《Deo》Chapter 32
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(Kasm)
Bok knelt on a cushion on the floor, her back straight and her eyes closed, her mask sitting heavy on her face. Across from her knelt three children, Sen, Kest, and Deo.
Sen’s posture was terrible and tears poured from his eyes as his eyes still hurt from the temporary blinding light. To his right knelt Deo, whose back was straight but head was down. His shoulders shook with stifled sobs and tears dripped onto his lap. On his right was Kest. She slouched slightly, fiddling with her mask in her lap, her eyes cast off to the side.
Chief Bok took in a deep breath and reached up to remove her mask. She slowly tilted her head down, opening her eyes, and fixing her gaze on Deo. “How did you do that?”
She waited patiently for him to respond as his hiccuping sobs echoed off the walls... “I don’t know!”
Bok looked down, inspecting her mask in her hands before setting it down gently on the floor next to her. She folded her hands in her lap then looked at Deo again. “That is not an acceptable answer. You have to know how you did what you did.”
Deo scrubbed his tears away with the backs of his hands, “I just... thought about it and before I could say the spell it was happening!”
Bok tilted her head to the side, expression inscrutable, “so it was natural?”
Kest tried to subtly shake her head at Deo, but he didn’t notice, answering, “yeah I-I guess.”
“That’s Fol magic, you know. I could kill you right now for being a spy.”
Deo stiffened, while Kest jumped to her feet shouting, “Mother, no!”
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Bok stood as well, shooting a glare at Kest. But Kest didn’t stand down. She stepped in front of Deo and spread her arms wide, blocking him with her body. Her limbs shook. She sucked in a deep breath and shouted, “he’s not a spy.”
Bok sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Kest, calm down. I don’t think he’s a spy either.”
Kest’s arms drooped, “you don’t... but...?”
Not paying any more heed to Kest, Bok called out, “Deo!”
Deo stood, sheepishly looking up at Bok from behind Kest, “yes, ma’am?”
“Wear your mask, learn your spells...” she stepped around Kest and put a hand on his shoulder. He almost flinched away, but she held on tight to him. She leaned down, close to his ear and continued, “don’t rely on ‘natural talent’ it will forsake you.”
*
Bok left the children in the room. She only got a few steps before her footsteps were being echoed. A taller woman, in a wrinkled uniform and her mask hanging from her belt fell into step beside Bok. Lan inclined her head towards Bok and smiled at her wife. “Terrifying children again, I see.”
Bok looked at Lan for a split second, then rolled her eyes. “A little fear is good for their future.”
Lan’s eyes were a much lighter brown then most in the Kasm clan, like gemstones with flecks of bright amber inside. And her mouth was small and heart-shaped. Bok found these features rather alluring and Lan used that to her advantage, forcing her face into Bok’s view. Bok averted her gaze with reddened cheeks.
“You should be kinder to Kest. It’s not her fault.”
Bok’s expression soured, “I do not want to give her special treatment.”
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Lan stopped Bok with a hand on her wrist, “my love, you are so cold to her. Of course she’d believe you’d kill her first friend.”
Despite still being safely indoors, Bok reached for her mask. It wasn’t hanging from her belt and she realized she left it in the room with the children. Still feeling the need to cover her face, she used her free hand. “I really hope that boy isn’t a spy, Lan. Cause she needs someone who can love her.”
“You think an outcast will grow up alright just because she has another outcast to play with?” Lan tightened her grip on Bok’s arm. “She needs her mother.”
Bok pulled her arm from Lan’s, “don’t lecture me when you can barely look at her either.”
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8 84Gaslgiht
There is a common line of questioning that falls upon students within their first moments at Kingsly. “Why?”. The student asks, “Why am I here?”. This is a futile line of questioning. There are those who remember, and those who do not. I’ll spare you the technical explanation — that’s what we have teachers for. The jist is as follows: those who remember are... how do I put this... more likely. They occupy more time. and the space that time has allowed them — the pertinent amount — is experienced no matter what. Allow me to offer you a bit of personal information: I am not one who remembers. There is no time relevant to me, no space that I occupy. I exist by carving myself here, and continue to exist in the same fashion. You would do well to follow suit. Why am I here? Because I force myself to be. Because the universe, the universes, for all its kicking and screaming, cannot escort me out.
8 237The Mystic Healer
With his clan declining quickly, Lance has no choice but to do what many experts choose not to, become a dual master; training as both a warrior and a mystic.Only by becoming stronger on a much harder journey, would Lance have the opportunity to not only assist his clan, but to take one step closer to immortality!
8 168Dreamer's Notes
channeled energyA short poetry series for surreal days
8 208Reincarnated as a villainess ==Editing==
On her way home, Annie was hit by a truck to save a 6 Year old child... She thought its the end of her life, but what she didn't know that God granted her a new life,Annie woke up seeing 4 new faces, looking around to see a fancy room... As soon as she realize that she was reincarnated as the Villainess of the novel 'Melodic Fantasy'Will she ever survive in her own? Will she ever find her true love?
8 169The First Garden
In a distant world, one of magic, monsters and fantastical creatures, amidst the craggy mountains, dense forests and evergreen fields, is the world known as Elysium. An assortment of creatures inhabit the world, ranging from humans in their villages and settlements to vampires that have found comfort in the darkest of caves. Four human kingdoms stand in the four cardinal directions, each with their own personalities and cultures. Over time, Elysium has seen the rise and fall of empires, the birth and death of races, and it is no stranger to war or conflict. What is there to see in this large and unyielding world? What awaits for some is a journey of glory and riches, while all that awaits for some is death and despair. Amidst the storm of blood and swords, drowning in a sea of blood and despair, is a single man. A man whose fate is unclear, for he is neither bound by the strings of servitude or the threads of fate. Trapped between the doors of life and death, captivated by the world of men and monsters, prisoner to the scales of justice and evil. A man whose fate was never meant to be, but sometimes there is a thread whom even the fates cannot cut.
8 162