MAJICK's [Show Me How To Feel Again] 1

~ Chapter Three ~

Kevon lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to still his mind as the realization of his new reality pressed down harder than the mattress beneath him.

His body ached, twitching as he still adjusted to the cramped space. He had no illusions about this place—S.A.Y.S was not the haven it claimed to be, and the warning he'd received earlier only solidified that fact.

Trust no one, that was the only thing Mr. Rogelio Moonblood had said right.

The door suddenly creaked open behind him, and Kevon immediately tensed. He sat up slowly, his eyes narrowing as two figures then entered the room.

The first was a light fairy, taller than Kevon, with soft, auburn hair that fell in messy waves to his shoulders. His smile was wide and friendly, his eyes sparkling with a brightness Kevon had long lost. He seemed entirely too comfortable in this oppressive place, and that in itself made Kevon suspicious.

"Hey there!" the fairy said with a cheerful voice that grated against Kevon's nerves. "I’m Jahvi. Guess we’re roommates now, huh?" He threw his bag onto one of the beds with a casual flick and plopped down on the mattress as if they'd known each other for years. "It’s nice to meet another fairy here, you know? Not a lot of us, so we gotta stick together."

Kevon didn’t respond. He just stared at Jahvi for a long moment, his expression cold and unreadable. He didn't trust this place, much less a random fairy who seemed a little too eager to get cozy.

The world had taught him that trust was a liability—a lesson learned through numerous pain and betrayal.

Jahvi didn’t seem bothered by Kevon’s silence. Either that or the boy did not know how to read a room because he just kept talking. "Have you been here long? It’s my first year, but I’ve heard all sorts of crazy stuff about this place already. Mostly rumors, I’m sure, but still—oh, and the classes! I hope they aren’t as bad as they say. Mystic Arts sounds pretty cool though, right? What about you? Got any classes you’re looking forward to?"

Kevon stood up and moved toward his trunk, making it clear he wasn’t interested in chatting. "I’m here to get through the next four years," he said flatly. "That’s all."

Jahvi blinked, taken aback by Kevon’s bluntness, but then chuckled awkwardly. "Right. Of course. Well, still, no harm in making a few friends along the way, yeah?"

Before Kevon could respond—or tell him to mind his own business—a second fairy entered the room, though this one was different. He was shorter than Jahvi, with sharp, angular features and black hair that fell into his face. He carried with him an air of arrogance and pride. He didn’t so much as glance at Kevon as he strolled over to the bed farthest from the door.

Kevon’s eyes narrowed, watching as as the new comer sat down with a sword in his hands. The weapon was made of pure emerald, the blade shimmering in the light. Where had he seen that weapon before.

Mike ran his fingers along the edge of the sword, his gaze fixated on it like it was the only thing in the room that mattered. And with his attitude,it probably was.

His face was a mask of indifference, but there was something about him—something dangerous, something unsettling.

Mike hadn’t spoken a word since entering, but the tension he brought with him was not something that could be mistaken.

"Uh… Micheal, right?" Jahvi asked, clearly trying to keep the mood light. "Nice sword, man. That’s… uh, quite the weapon."

Mike finally looked up, his gaze cold and dismissive as he studied Jahvi for a second before turning his attention back to the sword. He smirked, a sharp, unpleasant expression, and said nothing.

Jahvi laughed awkwardly. "Right. Well, I guess you’re not much of a talker either, huh?"

Kevon folded his arms, leaning against the wall, his eyes moving between the two fairies. Jahvi was still all smiles, trying to fill the silence with meaningless small talk, while Mike sat in the corner, radiating hostility without even having to speak. Kevon’s gut churned with suspicion. There was no way this dynamic was going to end well.

"So What about you, Kevon?" Jahvi asked, turning his attention back to him. "When did you get into this school?"

Kevon didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t like talking about himself, and he definitely wasn’t interested in making friends, especially with his own kind. The fairy world was as full of betrayal and backstabbing as any other supernatural faction. The idea that just because they were all Fae they should “stick together” was laughable.

"I got here today," Kevon said finally, his tone clipped, giving as little information as possible.

Jahvi nodded, his smile faltering slightly at Kevon’s continued coldness, but he didn’t seem deterred. "Cool, cool. Well, it’s good to have someone else who can fly around here, y’know? Most of the students are grounded, so we’ve got that going for us."

Kevon raised an eyebrow. "Right."

Mike, in the corner, let out a low chuckle, his fingers still tracing the edge of the sword. The sound was derisive, mocking.

Kevon’s eyes flicked toward him. "Something funny sword freak?"

Mike glanced up, his eyes sharp and predatory. "You talk a lot for someone who’s probably going to get crushed in the first week."

Jahvi’s expression tightened, but Kevon’s face remained unreadable. He was used to threats—overt, subtle, or in between. Mike’s arrogance didn’t surprise him. It was the nature of well, Nature faires.

Kevon met Mike’s gaze evenly. "I’m not here to make friends," he said, his voice low. "Or enemies."

Mike smirked again, this time a little wider. "Sure. But you might not have a choice. This place doesn’t care what you want." He stood up slowly, his wings flexing slightly as he held the sword in his hand. "Everyone’s either prey or predator. And right now, you look a lot like prey to me."

The tension in the room grew thicker. Jahvi shifted uncomfortably, sensing the brewing conflict. "Hey, come on, no need to—"

"Save it night light," Kevon interrupted sharply, his eyes still locked on Mike. "Listen here Michael! I don’t need advice from someone too scared to take his eyes off a shiny sword."

Mike’s smirk vanished, replaced by a flicker of something darker—anger, perhaps. He stepped forward, the sword lowering as though daring Kevon to challenge him further.

Kevon didn’t flinch. He had been through worse than this—a lot worse. And he wasn’t about to back down from some puffed-up fairy who thought his sword made him important.

"Keep waving that thing around," Kevon said coolly. "Maybe one day you’ll actually use it."

For a second, Kevon thought Mike might actually strike. His grip on the sword tightened, his knuckles turning white. But then, with a sneer, Mike pulled back, shaking his head.

"It's not worth it. You’ll learn soon enough," he muttered before turning away, heading toward the door. "This place will chew you up very soon, new guy. And I’ll be there when it does, watching with a content smile."

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Kevon and Jahvi alone in the tension-heavy room.

"Well… that went well," Jahvi muttered, trying to lighten the mood again. Seriously was he never going to stop with the smiles. "Don’t worry about Mike. He’s all bark, no bite. Just give him some time, he'll definitely warm up to you."

It seemed the two knew each other. Kevon didn’t respond though. He didn’t care much about Mike’s threats. The only thing that mattered to him was his survival, and nothing more.

He had already built walls high enough to keep out threats like the ones he had just faced. But there was no doubt in his mind that Mike’s words weren’t just empty bravado.

This place was going to be worse than he thought.

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