Book 3 Chapter 5 - God’s Bravest Flower

We've created too much division,
so everyone with a moderate outlook
feels like everyone’s enemy.

But I’m just trying to be reasonable and measured.
Everyone throws the phrase “serial killer” around,
but can any of us really be sure that’s what he is?

Maybe the Cruel Ivy Killer has a good reason for what he is doing!
Maybe he’s wrong, but his so-called victims are, too!

Not everything has to be black and white.
Sometimes by polarizing an issue, you end up the bad guy.

I don’t know. I just think we should approach the subject
from neutral, unbiased ground.
—Nathaniel Bailey

“Alright. Today, we'll be assessing progress in lancer-to-lancer combat,” Mr. Clay announced.

“God damnit,” Aubrey groaned.

“Fuck yeah,” Kiera said with a pump of her fist.

“I need to pee,” Guy announced, raising his hand.

The last was the only remark spoken loudly enough to be heard over the rest of the class, who were all celebrating or lamenting the announcement. This had grown to be a regular exercise over the past few months. More at Mr. Clay’s insistence than Bouvier’s, Violet suspected. While the headmaster probably did hope it would push Violet into Category Yellow, that was only because he was under too much scrutiny to send the class into the mist again. Mr. Clay’s motivations were more well-intentioned, if annoying. 

He wanted his students prepared to fight. Not just hedron, as was the typical focus, but other people. More specifically, he wanted his students to have a chance if they were set upon by the Cruel Ivy Killer. This had never been spoken aloud, of course. Training to fight other people had always been part of the curriculum, so it wasn’t particularly suspicious. But it couldn’t be denied that the lesson plan had involved some sort of war game or tournament more often than not recently. It had been almost entirely about surviving in the mist before, with fighting hedron as a secondary priority. But ever since a student had turned up dead in a fountain, the class had done this sort of training at least once a week. Often more.

“You used the restroom five minutes ago, Mr. Turner,” Clay deadpanned. 

“Yes, sir! And now I need to use it again, I’m afraid,” Guy apologized.

“Why?” Clay asked.

“I, uh, need to pee?” Guy repeated. 

Mr. Clay gave him a long-suffering look, then sighed and waved him off. “You’ll be fine, Mr. Turner. I’m afraid you’re not getting out of today’s training. Take your seat, please,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir!” Guy agreed with a salute, “but if I piss myself, it’s on your head!” He paused after saying that, and a few people snickered at him. “Wait. Alright, poor choice of words. This round goes to you, Mr. Clay. Well played.”

Mr. Clay rubbed his temples as he often did when speaking to Guy, then rolled his eyes and redirected his attention to the rest of the class. “In any case, I understand many of you are fatigued with such exercises. But they are no less necessary. That said, I believe one of the reasons it hasn’t been as effective as it could be is my fault. I haven’t offered a proper incentive for victory in some time. Bragging rights were only ever going to motivate most of you so many times. So, instead, I’d like to offer a prize. Next Friday—which is a practical day, if you are uncertain—the winners will be excused from class. A three-day weekend. That’s what’s on the table.”

The class was finally quiet at that. Days off were rare, and just about everybody wanted one. Class was more than a little exhausting, and half the students would’ve been happy just for an extra day to catch up on homework. The lack of interest in class vanished in a moment, and Masaki’s hand immediately shot toward the ceiling.

“I call Kassie’s team!” he announced. Violet growled internally. A couple of months ago, he would have insisted on her team. But Kassie was advancing toward yellow, and Violet was not. At least, as far as the class understood. Violet was a legend for killing the queen before, but she was a stagnant legend. Things like that could only elevate her status for so long. And since she’d tied her advancement to the mist, she couldn’t keep pace with Kassie. She couldn’t even pretend. It would contradict the lie she’d already told. She was almost as desperate as Bouvier was to get her back in the mist at this point.

“Well, I’m on Violet’s team,” Kiera cut in. “Kassie can heal up all of your bruises when we kick the crap out of you.” The fox was as loyal as ever, and it made Violet smile. 

“Can’t they just be on the same team?” Lisa suggested.

“Then no one will stand a chance on the other team!” Angelo complained. Likely because he was the other healer in class, and he’d be stuck opposing Kassie regardless. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” Mr. Clay interrupted, “but there will be no teams. We are doing one-on-one spars today.”

“Like a round robin tourney?” Lisa asked.

Mr. Clay shook his head. “I’m afraid we lack time for such an event, unless we spread it across multiple days. Which we won’t be doing at this time. Not unless I can arrange a training camp of some sort, but that’s still in the works.” The entire class groaned at that idea, since it was essentially the opposite of an extra day off, but Clay gave them no mind. “No, everyone in class will be matched up against one other student. The closest to their degree, excepting special circumstances. The winner of each match will be granted next Friday off.

The class immediately brightened up at that, save for a few. Everyone knew everyone else’s degree and talents in class, and that meant they knew who their most likely match-up would be. For a few people, that was essentially confirmation that they didn’t stand a chance of winning.

Where those students grumbled at the announcement, however, Violet’s blood ran cold. She was almost certain she was one of the “special circumstances” in question. No one was close to Kassie in degree. Not even slightly. Except, of course, Violet. But that wasn’t public knowledge. What was well-known, on the other hand, was that Violet and Kassie were the two leaders in ability. Technically, several people in class had a higher degree than Violet’s publicly known orange one. But everyone knew Violet punched above her weight class. 

