The Fury's Light

by Hailey Staker

  “Yes, but what makes you think I am anything like I was back then?” Benedict said.

  “Your mission is to protect the magical from the mundane. It always has been, and you protected us when we had nothing, when we knew nothing of this new world you brought us to,” Dimitri explained. “The Darkness will stop at nothing to get what we have and the only way to protect that is to bring her here. All we need is a few days.”

  “Who are you trying to protect? The girl in the corner?” Benedict asked.

  “Someone far more powerful than we ever imagined,” Dimitri said in hushed tones. “We found the Light.”

  Benedict’s eyes went wide, unsure if he heard the Fury correctly.

  “She’s in danger, the Darkness has found her and she is not fully trained. She really doesn’t even know what she truly is,” Dimitri continued. “If you could let us stay so we can finish training her, it would be very helpful. We can ensure no harm will come to this school, Benedict. But we have nowhere else to go.”

  “I see… I’ll have Clara and Sala prepare your rooms,” Benedict said slowly. “Is there anyone who needs medical care?”

  “Christine possibly, she’s a…”

  “Seer, I know. What about the other girl?” Benedict asked.

  “Rachel, yes her as well,” Dimitri said. “She too is a Seer.”

  “Is there anything else you need from me? The Seers, how well do they know what they are?”

  “I know you’re going out of your way to allow us to stay,” Dimitri said. “I really can’t ask you to do much more.”

  “I don’t want unstable ignorant creatures in my Academy,” Benedict said. “They will receive training here, and you will not argue with me any longer.”

  Dimitri stayed silent, unable to speak. This wasn’t the first time Benedict used this trick on him. In retrospect, their feud was more childish than anything.

  Benedict had a sly grin, turning toward the study. When the doors opened, his acolytes flocked to his side.

  “Ladies, please show our guests to their rooms. Christine and Rachel need medical attention so please show them to the infirmary first thing. Dimitri, if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Benedict said, leaving the women behind to follow his orders.

  The blonde girl rounded up Micah, Christine, and Rachel, introducing herself as Clara before leading them down a plethora of complicated hallways until they reached their destination. Clara told Micah to stay outside when she took both girls’ hands and brought them through the door. It seemed more like water when they appeared on the other side drenched.

  “Don’t worry, it happens to everyone,” Clara said. “Come, the doctor will see you now.”

  Christine was motioned to sit on a small plastic table while the doctor pulled a curtain around a circular rod until the two were separated from Rae and Clara.

  “Now, tell me what your ailments are,” the man with a fuzzy white beard said. He had baby blue eyes surrounded by wrinkled skin.

  “My wrists and ankles,” she said. She held out her hands, the pink scars from where the nails clamped together bright under the light from the skylight window.

  She heard the doctor hum, taking her wrists in his hands. The skin was cool and rough with age, but gentle and steady with experience. Christine felt a surge of warmth and a light shock to her wrists. When he removed his hands, the pink scars faded to a light red, the pain no longer there. He repeated the process on her ankles, asking her to lie down and close her eyes.

  The shock was slightly more powerful but when he pulled his hands away, she only felt warmth.

  “You should start feeling better in a few hours, my dear,” the old man said. “Now send your friend in.”

  Christine didn’t hesitate to leave the curtained room and send Rae in, but before she opened the curtain, Christine grabbed her arm.

  “You’ll feel a shock, but it’ll be okay,” she warned.

  Rae managed a smile, unsure why Christine was being so kind to her.

  When she saw the old man, she feared him.

  “What’s the matter, dear? I won’t hurt you,” he said. “Please, have a seat and tell me your ailments.”

  “I feel like I know you,” Rae said, taking a seat. “But I don’t know from where.”

