Her feet clacked against the stone floor, echoing through the large halls. The excruciating pain in her chest increased as her breathing grew heavy and irregular. Sweat was beading on her forehead, glistening for a second in a faint ray of light that found its way in through the multi-colored windows.

Cheria changed direction, heading toward a narrow path. She went through another door and climbed a pair of stairs with unusual haste, as if her life depended on it. She wanted to stop and rest, as her legs were constantly threatening to buckle under her; but she knew that if she gave in to the exhaustion that assaulted her muscles, or even slowed down her current pace by just a bit, her pursuers would catch up in no time.

Frowning, Cheria bit her lower lip in frustration as she heard the voices closing in behind her. Brushing aside a strand of crimson hair, she burst through another door, stumbling into a crowd of students walking across a wide hall. She narrowed her eyes for a moment and then took a deep breath, charging through the crowd, narrowly avoiding bumping into a senior. Amidst all the noises, she couldn't tell if the voices were still following her; but she chose not to spare that another thought. Reaching the girls' dormitory was more important.

When an opening for a break came at last, Cheria slumped against a pillar for support, panting hard and clutching her stomach. The voices of her pursuers had disappeared and she let out a relieved sigh. Looking down at her damp, shaking hands, she grimaced; and after letting a few seconds pass, she attempted to stand up again.

The girls' dormitory wasn't far away now. Just a set of stairs down to another hallway, and then a few more doors down the right wing and across the courtyard. Cheria knew the detour had taken its toll as her lungs were burning, heart pounding relentlessly against her rib cage; but if she had managed to shake off her pursuers, it was definitely worth it.

She turned her head to each side, noting the empty spaces and the complete silence that shrouded the small passage, confirming to herself that the coast was clear. It was almost too quiet, considering the number of students attending the school. Especially since most of them were on their lunch break. Perhaps they were out in the courtyard practicing Arts or Aër Control, or something else that aspiring Artists would do during their free time. It didn't really matter; none of them would help her anyway.

Just as Cheria was about to dash off, familiar arms wrapped around her, pulling her back. Startled, she turned her head around, eyes wide and staring up in bewilderment at the boy who held her in a vice-like grip. She struggled, whimpering; however, his grip persisted and she simply remained tense in his arms. A desperate and instinctive cry for help left her throat, almost tangible within the walls, but a hand quickly clamped over her mouth.

The boy leaned in closer to her, his breath inches away from her ear. "Did you really think you could outrun a real Artist, Red?"

Cheria shook her head, swallowing hard behind the hand that tightened around her mouth, pressing her cheeks together. Closing her eyes, she braced her senses; she knew what they were going to do to her, or at least she had an idea of it.

"Hey, guys!" the boy shouted, sneering. "I found her!"

The sound of additional footsteps approached them, and it didn't take long until three more boys emerged from the door behind them. Cheria knew who they were. Edric, Ahki, Darien - first year students, just like herself. "You got her, Kylian? Nice! That little bitch is fast," Edric said as Kylian turned around, with Cheria still pinned against his chest.

He shoved her in front of him, snickering as she collapsed to the floor, and then passed an irritated glare over to his subordinates. "You guys couldn't even catch a girl who can't perform a single Art? Pathetic."

"Yeah well, we lost her when—"

"Use the Boosting Art we learned from Master Larrine, idiots."

"But using Arts indoors is strictly prohib—"

"So what? Do you think the teachers dare to lay a hand on me? Don't you know who my father is?"  Kylian hardened his gaze, a vague hint of darkness appearing in his violet eyes. "Now hold her down properly. I wanna try something new..."

Cheria winced—a wave of panic seized her—and she desperately jerked her head around, searching for a way to escape. However, the three boys jumped her before she even had the chance to regain her stance, arms pinned down to either side of her.

Taking a few steps forward, Kylian smiled with satisfaction, face lighting up with malicious glee. "Open her mouth." A flame ignited at the end of his fingertip, slowly altering itself into a bright light. "I wanna see how this Restriction Art works."

"Stop!" Cheria cried, shaking her head in terror, trying to wrench her arms out of their grasp. "Let go of me!"

"Come on, bitch! Open your damn mouth!" Edric hissed. "I said open it!"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Cheria gritted her teeth as hard as she could, refusing to cooperate with her tormentors. She recognized the Art Kylian tried to perform; a rather common Restriction Art, widely known as Numb. If the user had mastered the specific Aër manipulation required, the Art itself would be enough to paralyze a part of the human body for a considerable amount of time. Hence the name Numb.

