Forum Thread

"Of course! I always keep my promises, after all!"

He punched the air, practicing.

"Hm, which style... I think the Pure Heavenly arts should do it, right?"

He was muttering to himself again.

"Iron Fist style... Thunder Dragon style... no, Light is an attribute that goes well with my sword aura and lightning magic..."

---

"Um, ok. Thanks, I guess." The hell was wrong with her! After literally spending weeks on speaking classes, she couldn't get a single word right.

---

He smiled cheerfully.

"No need for apologies!"

He continued punching the air, a white light surrounding his fists.

"It's not a problem! Congratulations, by the way. You've been paired up with the best teacher in the entirety of this school. How lucky, you are."

---

"Thanks... I guess I better go." Walking as fast as she could and then sprinting out of the training grounds, Athena arrived back at her dorm in a matter of seconds. She didn't stop to take a breath till she was safely inside, the door locked and barricaded. Then she collapsed on her bed and stared up at the ceiling of swirling flourescent light.

Why'd everything have to go so wrong?

---

He laughed. He didn't turn, continuing to punch the air. After a moment, he stopped. He didn't turn, taking off the gauntlets. He spoke.

"... Is there something you need me for, Jack?"

he spoke quietly, a far cry from his usual loud, brash behavior. His smile was hollow, tired. He ran a finger over the scar across his neck.

"...I'm so tired, Jack. Everything feels so... empty."

---

*Magius then got shot by an unknown sniper*
“AAAAAAAAAAHHH-
Oh right, I forgot that I’m a ghost…”

---

Sobble gets a bowl of piping hot spaghetti and an icy cup of lemonade with 3 ice cubes as always. "Nice, my signature meal. I love spaghetti and lemonade. Well I guess it's time to dig in." While Sobble ate the spaghetti like a civilised person (What were you expecting?), he saw someone staring at him while they ate their meals. "Well, that's intimidating. I should finish this meal soon." Sobble picked up the pace and scarfed down the spaghetti along with the icy cold lemonade now a bit warmer as the ice melted. "Welp I'm out of here." Sobble quickly paces through the door not even taking a look behind him.

---

"See, here's the thing..." Jack started, walking over to Kendo. "We're going to talk. Right here, right now. Which means we also need to think up some excuse for missing the first classes of the semester." She smiled at him, a tinge of sadness buried in the corners of her eyes.

Jack sat on the training center floor, patting the ground next to her for Kendo to sit. Athena had run out of the center; Jack could tell that the girl had gotten distracted. She had hit the princess with a jet of flame. That was likely punishable by death, but Athena didn't seem the type to hold grudges for something like that. Kendo though... He looked miserable.

"This conversation, I think, is overdue. I've been waiting for you to come to me, which I realize now was a mistake... I just wasn't sure if you would want my help."

She paused. And then, Jack cast a muffling spell on the area around them. No one would hear what she had to say.

"Let me tell you... a story."

Jack closed her eyes, remembering. She couldn't expect Kendo to trust her if she continued to keep her secrets close. Besides, he deserved to know. The two of them were more similar than Kendo knew.

"Maybe you don't remember, but I was a bit of a black sheep when we first came to the school. It was the older students mostly, they thought I was... cursed. It didn't spread much beyond them, and all the suspicion was squashed by third year. Stereotypes and discrimination... But no one else ever knew why."

"Tell me Kendo, do you remember the Scarlet Lily Plague? We were toddlers at the time, and it was a distant memory."

When the flash of recognition never came, Jack continued.

"The Scarlet Lily Plague was a deadly disease that ravaged the Ebridean countryside, a small hilly region in the Northern Plains. It killed thousands of the ordinaries, the nonmagicals. The royal guard was able to effectively quarantine the region, and it never spread into any main cities of the kingdom."

"But the reason it was so deadly was because it could only be healed by magic-to-magic healing. This art heals through a combination of magic from the healer and the healed. The union of two magics was the only spell strong enough to defeat the plague, so the cure only worked to cure the magical people. The disease was resilient. The ordinaries died in droves."

