#and headmaster ambrose wants me to save the spiral yet again

[basketoreblogs]

person: so ur a bg3 artist, yeah?? u must play bg3 a lot then!!! me, scrambling as my computer screen shows me creating my new myth wizard on wizard101 only for me to close out of the tab and skip to astarion woohoo scene on lotus save cuz that would be easier to explain: yeheah...

[save-the-spiral]

Wiztober Day Nine: Mice

Welcome to day Nine of Wiztober2020. Dyvim loving hours. Khrysalis Spoilers ahead. Content warnings for Injury mention, slight disassociation/panic attack from narrator.

@pyromancyy @necrospellbinder I summon you for reader/dyvim content. hello.

(link to prompt list)

You hiss in pain as the bandages tighten around your calf. You had insisted you were capable of tending to your own injuries, but your companion insisted on helping. So now you both were camping out in a small alcove of rock on the outskirts of the Khonda Desert, hiding without your armor so you could be healed.

“Sorry!” Dyvim mumbles reflexively, his paw shakily gripping the roll of bandages.

“S’fine.” You hiss again, letting your head fall back as you looked above towards a starless sky as twilight quickly descended into night. It was eerie, but the dread in your heart isn’t enough to stop your newfound comfort in darkness and shadows.

Shadowmancy is a hell of a thing, you muse.

“Done.” Dyvim smiles weakly, patting your knee with his paw.

Your heart races and you blush as you catch his gaze, instantly turning away.

“Thank you, Dyvim.” You manage, swallowing nervously. He's so close to you, looking so earnest and bright. “But really, you didn’t have to.”

Dyvim moves closer, settling down to sit right by your side. You still stare to the side, as if a cliff face is at all entertaining. A brush of soft fur, and suddenly his paw is on your cheek, turning your head to face him. You hope he can’t feel the heat of your blush through his adorable little toe beans on his paws.

It is so small and warm. All of him is so small and warm, a contained little star, infinite energy swirling inside of him.

Dyvim feels untouchable. A specter of greatness you can never achieve, a determination that you never truly had, even in the beginning.

“I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. His whiskers twitch and ears flicker as he says it.

Your mouth opens slightly, at a loss for words when you realize he hadn’t removed his paw from your cheek yet, that his small claws had traced your jawline. Finally, you speak. “But...”

At your obvious discomfort, he drops his paw. “I’m sorry- I-”

“But why?” You finally manage to say, exhaling a shaky breath.

"What?”

“Why tend to my wounds? Why treat me like I can’t help myself? I’ve saved about a dozen worlds by now, I don’t need-!”  You don’t even realize your hands have been trembling until Dyvim takes them in his paws.

“You...” Dyvim pauses, then chuckles slightly. Before you could even get offended, he continues talking. “You get any help at all, and decide people are patronizing you. I only want to help, and even the simplest act makes you say ridiculous things.”

“Ridiculous?!” Your voice raises with indignation.

Dyvim holds on tighter to your hands in his, and even though his hands are more delicate, more mundane, without the hum of magic under his skin like you possessed, you can’t bear to rip your hands away from his even as your anger rises. The thought of accidentally hurting Dyvim is anathema. The possibility of seeing his face twisting with pain or slack with death, it's as if someone reached in your chest and tried to pull out your heart, clawing and clenching and straining until you can’t breathe-

Your eyes open when you realize Dyvim had been repeating your name, a question, as if calling out and not knowing if you were there. His fingers run through your hair, dulled claws lightly scratching at your skull, a repeating rhythm. His other hand is around you, clutching your shoulder, a barrier of fur and muscle that you knew was stronger than it appeared.

It almost feels like a hug. And that is strange to you. You move your head, no longer tucked in the soft space of Dyvim’s neck and shoulder, and blink blearily up at him, and wonder if you had ever been hugged since coming to the Spiral. Since you had been summoned by Headmaster Ambrose. The answer makes your entire body ache, old wounds rising to the surface to remind you of days spent injured with no one to heal you.

“Dyvim?” You whisper.

