X - Xerogoul

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Year of study: fifth

Assignment type: solo

He wraps his sandpapery hands around my neck and squeezes. “You damn guardians think you can interfere in everything that isn’t your business.”

I slash at him with my knife, slicing through the front of his jacket, and then bring my knee up hard against his stomach. He stumbles backward down the cinema steps. “You make it . . . our business . . . when you try to kill someone,” I gasp, then throw the knife at him for good measure. He dodges the weapon, which vanishes into the air before it can hit the screen.

I reach into the air and grab another knife in each hand. I throw them, one after the other, but the xerogoul jumps and somehow just keeps floating upward. I guess you can do that when you weigh little more than a sheet of paper. He looks like a washed out version of a human, but I know he’s empty inside. And I mean that literally.

“You’re going to have to get a whole lot more knives,” he says, “’cause your aim sucks, little girl.”

I snap my fingers and a flame appears in my palm. “You want to come over here and say that?”

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