Morningstar

“You won’t let that go, will you?” East asks.

“Of course not,” Slier answers. There is an open hallway where almost no one passes through. It is their usual spot. They sit on the ledge and talk for hours. It is one of the things that East likes the most. “East the Great lost a flag war against Slier the Weak.”

“No one says that you are weak,” East says. He takes a gulp from the bottle of rum and passes it to Slier.

“And now they never will,” she says. “I am the strongest of the two.”

He finds himself smiling as she takes another sip from the bottle. “No one said that also,” East says. “I am the strongest, not you.”

“Want to settle this?” Slier asks. “I can take you right now in here. You are going to be moaning my name after I am through with you.”

“In what sense?” East asks, extending his grin. She opens her mouth to answer a comeback, but someone interrupts them.

“Mr. East, Miss Lord, I apologize for my interruption,” Sonny says as she approaches. She is Morning’s right hand. Her blonde hair is always tied up in a perfect bun with a pen jabbed in it. She wears pointy glasses and is always holding a book in her arms. “Morning would like to have a word with you.”

East looks at Slier, exchanging his concern. She turns to Sonny and nods. Slier hands the bottle of rum back to East. He places the lid again and hides it behind a bush. As they follow Sonny, East tries to breathe calmly. He does not want to lose his balance when he is in front of Morning.

As they walk the steps, East cannot help but criticize in his mind the cathedral again. It is painted the same yellow as Morning’s robe. It is the only building at Morningstar that has light colors. When they enter, the first thing is a room and an altar. There is a stone statue of Morning at the altar and in front of it is Morning himself.

East and Slier approaches. They kneel in front of him.

“Stand up,” Morning says. They oblige. “It is of no surprise that you two are the strongest students at Morningstar.”

“Thank you, sir,” Slier says.

“Would you like to graduate?” Morning asks.

“We would like that very much,” Slier says.

“But we have the trials,” East says. Why is he asking that? “We have passed one, but there are three more.”

“What if I tell you that even if you fail those trials, you will graduate?” Morning says. What’s the catch?

“Wouldn’t that be breaking the rules?” Slier asks.

“Miss Lord, I create the rules,” Morning says. “I decide who graduate and who doesn’t.”

“But isn’t that the purpose of the trials?” East asks.

“It is but, in the end, I have the last word,” Morning says. “If you want to graduate, no matter if you fail the trials, I can offer that. All that you have to do is a favor for me.”

“Anything,” Slier says without letting East think.

“There is a student among us that is a witch,” Morning says.

“A witch? Like a green woman with a broom?” East asks.

“No,” Morning says. “Witches come in every size and colors, even gender. They take our appearance and blend among us. This morning, I sensed one witch among us. I need you to kill it.”

“And if we kill them, you will let us graduate?” Slier asks.

“Yes,” Morning says, “and more.”

Slier looks at East. Just kill one person. They have killed many people before. One person will be nothing. He nods at Slier.

“We’ll do it,” Slier says.

“I wish you the best, witch-hunters.”

***

Icarus is standing meters away from Phoenix. He is looking directly at her eyes. He blocks the signals from his body. He refuses to hear his body. He refuses to give into temptation. Phoenix moves towards him and lifts her hand towards his mask. He catches her wrist, stopping her.

“Take off the mask,” she orders.

“No,” he says. He feels her warm skin where he is touching her.

“I did not ask!” she says. Icarus wants to react. He wants to say what he is thinking, not what he is supposed to say. She closes her eyes and leaves them closed. Icarus remains silent as he looks at her. Slowly, he lifts her hand to his face and the touch sends a shiver through him.

She takes his mask off and pushes herself on him. She kisses him on the lips, not opening her eyes to look at him, not even once. She jumps on top of him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He does not want to give in. His body does not make the choices.

“God, I hate you,” she says between kisses.

Something in those words makes him awake. He wraps his arms around her and takes the lead on the kisses. He carries her to his bed and falls with her on it. His hand lowers to her waist and then her hip. He pulls her close, closer and closer. He feels that there is still too much distance between them.

“Say it again,” he says. “Say it.”

“I hate you,” she repeats. “I hate you.”

He kisses her stronger and with more passion. He knows what is going on. He is doing something that he would never do. He is doing something that goes against every instinct. He is ignoring his judgement. He is ignoring his conscious. He is ignoring his moral compass. He wants her to hate him. He wants to do something that he is not supposed to do.