“Oh, thank goodness.” He mutters quickly, eyes suddenly brightening from their dull worry. “It was so strange- you suddenly weren’t responding- and at first I thought you fell asleep, but-”

“Shhh.” You tiredly press a finger to his lips, hushing him. Your heart skips a beat as you see what you were doing, and you quickly let your hands fall to your lap. The fur on his face was now awkwardly ruffled.

Dyvim looks down at you, eyes locking with yours, and says your name. It's sad, not pitying, but concerned, as if he's helpless to stop whatever may come to hurt you. In a way, he is. He isn’t a wizard, and because of that so many battles were fought without him. So many opportunities to be stuck at the sidelines, powerless to stop whatever tried to kill you this time.

His hand is resting at the back of your skull, and the arm supporting your back was no longer tense, but still strong enough that you can rest against it.

“I just...” You whisper again. “I can’t put my life in another persons hands. Ever since I learned of magic, I’ve been on my own. Years of questing, of killing and saving people, of victory and defeat... and it’s all relied on me. My triumphs. My mistakes.” Your breath shakes, and you squeeze your eyes shut for only a moment before opening them again. “I can’t drag another person down with me when I fail.”

You let your head rest on his collarbones, the soft feeling of fur enveloping you as you close your eyes. You can hear his heartbeat.

Dyvim rests his chin on your head, and his hug encircles you. You feel so small in that moment, safe and quiet where no one could hurt you.

You feel tears gather at your eyes, and will them away.

“I’m always scared.” Dyvim finally says. His voice is young and fragile, and you know if it were a better time you and he would still be considered too young for the adult world, but too old to be a child.

Neither of you got a chance to be a child.

Dyvim exhales, thinking for a moment. “Every time we go into battle, I think it must surely be our last. That any moment there will be something to throw me out of a window again, dying. Or you will be defeated and the enemy cruel and unmerciful. Fear chases me like a rabid animal, uncaring and ruthless. I am afraid, all the time.”

Your hands snake upwards, and you hug Dyvim back, fingers interlocking where they now rest at his back.

The desert is quiet at night. Distantly, you think you may hear the sounds of both mouse encampments, but maybe your mind is playing tricks on you.

“I have always been afraid, ever since I truly understood what world I had been born into. The only thing that can keep the fear at bay... It’s knowing I can heal you. I can help, I can bandage your wounds and make your meals and keep you company, and I know, in a way, that even those paltry actions help save my world.” Dyvim’s voice wavers, as if on the verge of tears. “You are worth it. Worth the fear, and whatever it takes to care for you. Not because you saved worlds before, or even saved the whole Spiral. It’s because I care about you. Who you are. A person whose path has denied them what they deserve. You are allowed to show weakness, to be afraid and hurt, with me. We have faced so much together, and I can only hope that means something. I promise I will care for you in any way I can, on my honor if I must.”

You realize you are crying as you move away from his chest, only to say, “That won’t be necessary.” in a trembling voice.

Dyvim pulls you in tight, hugging you as if it’s his only chance, savoring it and how ephemeral this affection must be by its own nature. You fall asleep together, under the starless sky. For this moment, where you both begin to drift into sleep, there is nothing more important than the fact that you two are together, and safe.

[melorsomething]

Crystal Clear | Chapter 5 | Plans

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Moira opened her eyes to the sound of hushed voices. She blinked, peering around the room, but, being unable to find anyone, turned her attention to the door, which was slightly cracked open. Carefully extracting her arm from the sleeping Angela’s embrace, she crept over and peeked through the opening, blinking once more at what she saw. Headmaster Ambrose was deep in conversation with Grace, and neither of the two looked happy.

“I really don’t think she’s strong enough yet,” Grace said. “She needs to stay and rest more, and we… we don’t even know if she’s entirely okay. It would be dangerous for her—”

“The people are unsettled—outraged, confused, frightened—she needs to leave.”

Moira stifled a gasp, pressing her hand to her face as her eyebrows knit together. What is he talking about?

“Going anywhere is the last thing she needs to be doing right now. The people can deal with it; she can’t hurt anyone in her condition, anyways.”

“Can you be sure of that? From the whispers floating around Wizard City, she was quite worse for wear when it happened during the tournament.”

