Swan jumped up from the floor, not waiting for help. His face was burning, whether from the scrape on his leg or from fury.
"Just who the hell are you?!" he spat, almost poking his finger at me.
"What do you mean, 'who am I'?" I lazily adjusted my blindfold. "A student. A newbie. An invalid, after all. What kind of stupid questions are these, Swan? You just need to learn how to lose with dignity."
The other kids froze, looking at me with a mixture of suspicion and fear. And I stood there thinking, Damn, if I'm pretending at such a ridiculous level and I'm already being suspected—is there even any point in sticking around here? Essentially, I'm only here because of Aurora. And she, unlike these kids, is much stronger than all of them put together.
Trioro stood up, dusting off his pants.
"Alright, Zenhald. A bet is a bet. I'm heading to the kitchen, come by this evening."
"Looking forward to it," I performed a mock bow. "For the sake of your pie, I'm ready to survive a couple more 'exciting' duels like this."
When the crowd dispersed, only Aurora and I were left in the empty hall. She stood by the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, watching me with her unreadable gaze.
"Well, how did I do?" I tried to lighten the mood. "Come on, admit it, I'm cool, right?"
"Why are you holding back your power?" her question sounded sharp, like a whip crack. "Why don't you show them what you're really capable of?"
"It's just..." I shrugged. "If I show too much, it'll start: questions, interrogations, suspicions... I don't need that. Extra attention means extra work. And I like to sleep."
Aurora took a step toward me. Her voice became quieter, but heavier.
"Are you... afraid of being rejected by people?"
That question stung somewhere deep inside. Right into the soul, into its darkest, dustiest part. Afraid? Me?
"Maybe. I don't know," I answered, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
She merely sighed, turning away.
"If the teachers here are at the same level as these 'masters,' then we are wasting our time."
With those words, she left the hall. She was probably right. But her words kept spinning in my head like a broken record. Afraid of being rejected...
I was left alone in the room. The silence began to press on my ears, and suddenly, in the corner, in the thick shadows, someone's silhouette began to manifest. The figure appeared out of nowhere: a man in a lotus position, methodically and deeply breathing the air.
"Playing the fool again, Zenhald?" a quiet, painfully familiar voice rang out. "And what is all this for?"
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I didn't even turn around. I knew that voice.
"Look at them," the figure continued. "Look at the state they're in. You can help them. You can change everything."
"They'll manage on their own," I grumbled. "And if they don't manage, then that's fate. Sad, of course, but what can you do."
The figure opened one eye. There was no anger in his gaze, only endless exhaustion.
"'What can you do'? In your case, that doesn't work. You know you have the power to fix this, to make the world better..."
"Shut up!" I cut him off sharply. "You don't even exist. I'm just talking to myself. And since I'm talking to myself, that means I'm always right. Begone."
The figure sighed heavily and slowly dissolved into the air, leaving behind only a faint smell of ozone. And who was that? My memory? My conscience? Or just a hallucination from sleep deprivation?
I walked up to the door and pulled it open sharply. Aurora stood on the threshold. She was looking at me somewhat askance, squinting suspiciously.
"Who were you talking to in there?" she asked.
"Nobody," I quickly slipped past her. "You imagined it. The walls in this building just have a weird echo."
I headed to my room at almost a run.
I entered the room. Shish was sitting on the windowsill looking suspiciously pleased—judging by his round belly, the little ones had already fed him something. I picked up the furry lump and placed him on my shoulder. The cat immediately dug his claws into my new t-shirt and began to purr.
"Zenhald..." Grit approached me, shifting from foot to foot. "I was told to pass on... you're being transferred. To the seniors' room. With Trioro and the others."
He held out his hand. Sadness could be read in his eyes—it seemed I was the most interesting event for him during his entire stay in this "kindergarten."
"Congratulations," he added quietly.
I shook his hand. The handshake felt strange—as if I was saying goodbye to someone I'd known for eternity, even though we'd only known each other for a day. Déjà vu pricked my mind again. How many times had I packed my bags and left like this? Hundreds? Thousands? The faces blurred into one gray mass.
"Thanks, Grit. Good luck to you here."
I needed to breathe. The school walls were starting to press in on me, resembling a prison. I went out into the courtyard—a massive space dropping off right into the sea. The wind brought the smell of salt and rotting seaweed. I went down to the very edge of the shore and sat on the warm sand. Shish jumped off my shoulder, hunted an imaginary fly for a bit, and settled down nearby, pressing against my thigh.
The sun rolled slowly toward the horizon, dyeing the water the color of clotted blood. Beautiful. And very familiar. I think I've seen this sunset in another world. Or in another life.
"Even you're leaving..." I murmured, addressing the sun.
It didn't answer. It was just doing its job—dying so it could be born again tomorrow and burn my eyes.
I leaned back, lying on the sand. My thoughts were tangled. Sometimes it seemed to me that I was just a set of pictures that someone had accidentally scattered on the floor. Where was the beginning? Where was the end?
The rays of the setting sun hit me right in the face, seeping through the blindfold. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a pleasant warmth on my eyelids. In this warmth, there were no voices, no ghosts of the past. Only the sound of the surf and the measured breathing of the cat. I fell into a heavy, viscous sleep right there on the shore.
POV: Zagria
Aurora and I stood by the window of our room. It offered an excellent view of the coastline. I peered at the dark dot on the sand.
"Is he... sleeping?" I turned to Aurora in surprise. "It's not even evening yet. The sun hasn't set."
"If he has nothing to do, he sleeps," Aurora replied briefly.
She stood motionless, keeping her eyes on Zenhald.
"He's weird," I sighed. "He seems strong, but he acts like he doesn't care about anything. Sleeping on the sand like a vagrant."
I didn't bother asking what a fifteen-year-old kid could possibly be so tired from. Instead, I clapped my hands:
"Alright! Let's go help Trioro. He promised to bake the best pie of his life, and knowing him, it'll take an eternity if we don't help out with the dough."
Aurora cast one more quick glance at Zenhald sleeping below, and then nodded.
"Okay. Let's go."
We left the room.