  The man placed the palm of his hand to her forehead, a feeling of warmth running from head to toe. Rae saw a young boy, no older than ten, staring at her. She recognized her surroundings; she was surrounded by chaos at the carnival in the woods. The boy let his fangs drop from his gums and hissed at her before pouncing on her, tackling her to the ground. He dug his fangs into her neck, sucking the life out of her. When she opened her eyes, an elderly man was standing over her, picking her up.

  The warmth subsided and she was brought back to the curtained medical room. The doctor had made her lay down and she found herself staring at the murals on the ceiling.

  Rae saw cherubs and angels and high arches and pillars. She felt a light shock to her neck where the child had bit her, bringing her to reality.

  “Did you know what happened to you, dear?” the old man said.

  Rae shook her head, Elijah had told her nothing, just that she needed to rest. She brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

  “I don’t know why you feel you know me, but I promise you I am not someone to fear. Now, run along dear and I hope you start to feel better soon,” he said. He placed a hand on her knee, reassuring her.

  When she left, she felt tired, but tried not to let Christine know. Clara led them back through the water door, only this time it opened like normal. The girls looked at each other, confirming they saw the same thing.

  “It’s a test, something we use to determine whether someone is trustworthy here,” Clara said. She had a notebook clasped in her hands in front of her. “It’s hard to explain. Some people are drenched with water; others are…shocked and therefore deemed unworthy so to speak.”

  “I know it doesn’t make sense, but we can’t have people who delve into the dark arts here in this sanctuary,” she continued. “The Elders built this place many centuries ago so that magical beings who have nowhere else to go may come here, and be sheltered by the wards that have been placed on the grounds’ borders. Without this place, many of its inhabitants would not be here for one reason or another.”

  “That’s great, Clara, and we really appreciate you bringing us here, but is there any way you can take us back to our friends? We really don’t need another history lesson right now,” Christine said.

  Clara bowed her head, “Of course, right this way Christine.”

  She led the girls down a corridor with cement pillars on the left side every ten feet holding up the high ceiling. On their right, cobblestone walls with doors every so often formed the other wall.

  “This corridor was added on when the school needed to expand. As you can tell, the right side is aged and looks like an exterior wall, whereas the left wall is the interior wall. These pillars lined the exterior of the building many years ago. It wasn’t until around 1950 the building needed to be renovated to hold its inhabitants comfortably,” Clara explained. “You should see the school from the outside.”

  Two large double doors stood on the left, leading outside. When Clara opened the doors, a gust of wind filled the room. Her perfectly groomed bob haircut was windswept when she stepped out onto the veranda. Rae and Christine followed, noticing Micah was leaning against a tall white pillar atop a four-foot-tall concrete block.

  “It’s good to see you, ladies. I hope you are both feeling better,” Micah said. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the pillar, his green eyes searching the three women from head to toe. They darted from Christine to Clara and then to Rae, a cute grin on his face.

  “How did you get out here?” Clara asked. “I specifically told you to stay inside next to the door of the infirmary.”

  “Yes, but I got bored, so I decided to look around and I found this beaut
iful garden!” Micah said, opening his arms toward the yard.

  A cobblestone curved driveway met the bottom of the stairs, a large fountain in the center of the curve. A statue of what looked like Benedict was in the center of the fountain surrounded by small children. There were flowerpots along the base of the fountain, adding a little color to the scene. Along the curve of the driveway were large pillars holding up a tall vaulted overhang. The awning reached to the edge of the driveway, ensuring no sun reached the flowerbed around the fountain.

  On the other side of the fountain, where the curved driveway led, were two strips of gravel road leading to and from the school. Tall pine trees provided a refreshing scent that relaxed Rae. On either side of the fountain, a radiant garden of tulips and roses, gardenias and geraniums, provided a rainbow of color on the evergreen and bark backdrop of the forest.

  Rae and Christine tried to take the stairs down to the fountain but Clara stopped them, putting both her arms straight out to block the girls from leaving the porch.

  “This is as far as we go today, you asked me to take you back to your friends, and that is our next stop,” Clara said, turning around and prancing into the corridor.