“But she’s not going anywhere. She’s staying here. The only people she’d be able to hurt are those who go into her room.”

“So, any doctor? What of her family? Friends? We don’t know what she’s capable of. Her power could extend far beyond her room—”

“Our rooms are magic-proof.”

“What she did was something we haven’t seen before—”

“But we have seen it! She showed all the signs of mana deficiency. Whatever she did was just as powerful as the magic in the historical accounts.”

“Then it would stand to reason that it is far more powerful than the wards placed on this building. Not to mention the fact that she survived implies she is stronger than any wizard in the accounts.”

Grace buried her fingers in her hair, sighing. “I can’t just let you send her away. I have a duty as a doctor to keep my patients safe.”

“You could accompany her.”

If anyone’s accompanying her anywhere, it’s me, not her!

“She isn’t my only patient. I’ve just received an assignment in Zafaria—I have to wrap up my work here.” Grace’s frantic gestures revealed a state Moira hadn’t seen from the girl before: stress. “I have other responsibilities; I can’t just—”

“Then we are at an impasse. Given the circumstances, I cannot simply overlook her.”

Grace’s hands drifted upwards, gravitating toward her hair again, but she opted to simply take a deep breath and drop them back to their sides. “I don’t know, then. At least… don’t wake her up; let her rest. Come back later. Please.” The last word was added on seemingly as an afterthought, but there was a genuine pleading behind the soft tone, and Moira thanked every star she could think of for sending Grace as Angela’s nurse.

“Very well. I will return later, but eventually, she must go.”

Grace dipped her head, her eyes lingering on the floor for a moment. “Yeah,” she said, barely above a whisper as the headmaster walked away. As her eyes rose back up, she caught Moira’s through the crack in the door, and strode toward the room. Moira scrambled back, trying to leap into the bedside chair and look inconspicuous, but likely only looking more conspicuous in doing so. When the door opened, she was awkwardly draped across the small chair, one leg thrown over the armrest and the other foot brushing against the floor while her arms struggled to find a natural position. “Hey, Grace,” Moira said, trying not to cringe at her noticeably higher tone. “What’s, uh, what’s up?”

“Moira, I know you were listening.”

Moira stood up, her neck cracking in relief from its newly non-awkward position. Her face, however, remained a painfully forced smile as she tried to suss out Grace’s emotions.

“Moira, I don’t care that you were listening; I just want to know how much you heard.”

“Enough.”

“Wow, that’s not cryptic at all,” Grace said. “I’m still on your side. Or did you not hear that bit?”

“What does he want?”

“To send her away. He says the people of the city are scared because of what happened with Jonathan.”

“Send her where, though? Does he even have a plan?”

“It’s Merle Ambrose, Moira; he always has a plan.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, and neither do you. He’s scared, too, and scared people don’t have plans.”

Grace raised an eyebrow, but there was a look of curiosity behind the exasperated eyes. “What makes you think he’s scared?”

“Why else would it be so urgent? You both admitted you have no idea how powerful she is. Everyone fears the unknown.”

“Maybe he wants her out for her own safety as well as others’. Maybe he wants her out quickly so he can start working on a solution without having to worry for her safety—Moira, what?”

Grace had cut herself off at Moira’s shaking head. Stepping closer, Moira lowered her voice to a whisper, as though the subject of their conversation could still hear them. “I don’t think the headmaster worries for anyone’s safety.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Think about it. He sends students on life-threatening expeditions to save the Spiral, and what do they get in return? Nothing. It’s like—”

“Moira,” Grace said gently,” I think you’re losing sight of your point.”

“I just… why does she need to go anywhere? Angela would never hurt anyone.”

“She did, though.”

“Not on purpose!”

“Well, maybe that’s why she does need to be sent away. What if she hurts someone else by accident?”

“You’re agreeing with him?”

“I’m keeping people safe,” Grace snapped, “because that is my job. I know this is stressful for you, but sometimes that’s how life is. You can’t fight it, anyways. Whatever he decides is what’s going to happen.”