She was almost definitely going to be pitted against Kassie. She was an entire category above the druid, which meant she had the advantage... on paper. But Violent couldn’t be caught using more strength or agility than she displayed with her empathy ring. She had to fight at the level of a competent orange one. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Violet wouldn’t need to fake weakness.

Not in a fight with Kassie.

Not even in a spar. She didn’t understand it. She’d spent a long time examining it, but she couldn’t make her emotional response to the ditz make sense. It was like solving a puzzle, but the pieces were in different dimensions. There was no reason for it. But Violet couldn’t fight Kassie. Her body refused to do it. 

It didn’t matter what degree the other girl was at. It didn’t help that the gap had been closed. Yellow one wasn’t quite as sharp an advantage over orange ten as Violet would’ve liked. But even before that, Violet couldn’t fight the girl. She couldn’t even think about it. Anytime she did, her body froze up. It was like standing on the precipice of a cliff and knowing that a single twitch would kill her. Kassie’s friendly smile felt like a knife to Violet’s throat. 

But only when the thought of fighting came up. 

They could hang out together without issue. Violet didn’t have a problem trying to manipulate the other girl, or toying with Chase or Aubrey while Kassie could hear. She continued going to karaoke and parties with Kassie, and it was never an issue. In all other situations, Violet looked down on the girl. 

Yet the thought of fighting her—or even using a talent on her—left Violet paralyzed. Her heart beat harder, and her breathing became shallow. She was already sweating at the thought. She already didn’t like leading team competitions against Kassie, and every cell in her body told her not to confront Kassie directly.

It was fucking irritating, but it was also primal. It was something she couldn’t deny. At least not yet. And it made her furious.

“We gotta finish quickly so we can see Kassie and Violet fight!” a voice whispered excitedly.

Violet didn’t know who’d said it, but she wished she could strangle them. She hated thinking about this at all. She put a great deal of mental effort into ignoring it. It was a response she couldn’t control, and there was no denying that. Her own body was betraying her. Over a dumb blonde with only two adverbs in her lexicon. It made Violet incredibly angry just to be confronted with whatever mental block was doing this to her. But this was worse than that.

Other people knew she’d be paired with the druid. And they wanted to watch. They probably wanted to gamble on the fucking thing. And Violet, as stubborn and arrogant as she was, was not incapable of facing reality. She didn’t know why it was happening. Whether it was some unique attribute, or talent, or some other reason. She’d eliminated each possibility, but it wouldn’t matter either way. It was a fact that her flesh betrayed her when she was faced with Kassie Lockwood. She might not have been afraid of the druid, but her body was.

If people watched her try to fight Kassie, her reputation would only fall further. She couldn’t deny that, and the thought made her blood boil. But there was no way out of it. She had healed up from all her injuries a few months before. Clarity had seen to that. She couldn’t come down with an illness, because the bitch herself would just try to heal it. 

Violet ran the problem through her head as Mr. Clay continued describing the rules. She bit her lip as he explained how he’d be watching over every match. She eyed Kiera as Clay described the conditions for victory or surrender, and her breath caught as Kiera looked back.

Their eyes met briefly, and the fox tilted her head in curiosity. A moment later, her best friend lifted her hand.

“Yes, Miss Mulberry?” Mr. Clay asked.

“Can I be paired with Kassie?” Kiera asked.

Mr. Clay paused, and a few voices grumbled at the suggestion. They all wanted to see the two stars in class fight. “You’ve been advancing through your category well, but a peak red is going to struggle against a peak orange. Are you certain?” he checked.

Kiera shrugged. “I wanted to test something against her weird mist thing. She and I are actually a pretty close match with our current talents. At least, in some ways. I don’t think I can win, honestly, but I think it might help me finally hit orange,” Kiera explained.

Clay gave her a long look, then glanced toward Kassie. “I’m totally down to spar with Kiera!” Kassie agreed. “I wanna see what trick she’s got in mind. It'll be good for me, too, I bet!”

Clay looked back and forth between the kitsune and the druid, then shrugged. He looked down at his desk and scratched something out before making a few new notes.

“Very well. Miss Mulberry will spar with Miss Lockwood. On that note, Miss Asher. You’ll now be sparring with Mr. Ayers. He’ll be a good match to train your adaptability,” he said.

Violet fucking hated how relieved she felt. She despised how grateful she was that Kiera had helped her. A thousand pounds lifted off her shoulders, and her heart rate immediately fell. And she loathed the fact. She didn’t want to be relieved she wasn't going to fight Kassie; she wanted to kick the dumb bitch’s ass. But she couldn’t, and she knew it. So she was thankful she avoided a fight. It was pathetic. She felt powerless again, as she had for her entire childhood. At that moment, she wasn’t in control, and it hurt.

At least she finally had an opportunity to publicly humiliate Zach. She’d left a few nasty surprises for him over the months since he snapped at Kiera. But they were minor inconveniences. None would be quite so cathartic as just beating the ever-loving shit out of him in front of all his friends. She wondered if she could time her hits well enough to prevent him from surrendering for a few minutes. It would be hard to hide from Mr. Clay, but if she was careful...

It would help her mood a little. 

But not enough. She’d see to Zach for the time being, but she’d need to feel real control, or she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She needed a reminder that she wasn’t powerless.

The Cruel Ivy Killer was going to have another victim by the end of the day. Violet hoped Kassie was pleased with herself.