Grendilton: Rise of the Shadows

5 | Dance With Arrogance.

However, no such actions came from the professor. All he did was sigh and placed a reassuring hand upon her shoulder.

With a look of contentment and understanding, he then lowered himself down to her height and said, "I can feel some type of pain resonating from you. As the moon mage, it can't be easy to live up to everyone's expectations."

Professors and tutors weren't exactly Macey's cup of tea. Since they were in power and held authorities over her, it was sometimes a struggle to draw the line between them simply teaching her and them taking advantage over her. But Breslin was different. His storm like gaze didn't stifle away. She pressed her lips together hard, suppressing an exaggerated sigh from leaving her lips. Her black curly hair dangled down her face, prompting her to brush it away shyly. As she did so, Macey got an idea that perhaps she's not the only one who is feeling pain. She watched on as water sages struggled to manipulate fire and even ice mages, who find it downright impossible to create heat, giving it a good attempt.

"I believe in you," Breslin told Macey, stepping away and retreating towards a group of students who were using small flames to light up tiny firecrackers.

Macey stood stoically. I've done it before, she told herself, raising the palm of her hand up to her chest. It's not that difficult.

She inhaled deeply then exhaled slowly, feeling a small fragment of reassurance brush against her heart. A smile appeared across her face and she was excited to show people her slightly augmented fire style.

"I can do this."

A hex appeared on her hand. It was in the shape of a flame but the hue of this was rather off. Light spluttered onto the floorboards. The energy she was letting off began to softly crack at the timber. She felt the heat of her flame beginning to heighten, feeling extremely proud that she was able to shut off the voices in her head that usually haunt her when she tried to create fire.

"Over my dead body..."

A sneer echoed in Macey's ear and she couldn't help but become instantly peeved by the man who didn't like her trying to achieve.

"Don't hurt yourself," Connor said with a twisted grin. "Wasn't it you that said difficult magic hurts?"

The fire he held in his hand then glided along his knuckles, sizzling at small chunks of his skin. There was a small flinch on his face, but that didn't last long. Macey couldn't help but survey his arms, noticing there was a multitude of scars, all different shapes and sizes.

Majority of them were from his flames.

A few weren't.

"I don't understand," taunted Connor. "You're acting like royalty, refusing to even attempt to create a basic means of magic. Why participate in this lecture and refuse to cast fire? We are in spells. Were you hoping to summon nothing?"

Macey became fed up with him. She groaned loudly like a lion, then stood toe with toe with him and glared into his dark brown eyes. Never had she been so close to a Heslington, catching a hint of bergamot and citrus with her nose.

"I can cast fire," she replied, feeling her magic beginning to conjure within her. She lifted the palms of her hands, with her hands now beginning to glow furiously and proficiently. A tiny burst of fire appeared and began to flutter around a now unsettled Connor, who stared at her creation in annoyance.