  She took them straight and then turned down another better-lit corridor with bright paintings on the walls. More doors were apparent down this hallway than were in the other and the girls noticed students walking around, staring at them awkwardly and whispering.

  Up a flight of stairs and down another hallway, this time the doors were much closer together and there were only candles on the walls, no paintings, Clara led them to where they would stay for the evening. She opened two doors, one for Rae and one for Christine.

  “Here we are,” Clara said. “Now rest up. You both have a big day ahead of you tomorrow. Sala and I will be around later this evening to collect you and your friends for supper. But for now, please rest and we shall see you later tonight.”

  Clara left the girls in their rooms, proceeding to take Micah to his next. His room was on a separate floor, as were most of the male rooms in the Academy. Men and women were separated by floor, not condoning cohabitation. The only times the genders mixed was during training and during meals, if the students decided to dine together.

  Micah didn’t understand but followed his guide regardless. She knocked on a door, alerting his neighbor of his presence. A tall man with dark brown eyes and blond hair answered the door, looking Micah up and down before speaking.

  “Micah will be staying in the room next to you, please introduce yourself and help him out wherever he needs it,” Clara interrupted.

  “I’m not staying next to a vampire, I’m sorry,” the man said.

  “You have no choice, considering you’re a vampire as well. I’m sure you will have plenty to talk about, Clyde,” Clara said, turning to show Micah to his room. “Here is your room and your key. Your friends are across the hall and down a door or two. There are so many of you, but we don’t have any rooms to accommodate more than one inhabitant, it’s just how the Elders wanted it.”

  “I don’t mind the privacy,” Micah said, smiling at her. “Will you be around to collect us this evening?”

  Clara nodded, turning to leave, before Micah grabbed her arm. “I hope you know what your Elder is getting into. And everyone needs to prepare for the worst.” Micah’s breath was hot on her ear as he spoke.

  She yanked her arm out of his grip, straightening her skirt before walking away. The vampire Clyde stared at Micah with wide eyes.

  “That’s right little vampire boy, you heard me. You better sleep with one eye open, you never know what will go bump in the night,” Micah chuckled, closing the door behind him.

  Chapter 21

  Elijah sat on the couch, elbows resting on his thighs, his hands clasped in front of him. He stared at an object on the table, some crystal centerpiece with a wide base the color of coal and four pieces of glass that stretched to the ceiling. One was of a vine, green and brown in color. The second was blue and formed a wave one would surf on with white foam on it. The piece of glass beside that on a corner was shaped like a thin cloud and the final piece was a single red and gold flame. A sphere, gold and white in color, sat inside the glass figure. The centerpiece was only around twelve inches tall, but held so much beauty in it.

  Elijah thought about all the simple things that held so much beauty in his eyes. Like the mares grazing in the pasture at his family’s estate many years ago, or the drawing he once found of a young couple holding their children, both around the age of two or three. The children were twins, one boy and one girl, who wore peasants clothing. The collars of their blouses were ripped, the man a button or two on his. The children had dirt on their faces, and the girl’s hair was tangled. He remembered seeing the drawing by the bedside of Lana when she was staying at the Jacobs’ estate to recover after an illness took her strength.

  He never asked her about the drawing, mostly because he knew it wasn’t his place to ask of her past for she always avoided the subject like the plague. Elijah bowed his head, visions of Lana and of his family surfacing after many years of him subduing them, forgetting any of them ever existed. The air grew cold and Elijah could feel a breeze coming from behind him.

  “Don’t be alarmed, it’s just me,” EJ said when Elijah turned around, standing and backing into the glass table. The centerpiece toppled over and rolled off the table, shattering on the ground.

  “I knew the couch was too close to the table but you never listen to me,” Era said, putting her hands on her hips.

  “You know better than to talk to me like that,” EJ said, walking down the hallway away from her and Elijah.

  “Where have you all been?” Elijah asked, following the Fury.