"Her hair," Kylian said, cold in his tone. "Make her scream. And grab her tongue when she does."

Cheria's eyes widened, face blanched, as Kylian's words repeated themselves in her head; and a disturbing thought struck her like a smack across the cheek. She quickly thrust her fear to the back of her head and tried to squeeze back the unpleasant feeling that stirred up in her stomach. Noticing how Edric briefly let go of her left arm, she pivoted to her side in a swift motion, forcibly shoving away Darien who sat on her other arm. Then, as Edric tried to grab her again, she turned around and bestowed him a solid punch to his lower midriff.

Free from their grasp, Cheria lurched to her feet, pushing a surprised Kylian aside, and burst through the large door that led out to the stairs. Nearly stumbling a few times, she made it all the way down to the ground floor, her loosely tied sash still flapping in the air behind her like the tail of an Armala. All the afternoon classes seemed to have started since there were no one around other than herself and her pesky tormentors. That meant she would probably be late for class too. And if she knew her teacher—Master Heldin—right, he wouldn't even bother punishing Kylian and his entourage of troublemakers for a simple late coming. Those were the benefits of being the son to a member of Vernia-Henwel's High Council.

"Don't let her get away, you idiots!" Cheria heard Kylian yell after her, but she couldn't tell how far behind they were. Her drive forward had been so strong that she left both her back and sides way open. And now she wanted to know whether she had to push herself even further or not.

Just as she turned her head, the rest of her body crashed into something unusually sturdy, knocking her back to the floor. The fall was hard, but she sat up quickly and began rubbing the back of her head, cursing under her breath. "Hey." A strong hand latched onto her forearm. "Don't you know you're not allowed to run in the corridors?"

Looking up, Cheria's gaze was met by a pair of green, almond-shaped eyes that returned her stare with the same amount of curiosity. "N-no," she blurted, even if she realized a split second too late that it was a blatant lie. Every student in the school were informed of the rules during the first introduction day. "I mean yes!"

She leapt to her feet again, not wasting a second to look behind her as she took off. But she didn't get far. The adolescent, who looked more like a young adult with his sophisticated chestnut hair, had grabbed the back of her shirt. "What did I just tell you?"

Wrinkling her nose in frustration, she tried to free herself from his grasp. He was a lot taller than her, and stronger too - the latter being very obvious as he lifted her up effortlessly with one arm. Cheria had always had a light and slender body, but never before had she experienced being held with her feet in the air like this. However, as she twisted her head slightly, she realized what was going on.

"And I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to use Arts indoors either." She narrowed her eyes at the bright glow engulfing his arm. "Or lift younger students off the ground."

"Correct," he chuckled as he put her down. "Very—"

"You're not getting away this time, bitch!"

Cheria winced, casting a swift glance over her back. "Shit!" Pushing aside the young man, she once again rushed off. "I'm sorry!"

For some reason, her legs—like springs—moved much faster than before; and considering she had been on the verge of collapsing several times due to exhaustion, it seemed odd even to her. The sensation reminded her vaguely of the time when Master Larrine had demonstrated a Healing Art called Alleviate. It was, in fact, the first real Art that Cheria had almost managed to perform correctly; but even so, she never really got it right. Well, almost might've been an exaggeration; her hand glowed for a split second before the light dispersed into the air. Thus, she maintained her status within her class as the girl who couldn't use Arts, despite having an open Aër Center.  

However, where this newfound vigor truly came from was, for the moment, one of the last thoughts on her mind, even though she was grateful for it.

Emerging from the last door, she narrowed her eyes into a squint as the sun embraced her. The girls' dormitory—off limits for all boys—was finally within sight. Cheria bit her lip, shoving down the last bit of energy her body contained to her legs and pushed on, feet pounding against the paved cobblestone.

Even now, she had no idea whether Kylian and his gang had stopped chasing her, or if they were just a breath away from recapturing her. Her gaze had been so persistently fastened on what was in front of her that nothing else seemed to catch her attention.

She rushed inside, barely noticing there were no one around but herself, and unlocked the wooden door to her room before slamming it shut behind her. Safe at last. Leaning back, she slumped down to the floor, her heart still lurching. Never before had she been this exhausted after narrowly escaping Kylian's grasp, and never before had she been forced to take such a long detour. They were starting to get serious.

