Rewriting His Past

East Hill

To Dusk's relief, the east field could be easily found on the school's east side. Considering that everyone was in classes and eating lunch in the cafeteria. Causing the elf to stand out quite a bit. Mr. Summerset took a position on the slight incline in the neatly trimmed grass. A light breeze caught the robes of Mr. Summerset and kept the air cool. He resembled a teacher when he was not speaking. Word rumbled on Dusk's shoulder as he approached him slowly. Mr. Summerset was facing the sun with his face tipped back and his eyes closed.

Dusk was standing a good few feet away from him and had little faith in his brand-new instructor. Dusk stood in the intimidating school's silhouette as he turned to face Mr. Summerset. It was a towering representation of the Dusk future, both in height and width. It is intimidating to sum it up in one word. Word pressed against his neck, keeping him from going too deep in thought. He considered how to begin while looking at Mr. Summerset, who must have seen him but chose to ignore him. He should discuss how he handled Pyrite, right?

Dusk studied Mr. Summerset's profile while frowning. His flawless dark skin stood out, and his ears were prominent—a true sign of an elf. At their delicate points, their length stood out. His hair appeared to be loosely curled and soft. He was a handsome man, as were most elf people, and he was swaying in the wind. He took a moment to gather his courage before speaking, eventually closing his own eyes.

"Mr. Summerset." Dusk spoke up, stepping up with worry that he was doing the right thing. His heart was filled with uncertainty. Micah had not yet been returned with Pyrite. He could come up with a dozen explanations for why they had not shown up. Dusk had no practical means of learning the truth. The bond that Pyrite was so much more aware of, he was unable to follow. He needed to wait and have faith. Given this teacher of his, Dusk was doing what he could, which was consoling. "Mr. Summerset!" even if doing so got him into trouble. Dusk grew more vocal, obtaining an open eye in exchange.

"Are you ready for your first lesson?" His voice sounded far away and far more serious than the fool he had met earlier.

"Yes," Dusk said, his desire to confront momentarily halted. He needed to react more quickly. He could not allow things to derail him so quickly. Dusk severely reprimanded himself before using that breath to defend Pyrite. "I would like to address how you treated Pyrite this morning." Dusk words were met with silence, which he used to wrap up his ideas. "I may not approve of Pyrite getting physical with you. You crossed some lines, knowing the history between elves and wolves."

"Do you understand how elves acquire their magical abilities and senses?" His skin began to feel prickly as a result of the glow in his eyes. That gave him the impression that needles themselves had fallen on him.

"We should talk about this, Mr. Summerset; it will not go away in the future." Dusk was being direct, assertive, and courteous.

"They drop them in, just like when swimming." He received a bizarre smile from Mr. Summerset. That, if you could call what happened that, he had witnessed during his earlier conflict with Pyrite. "Can you swim?"

"No," Dusk said with a sigh. He was not listening. Was this a result of his lack of leadership, command, or general respect? All he knew was that he was refusing to swallow the bitter pill of frustration. He preferred letting it linger on his tongue. He ought to spit his bad manners right back at him. It was a thought that was so out of the ordinary but felt so right that Dusk swallowed it. He was not sure what to make of it.

"Oh, well, this ought to be something new for you." Mr. Summerset unleashed a dark wave that swept Dusk away. That wave swept away everything from him. His ability to move, breathe, and even see. All he could do was react out of instinct because his mind was blank. Dusk's body resisted the wave that Mr. Summerset had thrown at him. His arms gave out as a fish would on a beach that had dried up. He had the impression that he was up against a massive force, comparable to the water that fish were pulled out of.

Dusk was forced to take a breath as his body began to burn. He was holding it, and Dusk had not even noticed, but he was lost in the shadows. Dusk was not sure if he could breathe or not. Was it? His skin tingled, and he felt as though his lungs were burning. What was happening to him? He persisted in his struggle as he labored alone in the dark. He was accustomed to it. Which only made him tremble more. Word. Could Word help him? He would never think of endangering his familiar, but if he did not take action soon, he would undoubtedly perish.

"Word!" In the pitch-black, Dusk yelled, his words bubbling. It entered his mouth when he opened it. A slimness of the dark entered his mouth. When he resisted swallowing, it coated his throat. He started to choke. Curling into a ball, white spots danced in front of his eyes. Coughing only caused him to take in more than he coughed out.

"Scree!" Around him, a high-pitched scream broke out. When his coughing finally stopped, the black that had been attempting to kill him left his lips. With his spit and that darkness, Dusk coughed until his lungs felt like they were about to come up. Dusk's eyes watered. Word was flying in front of him as he continued to look up. Creating some sort of barrier that stopped the darkness from devouring him.

"Word!" Having just gone through a struggle, Dusk's voice wheezed with the need for air. Word was hard at work flapping his wings, but they were beginning to fail him. He observed as he began to sink into the night. He would not let him fall, not at all! Dusk had the fortitude to stand despite not knowing where it came from. Then run. He encircled the Word that was falling with his body and arms. Prior to the dark apron them once more, he shielded him as best he could.

