World Eater

20

ABADDON STARED INTO SPACE.

He was actually at a loss. He had suddenly awoken in the middle of the hallway, dragged by two other boys. Raw, bloody scratches lined his arms, and Abaddon realized something terrible must have happened.

Sitting in the office, Abaddon was numb, disconnected from the pain in his head and arms. The school’s police officer hovered over him, explaining the handcuffs around his wrists. They wouldn't have cuffed him unless he threatened harm- to himself or others.

Hugging his chest, Abaddon observed Alzar had lost weight, his already lean stomach turning concave. Abaddon had hoped Alzar would have at least attempted to take care of himself.

At his other side, Fancy stood, hands behind her back. Unaffected by whatever had just transpired, her face was neutral, a serene smile on her lips. Just being near her put Abaddon on edge.

“He was shouting something about monsters, and then he just went limp and quiet. He’s been sitting there all calm for the past hour.”

Abaddon lifted his head at the voice, spotting Sariel and a teacher walking into the office.

“Al!” Sariel shouted, breaking away from the throng of teachers and throwing his arms around Abaddon, “Are you okay? What happened?”

Abaddon squirmed out of Sariel’s embrace, keeping him at arm's length. “I am not sure, but Alzar is not well.”

Horror washed over Sariel’s face, aging him several years. “Ah…” he whispered, weary of the eyes on his back, “So it's Abaddon, huh?”

“That is correct.”

“Come on,” Sariel said, touching his shoulder, “Let's go home. You must be tired.”

“Excuse me, sir,” the officer stated, holding up his hand, “With your consent, we would like to take Alzar to the hospital for observation. I think it would be safest for your child to be in an environment where he is unable to harm himself.”

Sariel gritted his teeth, dark circles visible under his eyes. “I'm taking him home. He needs to be home.”

“I feel that would be best as well,” Fancy murmured, laying a hand on Abaddon’s head, “Alzar would feel most comfortable in his own home.” She smiled at Abaddon, as if they were sharing an inside joke.

Sariel blinked, staring at Fancy. His expression was conflicted, caught between confusion and disdain. “You...You must be Alzar’s counselor.”

Fancy took a step forward, her placid air turning almost threatening. “It's nice to meet you, Sariel Lorne.”