❝ the world isn't so dull when you do things for yourself. ❞
ᝰ.ᐟ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎mashle x f! reader
IN WHICH︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎the bureau of magic's ace card attends easton magic academy against their knowledge to shelter a magic-less boy.
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ᝰ.ᐟ
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ "you've lost, kairos."
the doll paused right as the blade was nearly driven through your eye. it was the work of abel walker, a man of remarkable talent. he had you cornered, something no one had been able to do before your were taken by the bureau.
perhaps the ever-changing world had produced more of the blessed by magic. or perhaps you were getting rusty, being away from the strict lifestyle you lived since you could remember.
but one thing you knew for sure was that you haven't lost. for as long as you're alive, you will never loose. you could fail, but you a loss is impossible.
"lost? over my dead body." you scoffed, grabbing the doll's arm and stabbing your own eye. both of the students' eyes widened, just what were you up to?
you dragged the arm down while the blade was still stuck into your eye, effectively slicing a part of your own face open. landing a harsh kick on the puppet's torso, it flew back with formidable force, crashing into a wall and leaving quite an impact.
you stepped back, turning to face the man who had you cornered. or so he'd thought. blood dripped from the self-inflicted gash on your face, pooling onto the ground. your lips almost twitched up into a grin; you were thrilled to have met such talent in this age of the world.
"watch, abel." you demanded. he complied, weary of your confidence when you cut your face open. surely, you had some trump card hidden under your sleeve.
and you did.
abel's grip tightened on the doll he cradled at the sight that unfolded before him.
the blood that poured profusely down your cheek was being drastically slowed by the second. eventually, the bleeding came to a complete stop. next, it was how eerily your wound had started to fix itself up ─ as if the damage were being reversed.
but it wasn't being reversed. not quite.
what was happening beneath the surface was your personal magic in play. you were sealing up the split blood vessels, damaged cells, possibly even the atoms, and reconnecting them to one another.
it was an impossibly intricate spell, one that was never recorded in history. a spell you created, and a spell solely for you to master. it was a spell born from desperation. a pure desperation to eternally fight and protect; 'sealium remedium'.
