Chapter Text
“There is no such place. This soul doesn’t belong anywhere. Not in this world, not in the others.”
The booming voice of the magic mirror dominates the room, making everyone freeze in place. You stare in disbelief at the ornate white mask that peers through the darkness beyond the glass.
You were confused by everything that was happening ever since you stumbled out of one of the coffins. Like the strange talking cat that spat blue fire at you the second you woke up. You managed to kick him into the nearest wall before it succeeded in burning you to a crisp, but the encounter was still unpleasant and bizarre. Though not as bizarre as the ceremonial tomb full of coffins and strangers in dark robes.
The return and further attack of the strange cat ended as suddenly as it started. One second the beast was covering everything, including the people in robes, with blue flames. The other, it was captured in a massive collar and thrown away by levitation magic.
Your head was still spinning and aching as the so-called Headmage Crowley cheerfully explained that you woke up in a magical college. Your memory was still fuzzy, but one thing you knew for certain: the sooner you leave this place, the better. So you could only nod and explain that you couldn’t wield any magic.
You ignored the shocked gasps and mocking chuckles from the audience, ready to wake up from this strange dream. The pulsating pain in your temples made everything feel even more surreal, helping your brain to shield from all the incoming, mind-blowing information. Magic, talking animals, teleportation, and levitation? Sure, you’d go along with anything as long as you return.
But return where?
A sudden thought runs through your mind at the same time as the magical mirror announces your fate. You slowly take a few steps towards the mirror, watching your reflection in its murky darkness. The emotionless mask leaves more than enough space for you to clearly see your face. You gaze upon your tired, still eyes, which remain perfectly cold despite the surprised curve of your eyebrows. All the lines of your face seem to gravitate downward, as if you’re melting away under the soft light of numerous floating candles.
And a scar.
Scars are not something unusual for you, you recall after a moment of confusion. Your entire body is covered in all manner of them. But you’ve never seen this one.
You lean closer towards the glass, almost leaving traces of your hot breath on the pristine surface. You need to slightly tilt your head to the side to see a round scar under your chin. A perfectly healed bullet hole, at least three years old, if you have to guess.
Crowley’s nervous chattering behind your back almost goes unnoticed as you get consumed by your memories. The feeling of a gun against your neck. It’s heaviness in your hand. And splatters of bright red blood on the walls that you remark absent-mindedly, before lifelessly hitting the ground.
So, you died. That explains a lot, but at the same time, it only makes the situation stranger. Weren’t you supposed to dive into pure nothingness? Or get tortured in Hell? Or, at least, be reborn into something? What are you doing here, with your old body intact? Your memories slowly crawl back into your brain as your headache grows stronger.
“So, I assume you don’t have any alternative means to return whence you came?” Crowley's hand lands on your shoulder, attracting your attention. His metal claws slightly scratch your skin through the fabric of your clothes, dragging you back into this absurd reality. You shake your head, meeting the gaze of his glowing yellow eyes. “This is quite a peculiar situation! What am I to do with you...?” the Headmage mumbles and slowly leaves your personal space. You turn away from the mirror, facing the strange man fully. You notice that most students have already left while you were staring at your reflection. Only a few people are still dragging their feet. Some clearly want to stay and watch the show featuring the sudden intruder from another world.
“Aha!” Crowley’s sudden shout of pure joy and excitement spooks not only you but also the remaining students. Everyone scurries away as fast as they can, leaving you with the Headmage and the mirror. “There is a wonderful, abandoned house on the college grounds! It was a dorm in the past, so I assume you’ll find all the necessary furnishings in abundance, if a tad old-fashioned. Since the college is partially responsible for your presence here…” Your eyebrow twitches as you hear the word ‘partially’. Even in your numb state, this man manages to evoke all kinds of emotions in you. You start to understand why those students were in such a hurry to leave. “…I, as the gracious host I am, will provide you with a shelter until you… I mean, ‘we’ find a way to return you home! As for the food and other necessities…” Crowley puts his claws on his chin, pondering the solution. “I suppose we can afford another janitor. Yes, brilliant!” He smiles brightly at you, clearly in awe of his smarts.
