Stepping out of Francis's office the cold night air slapped Eli in the face. He drew his coat closer about him and began to walk across the campus towards the parking lot. It was deserted, even the police had left hours ago. Maybe Eaves and Marova were still around, doing whatever investigative things Sentinels did, but he certainly wasn't going to wait around and see. He stopped dead in his tracks. What if they were waiting for him to leave? Once he was off of Westmore grounds, Francis could do nothing to protect him.
Eli stood paralyzed. He could feel the pressure of dozens of eyes on him, hear the ragged breathing of Sentinels just around the corner, and see swiftly moving shapes in the shadows. He forced his eyes close, his heart hammering a fevered beat. He remembered the breathing exercises he'd helped Maddie with just earlier this morning. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly. Comfortably. No pressure, no rush. Just the air, in and out of his lungs.
Eli wasn't sure how long he stood there, eyes closed, one step away from exiting the academy grounds, but when he finally opened his eyes he felt calmer. The fear and worry were still there, but they no longer had a death grip on him. If Eaves and Marova were waiting to arrest him there was nothing he could do about it. Francis was right, even if he was brought to the Hall, eventually his real identity would get out. Elijah Lawson, former sorcerer prodigy who lost his magic, and almost his life, five years ago couldn't be involved in this. Whatever that monster had been, it was clearly magical in nature. A twisted mockery of magic that made Eli's stomach twist and roil in disgust and anger, but magic nonetheless.
With a stiff back, fully expecting to be tackled any second, Eli stepped into the parking lot and officially off Westmore grounds. He let out a sigh of relief as he made it to his car, hurriedly getting in and driving back home, making sure to drive the exact speed limit and not run any lights. He felt like a teenager again, heading home from a party after one too many hits off a bong.
He had no idea if Amon had heard about today, who knew how much the Sages would be able to keep out of the news, but he was looking forward to venting to his friend. Amon was the most knowledgeable person about the Fae that he knew, if that thing had been a Fae creature then he would know about it. Besides, today had been truly terrible, the image of Mr. Harris' body flashed through his mind, and the only thing he wanted to do was talk to his best friend about it. Well, that and get so drunk he could just pass out tonight and avoid the inevitable nightmares.
The drive home gave him plenty of time to think, something he both appreciated and cursed. The events of today finally caught up to him and it was all he could do to not curl up on the ground and fall asleep. His body ached with every movement and his brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
Eli shook his head, focusing on the road and the mechanical groan of his car. Francis was closing Westmore. What did that mean for him? Would Benjamin consider this a success and let him leave? Or was he already plotting on how to take Eli out, and that was why he wouldn't text him back. Bad train of thought, nothing he could do to solve it now. Move on for now.
Next issue was the Sentinels. They clearly suspected him, and knew there was something off about him. If only they knew. Francis was right though, just let them do their job and eventually they'd leave him alone. Their superiors would see to that if nothing else. The thought of relying on his father's influence to help him out caused his vision to go red at the edges, but now was also not the time to unpack that can of explosives.
Feeling slightly better, Eli turned his thoughts to the nightmare, easily picturing its horrifying visage. He shivered. That thing scared him. He'd thrown himself into fights with vampires, weirs, and even Fae on occasion, but that creature had been something else. Too fast, too strong. Too unnatural. Would Eaves and Morova be able to kill it? It shrugged off Mr. Harris' attack like it was nothing more than static shock, but Mr. Harris wasn't the most accomplished of sorcerers. Those two would be far better trained, stronger, and tougher. Sentinels weren't to be taken lightly. The uneasy feeling in his stomach refused to go away though.
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Razed by Magic
FantasyMagic is everything and everywhere. It sustains the vampires, allows the weirs to transform, and gives the Fae life. Sorcerers are those humans fortunate enough to touch upon magic, form it to their will. The protectors of humanity. Elijah Lawson w...