Wielder of Steel

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Wielder of Steel

FLINT

I dined with my friends feeling at the top of the world after the fiasco outside the other night. Sasha was able to snatch a thick juicy slab of steak that made my hands ache in its weight. Andrew and the boys kept pulling and poking my newfound horns while Piper snapped a few photos for herself. The school was buzzing with the outburst from a senior. Apparently some venom-based injuries had made him snap, but they caught the infection before it spread to his organs. It sounded like rabies to me but I shrugged it off. I'm just glad the fucker- who I learned is named Ayron- didn't touch me. But the girl is a different story.

I stretch on my bed, watching the sun peak through the clouds. It's been a week since Ayron's attack and I still find myself thinking about it. It's been a week. I haven't seen him on campus or in the infirmary. The academy probably sent him home to heal in the comfort of his family. I tried asking about what caused his episode. I wanted to avoid it in case I snapped like that too. Donnic interjected and gave a lecture on a beast called aldarar. It's a dark soul consuming creature that takes the shape of your fears in order to paralyze you and dig its sharp talons into exposed flesh. The venom from its claws will eat away at a person's blood stream until they lose all sense of meaning. Donnic described it as a parasytic creature of pure fuck-that. It deprives the host of much needed oxygen causing hallucinations, fatigue, unpredictable mood swings, and loss of awareness. That's how it kills its prey. Slowly and painful with time through an infected wound in order to receive the most energy from its victim. The girl, Sharice, is fortunate. Infections from aldarars are not contagious through a victim. You can only catch it if you've been exposed to their venom-laced claws.

I just hope I never see anything like that again.

He further explained that the school has an assigned purification team that hunts down traces of aldarar. Donnic chuckled in amusement. He knew what I was about to ask and explained. The purity group, which is Farouts, are basically a bunch of deranged students who are either after the thrill of nearly dying or the chunky stipend for each kill. Makes sense now why Verity would be the leader.

I felt more settled. It was nice walking around the school and not sticking out for once. Since my horns came in, I've received fewer stares from those around me. Almost like the student body accepts me. I fell asleep quickly after refreshing myself once the boys and I returned. Nothing could ruin that night.

But I'm starting to realize the inconveniences of not being able to recede my horns. I don't think they can go back. My horns get stuck on everything; the doorways, cabinets, shower rack to name a few. I'll have to start going to bed shirtless because my horns gave me hell while undressing. I'd find it comical if I didn't have to ask Blake to rip my good shirt off of my horns this morning.

I get dressed and slip my shoes on. I begin to follow a strict routine in the morning. Wake up an hour before class to shower, brush my teeth, and find something edible in the cafeteria. The next couple of days are repeated. I've spent my classes trying to soak in the material. Lucian spent the week belting about the coven and its divinity. He agreed to pull my mom's time capsule so that I could open it since she couldn't. Geraldine is briefing me over my pronunciation and vowels. Mr. Heeler appears to have very little concept of the weapons class. I think Wrath and Bellwether- one of Wrath's goons- are more bothered by it than anyone. I'm learning how to make the base for basic level one potions thanks to Gurely.

I've discovered that my Astral Physics teacher is a titan who humbles herself in the form of a seven foot tall and attractive woman. Ms. Astraios is a devoted lover of the stars even so that she wears a garment coated in seguin that resembles the gemini constellation. A circular crown rests on her head with a single golden star shaped like the sun in the center. The headwear really brought out her copper-colored eyes. Ms. Astraios's black bobbed hair is pinned back with silver crescent moon clips.

She carries a celestial sphere around, broadcasting fixed stars on the globe. It's her pride and joy. Her lesson for the week was star crossed lovers tale; Altair and Vega. Two points in the Summer Triangle. The daughter of the Sky King who fell in love and promised a mortal they would be joined in the heavens as husband and wife. Except the sky king disapproved of their behavior. Thus, he ended their tale of love by separating them with the celestial river.

I didn't give two shits about stars till I had to study an astral course. It has everything to do with listening to a gorgeous woman with nice knockers that might make you weak in the knees and mind. It could be my favorite class now.

Intro to herbology was a trip. Mr. Smee is a force to be reckoned with. Smee is a friendly gargoyle which I didn't think existed thanks to Wrath. He spoke about herbal creatures that leave vital medicine for a Mythicae's bile sac repair if ever needed. It was nice listening to the stone beast talk about smaller life forms in a loving manner.

The man is high off of his own greenery. He holds an infectious smile that pulls you in with his genuine love for life. I'd say he's the most normal baked mythical that lives here. By the time his class is over, I force myself to not roll in the snow to dull the smell of sweetness from his flower collection or the earthy herb stench.

It's a shame I only have astral and herbology for two days out of the week. The last two courses are Mythicae's History and Dybbuk & Social Interactions. Kilborn- Mythicae's Historian professor- is a high elven fae. It's undeniable by the sharp point of his thin pale ears. History is a thorn in my ass ever since Kilborn learned I'm roomed with Andrew. The man is a beefy five foot nine inches of pure bitterness. Can't say I wasn't expecting it though.