"The first week, you would never know that you were infected. It sneaks into your system subtlety, gaining a foothold inside your body. You begin to feel achy the second week, the first physical sign. Perhaps you have a headache to go with it. Exhaustion and fatigue slowly begin to consume you. The third week, the fever comes. Climbing higher and hotter as the days go on, that's when you know death is coming closer. Your cheeks flush red, turning scarlet as your forehead burns up. At this point, your hair has also started to fade, turning grey and then white at first glance, but it takes on a distinct reddish tinge. It's now obvious you have the plague. Even if you're hungry, you can't imagine eating. Using the energy it takes to simply swallow a mouthful of water quickly becomes impossible. The fourth week is when you die. Your fever reaches a boiling point, dehydration sets in. Even breathing hurts. You begin to cough blood, the dry air and metallic fluid painfully rattling through your dying form. Eventually, your body shuts down. Death is painful."

Jack paused.

"The guards came to our villages, acting as a barrier to the spread of the plague. They were all magical. The guards brought their healers with them, and each night, they would be healed, plagued or not. But there were barely enough healers for the platoons. Any magical folk that got the plague had to pay exorbitant fees for healing. The plague was extremely contagious, and the average magical had to be healed two dozen times."

"Manning the borders quickly became a coveted job. The guards additionally needed to deal with the bodies, as they quickly began piling up. They patrolled the towns, looking for people who showed symptoms. They devised a magical symbol to denote the infected: a red "x" layered over a star. From a distance, it could be mistaken for a lily."

"But here's where the stigma came from: a man called Arioch Iskander. He was ordinary, and he was infected. Witnesses said they saw the scarlet haired man innocently touch a patrolling magical, killing the guard instantly. Iskander was healed, and he became magical. The guards put him to death, but the damage had been done. Rumors flew around the kingdom, terror of the plague intensified. No one, of course, knows if it was true. What everyone does agree on is that Iskander died laughing."

"The world freaked out. Treatment of the infected became brutal. All of the poorest plague survivors were easily identifiable because of their pale red hair, and they fell under suspicion."

Jack stared off into space.

"My family lived in the Ebridean countryside," she whispered. "They died from the plague. I was three. The final gift they gave to me was the disease. At the beginning of the third week, I began turning red. That's what we all called it. They left me on the streets where a guard found me. He dragged me kicking and screaming into the advanced stage quarantine zone, swearing all the while. 'Stop your whining, you little sh!t. You'll see them soon enough. You only have two weeks left to live, anyway.' I'll remember him and his face forever, branded into my memory. It was one of the first times I felt truly powerless."

The ghost of a smile crossed her face.

"But even at three I was resourceful. It took me time, but I made sure I wasn't going to die. I had control of all my parents' old possessions. I knew how money worked. The lily faded, signifying I was cured, and they allowed me safe passage out of the countryside. But since the plague progressed to week three, a few locks of my hair had started to turn red. By the time I was five, I had figured out how to cut the red bits, and brush the black over it. I wandered through the land, disappearing from town to town. Eventually, in a place where no one knew me, I found work. I honed my magic. I was accepted into the institute."

"At first, no one knew. But one day, I was clumsy. Amusing how falling down the stairs would ruin my life. My hair blew back, and the older students that stopped to help me saw. The whispers came back, and this time, there was nowhere for me to run to. I learned a glamour spell the next day that I maintain constantly: black hair is safety. It's anonymity, it's invisibility. They all pretty much graduated by our third year. Kindly enough, they didn't pass the information on to the lower years."

"I resolved to never be powerless again. It became hard opening up to people. Especially after fifth year-"

She coughed into her elbow. She remembered the dry blood of the plague, her limbs each feeling like a thousand pounds.

"But that's another story."

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

"I trust you, Kendo. I care about you. I want to help you. Do you remember MaryAnn Salcedo? She became that person for me. She was the only person I ever shed a tear for at graduation… She made me realize emotions aren't weakness. She made me realize it's okay to feel empty. It's your friends, the people who care about you, who will fill you back up."

Jack grinned, reaching over and squeezing Kendo's shoulder.

"So Kendo, will you tell me what's going on?"

---

Emika was in a classroom, filing her nails impatiently...

Eris watched the other first years from a corner of the hall...

---

“Hmm…


Welp, I’m very bored…


!!!

I KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!”

---

"...It's so empty. Everything is so meaningless. I just... I can't find a reason to wake up in the morning. I can't find a reason to try at all. It's always just... so cold, Jack."

