Irene stretched out in her bed, ready to enjoy yet another day off.
The diablery class hadn’t met for a whole week. Not since the incident. That wasn’t to say it was canceled. Just suspended. Supposedly they would be having regular meetings again on the first of March.
While actively attending the class, Irene hadn’t been aware of just how stressful it actually was. Between the intensity of Catherine and Eva, slipping away or making up excuses to her sister and Jordan, and the ever-present feeling of guilt just for attending, the diablery class was more worry than it was worth.
And really, what was it worth? There were so many aspects of magic to study that she could spend her entire life ignoring demons completely and still never run out of things. The shackles were the most interesting part–they fit well within the realm of warding–something Irene could see herself doing as a profession–but if the class was going to move on to the actual demon parts of diablery, Irene was contemplating dropping the class.
She’d be bound by her contract to remain silent, but that was a good thing. Doing so would just be less stress between her and her sister. A little slice of her past that she never had to bring up.
Irene only jumped a little as her alarm went off. Unfortunately, the day was not a day off for the rest of school.
Slapping the off button, Irene tossed off her covers and started the morning. A small breakfast followed after a brief shower. Once dressed, Irene began the long and grueling task of waking her dear sister.
Despite Irene purposefully making a great deal of noise between her alarm, the shower, and breakfast preparation, Shelby hadn’t budged from her bed. Black hair splayed out in a halo around her head as she lay face-down on her pillow.
“Five minutes…” Shelby mumbled as Irene flipped her onto her back.
“Remember what happened last time? Professor Zagan will kill you if you’re late again.”
“…shouldn’t have made his class first.”
Irene sighed and tore the covers off of Shelby. Her sister immediately curled in on herself, trying her best to fend off the relatively cold air.
And failing of course.
At least, she was failing. One hand scrambled around beneath her pillow from where she drew her wand. After a quick wave, the air around her warmed. Her shivers stopped immediately with a sigh of contentment.
As Shelby uncurled from the tiny ball she had contorted herself into, Irene just shook her head.
“Fine. Suit yourself. Don’t come crying to me when Professor Zagan assigns detentions for the rest of the school year.”
Irene slung her book bag over her arm and headed out of their dorm room. Shelby would probably show up just as the bell rang having skipped both breakfast and a shower. A quick freshening of the air around her and no one would be the wiser.
Air mages could cheat like that. Really, earth mages had hardly any everyday utility. Irene wasn’t complaining. Earth magic could be powerful under many circumstances. But sometimes, she wished she could spend a moment waving her wand at herself and vanish a few of the day’s problems away.
Maybe she could apply makeup with a wand? Minerals and other earthy ingredients made up a good portion of most makeups. With enough practice and control…
Irene shook her head as she headed outside. No. Makeup was a silly, trivial thing to spend time figuring out how to apply with magic. Not when there were so many other things to focus on. Enchanting and warding for one.
She didn’t even wear that much makeup in the first place.
Sighing, Irene pushed open the doors to Brakket Academy and started off towards Zagan’s class. Putting on makeup on days where his class was first was an exercise in futility. He always pushed everyone hard enough to cause at least mild sweating. Showers after class had a tendency to ruin the makeup of even the most careful of her classmates.
Though if she could figure out how to magically apply makeup, her classmates might actually treat her with some respect. Especially if she could put it on quick enough to get to the next class on time and have it look decent.
There were already some magical makeup kits. Things that changed colors throughout the day or entirely vanished acne and other blemishes. Nothing that applied it automatically, however. Not that she knew of.
Enchanting a kit to apply makeup automatically shouldn’t be hard at all. It would take a good deal of order magic to properly align everything. Order magic wasn’t something she had practiced at all. Only dabbled in for a few select classes. They would be getting proper introductions to order and chaos magic next year.
Irene veered off course. She had a couple of minutes of spare time before she needed to worry about making it to class on time. A short trip to the library could get her a decent head start on next year’s lessons.
Her sudden and unannounced course correction resulted in several problems, each worse than the last.
The first and most obvious was the student she bumped into.
Max.
They had been avoiding each other ever since Eva’s revelation of her hands and eyes. Frightened off like a coward. All despite–as Shelby was ever so fond of reminding Irene–the fact that Eva never did anything to them aside from being their friend.
Irene hadn’t thought she bumped into him very hard, but he still stumbled backwards, flailing his arms in an attempt to keep his balance.
Which led to the second problem.
Kristina.
One half of Irene’s one-time table-mates in most of their classes. Max had hung off Jordan almost as much as Shelby used to and Irene just hadn’t fit at the tables with her sister and Jordan. Until Max had started avoiding them, that is.
Since then, Irene had been extraordinarily pleased to move alongside her sister and Jordan. While Kristina never actively hurt her, she always turned a blind eye to Drew’s doings.
Max’s flailing elbow caught Kristina square in the nose. She let out a shriek, clasping at her nose even as blood spilled between her fingers.
And that led to the final problem.
Drew Wilcox.
Kristina’s ever-present shadow stepped around Max’s larger and somewhat muscular body. Before Irene could even react to what was going on, Drew’s clenched fist found its way straight into Irene’s chest.
She tumbled down to the ground, gasping for breath as books from her bag scattered over the tiles.
“I knew you were the psycho type, Coggins,” Drew said. He swung back his foot, preparing for a kick.
Irene had the presence of mind to bury her head in her arms for protection. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself.
The wind from the kick brushed by her legs with a scraping noise.
Irene opened her eyes, surprised to find herself unscathed. Unfortunately, one of her books wasn’t. It slid across the ground until it hit a wall. Another student had to jump out of the way.
“Touch my girlfriend again and I’ll–”
Drew’s chin snapped to his chest as a baseball sized clump of dirt bounced off the back of his skull.
To Drew’s credit–or a good example of just how utterly thickheaded he was–he didn’t collapse to the ground as Irene was certain she would have. Instead, he spun on his heel.
The dirt covering his head did nothing to detract from his rage-filled grimace.
“Who threw that?!” he bellowed at the gaggle of onlookers.
No one chose to respond. Everyone was either watching the show to find out what would happen next or looking between one another in confusion.
Between Drew and Kristina’s shoulders, Irene managed to catch a glimpse of a head of white hair disappearing farther into the crowd.
With no answers forthcoming, he spun back around, raising his fist again.
Irene gripped her own wand, not quite certain what to do but not willing to sit back and take a beating.
The choice was taken out of her hands when Kristina gripped his shoulder. “I need the nurse,” she said with her nose firmly pinched shut.