Hayden’s food.

  “Hey, we were wondering where you ran off to after the tryouts,” Tamon greeted him, holding up a chicken leg for Conner’s owl to nibble on.

  “I was playing ‘fetch’ with Bonk and Cinder and lost track of time,” Hayden answered, shuffling Bonk out of the way so he could get some chicken.

  “Well you should have come back sooner—maybe you could have talked some sanity into the Masters before they screwed up our challenge group this year,” Zane grumbled somberly.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Conner looked surprised that he didn’t already know. “What, did you forget that today was the last day to register challenge group teams?”

  Hayden’s mouth fell open. He had completely forgotten about the pre-registration process for challenge arenas in the excitement over preparing for his prism tryouts.

  “Please tell me one of you put our names down before this morning…” he looked frantically from Tess to Zane. The former answered.

  “Yes, I did, but I didn’t know who our fourth was going to be so we had to go down to the lawns after all the tryouts were finished to get another person,” she explained quietly. “Since you’re our leader and you didn’t show up, the Masters decided to get…creative….”

  “Creative?” Zane interjected. “Evil, is more like it.” He scowled. “You’ll never guess who they gave us for a fourth—and laughed about it as they were doing it.”

  Hayden shook his head.

  “Who? Kayce?”

  “I wish,” Zane snorted. “They paired us with Lorn Trout.”

  It took an unusually long time for those words to register in Hayden’s brain. In fact, his initial response was to search his mind for a second Lorn Trout who was currently attending Mizzenwald, since he couldn’t even conceive of being paired with the first.

  “Are you joking?” Hayden said at last. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “No joke.” Zane stabbed moodily at a potato. “We’re supposed to manage all our arena challenges this year with that useless lump alongside us. There goes our reigning championship on top of the rankings.”

  “They did this to us just because I forgot to show up for the selection this morning?” Hayden fumed, glaring around the hall at the Masters, none of whom were looking at him right now.

  “Well, that’s not what they said, but I think some of the other Masters are eager to knock you down a few rungs, especially after you killed everyone else in the Prism tryouts.”

  Hayden frowned, forcibly reminded of the people he overheard earlier in the third-year common area. Maybe the Masters really did think he was a freak…

  He stood up as soon as he saw Master Asher leave the dining hall, metallic red robes billowing behind him as he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, Cinder and Horace flying above him. Hayden was only halfway through his first plate of food, but he was too desperate for answers to focus on eating right now.

  “Hayden, where are you—”

  “I’ll see you later,” he interrupted Conner, leaving his friends without another word and taking long strides to catch up to the Prism Master.

  Asher was at the other end of the corridor by the time he got out of the dining hall, turning out of sight in the pentagonal foyer. Hayden broke into a run to close the distance between them, racing around the corner just in time to see Master Asher enter a room down the hallway from where he had Prisms lessons.

  Hayden slowed to a walk and followed, stopping in front of the unfamiliar door and knocking loudly. Asher answered the door wearing black pants and a grey shirt, having already discarded his Masters robes for the day. He looked surprised to see Hayden on the other side of the doorway, his blue eyes widening slightly as they took in the sight of him.

  “Hayden, what brings you to see me at this time of night?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  Master Asher narrowed his eyebrows in interest and opened the door wider, motioning Hayden inside. Hayden, who had been expecting a classroom, was startled at having walked directly into a living room.

  A few mismatched armchairs and a couch were clustered together around an oak coffee table, and a potted plant that had long since died stood in the corner. There was a dining table on the opposite end of the room, though it
looked like it had never been used for its intended purpose; it was presently covered in sheets of paper that were inked with complicated diagrams of light arrays and notes on prisms. There were other doors leading off down a narrow hallway, presumably to the bathroom and Master Asher’s bedroom.

  “I—didn’t know you lived here,” Hayden said dumbly, standing awkwardly near the door.

  “What, you thought I slept outside?” The Prism Master gave him a strange look and then motioned for him to sit down in one of the armchairs.