“…Sure,” you speak up hoarsely. Crowley was talking for so long that your throat became a bit dry from continuous silence. You can’t wait to find a quiet corner all to yourself.
As magnanimous as the Headmage is, he’s obviously too busy to personally escort you to your new abode. You actually don’t hold this against him. It’s clearly the first day of the study year; he must have a ton of work on his shoulders. Something more important than attending to a new janitor. You still got a map of the campus from him, which helps you to navigate the surrounding area.
The Night Raven College looks like a typical magical school from fantasy stories. You look at the students riding the flying brooms above your head; at the greenhouse full of incredible plants, which you pass by on your way to the house. The curly cliffs that surround the campus, the giant moon in the night sky – nothing interests you even for a moment. Neither the numbness nor the pain in your head goes away, gnawing at you without letting you rest. You notice a dark figure standing among the trees from the corner of your eye, but as always, the second you shut your eyes and open them again, the figure is gone.
It’s just the beginning, you realize. Without any kind of medication, which you often neglected in the past, the hallucinations will get even worse soon enough. They keep their distance for now, but eventually they’ll become more frequent and detailed. You can’t give them this opportunity. Enough is enough.
You shake your head and quicken your pace. All you need is to get to the house.
Once you reach the metal fence with a wide-open creaking gate, you have to double-check the map to make sure that it’s the right place. You didn’t expect anything luxurious, but the ruins that are standing in front of you can’t be called “livable” no matter how accustomed you are to harsh conditions. There are more holes in the roof than there is actual coverage. The wooden walls dangerously wail and shake at the slightest breeze, as the house sways in the wind alongside barren trees. You can sense the stench of humidity and mold before you even enter the building.
You can only sigh and accept that this is the place where you’ll spend this night. You’ve certainly seen places worse than this.
You look back at the road beyond the fence, almost sure that you’ll be able to find a better location if you really try. But the strong gust of cold wind makes you hunch and crave some kind of shelter. So you step closer towards the house without letting yourself hesitate any longer.
“Sooo, this is where Crowley sent you, huh?” An unfamiliar voice pierces the silence of the night, reminding you of the sound of nails sliding against a chalkboard. You turn around to meet a tall stranger sitting on top of the fence. His long legs hang alongside rusty metal bars as he settles on top of the sharp spikes that adorn the tips of the fence. His positioning doesn’t look reasonable in the slightest, but the stranger pays no mind to the discomfort, focusing all his attention on you. His eyes shine as brightly as his maniacal smile, like he’s found the most interesting curiosity ever.
Maybe it was him who you saw among the trees? In hindsight, you should’ve expected some form of stalking from locals. It’s not clear how often people from other dimensions appear in this school, but it should be a somewhat rare occasion.
Everything about this guy spells trouble. His intense stare, strange insistence on ignoring literal spikes piercing his ass, and sharp-as-hell teeth. You’ve seen many people in your social circle who went above and beyond trying to look more intimidating. Most were satisfied with just tattoos and piercings, but some especially delusional ones went as far as sharpening their teeth, naively thinking that they’d look scary and not stupid as fuck.
After examining the stranger and making a ton of assumptions based on his looks alone, you decide that ignoring him completely will only cause more headache. You can easily imagine him getting violent, so your best bet would be cautious indulgence of his curiosity.
“Yes, this is my crib now. You know anything about this place?” You nod in the direction of the house without taking your eyes off the delinquent on the fence.
The guy cackles unnecessarily loudly. “Only that it’s a big old dump. Oh, and it’s haunted.” He wiggles his legs back and forth before shifting his weight and dropping to the ground without a single sign of elegance. It seems everything this guy does is obnoxious and loud. It’s a miracle how he managed to stay hidden while following you. “Here, lemme give you a tour!”
He doesn’t wait for your reply as he joyfully stomps towards the house. You just realize that Crowley didn’t give you any keys, but the stranger solves this problem right away. The door flies open from his powerful kick as the house creaks dangerously and shakes its walls in disapproval.