Moira faltered, taken aback by the doctor’s sudden ferocity. Without her reply, the room fell silent, save for Angela’s quiet breathing. It was a miracle, by Moira’s standards, that the girl hadn’t woken up amidst the argument. The two wizards stood cloaked in the silence for a few moments, both waiting for Moira to say something. When she finally did speak, the words that came out of her mouth were not what either had expected.

“I’m scared.”

“Of?”

“Not of. For. I’m scared for her. Whatever happens, she’ll be alone. Maybe not alone alone, but she won’t have me. She’s always had me—ever since she came here. She needs someone. It… it doesn’t even have to be me, but she needs someone. Do you remember how I said she couldn’t go back to Celestia?”

Grace nodded. “You said she hid in her castle for weeks.”

“Yeah, and I don’t know how long she would have stayed if I hadn’t been there for her. For three weeks, I visited her every day and talked to her. For the first week, she didn’t even talk back. I just sat with her, telling her about whatever was going on with my family, with the city, with anything and everything. And once, after she finally started replying, I mentioned an update the expedition had sent from Celestia, and she regressed all over again. So I just stayed. I made her get up and walk around and do literally anything other than sit there. I kept talking to her, making sure to steer clear of Celestia. It was slow and painful for both of us, but we got through it together. What would have happened if I hadn’t been there for her? What’s going to happen if I’m not there for her wherever he sends her?”

Grace opened her mouth, but no words emerged before she shut it again and pulled Moira into a hug.

“I—what are you doing?”

“My job is to care for people. You’re doing an awful lot of caring right now, but it seems like you’ve got no one to care for you.”

“I… thank you,” Moira said, tentatively bringing her arms around Grace. “I…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I know.”

“Hey,” a voice rasped from beside them. “Don’t I get a hug?”

Moira and Grace broke apart, laughter trickling past their lips as they turned to Angela, who was now propped up on one elbow. The laughter petered out, however, as their eyes tracked over Angela’s face. The girl looked even more tired than she had when she fell asleep, if that was even possible. The circles under her eyes had darkened and spread, seeming themselves almost bigger than her eyes.

“Hey,” Moira breathed, brushing a lock of hair back from Angela’s face. “How are you feeling?”

“Better…” At Moira’s raised eyebrows, Angela continued, “a little… okay maybe not much… or… at all…”

“Worse?” Grace offered.

Angela just nodded. “I feel like I haven’t slept in a week.”

“We figured as much. One moment.” Grace slipped out the door only to return moments later with a small flask of swirling purple liquid. “Try a potion. If we’re lucky, you should start feeling better almost instantly. If not, well… let’s hope.”

With Moira’s help, Angela sat up fully, leaning against the wall to support herself, took the potion, and tipped it into her mouth. She grimaced. “That tastes worse than usual.”

No apology given or even remotely implied, Grace took the cup back with a wry smile. “It’s a stronger version we use to get boosted results. Fills your health and mana like a regular one, but it also gives you a little adrenaline rush.”

“Well, I’m certainly feeling something.”

Grace’s expression brightened. “That’s good! That means your healing process is kicking into gear. Or it means you’re dying, but it’s probably the first one.”

Moira took a chance and lightly smacked Grace in the back of the head. “Didn’t they ever teach you not to say things like that?”

Seeming not to mind the mild assault, Grace simply continued to speak to Angela. “Are you continuing to—”

She was cut off by a sharp gasp from Angela, who doubled over in the bed. Both Moira and Grace rushed to her side, which was, in itself, an impressive feat, considering they were both within a mere two steps of the girl—hardly enough room to rush, by most standards.

“What is it?” Grace asked at the same time Moira said, “Ange, what’s wrong?”

“I—I don’t know, it just,” she sucked in another sharp breath, “it just feels wrong.”

Grace pulled a small vial from the pouch at her hip and held it to Angela’s lips. “Here, drink this.”

Angela did as she was told and within a minute was sinking back down into the bed, her eyelids drooping.

“What was that?” Moira demanded.

“A sedative. My best guess is that your mana is reacting badly with her body. The only thing to do at this point is ride it out, and she might as well be unconscious for that.”