I survived a week of classes. But now that it's Monday, I'm dreading Dominus Armorum. Heeler says we're starting with the Wielder of Steel room. From there, he will assign freshmen with superiors as means to mentor. I've heard Bellwether speculate that the buddy system is so Heeler doesn't flunk out by the end of the year.

Sounds plausible.

After lunch, I cut my way towards Kiner Stadium. The hall is empty and the home room is lifeless. I entered the wielder room. Its vast open space has walls covered in weaponry in all shapes, sizes and materials. The wielder room is minimalistic to say the least, but it's heavily decorated in a thousand ways to kill someone. It's a good thing that Grimm assigns healers to attend dominus whenever class is outside of the homeroom.

The students were quick to not stay in one place as they roamed the inventory. The room is filled with different emotions that range from acceptance, rejection and longing. One girl held onto a sword with a splintering red tongue that dropped from its steel blade. The weapon's gray lips cackled, reminding me of a hyena. She cuts the air with its sharp blade and hums in satisfaction when the sword accepts her. I don't try to avoid staring. The sword found its master.

An arm wraps around my shoulder followed by a low snarl. I turn my gaze to see a girl, Robyn King, with brown hair link herself to me. Her eyes burn a fluorescent hue and she smiles brightly at me. If there's one thing about the women here, they don't give a shit who they bother or rile up. I can see Bellwether foaming at the mouth when he sees us joined. Robyn tugs lightly at my horn and teases, "you ready to find your soulmate, Flint?"

Since I've started Dominus, the students around me have slowly begun to accept me. I have Verity to thank for that. Many of them think I bewitched her with my "human charm" or possess an untapped strength inside that captured the blue raven's attention. Some students, like Robyn, enjoy accompanying me despite the failures I can never shy from. I think I'm their free entertainment since we don't' have television in Mythicae.

I nodded, following the elf I've befriended. "Sure."

Robyn leads me to a showcase filled to the brim of javelins, swords in every size, axes, and more. Robyn begins explaining that longswords would be a good introduction. It's a versatile weapon wielded with two strands of magic to boost its holder's momentum. I don't see a pair of lips or tongue on the sword and find that to be comforting. She moves on to another case with me at her heels.

Out of all the impressive weaponry choices, Robyn stops at the smallest case. She beckons me to join her side and points to a heart dagger. Disappointment claws my chest when the lid chims and opens at the touch of my hands. "Well, well," Robyn said amused. "It looks like you've been chosen. Don't worry, you will have multiple weapon choices as time goes. Your inventory will flourish, but you should never disrespect the weapon that chose you first. It's bad luck."

I nodded, picking up the blade embedded with red swirls on its darkened handle. I'm not a stranger to bad luck. "How am I supposed to train with this? I can't actually use this. It's a close range."

Robyn closes the lid. "That's the point. Weapons can only carry you so far until you surpass its meaning of use. Train your body before a weapon."

With that, the two of us move into an opening of the field. Robyn instructs me to correct my stance. She even goes so far as to kick my heels when I wobble or hold my weight incorrectly. Her method of teaching is painful, but Robyn explains to me that the original professor was a legend. Robyn, a sophmore, went down the rabbit hole talking about a man named Au. No one knows why he wasn't the instructor this year. The vampire has been teaching for centuries.

"If your stance isn't correct, you'll be on your ass a lot faster than you'd like." Robyn shouts over the clash of iron. Students are sparing around us despite Heeler's absence.

Sparks are flying between Bellwether and Wrath. The two friends are going at each other with pulsating force. Just when I expect one of them to kick the other to the ground, they uno a move and strike at their friend. They fight effortlessly. Their blades hiss when the steel collides together from brutal blows. I don't want to cross either of them. I'd lose my head.

Robyn continues, "if you're off balance, it's game over. It's all about shifting your weight and keeping your guard up. Your eyes should be looking right at the person's chest. That way you can see their hips, leg movements and arms too. Let's practice."

I turned my attention to her. Did she just invite me to stare at her rack? I bite the inside of my cheek. That's a creepy thing to rationalize with. She's just trying to help. Something a lot of mythicals refuse to think of just from the sight of a halfling. If Heeler partners us up, it'll provide her with extra marks to continue her educational accomplishments. And I won't have to worry about my mentor trying to kill me.

I nodded and took the stance she's desperately tried teaching me. My back is straightened with my shoulders pulled back. The dagger rests in my hand. It's hard case acts as a protective barrier since I don't actually need to use it in a training session. This thing is deadly, but only if you're skilled enough to get close without being pummeled in the process. I don't know why it chose me. I'm useless to it at the moment. Robyn explains that once I'm skilled, my weight will become an advantage I can use. Larger and heavier opponents possess harder strikes they can land to overthrow their enemy.