“Heyyy! Ghosts! Meet your new roommate!” the guy shouts into the darkness of the hallway. His mad laughter echoes in the empty building as he sprints inside. You follow him, trying to step lightly. Every wooden board under your feet looks like it’s ready to snap from any disturbance.
You enter what you assume is a common room just in time to witness the stranger land on the old sofa, sending an infinite amount of dust into the air above him. He laughs joyfully as if he’s a kid in an amusement park.
“Damn, what a shithole!” He cackles again and looks at you with a smirk. “You really gonna live here?”
You give him a noncommittal shrug, standing still in the middle of the room. There’s not much to see here, other than an exhausting amount of rotten furniture that barely leaves any spare space.
“Hey!” The tone of his voice changes immediately as he stares at you with clear annoyance. “Are you deaf? Or mute? Speak up! Whine about your shit luck! Break some stuff!” He rises up and kicks the nearest coffee table, showing you how to break furniture just in case you’re too dumb to figure it out yourself. “Or laugh about it! Put on a brave face and make some sarcastic joke! Literally do anything, you sunfish!”
You silently watch him kick the table again, this time breaking it in half. Poor fucker. He came for a show, and you’re giving him literally nothing.
You only shrug again. “I’m fine. I think I’ll go to sleep now.”
The stranger stares daggers at you and spits on the wooden floor.
“What a letdown. You’re literally more boring than that school of first-years. Should’ve stayed with Azul,” he mumbles and storms out of the house through the wide-open door.
You let out a deep sigh. Finally, you’re alone. You have no idea who this guy is and whether he’s under some substances or simply a madman, but it doesn’t matter. You have more important things on the agenda.
You look around, searching for some kind of rope or a long fabric that could be a worthy substitute. Or maybe something sharp. You have no luck in the common room, so you make your way upstairs, methodically checking every empty room. Soon you stumble upon a sudden surprise: one of the bedrooms has a private bathroom. With functioning electricity.
You almost can’t believe your eyes as you turn on and off the lights in the bathroom.
“Of course the only room with working lamps would be a fucking shitter,” you mutter to yourself as you examine the bathroom more closely. Light makes your search much easier. You can’t find any sharp objects, but your gaze quickly stops at the large mirror above the sink. You have quite a disdain for mirrors lately, so you punch the glass without giving it a second thought.
You feel the blood oozing from your knuckles as you shake your hand, sending numerous little shards flying across the room. A few pieces remain stuck to your fresh wounds, stinging your flesh, but it doesn’t matter. Your bloodied fingers grip the big shard that’s still attached to the broken mirror and rip it out of the wooden frame. It’s large and sharp enough to suit your needs.
You meet your empty gaze in the mirror. Your reflection is now fragmented, divided by the straight lines of the shattered glass. Your lips quiver in a shadow of a smirk. Second time should be the charm, right? You raise your hand and press the shard against your neck.
The bitter cold of the glass shard feels even more unpleasant than the tip of the gun against your chin. But you’re not looking for pleasure, only the stillness and silence of death. Choking on your own blood is not as fast of a death in contrast to a bullet, but it’ll have to do. A few moments of pain, and maybe this time you’ll achieve your goal.
“Wait!” A sudden scream from above makes your hand shake as it presses the shard closer to your skin. A little line of blood leaks down your neck as you raise your eyes to meet the owner of the voice.
You stare at three transparent faces that slowly appear out of the ceiling. It seems the mad stranger was right; this place is actually haunted. There is no doubt in your mind that you’re looking at real ghosts.
“Wha- what are you doing, young man?!” the huge ghost exclaims with worry and flies towards you. “Sharp glass is not a toy! Put it down!”
“Right! We don’t need another ghost here! It’s already too cramped in the attic!” The smallest ghost nods nervously, hovering behind your back. You grip your shard tighter, fully expecting them to try to snatch it from you.
“What happened? Did you get rejected by someone you fancy? Did you get expelled on your first day? Whatever it is, we’ll try to help!” The slim ghost waves his hands at you, trying to calm you down.
