“What?” I gasp at Zephen, eyes wide with terror, his words barely registering in my mind. “You’re going to let them all attack me?”

He smiles. “That’s right.”

“You can’t be serious!” I cry, taking several steps backwards and scanning the crowd frantically, trying to find someone who’s on my side. No one speaks. Damn cowards!

“I’m always serious, Kay.” He says, still in that pleasant tone that makes me want to strangle him. “You don’t have to worry. You won’t get hurt…badly. It’s just to speed up the magic in your body. When you’re threatened, it’s more likely to come out.”

“That’s—” I sputter, unable to believe the words I’m hearing. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Ready?”

I shake my head rapidly. No, no no no no nonononono.

“Start!” He yells, and although most students hesitate, Cain is always first to step up and sends a ball of water my way. I think he was itching to do that since yesterday.

Thanks to my quick instincts, I manage to dodge it narrowly, diving to the side and crashing onto the ground, pain shooting through me.

His initiation encourages others, who starts launching attacks at me.

I begin to back away, my body still unable to catch up with the situation.

I am horribly out of shape, I realize quickly, yelling, “This is crazy!”

“I can do crazy.” Zephen almost looks cruel with his eyes blazing green and a smile on his handsome face. “Concentrate on getting your magic out, Kay.”

“I can’t!” I shout furiously as I duck before I can get decapitated by a spinning sword. Who the hell gave these students weapons when they’re dangerous enough as is? Damn Fay!

Something cuts my arm, making me seethe in pain, clutching the wound as it weeps blood. In my peripheral vision, I see pointed rocks raised in the air, aimed for me.

I kick off running, going in a zig-zag pattern in hopes I can throw off their aiming.

The dirt and soil underneath my feet becomes increasingly difficult to step on, becoming uneven and breaking apart.

Some parts stick up like spears, knocking me off my course and forcing me to take a sharp turn where more students are waiting for me.

My legs and lungs burn, tears in my eyes as I start to seriously fear for my life. This is not a joke. This is not a game.

I’m actually going to die.

I’m going to—

Vines wrap themselves around my ankles, tripping me and making me crash into the ground, scraping skin off my arms, and I hear a quiet snap in my wrist which makes me cry out.

My mind is screaming, though no sound leaves my lips from the shock.

The vines pull me, and I desperately clutch onto the soft blades of grass for dear life. I feel a chill build inside my body, water gurgling up my throat and making me choke.

I can't breathe as I begin to drown.

“Enough.”

A sharp blast of wind cuts the vines around my ankles, making them go limp. The water in my lungs disappear, but I still try to cough it out.

My body aches and I’m still gasping, blinking tears away. My vision is blurry, the entire world spinning around me.

Am I still breathing? I gasp for breath again, unsure if my lungs are working.

“Lord Gale!” I hear a sharp voice pierce through the thickening, suffocating silence. “We have strict rules to never harm our students!”

I don’t hear a response. No one speaks, no one moves—no one even dares breathe.

Other than me, of course, because I’m still a panting mess on the floor, clawing at my throat as I feel air try to get in but my body rejecting it.

Professor Sofronio continues on furiously, “Lord Gale, do you hear me? This will never happen again.”

“No, it won’t.” Soft footsteps approach me, someone pull me up into a sitting position. My eyes are still blurry, but I can make out silver and green. Zephen.

I lean heavily against him, trying to control my ragged breathing but every breath hurts and I feel like crying again.

I want to go home I want to go home I want to go home.

His cold hands touch my bleeding raw arms and I flinch, hissing. He says, in a much gentler tone, “We’ll get you to a Potion Master to heal these.”

Although he's trying to be gentle, the disappointment in his tone is unmistakeable. My heart spiral downwards, burying itself in the ground.

How can he still hold me like this after what he just did? After what he made all my classmates do? After almost killing me? How can he still be so calm and act as I didn't just get badly injured because of him?

“Don’t touch me.” I rasp, trying to push him away but my arms hurt and my heart hurts and my eyes sting. “Don’t you dare touch me. I hate you.”

His arms fall limp from around me and I fall forward, my body crumpling. I don’t look at him—can’t. It’s hard to even lift up my head.

I press my sore palm on the dirt—my good arm, the other wrist already swollen and purple-green—trying to push myself up to stand. My arm shakes like jelly, unable to carry my weight.

More blood drips down, tainting the soil, watering them. I tremble, my strength waning and the world is fuzzy, dissolving around me.

My body gives way, collapsing, only to be caught my Zephen’s strong arms. “Hey, hey. Don’t move.”

“I hate you.” I repeat, but it comes out more like a sob, though it hurts to even cry.

I don’t have the strength to even be angry anymore. I’m ready to give up.

I’m ready to just lie here for eternity and pretend everything was a nightmare, that I’m back home with dad who will come into my room and give me a cup of warm milk before bed.

My vision is darkening alarmingly, and it’s hard to keep my eyes open. I can almost imagine dad right here. I can almost hold his hand in mine.

Zephen cradles me against his chest, lifting me up. “I know. Just hang on, okay?”

A gust of cool wind wraps around me like a blanket, the only thing I can still feel over the pain and hot trickling of blood.

I can’t hear him anymore. Can’t feel. He’s not here. I’m back home with dad, sipping on warm milk.

The world spins and darkens.

And then I’m gone.