Kingdoms United Academy [DRAFT ONE]

26. A New Beginning for a Wanted Criminal

"Not again," Harris mumbled.

Cinder was barely conscious. The adhesive tape around the IV needle in her arm itched. Cinder couldn't summon the energy to lift her other arm to mess with it.

Her eyes were half-open -- as far open as she could open them -- and her vision was blurry. However, she could still see Linnea sitting by her bedside, Laia and Harris standing beside her, and Criss peeking in through the doorframe. Trying to focus her vision was making her head hurt, so she closed her eyes again.

"House Dragon won." Criss's footsteps came slightly closer. "I know you were probably worrying about that. At least you weren't hurt for nothing."

Cinder opened her cracked mouth to speak, but no words would come out.

"Don't. Just rest." Linnea shifted in her chair.

Cinder would have nodded, but it hurt to move. She could feel tightness around her waist and gauze and dressing wrapped all around her wounds. Her right hand was bandaged around the palm.

Cinder looked over to the school nurse, who was organizing some papers. She had to squint.

"You'll be free to go in a few hours," the nurse sighed. "The liquid magic IV drip is working well, and your burns are healing very fast, even without assistance."

How did she predict that I would ask that? Cinder wondered.

"You're very predictable," Criss explained.

Cinder sighed.

She dozed off again after her friends left the room, only to wake up again once she was allowed to leave.

---

Crispy felt at home in his new room. He'd, after checking in with the head of House Chimera, painted a biohazard symbol on his door using a large stencil.

He felt weak using a stencil, but there was no way he could have painted without making a mess without one. His right hand was barely solid at this point, and his entire right side had gone numb, with the exception of his leg. The infection hadn't reached either of his legs yet.

His room was mostly empty and very neat, just as he liked it. There was one neatly made bed, a desk, and an empty bookcase off to the side of the desk. A dresser sat on the opposite side of the room from the bed. Above the bed was a small window with partially threadbare curtains. It was clear that the room hadn't been updated or cared for in a while.

Crispy emptied his satchel on the bed to organize. His empty canteen, old sketchbook, notebook collection, royal guard's insignia, and a still-sealed letter from his mother fell out. There was also his old, worn pencil that he should have given up on a few years ago after it became little more than a stub, and his long, actually functional pencil that he actually used.

He held both the insignia and the letter in his hands.

Sure, the humans had spared him from near certain death by their own hands, but if he didn't kill them, he could never go home. He would never see his mother again. Worst case scenario, he would die.

He pushed the thought aside. The school had everything. There was food and a warm bed. There was surveillance. The staff may not have noticed Crispy at first, but Pythias was tall and intimidating with a trail of illness ooze wherever he went. It would be hard to miss him.