“Look, it’s fine; I’ve done it before.” You rub your face with your other hand, struggling to come up with the right words. “I’m from another world. And I got tossed here after I shot my brains out. I don’t know why I’m here, but it doesn’t matter. I just want to finish what I started.”
All three ghosts gasp as you once again press the glass against your throat.
“No, no, no! Young man, you’re making a big mistake!” The huge ghost shakes his head in panic. “Why is such youth even thinking about death?! There is so much to live for!”
“Well, not for me.” You frown at the noisy audience. Your path to death is becoming more absurd by the second. “I’m fucking tired. All I want is some peace and quiet.”
“B-but!” The slim ghost hovers closer, eyeing the glass in your hand with fear. “You won’t actually die! You’ll be like us! Look at us! We’re ghosts! And let me tell you, our life is just as rowdy as ever!”
Your annoyance turns into pure confusion as you let his words sink in. That’s right, this damn magical world has ghosts. You don’t want to become an immortal blob of ectoplasm. It’s literally the opposite of what you want!
It always was so easy to ignore the physical pain, to hurt yourself over and over for some greater purpose. You were always ready to do what needed to be done, and your death is just another goal on your list. Another greater purpose that will grant you freedom from all the pain.
You’ve done it before, and you’re sure that you can do it again. But you hesitate as sudden fear crawls into your heart. What awaits you after your death this time? Will you turn into a ghost and haunt this shell of a house? Or will you be transported into a different world once again?
You slowly lower the glass and drop it to the floor as all three ghosts sigh in relief. Your blood leaks from your wounded hand and drips on the forgotten shard, painting it red. You examine the ghosts, thinking about what you should do next.
You could ask them about the afterlife, but they clearly want to keep you alive. They are not a reliable source of information, to put it lightly. So, you need an alternative. This place should have books, right? A library?
“So, um…” The tiny ghost moves closer to you, comfortingly putting his hand on your shoulder. You shudder from how cold his touch feels. “What are you doing here? We woke up once we heard someone destroying the furniture downstairs, and then we found you here… Who are you?”
You rub your face in a tired motion, still feeling heaviness in your temples. And you were so close to getting rid of your constant headache.
“I’m the new janitor,” you sigh with finality, accepting that you’ll have to live just a bit longer.
Who knew that killing yourself would be so difficult?
***
“I always thought you were too smart to play a hero.” She swallows down the tears and smiles through pain. Her hand points a knife at you, but her fingers are weak and shaky. She’ll never be able to kill you with such a sloppy grip. “You should’ve told me that you were a rat.”
“I wanted to keep you safe.”
“Safe?! You thought ignorance guaranteed my safety?!” Her whole body shakes from anger and nervous laughter. “Well, look how it all turned out! Everybody’s dead, and now they order me to kill you! You know what they’ll do to me if I fail!”
“I know.”
“Where is the damn cop you were working with? Tell me that all of this was worth it!”
“It wasn’t. He’s dead.”
All the energy leaves her body in an instant as she drops on her knees in defeat. She still shakes in hysterical laughter, sinking into madness. The fresh mark on her arm shows you that she injected drugs just before your arrival. And to think that just two years ago she was so afraid of needles that you had to help her with her estrogen shots.
Her laughter stops abruptly as she stares on the floor with a calm expression, suddenly ending her fit of hysterics. “So it was all for nothing. Nobody will help us,” she mumbles and sighs with acceptance, almost looking like her old self.
Her head jerks up as she stares at you with an idea in mind. She jumps to her feet and rushes towards you, shoving the handle of the knife into your palm.
“You do it. Kill me. I know that you’ll be quick and gentle.” She grabs your unresponsive hand and makes you grip the knife tighter as she points it at her chest. “Better you than them. I even doubt that they’ll let me die after all of this. Please.”
“You promised that we’ll get out of it together. You promised that we’ll start a new life. We can still do it. Don’t give up again.”
“Please,” she repeats as tears fall down her sunken cheeks. “I’m so tired. I’m not as strong as you. Never was. I’m sorry.”