“So, what? It’s not working?”

“I told you: mana doesn’t mix. There’s no telling what putting your mana in her body is going to do. The potion certainly gave her more mana, but as soon as her body tried to use it to function, the discrepancy caught and everything just sort of… failed. She’s shutting down. I can keep trying, but I don’t know what’s going to work, if anything.”

Moira rubbed a hand down her face, letting out a long sigh. “Okay, what about Headmaster Ambrose? He wants to send her away and she can’t even sit up.”

“Also an advantage of the sedative. I told him she becomes his responsibility if he comes back and she’s awake. So, theoretically, as long as she isn’t awake…”

“You want to put my best friend in a coma?”

“Not a real coma.”

“Oh, that makes it better.”

“Moira, listen. I’m not your enemy here. Honestly, you don’t have enemies, okay? People don’t just have enemies. Sure, there are your evil forces trying to destroy the spiral, but they aren’t anyone’s personal enemy. Most of the time, people are trying to help you, like I am right now.”

“Sorry, I’m just… sorry. What’s your plan?”

“I don’t really have one. But, the longer she sleeps, the more time we have.”

“And in the meantime?”

“I didn’t think I’d be saying this, but if you’ve got another one of those miracles, it might be time to use it.”

Moira perked up. “You mean like the spell? Should I do it again?” she asked, gripping Angela’s hand in preparation.

“No!” Grace swatted her hand away. “I told you to never do it again, and I stand by it. That was wildly unpredictable magic. You don’t need to be messing with that.”

“Okay, I mean, I could go talk to Laura again, just to see if she has anything.”

Grace gave a curt nod. “Yeah, yeah, that’d be good. Just be careful. Don’t take any more experimental spells from her. It may have worked once, but that was still ridiculously reckless.”

“Got it, boss.”

“Don’t ever call me that again.”

“Sorry.”

[blade-the-demon-fangirl]

How To Be A Wizard: Chapter One-Welcome To Wizard City

A Wizard101 fanfiction

I don’t own anyone except my own characters!

Chapter one: welcome to wizard city!

A wise old man leaned on his staff in exhaustion, peering into the crystal ball on his desk as if it held the answers to the universe. A gray owl wearing a cap flew onto his staff, peering into the crystal as well.

“Whooo are they, headmaster Ambrose?” the owl asked in a throaty voice.

“These seven teenagers are the key to stopping Malistaire once and for all, Gamma.” the aforementioned wizard teacher stated, stroking his beard in thought. “They come from a world that has magic, yet they don’t even believe in it! How unusual…” he murmured.

“Then we should bring them to Wizard City as soon as magically possible to teach them how to use their magic! There isn’t a moment to lose, headmaster!” The gray owl cried.

The old man sighed and adjusted the monocle on his left eye, “I suppose you are right, Gamma. The fate of the Spiral rests in their, albeit inexperienced, hands.” The owl flew off the staff and hid behind a stack of books, peeking his little grey head out to watch his master perform the spell that would bring the teenagers into their world.

In a matter of minutes and in a flash of light, there in his office stood seven teenagers. Three boys and four girls, all looking confused, worried, and scared.

The tallest boy, a latino with startling grey eyes spoke first. “Ay, what’s going on, ese?!”

“What the hell is going on…??” a girl with brown hair and light blue eyes questioned, examining her surroundings and her new comrades.

“Whoa! Check out the threads we’ve got!” a girl with tanned skin and amber eyes grinned and fingered the hem of her maroon sleeves.

Indeed, as soon as they set foot in this new world, their clothes changed from typical jeans and sneakers to cotton robes and soft but sturdy boots.

The commotion continued amongst the teenagers, as they examined themselves and questioned their whereabouts, their voices growing louder in panic.

This continued until the headmaster slammed the butt of his staff into the ground beneath him, sending out a blast of air and silencing the new students. Seven shocked faces finally acknowledged the person that brought them to Wizard City.

