Bright Flame, Deep Shadow (lesbian story)

Flick

Being in the Shadows is like being engulfed in a writhing curtain. You can't fight your way through, or you'll get tangled and lost forever. You just have to relax and become part Shadow yourself.

Three seconds, I remind myself. I sprint forward until I'm on Hestia's left—I can tell she's expecting me to come from the right, and I will not attack her from behind. Above me, something screeches like the bastard child of a sick crow and a cat in heat. Don't look up.

My time is up. I grab a fistful of Shadow and slice, diving back into the world and rolling on my shoulder. I land a blow on Hestia's thigh as I go down, and then three more in the time it takes for her to realise what's happening and leap away. Behind us, the rest of the class counts every hit. I hope I'm not being too rough with her.

Then, when I'm about to slip back into the Shadows to attack from the front, Hestia vanishes.

"Took her long enough to find that strand," someone snorts.

"Yeah, I could see it from here," another girl scoffs. I hope Ardyan is stood at the other end of the line, for their sakes.

"Be silent," Tanvik growls.

I shift into a defensive position. Will Hestia come at me from the front, or from the side? I turn in a slow circle. I don't think she'd attack from behind, but you can't afford to second-guess people in a fight. Maybe she'd attack from below like I did—or maybe that wouldn't even cross her mind.

Three seconds pass. Then five.

"Ashgate!" Tanvik yells. "You are over the three-second limit. This match has been forfeited. Get out of the shadows, now!"

Six seconds.

Seven.

"Should I go in and get her, sir?" someone pipes up.

"No," Tanvik snaps. His brow is creased with worry. If Hestia gave in to the temptation to look up...a chill rattles my spine. She wouldn't do that. We're taught from the cradle that when you're in the Shadows, you must never, ever look up. It will be the last thing you do. They hate to be seen.

The curtain rips behind me, and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

Hestia slumps to the floor, gasping and shaking and deathly white. Ardyan runs to her side, deaf to Tanvik ordering him to get back in line. I follow suit, kneeling down next to them. With both of us there, maybe Tanvik will leave Hestia alone.

"What happened?" Ardyan asks, rubbing Hestia's back in soothing circles. My stomach lurches. He used to do that to me.

I brush the feeling aside, and lay my hand on her arm in what I hope is a reassuring gesture, considering I've just given her a fair few bruises. "You didn't look up, did you?"

"I...I..." I have to lean in to hear her weak voice. "I couldn't find a strand. There was nothing there."

"Again," adds Tanvik, and I jump. I hadn't heard him materialise behind us.

"I thought I'd be trapped there." Her breathing's slower now, and she leans in to Ardyan's shoulder. He kisses the top of her head, and I have to look away. This is wrong. I have absolutely no right to feel this way, not anymore.

"Rybur, take her to the medical wing," Tanvik orders. "Saethryth!" he barks across the room. "You're sparring next!"

"I'm fine, sir," Hestia protests. She doesn't sound fine.

"You're disrupting my class. Go."

Hestia stands reluctantly, and Ardyan glares at Tanvik as he leads her to the stairwell. Tanvik's just done a good job of cementing Ardyan's hatred of him.

"Get back in line, Domneva," Tanvik mutters. He's lost interest in me now that the fight is over, and he has his sights set on his favourite target.

Arabella.

"Does anybody wish to volunteer to fight Miss Saethryth?" he asks. Nobody moves, and I don't blame them. Even I would hate to have to fight Bella, girlfriend or not.

"Tarani!" Tanvik decides eventually, after a full minute of silence. "You're fighting Saethryth."

The boy, Esdin Tarani, tries to protest, but Tanvik silences him with a look. My heart leaps into my throat. Esdin is like Hestia—his magic is weak, but unlike Hestia, he follows school rules to the letter. We have our suspicions that last spring, when someone stole and read Bella's diary, it was actually him who reported her. Bella's going to beat him to a pulp, now that she thinks she has the chance.

 And that's exactly what Tanvik wants.

"Take your stances!"

Both of them mirror each other exactly. Esdin's seen Bella fight before, and he knows she'll fight dirty. Filthy, even, if she thinks she can win.

"Fight!"

To my surprise, it's Esdin who vanishes first. Bella doesn't even try.

"What are you doing?" I hiss, my fists clenched so hard I'll have nail marks for hours.

Esdin barrels out of the Shadows behind Bella, moving with about as much grace as a drunk carthorse. Bella easily slips away from him, grabbing him by the collar and tossing him to the floor.

Oh no.

Bella kneels over Esdin and as the blows rain down on him, the whole class is silent. No cheers, no jeers, only Esdin's grunts and groans of pain. Finally, he gets his arm up and strikes Bella across the face. Blood spatters the stone floor.

"Time!"

The fight grinds to a halt. Bella struggles to her feet, wiping her nose on her sleeve and smearing blood everywhere. With her tufty hair and sallow skin, she looks half wild. I want to run to her, clean the blood up myself, but one glare from her stops me. She's right. We can't risk Tanvik figuring out what's going on right under his nose.

Tanvik glares down at Esdin, who is currently curled into the foetal position and whimpering. Baby. Bella wasn't hitting him that hard, and anyway, the Healers will undo any damage in an instant.

"Can you stand?" he demands.

Esdin only groans in response.

"Saethryth, run three laps of this room. I do not tolerate physical abuse of other students during my lessons."

"But sir, she—" my words die on my lips as Bella shakes her head at me again.

I slump against the wall as she starts her punishment. This isn't fair. Tanvik can't tell us to physically abuse each other and then punish us—or more specifically Bella, because nobody else would have got in trouble for dominating a fight like that—for physically abusing each other.

But Arabella's blood on the floor proves that he can, he will, and he does.