"If this is my magic!" Dusk shouted, thinking about that dark, stupid elf. Even though his words were being disregarded, he heard them. He wanted him to become familiar with his magic. The darkness was on the edge of them, inches from Dusk. Word's barrier was slowly breaking. Mr. Summerset mentioned dropping them into the water's deep end. To learn how to swim and how to tap into his magic. "Then be of use to me! I want out of here!"

They were granted a reprieve when the darkness itself appeared to breathe. Had it responded to him? Dusk looked around, like he could see anything outside Word and his barrier. Why was it so gloomy and dark if this was his magic? Dusk wasn't sure what to do. Was this even his magic? Or was he being used as some sort of experiment by the elf?

"Word, is this my magic?" Dusk asked, his voice wavering. He had been using his magic for storage ever since he first tapped into it. This was ominous and gloomy. Not what he had anticipated. Doom peered down at Word. His tiny green owl had black, reflective eyes that had a sharp, assured look. Word had come from his connection to magic. He would know more than he does. A sad but real truth. Word gave him a nod, and he felt Word channel some of his energy toward him. It seemed more like he gave him a little of his cool assurance.

"Why is it so dark?" Despite the gaps in Word's defense, Dusk breathed in a rattling breath and felt more at ease. It was sturdy enough for Dusk to contemplate. Why does this resemble her so much? Was it the fact that he resembled her? Was the power he possessed a reflection of him or of her? Word's barrier cracked again. "Word, are you okay?" Despite Word giving him an emotional lift, Dusk looked down, his heart heavy with dread. "Ow!" Word snapped at his fingers. Dusk surprisedly put his hand to his mouth after noticing the blood dripping from his fingers.

"What's wrong?" Word asked Dusk, who hissed at him and lowered his head. "Are you mad at me?" Dusk worries pushed back against the shock of Word being mad at him. Bringing his finger to his mouth, he sucked the dripping blood off his fingers. Flapping his wings, he hissed at him again. "Is it something I said?" The large crack that split into teeny white webbing cracks caught Dusk's attention. How much time would it last? Why did he always falter at times like these? Word raced at him and snapped at him again.

"Word!" Dusk shouted, falling back onto his pants. Word hissed at him while he dug his talons into his boots. The sharp edge of his talons pierced him just a little bit, despite the leather's presence. "I didn't say anything," Dusk said, but he did think it. That is it, then? "Is it my thoughts?" Word put an end to his hissing and sat up, glaring at him. "Are my thoughts interfering with my magic?" Dusk questioned Word. Who ruffled his feathers and glared down at him, as if saying emphatically, 'You do not say?'

"How do I uncloud it?" Years of negative thoughts could not be broken in a few minutes by Dusk, but... Dusk looked down at Word. Those expecting eyes had him wanting to try. "I'll try." Dusk stood up and scooped up Word into his arms while he went to the edge of the rough-looking barrier. "I'll walk in and take it." Dusk looked down and looked down at an owl with a tilted head. "You'll be with me, right?" Word slowly blinks each of his eyes. Not that he deserved anything less in response.

"I hope Micah and Pyrite are doing better." After taking a breath, Dusk moved just a small distance outside the fence before being once again engulfed in the shadows. It waved over him once more with a thick, unpleasant feeling. That summed up his inner thoughts ninety percent of the time. They simmered beneath the surface of his regular thoughts, even if they never did anything more. In the shadows, he trembled and shook. Word nestling into his chest. Despite feeling like he might drown again, it helped him keep breathing.

Dusk closed his eyes while feeling his heart pound erratically in his chest. I'm not a bad person. Even with his eyes closed, Dusk made an effort to remain optimistic and see through this. To find his magic, the true shade of his magic. This is not who I am. More than the shadows, his suffering, or the Duchess's deeds. Like he always had, he endured his pain. It was challenging for him to overcome his past despite knowing that he was better than it.

His thoughts were battling a cloud of emotions, and his head was heavy. He did not want to let Word down, but his legs were starting to become numb. Word was cooing. Every step he took felt heavier and heavier. Dusk did not realize he was no longer moving forward until he was on his knees. Was he failing once more?

"Sorry, Word." Dusk said, while he believed in Word, that this was his magic. He also felt overpowered by it. He had always thought of magic as a tool, like a sword, that he could use. "I couldn't wield a sword either." Dusk wavered, and the darkness swarmed him again. Why couldn't he be stronger? "Sorry, Word, if only you had a normal, familiar bond." His voice wavered, and he thought his whole body felt numb. Tears once again fell on his face. Didn't he cry the other day? Wasn't that enough?

Dusk awoke from his daydream in response to a strange cry. Word slipped from his grasp. He blasted the darkness away around him, blinding him with a brilliant light. He was stunned both physically and emotionally. "Word?" Dusk reached out and touched the light; it was soft and all so familiar. Word, or what he thought was Word, slipped under his fingers with the fur. He swung around and curled up around him like a soft snake. "Word?" With his voice strained, Dusk questioned him. The stress and his emotions were trembling his body.