“I understand that you must be confused at the least, but if you will allow me to explain, then I shall.” He straightened up as much as possible, “I am Headmaster Merle Ambrose, of Ravenwood school of magical arts. This is my assistant, Gamma.” He motioned to the now revealed grey owl, who bowed in greeting. “Now, as for why I’ve brought you all here.” He gestured to the crystal ball on his desk and displayed a picture of a man with long black hair and beard. He had beady black eyes and a scowl on his face. “This is Malistaire,” he explained, “a dark wizard who seeks to destroy Wizard City for reasons unknown. He hasn’t done much yet, but he will eventually. And while I pride my school in teaching the wizards of the next generation, I fear that none of them are ready to stop this menace.” He swept a hand over the crystal and the image of Malistaire disappeared.

“Okay, that’s all well and good but…” the boy with gold eyes and long brown hair gestured amongst himself and the others, “…what makes you think that we can stop him? I mean we’re just simple humans, not mages or wizards or whatever.”

“Ah, but that is where you are mistaken.” headmaster ambrose waved his hand over the crystal ball again, this time displaying moving images of the seven teens before him. “You see, you all display great magical power that has been shown in your actions.” he turned to the latino boy. “You, young man, are Antonio Suncatcher. Your intense will and respect for others gives you the ability of divination. Storm magic.” the latino, now named Antonio, glanced at the crystal showing him at a young age sticking his finger in an electrical socket, giggling as his dark hair stood on end. He blushed in embarrassment at the image.

Merle then turned to a girl with black hair pulled into a ponytail and pretty violet eyes. “You are Angela Darkcaller, a woman whose love for others goes beyond even the grave. In turn, you have been given the ability of necromancy, the magic of the dead.” the crystal ball then showed her talking to a ghost standing above its grave. Angela smiled sweetly and forlornly, as the ghost was the spirit of her late mother.

“You, young lady, are Rowan Dragonblood,” said short-haired brunette girl with light blue eyes jumped at her name being called suddenly. “You have a cold soul yet have a warm heart, thus granting you ice magic, or thaumaturgy.” she turned to the crystal ball, which now featured her with longer hair and playing in the snow…in a tee shirt and shorts. Rowan blushed heavily, shielding her face with the hood of her robe.

The headmaster turned to the boy with lime-green eyes and disheveled blond hair. “You, my friend, are Blake Ironheart. Your spirit thrives with light and life, which is the magic you have been given. The magic of life, the theurgist’s magic.” Blake gazed fondly at the crystal ball now displaying a scene where he was making his aunt’s old withered rose bushes thrive with new life.

“You, are Calamity Moonhunter, a girl who was gifted with the magic of balance. You were given this magical talent due to your ability to adapt easily and to see things from all points of view.” the girl with amber eyes and dark brown curly hair grinned childishly as she peered into the crystal, showing her manipulating sand at the beachside.

“Oh, I remember that! You see, I was entering a sandcastle building contest and I was so desperate to win, so I tried my hardest to build the best sandcastle ever and I mean EVER, but it was still kinda disappointing and I was about to give up but then all of a sudden, I was CONTROLLING THE SAND! Can you believe it? I mean, everyone was staring at me like I was crazy, I mean, of course I’m crazy, who isn’t nowadays? And I-”

“Oh for the love of god, shut up!” the shortest girl with blonde hair and ruby red eyes shouted.

“You!” ambrose pointed to the girl who had shouted. “You, Iridian Flamerunner, have a fire in your heart that reflects your magical gift. You will have to learn to take control of your fire before it burns you.”

“Um…yes sir?” she bit her lip as she glared at the crystal ball displaying a memory of her as an infant playing with hot embers from the fireplace. The headmaster placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry young one. You are among friends who can help you master pyromancy. You won’t be alone anymore.” iridian smiled weakly as ambrose moved on to the boy with the gold eyes and long brown hair. “And lastly, Kane Wolftail. You have been given the gift of conjuring, of taming and befriending mythical beasts. You have a heart of gold and a great sense of responsibility.” the crystal ball pictured Kane helping an elderly woman walk her dogs, comforting a little girl who had scraped her knee, coming home with a straight A report card.