***
You open your eyes, unable to move a muscle. Your body is so stiff that you can barely breathe, let alone make any kind of motion. Panic tears at your fast-beating heart as you try to regain control over your body. Quiet whispers above your head help you focus and slowly calm down.
“It’s a good thing that he is a janitor. Some time in fresh air and physical activities will set him straight.”
“I heard that pets are great for mental health. We have lots of spiders, maybe they will do?”
“No, he needs someone to pet, not accidentally squash under his hands. Spiders won’t do.”
“Maybe giant spiders? There are some in the woods. But I don’t know if they are venomous or not…”
“…We’ll put this idea in a ‘maybe’ category.”
They don’t seem to notice that you’re awake, and you prefer to keep it this way. You quickly close your eyes, knowing too well that you won’t get any more sleep tonight.
This ghostly council decided that the best place to discuss you is right above your head, literally on your ceiling. You can understand why they are hesitant to leave you alone. As far as they know, you might hang yourself with your bedsheets the second they turn their backs on you.
But strangely enough, now your goal is to survive. At least long enough to figure out how to die and avoid turning into a ghost.
You’ve let them patch you up by enveloping your neck and hand into some white fabric. There are no meds or even proper bandages for your wounds in this house, so you can only hope that you won’t die from a blood infection.
“I think that most of all, he needs friends.” Ghostly whisperings almost lull you back to sleep, but you’re simply unable to relax. Your muscles feel like they are made of stone, but you do your best to give your body at least some kind of rest.
“We can be his friends!”
“No, living ones. The more time he spends with living beings, the fewer macabre thoughts he’ll have.”
“I agree. He already lives in a half-destroyed house with ghosts and spiders. He needs something… warmer.”
“So we’re all in agreement? Finding friends should be our priority!”
You sigh heavily, trying to hide it from the ghosts. You’re almost grateful for their readiness to improve your life despite your lack of desire to change. But it won’t hurt to humor them just a bit while you’re still their roommate.
***
“Where are all the spiders when you need them?” the tiny ghost mumbles as he flies around, checking the roots of the nearby trees.
“Since your hand is damaged,” the huge ghost says as he hovers in front of you and points at a rake in your hands, “you need to change your stance to put more pressure on the other hand. Watch me! Put your feet like so…” He demonstrates the correct stance for you, completely forgetting that his ghostly form doesn’t have legs.
“Maybe this one? No, he looks like a troublemaker…” The slim ghost hides in the bushes next to the main road with seven statues, observing the students that hurry to their first lectures. A green-haired guy marches past his hiding spot. He looks like a soldier ready to step on a battlefield. He definitely doesn’t seem like the type of person you’d get along with.
You hold back a soft chuckle and continue raking the leaves that fell on the otherwise pristine green lawn.
Crowley, in his endless magnanimity, completely forgot to give you any tasks for your first day as a janitor. Luckily for the Headmage, the ghosts were ready to provide you with as many tasks as you needed. All for the sake of “physical activities in fresh air”, of course. It still isn’t clear whether the ghosts work or just live here because nobody cares enough to kick them out of the school grounds. But they consider the Ramshackle Dorm, as they call it, their home, and they officially welcomed you to it this morning by presenting you a delicious grilled-cheese sandwich.
You have no idea where they got it; the kitchen is covered in giant webs just as much as the rest of the house, and you are willing to let it stay that way. Your recent distaste for mirrors can only be surpassed by your lifelong hatred of kitchens and cooking in general. You’ve had… very bad experiences involving kitchens in the past.
You shake off the grim thoughts, focusing on the leaves under your feet. You’ve already created quite a big pile of them, which only keeps getting bigger.
Until it gets engulfed in blue flames, that is.
You stop to look at the strange bonfire as the ghosts float above you, shouting in worry. “Don’t go anywhere near those flames, young man! It’ll be a very painful way to go!”
You roll your eyes at the remark. Fire must be the last on your list of possible ways to kill yourself. But it seems the ghosts are sure that you’re desperate enough to try anything at this point.
