Phantom Hunters | Saphir Casters Academy

41 | Shattered Illusions

XLI | SHATTERED ILLUSIONS

A few hours earlier

    "Listen here, bluebird," a heavy-set third year growled with menace and anger in his eyes. "We don't appreciate your kind coming here, invading our lands. You should just go back to where you came from."

    Ah. So he was one of those. A Bijouan who was so narrow-minded that he thought only people from his country belonged in Saphir. That kind of group had diminished a long time ago as more and more people became accepting and open to the outside world — accepting that people not of their nation were as good, if not better, than they were at casting. Still, vestigial remains from that period of time such as the seven boys in front of him refused to kill their xenophobia. It seemed that this particular boy had a vendetta against Oracheans.

    "Are you listening to me?" he stalked forward, trying to buff up his build to appear as intimidating as possible. "You bluebirds only came here to steal jobs that should be given to us." He cracked his knuckles. "And I'm going to make you pay for thinking you even have a chance."

    Garun stood from his position against the tree, his scarf covering his jaw. He had no time for ignorant imbeciles such as these. They probably thought they could take him on because he was a first-year. Cowards. They all were.

    "Where do you think you're going?" the boy pushed his brown hair from his hateful blue eyes. "Are you scared? Planning to fly away like the pathetic bird you are?"

    His six friends stepped around Garun, preventing any escape. Not that he'd need any. His time in Orachea had more than prepared him to fight against groups of full-grown men. A bunch of burly third years who only had the size of their body to show their dominance was nothing compared to the true horrors humans could inflict on one another. They were just as pathetic, thinking they could mount to anything more than bullies, thinking they were strong enough to break something that never existed.

    "What should we do with him, boss?" the tallest of the group asked, unable to contain the rush to beat someone up from his expression.

    "We'll beat him up and make an example of him," the leader answered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. No. It was an imitation of a cruel smile. Garun had seen true cruelty, and what these boys thought they had was just another illusion. Their power was an illusion, which Garun was more than happy to shatter.

    Without a word, Garun grasped his ever present flagpole strapped to his back. He didn't get into a defensive stance, instead holding it like he would a scroll. The tightly wrapped material of the flag felt familiar in his hand. Reassuring. The one thing that seemed tangible in this world.

    "Oh, look. He thinks he can fight us," an incredibly young voice mocked. Probably a younger brother sucking up to what he thought was popularity and power in the academy. Another idiotic assumption that Garun was willing to prove wrong. There was no such thing as acceptance. Only a compromise or insincere agreement to avoid breaking relationships over clashing opinions. Garun had seen it all. How people pretended to agree, only to stab each other in the back over measly differences. Secretly hating, secretly jealous, bringing more pain into the world than there already was.

    The youngest of the bulk sauntered to a safe spot, ordered by the older brother he gave full respect. Respect that he probably didn't deserve.

    The leader sneered, pulling out a sword. "So you won't go down without a fight? I like that. It'll make beating you up that much more satisfying. Always like them with more fire, isn't that right boys?"