  “No, I just…never thought about where the Masters actually stayed before,” he admitted, taking a seat and glancing at a bookshelf that was overflowing with books, trying to read the titles on the spines. He didn’t recognize any of them.

  “Well, now you know.” Master Asher shrugged and took a seat in the armchair opposite him. “I don’t expect that’s why you came to see me tonight?”

  “No, sir.” Hayden shook himself mentally and focused.

  “I suppose I should congratulate you on becoming the official Prism of Team Mizzenwald this year,” Asher leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I assume you saw the scores in the Pentagon?”

  “Yeah, just before dinner,” Hayden said.

  “You don’t seem excited.”

  “I am…” Hayden hesitated. “But I’m also nervous about what I’m going to have to do now. I still haven’t had much training with actual prisms yet; your class is mostly theory.”

  Asher smirked. “It’s highly theoretical for good reason, though of course I’ll be spending some time with you one-on-one to help you prepare for your upcoming challenges.”

  That was good to know, because Hayden had been terrified of going in completely unprepared.

  “I missed the arena team selections today,” he blurted out quite suddenly.

  Master Asher raised an eyebrow at the change of subject and lifted a hand at the sound of Horace taking flight and coming to join them. The hawk alit on the Prism Master’s wrist and surveyed Hayden imperiously.

  “Yes, your absence was noted,” he confirmed.

  “I completely forgot about the challenge arena stuff after the Prism trials were finished,” Hayden explained, frowning.

  “I figured that was the case, though Sark was convinced you were trying to snub us.” Asher rolled his eyes at the thought. “Out of curiosity, where were you all day?”

  Hayden frowned. “I was playing ‘fetch’ with Bonk and Cinder by the translocation circle. They liked diving over the cliffs.”

  Master Asher raised his eyebrows in interest.

  “Ah, so that’s where Cinder went off to. I had wondered.” He shrugged.

  “Zane said you all were punishing us because I wasn’t there, and assigned Lorn to our group,” Hayden turned the subject to the real reason he was here.

  Master Asher pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Why do you think that was a punishment?”

  Was he joking? Had he completely forgotten the mutual enmity between Hayden and Lorn Trout?

  “Because Lorn and I can’t stand each other, and you all knew that and deliberately put us in a group together anyway. Do you all just want to see me fail or something?” Hayden blurted out, his irritation getting the better of him.

  The Prism Master leveled his gaze at him.

  “Your attitude does you no credit,” he said seriously. “You have been convinced for the last year that we exist only to see you suffer, and quite frankly, it’s getting old.”

  Hayden felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment and anger.

  “Can you blame me?” he raised his voice without meaning to. “Sark has been trying to expel me since the minute I showed up, Kilgore sent me into a hydra-infested bog for detention, Willow sent me to the top of freezing Mount Arawas with two people who hate me and want me dead, Reede’s thought I was insane ever since I lost it in that arena challenge last year, and you nearly attacked me when I asked if you would ever consider sponsoring me!”

  Every pent-up ounce of frustration was bursting out of him at once; he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He wasn’t even pausing to draw breath between sentences.

  “Every time I use magic you all look at me like I’m a freak! I can’t even go down the hallway without hearing people talk about how I’m going to turn out bad like my father, or saying I’m a show off! I’m sick of it! I’m tired of being the son of Aleric Frost: I’m tired of being the one everyone talks about, the one that can’t even go into the prism shop without getting into a fight with the owner!” He paused to draw in a lungful of air. “You said last year that we were both outcasts, that you’d have my back, but you stuck me with Lorn just like you stuck me in the I.S.C., to watch me fail!”

  An uncomfortable moment of silence fell between them. Master Asher hadn’t moved during Hayden’s entire rant, but now he looked stonily back at him.

  “Are you finished?” the Prism Master said at last.

  “Yes,” Hayden swallowed, unclenching his fists, wondering when he had stood up because he didn’t remember doing it.

