The Book of Forbidden Spells: Come to Light

RESIST

A month.

One total month had passed since the rule situation.

First, it was a cold. Days after the pact to adopt these new rules, Whimsy was knocked with a cruel illness and bedridden for two hellish days. Getting sick was atypical for Whimsy, but when he did he'd whip up a spell to ease the torment. The rule ban halted this. No headache-clearing wet cloths. No nausea resistant berries. It was ridiculous that the school couldn't provide enchanted items for them. Something about "learning to deal with problems without magic." Bullshit!

Then, Whimsical missed class when Gelid assigned an essay. Typically, he'd enchant the paper to write for him. Thinking about it later, he should've just enchanted the pen. Now, he had to blab through the paper himself. Three pages worth!

After the cold his sleep schedule deteriorated. Not only was sleeping at night hopeless, but he couldn't sleep in class either. Something was driving his mind awake 24/7. Fatigue made his body and sanity strain. He felt like he switched heads with Insight! A swift spell would've mended it all, but no.

Lately, the group had considered not using any enchanted objects. Just in case.

Tiny annoyances without (already limited) spells to aid built up and up.

Whimsy was not letting them steal it all away.

And he was not taking it any longer.

The buildup ruptured once the four sat for lunch.

"Look!" Whimsical thudded his palms on the table, attention of the others snapping onto him. "I'm- I'm done!"

A stillness of startled faces resulted.

"Huh?" Sheephead squeaked.

Whimsy alarmed (and flustered) himself with how rocky the breath he took was.

"I'm done! I've had enough of this- this rule following bullshit! First the forbidden spells book. Now this? Do you know how hard this is?"

Horror hijacked Sheep's gaze, though he waited for Whimsical to finish.

"Wait. Wait, Whimsy," the Seawing leaned in and set his fish down. "Hey. You... you- come on. It's um, it's only until we know we're all clear," he scanned the others for validation.

"Yeah?" Whimsy exposed his teeth. "And how do we know that? Huh?" He turned to Insight. "Do you know, seer?"

Whimsical anticipated a response, but Insight was as shifting as a statue.

"Yeah, exactly," Whimsy grunted then held his talons out. "I'm not going to be bad, anyways! It's just some stupid ass prophecy. Uh, and I can say that, because I'm a Nightwing."

Finally, Insight chimed in.

"Well I'm also a Nightwing and I think we should pay attention to whatever's being hidden from us by our government-ass-sucking teachers," the bitter at the end was sharp, but Whimsical didn't waver.

"Why would I trust you? You had a 'theory' that all the Seawings here are pink because 'they're supposed to stand out if we become wanted.' Seriously?!" The hybrid fired back.

"But Insight does know about prophecies!" Sheephead pushed to squeeze back in. "We can trust him this time!" Sheep now had little faith in his words, as if disbelieving his own voice.

"Three Moons!" Whimsy hissed. "You guys seriously think I'm going to give us 'eternal pain' or whatever?!"

A harrowing time passed without a word. But the only one who hadn't spoken up yet, finally did.

"It's just in case, Whimsy," Spongy assured carefully.

A twist wrenched through Whimsical's stomach.

"You don't trust me?" His voice withered.

In 11 years of knowing these dragons, they expected this low from him. When they didn't respond at all, it was set.

Whimsical secured his voice.

"Wow."

Insight gasped like he'd been whipped. He turned his head, and the others copied to watch Seahorse hurricane in.

"What's going on!?" She demanded.