Sain Clare Academy (gxg, 18+)

Chapter Thirty-five

This is pathetic, I thought as I snuck back into my room. Morgan Elcaire, ducking her head to avoid someone. What a downgrade. The me of a year ago would have thrown a fit.

As it stood now, however, I was just grateful to get out of the public eye, even if it meant going behind someone's back. To get out of his eye.

High Mage Burner was a despicable man, and a man who thoroughly hated my guts. I had been suspecting for quite a while that it was he who was behind my rather embarrassing situation as a High Mage-- despite my position, I was doomed to complete menial tasks and hadn't been able to even leave the mansion. All because of my traitorous bloodline.

When I saw him his reaction was always the same-- a cold stare directed at me down his thin, mangled nose like I was dirt to be stepped upon. He refused to speak my title, High Mage, and instead turned to never addressing me at all. You, bring me the agricultural files from spring three years ago. You, don't stand there like an idiot!- get me some coffee.

You.

How bold.

I knew I was more powerful than him, but that wasn't the point. Three years ago I might have 'accidentally' burned him to death for one of those snide comments, but now I closed my eyes patiently whenever they came to pass.

Why? Why not punish him, show him your authority? Why are you acting so pathetic like this, a supine dog bowing to its master?

I sat carefully on my bed, brushing my fingertips over the letters beside me.

Dear Olivia,

I can't get your words out of my head.

"It's so beautiful," you told me as you reached to touch my hair.

"That's the first time anyone's told me that with such deep-rooted hatred in their eyes," I'd said back, but it was the easy way out.

Truthfully, I didn't know how to describe how you looked at me, omniscent, like you knew every thought I could have possible held.

It's hard to forget how the light from the window lit you up, and how you looked at me as if I were unreachable.

I promised I would protect you, remember?

Rather than a rabbit, a butterfly suits you more. I want to pin you down, examine every inch of you, but if I do that you'll simply die.

So instead I live with the fear of knowing you might fly away at a moment's notice, or without one at all.

Dear Olivia,

I tried speaking to the Professor again, curious as I am about Anna's attachment. There is an unsettling air when I'm around her, and in a way, it reminds me of you. It's as if she's constantly holding back, keeping a sweeping power imprisoned.

Her eyes are like yours as well.

I don't see why Anna would be so obsessed with her.

Maybe it's her fairness and honesty-- certainly everyone in class hangs off her every word. Of course they would, she's as beautiful and elegant as the glacial snow on a mountain.

She should be careful, at least. I won't involve myself with my brother's whims, but the professor seems to be caught in the crosshairs.

I miss you.

Dear Olivia,

It was cute to see your blush when you saw me looking at you as you sparred in class.

I can't shake the thought that I'm endangering you by staying involved. I allow myself the pleasure of looking sometimes, but it only makes staying away harder.

Goddess, I'm glad these letters will never be seen by you. I'm acting like a little girl with an infatuation.

Dear Olivia,

My father has become more demanding, since the events that took place at the annual competition. I disliked your assignment, against me, and it was only after the explosion I was grateful you were so far away.

I've been told Professor Morgan Eclaire found me. Her magical powers are as terrifying as they were rumored to be in the war against Yven so many years ago. I can't help but feel unease that our political situation, the cease-fire between our countries, will soon break.

I think I may steal you away before they place you on the front lines to die.

Dear Olivia,

I hate that girl for hurting you again, but more than that I hate myself for allowing it. When I saw you on the ground, bruised, wrist bent the wrong way, I could barely restrain myself-- it was like red-hot fury clouded my gaze.

But if I couldn't, I would be no different than the rest of my family. The family that hurt you somehow in the past.

I hate myself still for wanting to be near you when my very blood reminds you of something painful, and when my presence incurs others' wrath upon you.

Pitiful as it was, I needed you to tell me to leave. I made you say it, made you go through the pain again, purely because I was too selfish to restrain myself.

I hope I'll take this lesson to heart, remember the blooming bruises on your limp body whenever I find myself gravitating toward you again.

Goddess, I'm weak for going back. I wanted to see you one last time while you were asleep. Miss Niel, like a guardian angel, told me you didn't want to see me. If only I wasn't the demon in that metaphor.

Perhaps it's time for me to stop these useless ramblings as well.

I will get stronger.

Warmest prayers,

Grace

My fingers traced over the words. Warmest prayers. The pen sunk deep into the paper at their mark, biting through the delicate material. It was as if she forced herself when she wrote them-- the hand was slightly choppier, stiff, ink thick from pressure. How courageous she was.

It marked the last of her words, the last of the letters. I wished I could slap my past self, tell her to take the words back, though I know I would do it all over again. Hurt Grace like that all over again, because I wouldn't be able to stay away from her.

Ironic Grace was able to stop writing letters so easily. I needed that resolve, to be able to stop my useless pining.

The reason I was putting up with High Mage Burner's abuses, the reason I was acting like a dog on its back, it was because of Grace. Because I didn't want to cause her trouble, because secretly, deep down, though I loathed my position with all my heart and soul, I didn't want to be fired from my position as a High Mage-- because if I was, I would be exiled, and then I would never be able to see her again.

Pathetic.

A/N:

Turns out I had this pre-written and forgot to post it last week. Whoopsies.