“Ha!” A chubby creature jumps from behind the burning leaves, straightening up on its hind legs. It looks proudly at the fire and smirks at you with defiance in its gaze. You recognize the cat from before. It no longer has a heavy collar around its neck, so it’s free to use magic however it pleases. “So! You’re that human that kicked me in the face! See those leaves? How they burn under my mighty fire?! Yeah, the same will happen to your empty head in a second!”
The beast breathes in deeply, aiming its maw at you. The ghosts fly around in panic. And you simply sigh, waving your quiet morning goodbye.
It would be a bit cruel to hit the creature with the sharp tines, so you flip around the rake in your hands and hit the monster with the end of the wooden handle. It chokes on its own flames as the stick strikes its belly and sends it flying in the direction of the main road.
“What the hell?!”
You hear where the cat lands before you even turn your head. Some poor red-headed guy caught it with his face and now tries to tear it away. The creature pierces its claws into his skin, making the student shout in pain.
“Get it off! Get it off! Get! It! Off!” He screams and fights the clingy cat, but it freezes in fear and doesn’t let go. Luckily, another student passes by and is kind enough to try to help.
“Hold on!” The guy with short dark hair and blue eyes seems to be much stronger than his slender build suggests. He effortlessly removes the monster from its victim’s face and tosses it on the ground. “What is this thing?”
You approach the road and watch the show from the sidelines, leaning on one of the massive marble statues that adorn the path to school. You still hold the rake in your hands, just in case you need to defend yourself again.
“Thing?! You stupid human!” the beast hisses at the two guys as it gets up, ready for another attack. “I’m Grim! The future Greatest Mage! In the world! Bow and apologize before I burn every one of you!”
“Wait, you’re that weasel that almost ruined the ceremony!” The first guy points at the creature and grabs some kind of pen with his other hand. His entire face is covered in scratches, and the hair sticks out wildly, like he just was in the middle of a hurricane. Then his red eyes glance in your direction. “And you’re that weirdo without magic! What, you two losers teamed up and now attack the actually competent mages? Is that it?!”
“As if I’d ever teamed up with this jerk!” Grim protests immediately. His head turns around back and forth as he struggles to decide who he should destroy first. The snarky student currently looks even more punchable than you do.
“Please, let’s all calm down.” The second guy steps closer and raises his hands in an attempt to deescalate the situation. “No need to cause a scene on our first day. Let’s just…”
“Oh, shut up, Juice!” The annoying guy rolls his eyes at his savior. “It’s none of your business!”
“I’m Deuce! There is a ‘D’ sound in my name, you deaf moron!” Deuce loses his decorum straight away, clenching his fists and ready to jump the red-headed guy alongside Grim. He glares at his opponent with murderous intent, twisting his face in a threatening expression. Even the rude guy is taken aback by such swift change.
“Hey… Fine, no need to scream like that,” he mumbles, taking a step back. Grim uses this distraction to attack him from the side.
With a quick “puff”, Grim effortlessly blows out blue flames in the student’s direction. The guy manages to react impressively fast by waving his pen and casting a gust of wind. Two spells meet in the air, rerouting the flames to the side. But not far enough.
“Ace! Your hair is on fire!” Deuce screams as the ends of Ace’s red hair sizzle from Grim’s attack. It takes only a second for the blue fire to burn brighter, making Ace genuinely panic for the second time in two minutes.
“Shit! Put it out! Put! It! Out!” He waves his pen around, but the wind he summons only makes things worse, making the fire even bigger. Grim cackles in the background, lying on his back and holding his belly, unable to stop laughing.
“Right! We need water!” Deuce waves his pen at Ace, trying to summon something. But he clearly struggles to use the right spell. “Ugh! Why isn’t it working?!” He waves his pen in frustration in wide strokes, as if he wants to cover the whole road with water.
Finally, his spell works. Just not the way he intended. A giant cauldron appears out of thin air just as Deuce waves his pen in Grim’s direction. The cackling monster gets squashed under the heavy object, to Deuce’s shock.