He pulls back. No. He should not be doing this. He sits on the corner of the bed as he holds his mask in his hand.

“I should not be doing this,” he says. He holds his head on his hands. He hears her move on the bed and he turns away to keep his face hidden. He places his mask on.

“But you want to,” she says.

“No,” he says as he stands up. “It does not matter what I want. You should leave.” He stands up. He needs fresh air.

Phoenix stands up after him. “I won’t leave,” she says. “I want you to be honest for once. You say something but your body tells the opposite. Do you want me?”

“No,” he says as fast as he can.

She moves closer to him. She takes his right hand and takes it up to her cheek. “I am going to repeat again,” she says. “Do you want me?”

His left hands go to her face too. He brushes her with his thumbs. He wants her. He obviously wants her. He wants to kiss her again. He wants to have her close again. He stares into her blue eyes as he realizes that he cannot have her. He should not have her. “No.”

She shoves him back. “Fuck you!” she yells and before Icarus could say something more, he hears the door close.

***

Vil hears a voice. She opens her eyes. She hears the voice again. She turns on her bed. The moonlight allows her to see the shadows of her roommates. They are all sleeping. Even Idris is sleeping with another figure on the bed. She must have brought someone to make her company.

The voice calls again. Where is it coming from? She sits up on the edge of the bed, pushing the sheets off. She is tired of that voice. She goes to her wardrobe and pulls a pair of pants. She puts them on. She is going to find the voice.

She walks out of her room, barefoot. There is a chill in the hallway. She tiptoes down the stairs and outside, where she stops to wait for the voice. She hears it call again and she follows. As she walks, she hears the voice louder and the air continues to become chillier.

She stops outside of an abandoned building. She walks up the steps and cleans the plaque with her hand beside the door. The building is named Troll. She has never heard about this building before, but she thinks that it does not matter. She shrugs as she enters the building.

The wallpapers of the building are all teared up, revealing wood underneath. The floor creeks as she stomps it barefoot. She holds her arms, moving her hands to warm them. She continues going inside until she finds it.

A transparent figure is sitting by an old piano. Vil guesses that she is a woman. She is wearing a nightgown and her long hair is loose. She begins to play on the piano lazily, touching the keys and making it sing. She turns to look at Vil. Vil does not take her eyes from her as the figure continues to call for something or someone that Vil cannot understand. Is she singing?

Then the figure stops playing and wailing. “Can-Can-Can you see m-me?” the figure asks.

Vil opens her mouth to answer. “Don’t answer!” she hears someone say. Icarus appears by the door. He moves between Vil and the transparent figure. “By the power blessed by Saint Shelley, I allow you to rest for the night.” The figure vanishes, leaving nothing behind.

“What was that?” Vil asks. The room is turning warmer.

“That’s a wraith,” Icarus says as he searches the room for something. “They are wondering the mortal world, searching for something that they left or didn’t fulfill when they were alive.”

“Why can’t I talk to her?” Vil asks.

“Because if you do, you will form a bond,” Icarus says. “She will never leave your side until you manage to set them to rest.” He stops in front of her. “Listen closely, ignore every voice that you hear at night. Do not talk to any spirit. And do not mention this to anyone.”

“Why?” Vil asks.

“Trust me,” Icarus says. “Return to your dorm. I’ll explain everything tomorrow.”

“But–”

“Vil,” he warns.

“Fine,” Vil says and heads back the way she came.

***

Moneo is as happy as he can be as he jumps from a branch to another. It is early morning and the sun has just come out. He jumps to the air and grabs a vine to swing to the next tree. He catches a glimpse of Kobo jumping near him. He is grinning also.

“Are you boys done?” Fey shouts from below.

“No,” Moneo shouts back. “Why don’t you join us?”

“Because Icarus might drain our energy at practice,” she answers.

Moneo grabs a vine and lets himself slide down. He lands on his feet next to Beta. He kisses her on the lips. He just can’t get enough of her. When Kobo lands, Moneo turns to Fey. “He won’t drain us,” he says. “He will put us to play chess again.”

“Well, he yesterday made me sweat,” Beta says.

“Oh, yeah, the wind thing,” Moneo says, remembering what Beta told him that happened when she was with Icarus.

“I am hungry,” Kobo says.

“We are going to eat breakfast now,” Fey says.

“Stop repeating that,” Beta tells Moneo. “Icarus did not want anyone to know.”

“But you told us,” Kobo says.

