Myths and Tales

Chapter 4: Who Doesn't Like to Bully Bullies?

~Fritjof's POV~

Once the group walked out of the gym, I watched as Ylva pulled her long, black hair off of her neck, walking back into the gym as she tied her hair back with a blue ribbon of which matched her eyes. I followed, running my fingers through my hair and slicking it back as my father did before jogging to catch up with Ylva.

"Just because I cried in front of you doesn't mean you have to follow me everywhere I go." She said icily.

"I know, but you ignored me halfway through our laps."

"Ugh. Fine. Last one to finish has to give the other a foot massage!" She shouts, speeding off. I laugh and speed up, only to have her beat me a few minutes later. I slowed to a stop by her as she sat down on the bleachers, trying to regain her breath. I made a water bottle appear in her hand and smiled.

"Guess I owe you a foot massage." I say, smirking.

"Yerp." She smiles. My heart skips a beat, her smile lighting up my day. I smiled right along with her, the corners of my mouth twisting upwards. Then, out of nowhere, Hjalmar walked up to us, making a little heart with his big fingers.

"Aw, you two finally got together." He said in a mocking tone. I growled, launching myself at his throat. He simply stepped aside and I used my trickster magic to show him that was just an illusion. He growled, fisting his beefy hands. I snarled just as Ylva pushed me back, stepping in front of me.

"Don't touch him. Do and you'll regret it." She snarls simply.

"Oh I'm so scared. I'm trembling in my boots." He says sarcastically. Ylva was not in the mood to play his games, however, instead, she just glared, zapping him with a lightning bolt. He yelped and she lifted her gaze, thus bringing him into the air and she turned him around and around in circles before flicking her gaze to the other side of the gym.She ran over to his crumpled form an nudged his side, snarling, "Get up." He obeyed, his knees shaking. She then grabbed the front of his shirt, using the winds to make them eye level.

"If you dare talk to or about me and my friends like that again, I will personally behead you. Got it?" She asked, her icy glare fixed on him. He nodded fearfully and she released him, watching him run off. She then fell to the ground, breathing heavily. I rushed up to her, the illusion I was using to hear their conversation vanishing. She looked at me, her eyes filled with a pleading.

"Help...me." She says, fisting her hands in pain.

"What happened?" I asked, feeling useless.

"Knife...Earlier. Ngh!" She struggled to get the words out but I understood as soon as I saw the blood soaking through her shirt just below her rib cage. I was about to say a healing incantation when she suddenly rolled onto her side, facing away from me. I rolled her to face me, peeling her hand away from the wound to see that the flesh around it had turned an icy blue. I muttered something under my breath and picked her up decisively. She panicked and I dropped her, then reaching into the pouch at my side and grabbing a syringe and a couple different numbing and sleeping agents I kept with me that I had brewed. She wouldn't stop rolling around so I started off by applying the sleeping agent, letting her muscles relax before I applied the numbing agents to the wound.

"Fritjof! What are you doing?" boomed Troels' voice, causing me to drive the syringe in too far. I calmly pulled it out a bit, pushing the plunger in slowly, ignoring Troels' protests. Once I finished, Troels ripped the syringe out of my hand and Ylva's side, causing her side to twitch. I stood, only about a quarter of an inch shorter than Troels and not caring, the fury that boiled inside of me almost tore my gut open.

"What was that for Troels?!" I shouted in his face, glaring. Troels glared at me, his grey eyes stormy.

"You were hurting Lady Ylva! You monstrosity!"

"I wasn't hurting her you big troll! I was helping her. She was wounded! I was helping! Unlike you! You who just goes off and takes away every chance for me to prove myself to her and the rest of you guys! You don't care what happens to me. All you care about is fame and fortune and Ylva! I Care about Ylva and improving my skill so I can one day prove myself to her!" Then, out of nowhere, Troels' hand flew and hit my cheek, hard. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides as I grabbed my syringe, supplies and Ylva, walking away from the scene.

"Yeah. Run off you little coward! That's all you do! Is run away." I didn't stop, didn't look back, and kept going. I arrived in my lone dorm room, setting Ylva on the bed and going to grab my more advanced healing agents of my own blend. Once I came back and pulled out bandages and gauze, Ylva moaned and rolled her head to look at me, her eyes holding glimmers of pain.

"Fritjof?"

"Yeah Ylva?" I asked, not looking at her as I prepared more of the numbing agents.

"What wrong? Why am I here?" She managed to get out before I shushed her gently. I inserted the syringe into her side and her back rose off the bed a bit.

"What was that?" She asked, her tone soft and the words a tad slurred.

"A numbing agent."

"For what?"

"Nothing of importance."

"Itsofinportance tome." She slurred, her eyes drooping shut.

"No it's not, so just rest up." I say, taking a small spoon and dish and mixing a few different herb mixtures in with a numbing agent then spreading it on the wound, the frost going away. I placed a gauze pad over it, wrapping bandages around her waist carefully.