“Why is it always cauldrons?! Why can’t I summon anything else?!” he shouts in distress, seemingly abandoning his attempts to save Ace for the second time.
You notice that you’re smiling at the sheer stupidity you witness in front of you. You just have to help these poor idiots. So you leave your rake on the ground and pick up the bucket that was standing near one of the statues. It was there for your second task of cleaning the statues, but you’ll have to use the water inside for other means.
A powerful waterfall hits Ace’s head as you pour all the liquid at once. He blinks at you, soaking wet, but still with most of his hair intact. It seems. It’s hard to tell when it hangs down lifelessly like this.
You don’t wait for his thanks, mainly because he doesn’t seem to know this word, and turn towards the poor squished cat. You roll a very real and very heavy cauldron to the side, releasing the creature. Grim looks worse for wear, but he’s breathing, at least. He slowly opens his blue eyes and stares at you in confusion.
“How many fingers do you see?” You raise two fingers and ask the most basic thing to figure out whether Grim got any brain injury. If his perception is fine, he should be all right.
“Two?” The answer doesn’t sound very confident, but it’s good enough. And very impressive, given how heavy the cauldron is.
“Good job. You’re tougher than you look.” A bit of kindness can go a long way and help avoid a lot of headaches in the future. Ace’s example is very demonstrative.
“As if such a lousy spell could defeat Grim the Great!” The monster confirms your words by immediately standing up and smirking pridefully.
“You.” A low growl behind your back captures your attention. Ace clenches the pen in his fist, almost breaking it in half, as he glares at Grim with sheer wrath. “Do you know how long it took for me to do my hair this morning?!”
“Wait, so the miserable clown look was intentional?” you ask faster than you think. In your defense, his hairstyle actually looked strange. You thought it was just an aftermath of Grim clinging to his face.
Come to think of it, that crazy stranger also looked weird with his short teal hair and a single long dark streak on the side. Fashion is definitely much different here.
You stop daydreaming as you notice Ace’s eye twitch from your question. If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now.
“I didn’t mean it as a dig. You looked… nice.” You genuinely try to sound friendly, but your words only make the situation worse.
You notice Ace raising his pen just in time for you to grab Grim and jump to the side. A deep crack forms at the very spot you two were just a second ago. So Ace’s wind magic is no joke when he gets serious.
“What are you doing?!” You hear Deuce’s angry shout behind your back, but you have no time to glance at him. Another blow comes in your direction as you barely dodge it by rolling behind one of the statues.
“Hey! Let me go!" Grim wiggles in your grip, and you press him to your chest.
“Sit still!” you grunt and decide that the best solution is to leave the area. Deuce is useless, the bystanders do not intervene, and the ghosts…
“We’ll call a teacher!” they yell while disappearing into nothingness. Well, it’ll help in the long run, but you need to survive until said teacher comes and saves you. So once another wind blade lands right nearby, you sprint away, not giving Ace time to prepare the next attack.
“Get back here!” You hear him scream, but you have your doubts that he just wants to talk it out. Usually you’d beat Ace without breaking a sweat, but magic sure adds some spice into confrontations. You need to at least learn how it works before taking risks.
So you run, mostly trying to wear out your pursuer. Or even pursuers. You think you hear Deuce’s voice alongside Ace’s.
Running in a straight line would be rather stupid, so you try to maneuver your way between trees, benches, and other people. Do you feel bad for using other students as a meat shield? After a moment of careful deliberation, you decide that you genuinely don’t give a fuck.
So you grab the first random sluggish guy that blocks your path by his arm and hurl him backwards in Ace’s direction. Which is surprisingly hard to do. You thought that he’d be a pushover, but you have to use all your strength to toss him to the side. You notice bright white hair and a green uniform as he stumbles back, but you have no time to witness the collision. Loud curses and confused mumbling are all you need to hear to confirm that you hit your target.
When you reach the entrance of the main building, you hurry inside and press yourself against the wall behind one of the columns. As much as you tried to cover your tracks, you still were forced to choose the most obvious direction once you faced a dead end. So now you’re inside the college, right where those two will go straight away.