“I told you because I trust you,” Beta says as she begins walking, “and I trust that you won’t tell anyone else.”

Moneo wipes his hands on his pants and steals Beta’s hand. She only looks at him as he smirks. The most beautiful woman at Morningstar is his, and he will never let her go. He takes her hand to his lips before kissing it and lowering it.

“Anyway, if you possess that weird ability, it will be better,” Moneo says. “It will help us on our hunting.”

“But it might also make me an outcast,” Beta says.

“Oh, darling, our whole group are outcasts,” Moneo says.

“Speak for yourself,” Fey says. She flips her blonde hair with her hand. “I am as popular as Tilray and Phoenix.”

“Maybe it is because you play with men,” Moneo says. Fey smacks him on the head and Kobo snorts in response.

They arrive at the lunchroom. They each make the line and grab their food. Moneo usually grabs something extra for Kobo because the maximum amount that he is allowed to take is not enough. As Moneo picks up his tray, he sees Fey approaching Icarus, who has just arrived.

“Hey, teach,” she says. “Why don’t you sit with us?”

“I am flattered but I am in a rush,” Icarus says as he watches the food.

“Why are you looking at the food? Take the green apple. That is what you always take,” Fey tells him and follows Moneo to their table.

“You still have a thing for him?” Beta asks as Moneo and Fey sit down.

“I do, but he is as oblivious as Kobo,” Fey says.

“I am sorry, what?” Kobo says with a mouthful of his sandwich.

“Or maybe he is not interested on you,” Moneo says.

“He is oblivious,” Fey repeats. She does not want to hear Moneo’s opinion. “Or he is playing hard to get. Mama likes a little challenge.”

“All that I am saying is that maybe he is not interested on you,” Moneo repeats. “I mean, you do not have much of a competition. Tilray and Phoenix hate him. Zanna doesn’t speak to him much. I do not think that Vil would be interested on him; she is in her own world. Rin and Slier do not pay attention to him. The only one left is Ilya, and they have been spending an awful time together. They played chess and had a one-on-one training.”

“I don’t know Ilya that much, but I doubt it,” Beta says, trying to make Fey feel better. “She is shy and tranquil. She wouldn’t like someone as dangerous as Icarus, would she?”

“It does not matter,” Fey says as she shrugs. “Today I might get the one-on-hand training with him. That is the time where I could make my move.”

“Keep dreaming, baby,” Moneo says. Kobo snorts again and Moneo ends up with another smack from Fey.

***

Agrion is rushing away from the dorm. He told Hakea that he needed to do something and that he won’t join him and Xeon for breakfast. Before Hakea could argue, he was already out of the room.

He had not paid attention to Icarus’s morning routine, but he knows that he always has a green apple. He must enter the lunchroom to grab it and leave. Agrion heads towards the lunchroom just in time to see him walk out with the green apple. He stops in front of him almost breathless.

“Agrion,” Icarus says, acknowledging his presence.

“I… Give me one second,” Agrion answers as he tries to breathe. He then stands up straighter. “Teach me.”

“That is what I am doing with everybody,” Icarus says.

“No,” Agrion says. “I want you to teach me. I want to be like you. I want to be an assassin.”

“You want to be a rogue,” Icarus corrects him. “I do not think that it is a good idea.”

“No,” Agrion says. “Look, I am not good with my rifle. I am only good when it comes to martial arts. You can ask Tilray. She thought that she could take me on the flag war, but she couldn’t.”

“But you have survived many years using a rifle,” Icarus says. “Changing your strategy, breaking yourself and building you again weeks before graduation is not a good idea.”

“I am begging you, Icarus,” Agrion says as he kneels.

Icarus stares at him. “Stand up,” he says, and Agrion stands up quickly. “You did manage to steal a dagger from me, but with your build up anger, it is not going to be possible for you to become a rogue. We need to be quiet and think with a clear head on every situation.

“We are loners also, Agrion. We cannot depend on anyone else. You have depended on Hakea, Xeon, and Drew all of your life. Choosing to be a rogue, or an assassin, whichever you prefer to call us, will be a tough path for you.”

Agrion nods. “I don’t care. I am ready. This is what I want. I am tired of feeling useless.”

Icarus places a hand on his shoulder. “My answer is no,” he says. He starts to walk away. “Prove me wrong about you and I might reconsider.”

Besides that, Agrion smiles. He will prove him wrong. He will become an assassin.