  “Dimitri had Rachel take us to the alternate location,” EJ said quietly. “I was sent back to bring you and the girl back with me. Has she woken yet?”

  They stopped in front of the door to her room, EJ waiting for an answer before proceeding.

  “No, she’s still recovering from the last few nights,” Elijah answered.

  A shriek rang through the hollow hallway, echoing off the walls. Era was pushed into the wall behind her, slumping to the ground, looking up when a man stood over her.

  The men snuck into Lana’s room before they could see what he would do to EJ’s Diviner. Lana was sitting up in bed, spinning a piece of jewelry around her finger when they entered.

  “Lana, get dressed quickly, we need to get out of here,” EJ said, looking in the closet for any clothing she could put on before their unwelcome guest barged in. He tried to be quiet in an attempt not to alarm the visitor.

  Elijah heard footsteps on the other side of the door, a shadow eliminating the light beneath the door. Elijah moved closer to the closet, EJ beside Lana. The doorknob shook, turned, and opened. The room was empty.

  EJ and Lana appeared next to Era in the living room, EJ taking her hand. The three disappeared in a white haze before the visitor, a dark-haired man with gray streaks, his hair slicked back with too much hair product, stepped out of the room. Elijah stepped behind the man, placing both hands on either side of his face and snapping his neck.

  He stepped over the corpse, walking toward the living room. The man grabbed his ankle, sending a shock through his body. He crumpled to the ground, looking at the man who stood and wiped off his jacket. The man tilted his head from right to left, letting the cartilage crack.

  “You really need to be more creative in the way you try to kill people,” the man said with a European accent. “It’s really quite pathetic.”

  EJ and the girls stood in the stairwell leading to the basement, listening for any indication of life above them. He placed his index finger to his lips to silence their sobs, their fears. Era’s body shook, Lana drew her closer to comfort her. Although she was afraid as well, she knew someone needed to be strong. He left in a cloud of white smoke, leaving the girls defenseless.

  “Come out, come out wherever you are!” the Eng
lishman laughed. He had a thick black beard laced with salt colored speckles. Wearing a leather jacket and black motorcycle boots, he walked heavy footed through the living room, flipping tables and slamming chairs against the walls. He knelt to admire the fallen glass sculpture near the couch, taking a variety of colored glass in the palm of his hand.

  “Fire,” he said as he dropped the orange glass piece. “Water,” to the wave. “Air,” to the cloud, “Earth,” to the vine.

  He took the gold sphere in his hand, admiring its pearl facade. He cranked his right arm back and forward, releasing the sphere from his hand. It shattered against the concrete mantle, a velvet covered cube falling to the ground. The velvet was the color of royal indigo, with green vine, red flame, white cloud and blue water drop embroidery decorating the outside of the box.

  The man stepped forward, taking the box in his hand. He opened it, only to find it empty. The slit in the foam where a ring would sit had a small indentation within, indicating a ring had once been in the box for many years.

  “They found her,” he whispered. He felt a cool breeze wash over him, and heard the glass doors from the balcony entrance slam against the wall, shattering on contact. The chandelier above the man jingled and swung back and forth in the wind, the hinges mounted to the ceiling squealing in protest. The bolts shot out from the hinges, letting gravity bring the chandelier toward the floor.

  He jumped to the side, rolling over the back of the couch, before the chandelier shattered the glass table.

  “Is that the best you’ve got?” he yelled.

  EJ appeared, white dust spiraling around his hands. “Now that you mention it, no.”

  The glass pieces from the table spiraled into a tornado, sending shards of metal and glass hurtling toward the intruder. He tried to block the attack, rolling to the side. Shards grazed the leather of his jacket, barely damaging the material. The tornado formed back up, sucking in other pieces of debris from the damaged furniture; two splintered pieces of wood from the dining table flew toward him at 50 miles per hour, breaking into pieces on contact with his thigh.