“Hm.” Unlike you, Grim doesn’t have any sense of urgency. He sniffs the air with his black nose and wiggles restlessly in your arms. “Hey! This way!” He points his paw in the direction of some big, noisy hall. Thinking that it’s as good of a direction as any, you silently follow his lead.
Of course the little monster leads you straight into the cafeteria. It’s full to the brim with hungry students that come here first thing in the morning for some delicious breakfast. You recognize the grilled cheese sandwiches lying on a plate of one of the students. Your ghosts must’ve gotten your breakfast here.
It makes even more sense when you see that all the cooks here are ghosts as well. They work diligently, but ravenous young men still form giant queues that fill half the space in the cafeteria. The second half is occupied by neat tables and the students who woke up earlier and managed to get their food already.
“Hey! Let’s grab something to eat!” Grim jumps in your arms, urging you to approach the ghosts. He doesn’t leave your grip, seemingly getting used to you carrying him around. Why exhaust himself when a human-servant can do all the walking for him? Luckily for Grim, he’s soft and fluffy, so you don’t mind the extra weight.
“You think we can just take it? Is it free?” You look around, trying to understand whether students pay for their food. Then again, neither you nor Grim are students.
“Who cares? Eat first, ask questions later.”
It’s a good motto to live by, you admit, so you obediently approach the end of the line.
“There you are!”
Either your hiding spot is too obvious, or Ace has just as good sense of smell as Grim. Or he’s just hungry and accidentally got lucky. Either way, he finds you at last. Deuce stumbles into the cafeteria right after him, looking less tired after all the running than any of you. And judging by his crumpled shirt and stink eye he gives you, the guy you tossed earlier might’ve landed on him instead of Ace.
Grim also notices the dynamic duo and jumps on the floor, ready to spit fire at them.
But for some reason neither Ace nor Deuce attacks you, looking at their pens with worry. The gems at the end of each pen look a bit murkier than before, but you have no idea what it means.
“What? You finally understand that you’re no match for the mighty Grim, huh?!” The monster grins and summons a tiny flame in his paw, showing off his magic. “Or are you tired? You’re so weak that you can’t cast any spells?”
“Oh, shut up already!” Ace shouts in frustration and points a pen at Grim. A crowd starts gathering around your little group, curious to see what you’re up to. No doubt many of them recognize both you and Grim. You’ve made quite an impression after all. “You were carried around like a plushie by this… weirdo! So don’t even talk about tiredness and stuff!”
To be fair, Ace does look pretty rough. All those scratches, then fire, then water, and then running left quite a toll on his appearance. The guy is having a very rough first day.
“A plushie?! Okay, now you’ve done it!” Grim hisses and breathes in as much air as possible, preparing to obliterate Ace and all the bystanders.
“Ace, calm down!” Deuce grabs his arm, but Ace just shakes him off. “If you continue casting spells, at this rate…”
“I told you to shut up, Juice!” Ace snaps at him, sending Deuce into fighting mode once again.
Two attacks fly at Ace at the same time: the cauldron and the blue fire. The guy surprises you again with the swiftness of his reaction as he casts an especially strong gust of wind and sends both projectiles upwards. Together with Grim. The air current is so unnaturally strong that most people nearby get swooped to the floor, including you. Grim, not having the advantage of a human size, goes flying along the cauldron and fire.
Your eyes follow him as he flies through the cafeteria. You try to calculate the trajectory and rush to the spot where he is about to land. But soon you realize that he won’t land at all.
Thanks to his small size, Grim is the first one to collide with a giant chandelier in the center of the ceiling. It swings from side to side but effortlessly withstands the little creature. When the cauldron hits its frame shortly after, all the students below hear the crumbling of the ceiling above them. They scatter away just before the blue fireball finishes the job and sets the entire chandelier aflame, crushing it to the floor with a deafening noise. Grim plummets down onto the remains of the ancient piece of decor, seemingly unconscious.
“Who. Is. Responsible. For THIS?!”
You sigh heavily, realizing that this will be a very long and tiresome day.