Ever since the first class of Aër Control, Cheria had been tormented and picked on quite recklessly by most of her classmates. It was noted early that she possessed no talent for either Aër Control or Aër Manipulation - one could even have called her skills non-existent.

Even a person of low intelligence, who one could think wouldn't qualify as an Artist, was usually able to at least master about twenty different Arts. Therefore, many jokes and jeering remarks were centered on the irony of a girl with an open Aër Center who couldn't even mold a simple orb of concentrated Aër.

Cheria had cursed herself for this; it's not like she wasn't trying. She spent hours practicing on her room, during class, and near the river running through the forest surrounding the outer courtyard. The forest had always been her favorite spot, despite the overwhelming feeling of solitude it brought her. After all, it was the only place where she could be alone, without having to worry about Kylian and the others.

But no matter how much effort she put into her training, she didn't seem to make any progress at all. It was beyond frustrating, and strange too since she did perfectly well in the theoretical subjects.

However, this was one out of many schools meant for adolescents whose Aër Center had opened - people who were capable of learning Aër Manipulation and become full-fledged Artists. Here, learning how to control and manipulate Aër was way more important than learning how to count to ten.

Thus, Cheria feared she would have to leave the school without a certificate in her hand. And knowing that her uncle was expecting her to graduate—as there was a high demand on Artists in all of Vernia-Henwel—didn't really make her feel any better. He had taken care of her ever since she was a little child, and she had always wanted to repay him for that.

At first, she felt motivated and eager to live up to her uncle's expectations; but after the first few weeks, the foolhardy determination she had built up had gradually diminished. The spiteful comments from her classmates were only half the reason. The other half was the mere pressure she had forced onto her own shoulders.

Cheria sighed, face buried in her arms that were resting on her kneecaps. Looking up, she glanced over at the dusty old books that were piled up on her desk - lifeless like the rest of her bleak interior. She didn't want to go back to class; she even considered skipping dinner. Because next time, there was no guarantee she would be able to escape them; and after the day's events, she knew they wouldn't treat her lightly.

Wincing, she whimpered at a twinge of pain that struck her chest, arms wrapped around her middle. Her face had become pale, eyes flickering, but after a few seconds had passed, the pain disappeared just as fast as it had assaulted her weary senses.

Slowly regaining a steady breathing, Cheria looked down on her hands. They were shaking. It was the same kind of pain she had felt a few days ago, and a week before that.

Where it had originated from, she didn't know; however, she knew what it felt like, and that frightened her.

A black void growing inside her heart, like an infinite darkness that could never be filled.

2: Chapter 2

"This is the third time you've come here this week, Miss Everain." Master Werther Callan, the school's physician, adjusted his oversized spectacles. "Would you mind telling me what's going on?"

Cheria frowned, averting her gaze. She knew it was all an act, or at least she thought so. Most of her teachers would put on a gentle front whenever they noticed the dark bruises that covered her face, and ask her where they came from. She would lower her eyes and tell them everything about the beatings and the constant abuse, while they listened with a disgusting look of pity plastered on their faces. But as soon as she mentioned his name—no, his last name, the teachers stiffened; and the worried look was usually gone by then. It had been replaced by something else.

Why would the school's physician be any different?

"Your ankle is sprained," Callan continued when he noticed her blank expression. "It's nothing serious, but It'll take a few days to—"

"A few days?" Cheria interrupted, grimacing as she tried to stand up from the bed. "Can't you use any Healing Arts?"

Clearing his throat, Callan walked over to his desk. "It's not always a good idea to use Arts if they interfere too much with the body's own defenses - especially if the Aër Channel is still intact. In some cases it can even cause more harm than good. Furthermore, there aren't any known Arts that can repair leaks in blood vessels. I can ease up the pain if it's urgent, but that's it."

"That's all you can do for now?"

"I'm afraid so." He nodded. "And I would also recommend you to refrain from physical activities until your ankle is completely healed. Don't strain yourself too much."

Sighing, Cheria glanced out the window beside the bed. Callan's room was on the third floor, so she had good view over the entire courtyard. "I understand..."

She noticed a couple of boys showing off their long-range Wind Arts in front of a group of girls. They must've been first-year students too, since their Aër Manipulation didn't seem fluent at all; it took them more than just a few seconds to mold and alter the Aër. But even so, Cheria wished she was only half as good.

Although she didn't know if possessing a few Arts would mean Kylian and his escort of spineless dogs would leave her alone. After all, Kylian seemed to enjoy inflicting her pain rather than mocking her for being untalented. He left that certain task to the other girls in their grade.

