The Necromancer

Chapter Twelve

Tharin was the last to enter Professor Frost's office. He strolled in, despite being five minutes late, with no care in the world. Amara rolled her eyes but bit her tongue. Nathan shifted awkwardly on his feet.

"How lovely of you to finally join us Mr. Kronin," Frost greeted with a forced smile. "Professor Murphy here has kindly agreed to supervise you three during detention while I attend a meeting."

"Alright munchkins, you get the privilege of cleaning the gym equipment," Coach Murphy explained. He led them to the equipment storage room. The equipment room reminded Nathan of a large storage unit. A few lights cast shadows over the rows of disorganized shelves stacked high to the ceiling. After showing them the proper techniques of cleaning the equipment, Coach Murphy retreated into his office to catch up on the score of whatever game was on television.

Nathan began quietly cleaning mud off of the helmets, praying for Tharin and Amara to have the decency not to kill each other, or not to kill each other and get him in trouble again in the process.

However, the silence was short lived as the opportunity for Tharin to cause havoc was too good to pass up. Amara shrieked as a wet, muddy rag hit her square in the face.

"You milksopping ninnyhammer!" Throwing her rag, she hit Tharin in the chest, ruining his perfectly pressed robes.

"What did you just call me? Aninnyhammer?"

"A milksopping ninnyhammer. Look it up in the dictionary."

Tharin scoffed. "Figures a freak like you would be obsessively nerdy too."

"Figures a spoiled brat like you would be obsessively insufferable too," Amara mocked. Nathan's aura flickered around him before disappearing as the fight before him continued to escalate.

"Will you two cut it out?" Nathan said, exasperated. "It's so annoying to hear you at each other's throats every minute you're near each other."

Amara picked up the muddy water bucket and made her way towards the door. As she passed by Tharin, he kicked a helmet in front of her intending to trip her. However, as she fell, she dropped the bucket causing the water to splash all over the three of them. Nathan's aura began flickering once more, remaining materialized for longer intervals.

"You clumsy freak! This shirt is ruined."

"Oh, stop crying Kronin. It's not like your parents can't afford to buy you a new one. I'm sure they don't mind spoiling their one and onlyson."

As their argument faded into the background, Nathan felt raw energy pulsing through his veins. His aura was now fully materialized around him, casting everything in a weird shadow. He felt... strong, powerful even.

Remembering Professor Frost's and Murphy's warnings about the dangers of drawing in external energy, Nathan tried to close the channel linking him to Tharin and Amara. As he tried to imagine the channel closing in his mind, the block only lasted a second as the energy rushed towards him faster than before.

Nathan called out to Amara and Tharin, but neither of them paid him any attention. They were too caught up in their own argument. The voices that seemed to always be there were oddly silent, leaving Nathan horribly alone.

The power continued to build up with no way to close the channel. His body was crackling with energy. He tried to leave the equipment room to get away from their arguing, but his feet felt glued to the floor. Sparks popped and cracked from his fingertips as the energy searched for somewhere to go. A surge in energy caused him to scorch the helmets.

He crossed his arms and crouched in a ball as he sunk to the floor. However, making himself smaller did not stop the flow of energy.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" Shouted Coach Murphy, bursting through the doorway.

Amara and Tharin snapped out of their argument, finally noticing Nathan surrounded by his aura.

"Clarke, Kronin, go find another professor!"