His smile was empty. His cheerful, peppy tone was replaced by a defeated, tired one.

"And... over the summer?"

He traced a finger across the scar on his neck.

"I got sick of it all."

He laughed.

"Is there anyone who would miss me, anyways?"

---

*Magius then summons some demons from Demon Slayer, including the Demon King himself, MICHAEL JACKSON-

I mean, Muzan Kibutsuji*

---

"Kendo, I would miss you. I would miss you so much." She said quietly. "And this emptiness...it's chasing you, isn't it?"

She looked at him intently. "Thank you for trusting me."

Jack squeezed Kendo's hand. She wanted to help, her first instinct to fix (always to fix). But Kendo wasn't another broken toy. Jack decided to share the advice MaryAnn had whispered so long ago.

"I turn the darkness into a person. A spector. No matter how far or fast you run, it will always be there, always be a part of you. But there are ways to learn to ignore it, to say 'I don't need to pay attention to you every minute of the day.' You're can't suppress it either, it will just return with a vengeance. The only way to overcome is to merely acknowledging it and moving on. I'd... I'd be lying if I said that I never thought about doing what you thought about."

What Kendo tried. Jack looked Kendo in the eye.

"But I found someone to talk to when I needed it most. I'm not perfect, and I've still been putting what I learned into use everyday. But it gets a little easier."

She leaned over and hugged him. (not romantically.)

"Tell me what you're thinking."

---

"Which part of it? Im thinking a lot, right now."

He tried to push her away, but he decided that it felt good to be hugged, for once.

---

"Just walk me through it all. Emotions, thoughts memories, epiphanies... Anything."

She continued to speak quietly.

"Help me to help you."

---

"Emotions? There's not much there."

He smiled.

"I just feel... cold. That's about it."

He let out a laugh, bitter and harsh.

"Thoughts and memories... thoughts? Being hugged isn't too bad. Memories? There's a lot to unpack there."

He tugged at the pink friendship bracelet around his wrist.

"Where to start? The day I became an orphan? The day I got kidnapped by cultists? What do you want tk know, Jack?"

---

"Take your time. We have all day. I want to understand."

Jack was prepared to wait all day if needed. Neither of them needed these classes. Neither of them needed a redundant education.

---

Atticus silently watched everything going on at the campus with a frown on his face. It seemed everyone was with someone else talking. He had left the hall and climbed up to it's roof and silently watched everything, the breezes ruffling his hair. Jack had told him that if he needed to talk to anyone, he could talk to her, but his motives were far too complicated to say.

He didn't know what to make of it himself. Part was hating his father for the pain and suffering, but another part of it was his cowardice in everything. Making friends, standing up for himself, dancing at the ball...

I shouldn't be doing this. Lying and going behind people's backs is a terrible thing to do. Murder is too. Homicide, patricide. If I'm caught, what will I do?

His nails were dug into his palm, blood seeping out of the cracks between each digit. Memories of his father yelling at him not to cry flashed throughout his mind.

"Fine. I won't cry."

He laughed, a smile creeping up on his face, but still, his eyes remained angry.

---

"Well then... I guess I'll start at the beginning."

He was not ready for this.

"So, my parents were poor. That meant I was poor. We were in serious debt. My parents were good people, though. They were only in debt due to certain... situations. Anyways, these guys who my parents owed money to? They killed them. I was nine. My sister was 1. Did I mention I have a sister? Well, I have one. Her name's Lydia. I'll introduce her to you at some point. She's a sweet girl."

---

Athena headed to class, and maintained her usual cheerfulness, on the outside, at least. But if you probed just a little deeper, it was quite obvious her mind was somewhere else.

She'd started the year all wrong. It was hard to separate blunders from honest mistakes. Letting her guard down was a blunder. Shouting at Kendo... That one was harder. She'd gotten rusty from not being challenged for so long. But she also shouldn't have been so easily provoked. Then there was just now, which was simply embarassing.
It was a fact that Kendo frustrated her. There was something about him, which both drew her to him and pushed her away. Something she couldn't figure out.
She needed to stop getting distracted, and to concentrate on the task at hand. Stop worrying about Kendo. And preferably find a way to treat him like a normal person.
And she needed to check her diplomatic skills.

---