A Choir Of The Coldest Hearts

Like A Rush Shot Through You

It's uncharacteristically humid out. The air hangs heavily around us as we drag ourselves to and from classes. I shift in my chair, trying to focus, but honestly, I couldn't care less. It's the last class of the day, the most boring one too. History of our world. If it were something more interesting, like spell casting, I probably wouldn't be falling asleep as quickly. The familiarity of it all pangs me. If it was last year—no, I won't think about it.

I stare down at my notebook, blank except for the random doodles littering the page. There are a few strange symbols that I don't recognize, a diamond with a cross through it, a circle with a feather inlaid in the center. Strangest of all, there is an outline sketch of a boy's face, though who he is, I'm not sure. I swear, I recognize him from somewhere though. Maybe it's just the venenum, making me see things.

"We draw our power from the Ghost King, our holy father," Mr. Radke drones on as usual. "He gives us life and in turn, we serve him. He is the essence of life, the essence of everything." I could practically repeat his spiel from memory at this point.

"Many of our kind have been prosecuted, by those who believe in the False King. The False King, also known as the Light King is powerless against the Ghost King," he continues. "As you all know, the Ghost King is the almighty, our kind and benevolent leader." The words send a shiver down my spine, the memories flooding to the surface, but I push them away. I see a few of my classmates flash me sympathetic glances, but I just shrink lower in my chair, pulling my hood over my face.

"Our magic primarily comes from red curses," Mr. Radke says. "Drawn from the power of the Ghost King. Blue comes from the Light King, the spells that the Servers of the Light use." Blue, my mind whispers. Like the knife, the glowing knife that's haunted my dreams for so long. Why didn't it kill me? It should have.

"Fuentes!" I look up to see Mr. Radke staring at me. "Are you even paying attention?"

"Yeah," I mumble, my face heating up. Of course I got caught.

"It doesn't seem like you are," he says.

Maybe it's the venenum coursing through my system, making me uncharacteristically reckless, but I throw caution to the winds. "Well, if you were so certain, why did you ask me, huh? Just to prove you're an asshole?"

Mr. Radke's face goes cold. "Stand up," he instructs. "Since you're so eager to learn, how about you act as the demo today?"

I stand up, shoving past him as I make my way to the front of the room. I'm itching for a fight, my blood boiling under my skin. My powers are there—I'm ready, but I'm hit with a spell before I even register him following me.

I hastily throw up a shield, the letters glowing red in the air as a wall expands between me and Mr. Radke, protecting me from the spells that fly toward me, the red sparking against red. He doesn't stop, throwing spell after spell as I block them, one after another, as they rain down on me. I stagger backward, barely holding my own as I try to defend myself.

"You think that you are going to get a pass in my class this year?" Mr. Radke taunts. "Just because your brother—"

"Stop it!" The words appear in the air, shimmering and purple as Mr. Radke is thrown backward. Everyone stares at me in shock. I'm standing there stunned, trying to process what happened. I just threw him backward. In English, nonetheless. The purple words flash through my mind again. Purple. Not red or blue. Purple.

"What the hell?" I hear someone mutter as I stare. That's not possible. It's supposed to be red. But it's purple, clear as day. A perfect mix between red and blue. It's never done this before. I think back to all the times last year and all of my spells. They were always red, or barely tinted with blue. Never purple before.

~*~*~*~*~

I run out of the room at a blind sprint, just trying to get out of the classroom and away from the stares. I take a left, then a right, running through the twisting maze of hallways before I collide head-on with someone.

"Shit!" I wince, snapped out of my daze.

"Hey, sorry about that," I look up to see a blond girl standing there, looking at me concerned.

"It's okay," I say awkwardly. "It was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going." Right now, all I want to do is get back to my dorm room.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yeah," I breathe out harshly. "I'm fine."

"I'm Jenna," she says, extending her hand. "I'm new this year."

"Vic." I take her hand. "Welcome, I guess." For a moment, I tense, wondering how much she's heard about me. Is she going to ask, like everyone else has?

"Sorry to have to ask you," she says and I take a breath, ready to answer with a retort. "Do you know where Mr. Way's classroom is? I can't seem to find it."

I let out a sigh of relief, a strange smile spreading across my face. "Oh, yeah. It's down the hall, third door on the right."

Jenna seems a bit confused, but she nods. "Thanks. See you around, I guess."

"See you."

As soon as I get back to my room, I sink to the floor, leaning against the door. Purple. The word flickers in my mind as I open my hand.

"Ignis," I whisper. Fire. The words flash, red this time, though they are tinted with a slight bit of blue, making them more of a violet. So I didn't imagine it. Something is different about me. I'm powerful—unheard of levels of powerful.

Deep down, hope sparks, a small flame flickering, just like the one in my hand, but it grows stronger and stronger. I'm powerful. I might just be able to pull this off.