A wicked smile appears on Robyn's face. She challenges me with a sickeningly sweet laugh. "Land a hit on me."

It doesn't take long for me to realize I never stood a chance. No matter what I do, she's too fast for me. When I think I'm close to touching her, she nicks my ankles and sends me on my ass. Dust rises at my recent fall, and she tilts her head beaming.

"You were close that time!"

I don't see it that way. I lift myself up, patting the dust off my slacks. I began to start my stance again but stopped when I saw a growing figure settle behind my instructor. His eyes burn through me, and I have to fight the urge to snarl back at him when he bears his teeth.

Bellwether placed his unwanted hand on Robyn's shoulder who was still in discomfort, "take five, Robyn. I want a piece of the fresh meat."

Robyn joins a row of students on the side. Her hands are shaking from the sight of the reptilian fae. Bellwether has been training since highschool like Verity and Wrath. He possesses a huge advantage I could never achieve. He's going to pulverize my bones to ashes. Maybe even chew on my bone marrow as a savory treat.

Bellwether doesn't bother giving me a warning or letting me know he's planned to strike. He lurges forward with a closed fist. His knees part, and I watch his chest as I dodge. His feet are aimed towards my right and I plan to avoid him by going left. In his right palm, he holds the head of a large longsword. He tilts the blade so that the light bounces off of it and aims the light for my eyes. I squint trying to watch his chest and dodge him. My eyes are stinging from the exposure. Then it hits me. His closed fist joins my face.

One moment I'm facing a pretty girl. Making jokes and learning at a steady pace about placement and weight management. Next, I'm on my ass with a swollen eye and blood trickling down my brow from the reptilian beast hovering over me. I can hear Robyn shriek and the gasps that follow from other students. Minnow is on the edge once again with streaked lipstick and pudgy eyes. She looks like she's been crying.

I finally spot Heeler who's watching at the other side. He does nothing but watches like a professor who lacks the knowledge to teach. Useless bastard.

The students are whispering now. I probably look like an idiot to them. A warm hand wraps around my arm, pulling me gently to my feet. I can't process what's going on but I feel warmth radiate from my savior. A blinding smile registers and I look down at a sea of gorgeous drowning blue.

"Mediocre as always, Bellwether. Must you fight so hard to feel like a man by attacking a beginner. It's disrespectful to our beloved art."

"Fuck off," he snarled quietly at his new opponent.

"I can't do that if you're trying to break my new prize," the voice joked lightly. This only angers him more. I don't know why or care to know. My head is on fire.

My liberator signals students to come to my aid. I recognize Robyn as she helps me off the field with another student. I should thank them for pulling me away. I wince when a healer cups my bruised face into his hands and magics away the nasty kiss of hatred Bellwether bestowed upon me.

I turn to watch the fight about to commence in my honor. Horror rakes over me when I recognize my savior. Verity steps towards Bellwether and her blue locks are pulled back into a tight ponytail behind her earmuffs. Why the hell did she step in? I haven't seen her in the class to begin with. She must be snuck in after the bell. Verity holds a sickle in each hand. Her single handed sickles have a deep curve to its blades. Almost like it was designed to hook. Red ribbon is wrapped around the handles of the shining weapons that she holds proudly. She's smiling with the ferocious bloodthirsty look I've come to accept.

"How about you fight someone on your level, Bellwether?" Verity said with a light chuckle. "Oh, wait."

He steps back from her. Even going so far as to glance around for Wrath's help. For once, I think Wrath isn't amused by his buddy. He looks pissed off and avoids my gaze. Robyn informs me that Bellwether is a reptoid. He's of fae kind with the ability to regenerate his body if there's subliminal damage done to it. Verity is only high fae. She's of pure blood from the fae King lineage. While she's powerful, it still leaves her at a disadvantage. Bellwether is twice her size and strength.

Verity moves forward. She flicks her wrists causing the thin blades to spark when they collide together. The ting of metal resonates through the stadium. I don't see how the sickles will win the fight against a longsword. The close range and lack of thickness seem to be a huge disadvantage. Her blades might be enough to scratch his skin, but not enough to hurt him. Bellwether stops. He holds his ground with a low growl puncturing the air.

"What are you on about now, woman?"

"How about a friendly duel?" She said, shifting her head to the side. Verity bashes her lashes trying to appear innocent. An identical mannerism I've noticed Minnow use. "First one to draw blood with a blade wins. The winner takes the loser's blade."

Bellwether laughs and holds his sword to his chest. "Sure. I've been dying for a challenge."

This earned a devious smile from her. "I'm sure you have."

Before Heeler can interject and do his job, the two spare off each other in crashing waves of violence. Despite Verity's disadvantages against her larger opponent, she moves effortlessly avoiding his grazes. Sparks are flying from where their blades connect, and the stadium ruptures in screams of pure entertainment.

It's gonna be a fucking bloodbath.