  “Good, now it is my turn to talk and your turn to listen,” Master Asher continued mildly, though Hayden could see the angry set of his jaw. “You are not the first or only person to earn the distinction of Kirius Sark’s ire, so please do not feel special in that regard. Willow and Kilgore happen to think you are quite talented, and have a healthy respect for your moral fiber, especially after you turned down the chance of using an imperfect prism last year. Reede does not think you’re crazy, on the whole, though he says you’ll be lucky to ever complete a successful double-braided cross with your execrable drawing skills in Conjury.

  “As for me, if you don’t know by now that I hold you in high regard then you’re much stupider than I thought,” Asher continued in that cold, level tone. “I’ve already said I intend to help you as much as I can before the I.S.C., and my peers and I did not put Lorn in your group because we want to see you fail. If you’re so convinced that we all hate you, I can put in a call to the Council of Mages tonight to have you transferred to a different school. Maybe they’ll appreciate you properly and coddle you into adulthood.”

  Hayden felt his face blanch in horror at the thought of being sent away from Mizzenwald, where he had friends and felt like he belonged…

  “No, I don’t want to go anywhere else,” he said quickly.

  “Then get your head out of your butt and accept that I am on your side,” Asher said bluntly.

  Hayden took a deep breath and sat back down, trying to school his features into something obedient and nonthreatening.

  “Alright, sir, then may I ask why you thought it would be advantageous to put Lorn on my challenge team?” he asked with credible politeness.

  “He’s a Powder major, like his brother,” Master Asher explained calmly. “It’s a good complement to your team, because Tess has always focused more heavily on Elixirs during your challenges.”

  Hoping he didn’t sound argumentative, Hayden asked, “What about a Wand major though? I was hoping for the offense, because Tucker really saved us a few times last year.”

  “Willow believes that you are sufficiently skilled with wands that you can use them when necessary for your team, and Zane can use wands as well. Most importantly though, you need to learn to work with people you don’t like. As an adult, and as the son of Aleric Frost, you are going to have to get used to cooperating with people who hate you. The sooner you develop that skill, the better.”

  Hayden frowned thoughtfully.

  “How am I supposed to get people who hate me to listen to me?”

  “That’s for you to figure out, because in the real world you won’t be able to just ask for a new partner on an assignment. You’re going to need to work with whoever is available whether they’re your best friend or not,” Asher said without sympathy. “Lorn is a good place to start, because he has a vested interest in your challenge group succeeding now that he is part of it. I suggest you sta
rt finding a way to use his knowledge to your advantage, because the boy isn’t stupid, for all that you dislike him.”

  Hayden nodded in concession and stood up.

  “Thank you for your time, sir. I’m sorry I raised my voice at you.” Having yelled himself hoarse, he was now absolutely exhausted and eager to wash up and do some reading in bed.

  “I accept your apology.” Asher nodded curtly, watching him leave.

  Hayden stopped at the doorway and turned around, because there was still something on his mind, something that had been on his mind for a long time now, but he was always too scared to ask about it. It was the one part of his rant that the Prism Master hadn’t really addressed during his rebuttal.

  “Something else you wanted to say?” Asher hadn’t moved from his chair, still watching him intently.

  “Yes, sir. I wanted to ask…I’ve wanted to ask for a while now, how come you…” he trailed off, wondering if the question was impertinent, or if it would lead to another round of yelling that would prompt Asher to have him transferred to another school.

  “Yes…?”

  Something about the look on the Prism Master’s face gave him pause, because it seemed like he knew exactly what Hayden wanted to ask him. He must have known when I shouted it before, and he didn’t answer on purpose…

  If there was a reason for his silence on the subject, dragging it out into the open would probably only make Hayden regret it in the long run. Better to quit now, while he was ahead…

  “Never mind, sir. It isn’t important.” He turned away, leaving the living room and closing the door behind him. He had a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach for the entire walk upstairs to the showers, as the question that had been on his mind for months continued to hammer around inside his head.

  If you think so much of me, why are you so horrified at the thought of sponsoring me?

  6

  The Shield Charm

  Hayden spent the next morning feeling distinctly awkward for shouting at the Prism Master in his living room the night before. Now that he was well-rested he reflected back on the conversation with horror, wondering how he was supposed to ever look Master Asher in the eye again.