"Dusk." A tiny, childlike voice snuck up on him. A dragon face emerged, which was far too adorable to be a dragon and had large blue eyes. That face was incredibly soft to the touch when Dusk raised his hand and touched it. Like in his owl form, he rubbed his hand with a purring sound. "Elf hurt Dusk." A pale, sliver tongue flicked out and caught the tears that were still falling as his face drew near. Word's abrupt change was slowing it down. "I hurt Elf." The environment was shattering around them. Observing the clear blue sky in the distance and the shocked, wide-eyed gold eyes, Mr. Summerset Although he was free, why did panic still grip him?

"Bad!" Word cried out, charging at Mr. Summerset. He first saw Word's true form when he uncoiled his length from around Dusk. He was tall, measuring at least three horses in length and sixteen hands. The largest animal he could think of that he had at least a basic understanding of was a horse, which he detested comparing to Word. His body was covered in fur that was an obscenely bright white. Little legs protruded from the fluff, each of whose three toes had claws pointed in Mr. Summerset's direction.

"Fascinating!" Wider and brighter than his eyes, Mr. Summerset's voice began to glisten. Without saying a word, he raised his hand. As a result of some magic, Word came to an abrupt halt. He wiggled in the air, but he wasn't going forward. Word's mouth also appeared to be closed, and he could see his lips curling and his fangs showing signs of rage. "This is your true form!" Mr. Summerset moved forward and ran his hand on Word's face. Dusk felt the range, and disgust rushed through him.

"Take your hands off my familiar," Dusk said. He had previously used magic, but he was restricted in his ability to access it. He regularly used magic with his storage, but that also came to him in a dream. Dusk did not know how to reach out for it and take it in like air. Dusk acted on a psychological level. He rushed at Mr. Summerset and pushed him away from Word. To Dusk's surprise, he was simple to topple and not only succeeded in knocking Mr. Summerset off his feet. He also got him to let go of Word.

"Ngh." Word let out a small cry, and he ran, or more like floated. At a great speed to coil himself around Word.

"Word, are you okay?" The last of his tears were wiped from Dusk's face as he blinked. Only to do the same to his familiar.

"That is what I would like to know." An ominous aura to their left spoke. A very irate Mrs. Quartz was seen tapping her foot as Dusk peered as best he could around Word. Similar to an angry rabbit but lacking the cuteness of seeing one. "Why are you two in such a state?"

"Bad elf," Word whimpered, coiling himself into a tighter ball around Dusk. "Hurt Dusk."

"Mr. Summerset, you better have reason. Why has this legendary beast had to take his natural form?" She had her ears flat against her skull. Dusk trembled at the energy that was whirling around her. Stroking Word to comfort himself. "A student in tears?" A wave of hot shame swept through Dusk's chest. "What happened here, Mr. Wooddancer?" Her eyes flashed red as she turned to face him, sending his heart racing, and Word encircled him until he was unable to see anything.

"I mean your bond no harm, O' familiar." The tone of Mrs. Quartz's voice softened and became gentle. "I need to know what happened here, okay?"

"Mr. Summerset!" When Mrs. Quartz's voice changed, she rounded on his alleged teacher. He had lost interest due to his inability to see. Even if he could see. He was no longer able to muster the desire to care. His chest hurt more than anything else, worse than anything he had ever felt before. It appeared as though someone else had grabbed hold of his heart and was firmly holding it in place.

"Ngh," Dusk moaned, and sank down to the ground. Word spun around him. Up until their faces were so close, Dusk was concerned for Word's vision. A pale, tear-streaked face stared back at him, one of his large eyes flecked. It was shameful. He was unconcerned by that, though. Another thing devoured him. When Dusk took a moment to reflect, he realized that the cold dread he felt had nothing to do with him. It had that impression.

"Heart hurts?" Word's voice was more childlike than he thought it would be. That innocent simplicity gave Dusk's ideas the impetus they required. The pain he was experiencing was not just his own.

"Mage Bloods find it difficult to feel the bond." Although difficult, Dusk mumbled to himself that it was still possible. Reaching his magic was challenging, but not because of his past. It was a pain that everyone felt but only someone close to them or... "Pyrite and Micah." Dusk stood up so quickly that he felt dizzy. "We must leave, Word!" He spoke to Word while ignoring the teachers. Word nodded their head. Their face were twisted up in a serious expression that did not suit him. It had to be them. Dusk felt that certainty more than he had felt anything before in his life.

"Mr. Wooddancer, where are you going?" Mrs. Quartz asked when Word unraveled from him. Under their feet, the ground trembled. Knocking Mrs. Quartz straight into Mr. Summerset's arms. Word kept Dusk standing. He ignored the trembling and noticed that the school was on fire, with pieces falling to the ground. His entire world turned gray with a new fear as screams reached his ears. In the furthest recesses of his heart, he was aware. Pyrite and Micah were in that location.