Grave (Work in Progress)

Chapter 1.1-Leilia-Visions

Part 1-Intentions

“If there is evil in this world, it lurks in the hearts of man.”

-Edward D. Morrison, Tales of Phantasia

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It’s not there if I don’t see it. It’s not there if I don’t see it.

I’d been repeating that mantra to myself way too much lately. I had always had a knack for seeing things no one else could, but these past few months, the creepiness meter had been cranked up to eleven. Everywhere I turned there was a shadow moving unnaturally, or a person with an aura of darkness surrounding them like their own personal rain cloud. Sometimes, a skeletal face appeared in it, and it smiled at me. Not the “Oh, I’m so happy to see you” smile, but the “I will eat you for dinner” smile. Just today, I had experienced about twelve of these occurrences. Working at Celeste University, filing paperwork in this musty hole-in-the-wall storage room, should have been the safest gig in the whole country of Lutetia. Normally, I even liked the solitude that came with my job (hell, that was pretty much the only thing I liked about my job), but with all these things creeping around, it was like I was trapped in prison.

I think the gods are trying to tell you something, Leilia, I thought as I sat at my rotting oak desk with my knees to my chin. They’re telling you to get the hell out of here.

I needed a break. I started formulating all sorts of excuses when Mrs. Jennings, the Dean’s assistant, waltzed in without knocking, tottering along in red heels and a pencil skirt, which didn’t suit her stick-like figure at all. Her tight bun, her blouse buttoned up to her chin, and her horn-rimmed glasses made her look about three times her age.

“Ms. Hollins,” she addressed me. Her voice never failed to remind me of a chicken. “Why in Aion’s name are you sitting like that? Were you frightened by something? Goodness, you’re 20, aren’t you? Act your age! And haven’t I warned you about your wardrobe choices? Honestly, if Dean Earlhart sees you like that…”

I’m 22, lady. And maybe I would act my age if you treated me my age. I forced myself to laugh and ignored her comments on her favorite subject, my sense of style. I liked my low-cut shirts, and it wasn’t like I made enough money to get anything new.  Instead of lashing back, I swallowed my pride and sacrificed another shred of my dignity.

“Oh, Mrs. J., you are such a kidder! Wherever did you get such a sense of humor?” She pressed her thin lips together, a signal that I was annoying her. Perfect. Unfolding myself from my position on the chair, I put on my sickly-sweet persuasion tone and asked, “Listen, can you do me a huge favor? I have an appointment to get to and if you could let me out early and pass the message to the Dean—“

“You’ll have to cancel that, Ms. Hollins. Dean Earlhart has a special assignment for you today.” She lit up like she was giving me the key to the city and crowning me king of the free world. “It’s very important. If you do well, he might promote you to head filer!”

Woohoo. Head filer. Wow, was I moving up in the world. The way Jennings spoke to me was enough to make me sick. She treated me like my primary school teacher had back in the day. “Now, Leilia. If you behave yourself today, you’ll earn a gold star.” What I wouldn’t give to get out of this place.

Nonetheless, I kept my griping to myself. As much as I hated my job, I needed it. Girl's got to make a living somehow. “Ok, what does he want me to do?”

“There’s a special student we need you to look after.” She flicked her wrist and conjured a file out of thin air. Though it was a simple trick for a mage, non-magic folk like me were still jealous that we couldn't make use of the energy floating in the air that produced a spell. Some of us would kill to have the ability. You could get so much further in life with it.