11 Loop 0, Part 11
by inkadminTUESDAY
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I fell off the bench. It wasn’t on purpose, of course. My body and I had been in a fight with gravity for hours, and gravity had finally won, as it always did. I flopped onto the grass and lay there, looking up at a sky that was just starting to remember it was supposed to be blue.
The Green was empty. Of course I was the only one out here. It was five in the morning, and not even Sara was that neurotic. As far as my eyes could see, my only company was the ancient Therumian Oak standing in the pre-dawn gray. My face was squished up against wet grass that smelled like dirt and rain. At least that was nice. And at least nothing had hit me in the ribs to cause me to fall off.
I tried standing, which was my first mistake. My legs had run more miles last night than they had in the past year combined, and they had opinions about it. Strong opinions. My calves seized into knots. As soon as they loosened, I just lay there. The grass was wet. I was wet. My robes had been damp for hours, and now they were actively soaked through. This was fine. Everything was fine.
It wasn’t like my uncle had killed a man. He definitely hadn’t cut his head off with a spell so clean I’d thought he’d been using a blade. It was just a nightmare, right?
But the image was burned into my head.
His body had stayed standing just for a second, one hand raised mid-gesture, still pointing. It was almost comical, the sight of the head rolling across the floor away from him. I forced my eyes to the grass beneath me, but [Wideview] didn’t care. It showed me everything anyway.
Stop thinking about it. Stop. Get it out of my head. Think about something else. The cold, my leg pain, something.
I pulled up my stats just to have something to distract me. Somehow, my mana had regen’d the full 320, which meant I’d actually slept. My body must have given up the fight at some point between midnight and now, because I definitely didn’t remember deciding to close my eyes. Full mana, wrecked legs. The universe had a sense of humor, and it wasn’t at all funny.
A notification was waiting for me. Two of them, actually.
[LEVEL UP] Enchantment: Level 50.
[LEVEL UP] Alteration: Level 50.
Huh. I stared at that for a second. Both at once. Must have been the tournament pushing me over. I’d been sitting at 49 in both for weeks, close enough that a handful of casts would do it— yesterday had been a lot of casts—more than usual. Damn, maybe I was losing my touch.
The system batched XP during sleep or meditation. Most people complained about it, but I personally loved it. Leveling while I sleep? Fuck yeah. I dismissed the notifications and went back to lying in the wet grass. Level 50 in two schools. Great. Wonderful. I’d celebrate later, preferably on my bed.
Despite my legs being in the worst shape of their life, I had full mana, at least. I could probably just magic something to walk. Would that even work? I filed the thought away so I could continue my pity party. I reached for my wand and figured I might as well get my morning spells out of the way. It was still in my pocket, which was a minor miracle given my acrobatic exit from the bench. The familiar blue crystal pulsed when I touched it, and I pointed it at nothing in particular.
“[Wideview].”
The world expanded. My forward vision locked in place, and everything else bloomed outward in a continuing field. I could see in perfect detail the bench I’d fallen off, the path behind me, the dormitory entrance I hadn’t made it to last night, the kitchen entrance, even the Spire lit blue against the lightening sky.
Corwen. The body. The head rolling away. I closed my eyes. [Wideview] finally went dark.
“[Subtitle],” I said, much more subdued. The little black box settled at the edge of my vision, ready to translate whatever I heard into words. Not that there was anybody nearby talking. The Green was still silent. I was alone with 222 mana and the memory of that body that wouldn’t stop playing in my mind.
Except I wasn’t alone. That little black box in the corner of my eye picked up words. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” the voice said. I couldn’t tell who it was. I couldn’t even see where it was coming from, but then [Wideview] caught movement. Across the Green, near the training grounds, a figure was moving through the grey light in a short jog, repeatedly looking over his shoulder as if somebody was watching him. Which I guess someone was.
It was Kalin Tuffet. He was heading in the direction of the old tower or the auxiliary training yard behind it, but neither one was a place students went this early. He was carrying something under his arm—a book, maybe, or a scroll. The distance made it hard to tell, even with [Wideview], but there was definitely something wrong. His shoulders were hunched. He was running. I watched him cross the Green and disappear past the tree line.
I hated this school.
What was he doing out at this hour? It wasn’t like he was a jogger. But whatever his reasons, I didn’t care. I didn’t have the energy to chase him.
Without even thinking about it, I scanned for every spot Vex had stood yesterday. The tree. The kitchen entrance. The faculty stairwell. Empty, empty, empty. Never again. Which got me thinking about Vex again. It was a vicious cycle.
The sky brightened by another few shades. Somewhere in the distance, something with feathers decided it was morning, and a dozen others followed suit with their song. The first few morning runners were already jogging on the path. In about another hour, students would start crossing the Green on their way to breakfast. I was probably still going to be lying here in the grass when they did. I closed my eyes and tried for sleep.
“Laz.” The voice came from the direction of my dormitory. I didn’t even need to turn my head. It was Finn.
“Laz, what the fuck? Why are you lying in the grass? If I had a nickel for every time you’ve done this, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it’s happened twice.”
Finn Merick stood on the path, holding two sandwiches, both wrapped in kitchen cloth. Properly dressed, his hair combed, looking every part the person who had obviously slept in a bed. He definitely woke up at a reasonable hour, and had already done all of the things a normal human being does in the morning. Behind him, the dining hall was starting to come alive, with other early risers walking in through the doors.
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He stared at me. I stared at the sky.
“Please tell me you didn’t sleep out here,”
“I didn’t sleep out here,” I said.
“You’re lying,”
“You told me to tell you I didn’t.”
He sighed, dropped his head, and walked off the path to me. He crouched next to me. His instincts kicked in, and I could see the diagnostic spell as it formed.
“Dude, your robes are soaked. Your face has benchmarks on it. There’s grass in your hair.” He paused. “Last time, you got knocked off by a Magiball. What was it this time?”
“Gravity. It’s been acting up lately, Finn. Very aggressive. I’m thinking of filing a complaint with my uncle.”
He didn’t laugh. I frowned. Finn always laughed at my jokes, even the ones that weren’t funny.
“Your bed wasn’t slept in,” he said. “I checked.”
I frowned again. “You checked my bed?”
“When you don’t come home? Yeah.” Finn stared at me like I was stupid. “Where were you last night?”
The Archives, Level 4. Watching my uncle cut a man’s head off. The usual Monday evening activities. But I didn’t say that.
“Couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk. Got tired, found a bench. The bench is my best friend now, Finn. You’re going to have to find a new one,” I said.
Finn handed me a sandwich. Egg and cheese, still warm from the kitchen. I took it and ate without complaint. Finn was worried. I could tell because he was doing that thing where he pretended not to be worried, which was somehow worse.
“You need to get up and go change. Alteration’s in an hour,” he said.




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