The Past

It wasn’t necessarily stalking per se.

Once classes were over, Rosaire usually went directly home while Wiley lingered, chatting with classmates and fooling around. Today, however, after the shock of seeing his black eye, Rosaire had decided to secretly stay and keep an eye on him. 

Honestly, he felt a little foolish sneaking around like this. He’d never done something so precarious before, and his heart thundered every time he had to duck behind a wall or scurry into another corridor.

Rosaire currently stood with his back pressed up against a wall, watching Wiley as he chatted with a swarm of girls. Rosaire’s eyes narrowed at the sight. How unseemly. Engaging casually with the fairer sex was quite improper. Rosaire made a mental note to reprimand Wiley for it later. 

Rosaire was abruptly jerked from his thoughts when he noticed several teenage boys making their way towards Wiley. They towered over him, their mouths curling upward into smiles that didn’t reach their eyes. Rosaire recognized them as upperclassmen but had never bothered to learn their names. He’d developed his spiritual tool already which meant next year he’d be moving to the Golden Sanctuary to begin training as an apprentice disciple. What was the point of getting close to anyone when he’d just be leaving anyways?

“Hey,” one of the teenagers called, his gaze flickering over the girls. “Mind if we borrow the half-blood for a while? There’s something important we need our little friend for.” 

Wiley’s expression didn’t change but Rosaire noticed his shoulders stiffen ever so slightly.

A few more words were exchanged between the cluster of students until the boys departed with Wiley in tow. They made a point to circle him on all sides as they walked, leaving the school grounds and making their way into the forest outlining the academy. Rosaire silently stalked after them, slipping and ducking behind tree after tree until the boys finally came to a stop. 

“There’s a new game we want to play today, half-blood,” one casually remarked, yanking an empty wine bottle from his book-bag. “Catch.” 

He hurled it through the air and Wiley’s arm shot out, easily catching it with one hand. 

“It’s called target practice” another boy added, cruel excitement dancing in his gaze. “You hold that bottle while we practice our aim, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it alright.” Wiley chuckled, eyes narrowing from behind the bottle’s rim. “And then you’re going to purposefully miss and hit me instead. What a twist.” He turned the bottle over in his hands, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Honestly, you’ve all gotten so predictable that it makes this whole bullying thing kinda boring.”

“Shut the hell up, you dirty half breed,” the boy snarled, snatching up a rock from the forest floor. 

Wiley sighed, obediently holding up the bottle. “God, even your insults are generic. You think I haven’t heard that one a million times before? Try something a little more personal. Where’s the creativity?”

“Fine, how’s this for personal?” the boy spat. “Your kind is fucking disgusting.” As he spoke, he jerked his arm forward and released the stone. It flew through the air, slamming hard against Wiley’s upper arm. 

“Yeah, that’s much better!” Wiley exclaimed, grinning despite the blossom of blood soaking through his sleeve. “Though it’s still a little vague. I’ll give that jab a solid five out of ten.” 

“You’re no better than animals,” a second boy hissed. “No one wants you here. You should have been banished along with the other fuckers who share your blood.”

Wiley’s eyes crinkled. “Oooooh, adding a little flourish of just straight up bigotry. Nice! Seven out of ten.” 

“Looking at you makes me want to puke,” a third boy snapped, snatching up a jagged stone from the forest floor. It was far larger than the one that had been thrown before, nearly the size of his fist.

Wiley let out a snort of laughter. “A little lackluster, but you’ve got the spirit. Six out of ten.” 

The half-blood’s teasing seemed to just be adding flames to the fire. Hatred flared in the boy’s eyes, his fingers curling around the stone so tightly his knuckles went white. “If you ask me, banishment wasn’t nearly enough for your kind,” he snarled. “They should have just slaughtered all you Corrupted beasts. Bet your filthy mother would’ve prefered it to rotting to death in the mid-sphere.” 

His statement was met with an onslaught of mocking jeers of agreement from the others and for the first time, Wiley’s smile actually slipped 

“Ah, so now you have nothing to say?” the third boy sneered, lifting the massive stone. “Not so high and mighty now, huh? Fucking half-blood.” He spat the final words, sending the rock flying.

Wiley instinctively shut his eyes, the jagged stone hurtling mercilessly towards him. Before it could strike however, the flash of a golden blade came shooting through the air. It moved so fast it was just a blur of light as it cleanly cut through the rock. The weapon sliced through it over and over again, its wielder mercilessly slashing the stone to pieces. 

At last, Rosaire lowered his blade, pebbles falling down around him like rainfall.