"I have to go now. My class is starting soon," Cheria mumbled, limping over to the small table in the corner of the room to fetch her rather heavy-looking book. "Thanks for your help, Master Callan."

"Hold on a second, Miss Everain," Callan said, putting his hand on Cheria's shoulder as she was about to walk out of the room. "Pull up your sleeves."

Shuddering, Cheria stopped and lowered her gaze, her hands still resting on the wooden door. "I really have to—"

Grabbing her wrist, Callan brought the girl closer to him, pulling her sleeve down to her elbow. He stared at her bare forearm for a moment, as his eyes took on a more serious expression, noting the deep scratches and dark bruises she had tried to conceal. "Are you sure there's absolutely nothing you would like to tell me?"

"Let go!" Cheria spat, jerking away from his touch. She turned back to the door, lips thinned, and hardened her jaw. "It's none of your business."

 

The corridor outside Callan's room was quiet as usual, and several chairs stood empty alongside the painted wall. In fact, Cheria had never actually seen anyone in the waiting room before. Every time she came by she would just enter right away, without even knocking on the door.

She began walking over to the narrow staircase at the far end of the hallway, each of her steps making a different sound as her feet connected with the cold floor. The unpleasant smell—a mixture of stale sweat and unknown potions—from Callan's infirmary lingered in the air, but it became less distinct as she moved further away.

It had been two days since the time she managed to get away from Kylian; however, her luck had quickly run out as she was caught the following day on her way back to the dormitory after dinner. Her sprained ankle was a result of Kylian's harsh methods to teach the girl some respect. He thought of it as an amusing way of showing her how meaningless it was to defy him.

Cheria didn't even have a chance to put up with any resistance that time, as she had been surrounded and subsequently wrestled to the ground. Not only did they vastly outnumber her, but she was also physically inferior to the majority of them; and she had cursed the very same root of her helplessness, later that night, when she let the tears once again force her to sleep.

If only she was strong enough to fend for herself.

The spiral staircase felt much longer than it usually would, but it didn't bother her this time. It just gave her more time think, undisturbed. But no matter how much she wanted to leave the world behind her for a while, she couldn't stop being reminded about all the obligations and expectations that were waiting for her. It left her with nothing more than an obnoxious headache.

She had just made it down to the second floor, slightly engulfed in her thoughts, when a hand grabbed her around the neck, sending a cold shiver down her spine. "Hello there, Red." Cheria winced as Kylian's breath grazed her ear. "How's your ankle?" Before she could turn around, her large book had been dropped to the floor with a loud thud, and her hands were twisted behind her back, rendering them useless. Gasping loudly, Cheria was forced to her knees, pain flaring through her body as her arms were still trapped in Kylian's grip. "You're not going to tell him, are you?" he said, yanking her hair. "Because if you do—"

"I wasn't... I didn't tell him anything!" Cheria bit her lower lip, squeezing her eyes shut. "I swear!"

Raising her head, she gazed over at a couple of students chatting a scant distance away. They seemed to try their best to disregard the scene before them, but as soon as they noticed Cheria's desperate expression, they turned around and headed toward another passage. Kylian hadn't been bothered by their presence one bit, merely snickering as he watched how Cheria followed them with her eyes until they disappeared around the corner. "Did you think they were going to save you or something, Red? Now that is funny."

Cheria gulped, her shoulder-length bangs framing either side of her face. An overwhelming feeling of despair had devoured her mind. She wanted to run, to disappear; her instincts urged her to do so. But even if she managed to escape, the next time he caught her would be even more painful. That's how it had always worked.

"Now, let this be a lesson," Kylian said as he straddled her, his hand glowing with the same bright light she remembered from before. "The next time you ask your green eyed friend for help, I won't just let you off with an injured ankle - I'll break your fucking legs instead. Understand?"

Green eyed friend...? Cheria cocked an eyebrow to herself, tears of relief welling up in her eyes as the burning pain in her arms slowly subsided. What is he talking about?

"Do you understand?" Kylian repeated, hardening his gaze.

Cheria nodded inadvertently, pondering over his words. "Yeah—I get it," she said, her voice strained. "I won't tell anyone."

"Good," Kylian sneered as he put his hand on her bare thigh, inches below the hem of her skirt. "And just to make sure you won't forget."