Ambrose stepped away from the new students and addressed them all as one. “You are the key to Wizard city’s survival. You were chosen to come to Ravenwood for a reason, to assist each other in the fall of Malistaire.” he gestured to Gamma. “It’s getting late. I will have Gamma show you to your shared room for tonight. Starting tomorrow, you will be attending classes based on your schools. But for now, I suggest you all get some sleep.”

“Wait, I’m sure we all still have questions!” Blake said, stepping forward.

“Questions I am afraid will have to wait for now,” the headmaster said. “Now, off you go. Tomorrow is a big day, after all.”

“Wow, this is soo cool!” Calamity jumped on her maroon-colored bed in excitement.

“No, this is so NOT cool!” Iridian stormed around the large, circular room in a fiery rage. “We’re stuck here with no idea why, a crackpot old man thinking we’re wizards, we don’t even know each other and we’re expected to work together to take down some guy for whatever reason!” unbeknownst to her, her feet started flickering and leaving scorched footprints in her wake.

“Uh, Iridian, you might want to calm down…” Blake said worriedly. Iridian stopped her pacing and whirled to face the Life mage.

“I’M COMPLETELY CALM!!!” she roared as flames shot out of her open mouth and hit Antonio’s long purple and gold robes.

“Ay! Caliente! Someone help!” Rowan shot a blast of ice at the latino, effectively putting out the fire. Unfortunately, it also froze his feet to the ground. “Eh…gracias, Chiquita,” he muttered.

“Ooh, so we’re practicing? Okay!” Calamity jumped off her bed and started waving her hands above her head like a madman. “Lookit what I can do!” out of thin air, it seemed, a mini tornado formed above her head and exploded into what looked like mock fireworks, getting everyone dirty with sand.

“Gah! Hey, care to cool it with the sandstorm, chica?” Antonio, who had successfully smashed the ice around his feet enough to walk, said in exasperation.

“Oopsie, my bad!” the Balance mage giggled cutely.

“Okay, everyone STOP!” Kane’s voice boomed in the large room and like he commanded, everyone stopped what they were doing as if someone had paused a movie. He took a deep breath and sat on his yellow and blue colored bed. “Look, I know this seems…well, insane to say the least,”

“Understatement of the year,” Rowan muttered.

“But we were all brought here for a reason, and that reason is to save this world.” Kane continued.

“But what about our families? Our friends, our LIVES? Do you really think we can just up and leave that behind?” Angela asked worriedly, fingering the skull brooch on her collar.

“I…” Kane hesitated. He took a great interest in his boots.

Rowan saw his hesitation and picked up where he left off. “Listen, we may be stuck here for now, but that doesn’t mean we probably won’t go home once all this is over.”

“So what you’re saying is that if we just off this Mal-whatever dude, we can go home?” Iridian interrupted.

“Yes, exactly!” Rowan said, throwing her hands in the air, accidentally freezing the ceiling in the process. “Oops…”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Kane spoke up, “but for now, let’s just get some sleep,” he pulled back the covers on his bed. “Like the old man said, we’re gonna start classes tomorrow, and we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“Okie Dokie, artichokie! G’night!” No sooner had Calamity plopped onto her own bed, she started snoring.

“Jeez, she falls asleep fast,” Iridian muttered as she took off her red and orange hat and set it beside her similar-themed bed. “But the dork’s right,” she followed Kane’s example, “The sooner we stop this guy, the sooner we can go home.”

The rest of the wizards decided to just leave it at that and call it a night.

As Rowan was removing her pale blue cloak, Kane spoke up. “Hey, Rowan?” the brunette turned and saw him sitting up, tugging on his fringe. “Thanks. For speaking up for me…I appreciate it,” His face warmed up as he glanced away from the ice mage.

“Hey, it’s no big deal. It was just impulse, y’know?” Rowan shrugged and got into bed.

“Still, it means a lot to me. Not a lot of people would do that for me.” Kane explained.

“How come?” she questioned, “you seem like a nice enough guy,”

Iridian spoke up from under her covers, “Hey if you two are done flirting yet, some of us are trying to get some sleep.”

The duo blushed and said a hasty “good night” to each other before diving under their own covers.

Tomorrow would hopefully be a bit better.