Rewriting His Past

Intentions

"You say it like it's a bad thing." Pyrite said, laughing, "Come on. Let's go meet up with Micah." Dusk had no choice but to grab his arm. His eyes met those of a purple-eyed girl as he was being dragged through the crowd, and the girl's face turned red with rage. She must be a fan. A prince, the third year's leader, and a sizable fan base. It was both like how he had been treated growing up in the Black family and different. Both were well-known, with one being feared and the other being adored. The drawbacks of that fame were shared by both. People. People were always the downfall. Dusk thought it was more bitter than he would like.

"Micah will be keen to see you since he worried he didn't leave any impression." Pyrite persisted in dragging him forward and away from the enraged eyes. That should have been green instead of purple.

"I do not think he needs to be concerned about that," Dusk said, keeping up with Pyrite's fast pace. They made their way to the side of the school. Far away from the crowds. What surprised him was that they didn't follow.

"That's what I told him!" Pyrite remarked, flashing him a toothy grin. All of this without slowing down. "We have a private terminal to help set up your classes."

"A private one?" Dusk thought he heard that Micah wished for a normal student life, as hard as that would be to achieve for a prince.

"First years have a hard time grasping. The difference between treating Micah like a fellow student and trying to harass him. They didn't want me to knock out another student this year, so we made some changes." Pyrite said, and Dusk hoped he heard him wrong. Pyrite knocked out a student. Dusk grimaced, but he kept his face impartial with some effort. He hoped he wasn't getting involved with another Knight. He escaped that ferocious, combat-hungry horror. Dusk did not require another. "Micah!"

Micah waved back from ahead. He was standing next to a wolf-folk woman who was an exact replica of Pyrite. Also standing there was Mrs. Quartz. Dusk was unable to come up with any other explanation for her appearance other than to give him a lecture about how to treat royalty.

"Stop dragging the boy around!" The scowling wolf-folk woman stormed up. When Pyrite came to a stop, she raised her hand in the air. Dusk pulled his hand away, and his mind traveled back.

"Dusk! What do you think you're doing?" Dusk looked up at his mother; he was enjoying a book while reading in a tree's shade. He was very young when it first began. Dusk was five or six at the time. A part of the memory, and not a part. Dusk watched himself like a bad film.

"Reading." A small cane landed on his face, interrupting his sentence. His blood had a taste of copper, and he could feel the pain of his own teeth digging into his cheeks.

"Black's are always ready." She peered down at him with sharp eyes, glaring with a void— an emptiness that Dusk feared above all else.

"Yes, Mother." Dusk answered without getting up from the ground.

"Dusk Wooddancer!" In front of him stood Mrs. Quartz. He knew he had experienced another attack because of the sweat running down his face. It was frustrating and embarrassing.

"My apologies." When Dusk spoke, he did so in a whisper to give himself time to catch his breath. He frequently had nightmares, but having them during the day was a new experience for him, and he did not like it. What he hated were the looks on everyone's faces—everyone but Mrs. Quartz.

"I didn't think it was this bad." Mrs. Quartz looked at him, her rabbit twitching this way and that. Dusk didn't ask what she meant since she, as deputy headmaster, knew of his situation.

"I'm working on it." Dusk had figured out his triggers, and he would get better. He wouldn't let his past haunt his nights and days. "My apologies." Dusk turned and bowed towards Pyrite and Micah, whom he assumed was a relative of Pyrite. "I let you see an unsightly thing." Dusk could feel his hand shaking against his chest. If only it would all go away. Dusk wished in vain for that to happen all last month; the world didn't work that way.