A jolt of pain burst through her leg, and Cheria gasped, eyes widening. Her muscles tensed, body trembling, as Kylian's grip tightened. The pain slowly decreased as the seconds went by and her mind registered a freezing sensation, like the Aër Channel running through her leg had been completely shut down.

Cheria closed her hands into fists, clenching her teeth. She couldn't feel her right leg at all. It was paralyzed. Wincing, she felt the weight on her aching back ease up, and a warm breath against her neck.

"Oh, and Master Heldin really hates latecomers, doesn't he?" Kylian whispered into her ear. "Just figured I should remind you." Twisting his mouth into a wry smile, Kylian stood up and took a few steps forward. He turned around briefly and bared his teeth, the light streaming in through the windows illuminating his cold demeanor. "See you in class, Red."

 

3: Chapter 3

Leaning against the wall for support, as she was forced to monopedal jumping, Cheria had started to make her way over to Master Durun Heldin's classroom. Every time her bandaged feet landed on the hard floor, her eyes twitched slightly, stifled groans of pain leaving her throat more than once.

She looked down on her seemingly lifeless leg, wondering how much longer the effect of Numb would last. It couldn't have been much time left. After all, Kylian was also just a first year student; so she figured there was no way he had actually performed a mastered version of the Art. Additionally, her toes had already regained some movement, which strengthened her theory.

With sweat running down her neck, Cheria pushed open the door separating her from the last hallway before Heldin's classroom, her hands damp and shaky. She tightened her grip around the old book, pressing it against her chest, and then went in.

Laughter and rumbling noises permeated the air, and through gritted teeth, Cheria tried to set her right foot down on the floor. Straightening herself, she took a deep breath, inhaling numerous odors that reminded her of Heldin's lively Art lessons.

The moment she entered through the door, the whole room seemed to fall into an unpleasant silence. Cheria felt like everyone's attention had been redirected to her, even though she had tried to make as little noise as possible. Heads were turned around, staring at her; and whispers quickly spread across the separated desks, jeering remarks being made at her expense.

Heldin, who was still in the middle of a sentence, scratched the back of his head, his eyebrows lowered. "What is this? I thought my students at least had the decency to show up in time. Or does that not apply to you, Miss Everain?"

"I-I'm sorry for being late," Cheria stammered, glancing over at Kylian who sat on the far end of the classroom. "I was—"

"You were sleeping in the library again," Kylian explained, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. "I tried to wake you up, but you just said something about refusing to attend class, didn't you?"

"Is this true?" Heldin asked, stern in his voice.

"Yeah... it is." Cheria raised her voice, thrusting the last bit of doubt to the back of her head. "I wasn't feeling too well earlier today. But I'm here now, right?"

"Go to your seat," Heldin grumbled after he'd considered her words for a moment. "I'll deal with you later."

After giving Heldin a quick nod and letting out a sigh, Cheria walked over to her desk—a few rows in front of Kylian—without uttering a single word. She did her best to ignore the looks coming from her classmates, burning little holes into her back with their strong feelings of disgust and contempt. At least that's what Cheria felt. If she had paid closer attention, she would've noticed that the only person who still regarded her was Kylian.

She slumped down in her chair, flipping open her large book to the page where she had stopped reading the night before. Cheria had become an avid reader of nonfiction ever since she entered the school. Especially because most of her spare time was either spent on her room or in the library in order to avoid Kylian. Thus, she was always ahead of her classmates in the theoretical subjects, which made her stand out during written exams, oddly enough. However, it was not enough to earn her some kind of respect within her class.

In the matter of a few seconds, Cheria had closed out everything around her, focusing her eyes entirely on the letters in front of her. She didn't want to ponder over the intricacies of reaching the dining hall after Heldin's classes. If there ever was a time when she could drop all the noxious thoughts, it had to be when she was reading; and that's why she valued her books more than anything.

She skimmed through the first page, eyes traveling from side to side. Intrigued, she moved back to the beginning, just as Heldin was about to announce the results from last week's test. Cheria wasn't listening. She already knew which questions she had messed up on, and the solutions to them.   

Fastening her gaze at the top of the page, Cheria brought out the small notebook she kept in her pocket. "Tenebrae." The word above the first sentence was written in black ink, and the handwriting must've been older than her ancestors. It looked ancient. She didn't recognize it from any other book either. However, even if she didn't understand the meaning of the word completely, the brief explanation that followed was enough to trap her attention.

She tasted the word once again, feeling how her tongue worked to produce the syllables. "Tenebrae," she mumbled under her breath. "The mutated Aër Center."