[COMPLETE] [[**Sequel, The Hybrid Harold, is up!**]]
The first generation past the war has settled and the result is something no one from the past would recognize. In the United Human Alliance, the human run country that takes up much of the land m...
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As I stormed out of Mr. Walton's class my heart raced so intensely that my head hurt. I could barely think straight. How dare they use a textbook written in the blood of our families and loved ones. It wasn't a secret, that was what had started the war that lead to the nation and 'school system' as it was now. The Harrold Church had been researching primal magic and the war between them and the dragons had outed magical beings and users to humans across the globe. Humans had been terrified, and it hadn't taken much for the Church to convince human scientists to team up with them to further their research. Innocents and prisoners of war had been used, and not many survived.
I wasn't an idiot, I knew that the history I'd been taught was written by the UHA. If anything, that made it worse. If the diluted story was that they had tortured and killed people, what was the real deal? I was in danger, I knew that, but I couldn't focus on that because my blood was boiling. I sat in the plastic chair outside of the director's office waiting for him to finish with Michael while I angrily bounced my knee.
I could hear the muffled words within the office. The director was chastising Michael for disrupting the class. He said things he shouldn't have, but there wasn't much that the director would do. Michael hadn't threatened or attacked anyone, and if nothing else we were allowed free speech as long as we spoke from within the school. Of course, I had threatened someone and attacked them. Attacked them with magic they did not know.
"Hey," Michael said, walking out of the director's office. "He wants to see you now."
"Shocking," I said, hoping that my sarcasm would hide my fear. I'd never gotten in trouble like this before.
"Look, you did something in there," Michael said. He spoke softly, hoping to avoid the director. "You didn't change the lecture, but you gave people hope. Remember that."
He squeezed my shoulder and left, leaving me to walk into the director's office. I'd only ever been in once before when he had awarded me and Wes with the 'privilege' of presenting to the new kids earlier in the year. The feel this time was different, ominous.
"Ms. Paetzold, you can close the door," He said. This time his eyes didn't sparkle and he wasn't smiling. I closed the door like he said and sat on one of the empty chairs in front of his desk. "Would you like to tell me what happened today?"
Not particularly, but I doubted that was an option. "I snapped at Mr. Walton," I supplied, wondering how vague he would let me be. Wondering how close I was to getting expelled and, thus, executed.
"Yes, you did," He said. "You also muted him with a rune you burned on his neck. Which, while not life-threatening, is still an attack on a teacher." I said nothing, hoping that my silence would prevent me from doing anything else to get myself killed. "Can you tell me why you did that? Does it have something to do with the medical work on your wings?"
I felt myself gasp, for some reason I had assumed that they hadn't known why I was in need of medical attention. In retrospect the assumption had been stupid, of course, they had known. They knew everything that happened in the school.
