Haze of Dusk (A trilogy) (11 page)

Khysso was twelve years old when he joined the castle, the youngest child to join, since he was an orphan and nobody wanted him, he was thrown to face the war. The leaders didn’t expect a
twelve-year-old to be a survivor, and never imagine that his powers surpass the strongest sorcerer in Doomsvell, but Khysso’s abilities, has made him a legend. It is because of his great knowledge and power why Khysso became an instructor at the age of seventeen, the youngest instructor in history.  I think because of the praises the higher authority gives him, nobody, especially men, never have liked him. I heard by gossip, not even the castle’s instructors like Sorcerer Cocky. Yes, his snobbery pushes people away, but that’s who he is, a friendless man. And although the boys disliked him to the extreme, I actually pity the thief, for not only is he alone, but he doesn’t have a family, and now is surrounded by odium. Well, at least a bunch of girls crush on him. That should make him happy.

Ramuso and Onnet enjoy
spitting on Khysso’s name by stating he's an awful instructor, but I have to disagree for I acknowledge Khysso the thief is the best instructor I've encountered, and I’m not saying this because he's succulent. Seriously, his explanation is clearly stated—his speeches effortlessly understood.
“Hey, pass this to Hellinia,” great, Ramuso starts with his romantic letter passing. I glance at Hellinia, a tan skin, fourteen-year-old girl.  I exhale noisily and take the paper. I roll my eyes. “I am so sick—”

“
Apprentice Zayras,” Khysso’s voice is so intense I almost fall out of the chair.

“
Ye-yes…Sir...Sorcerer!!” I stutter standing and placing the letter behind my back, unnoticeably sticking it inside my pants. “What was I saying?” This is the part where another apprentice gets so nervous he or she begins to cry, because they have no idea of the lecture. Then Khysso punishes them by taking them to a corner where they have to write, “I shall pay attention,” together with a broken rule. Luckily, this isn’t arithmetic, and staring at the wall I figure it all out.

I b
ite my lips.

“
The dissimilarity between sorcery and magician and its highest intensity,” I say sure of myself. He stares at me sneakily, almost in a daze. “And what are the exact ages of magic intensity? What rank at maximum can a sorcerer and magician reach upon on?” He speaks inaudible, although his lips move he stays still, staring deep into my eyes, burning my cheeks.“T-there are five ranks a wizard and sorcerer can fall upon to, in which are:
novice
, age six to eleven. 
Amid
, age twelve to sixteen.
Sway novice
, age seventeen to thirty
. Sway senior
, thirty to sixty, and
highest
in which varies from age fifty to ninety. Nonetheless, twenty-seven sorcerers in the past century, attained rank highest at the age of forty-five making the numbers an outstanding discovery,” and should I mention, one sorcerer has made it to category highest by age twenty-two, a level no human, elf, or entity has EVER reached,  meaning you’re a legend, Khysso. Also, I know your secret. You can break nature’s magic law. You're indeed the most powerful
.
He stares at me foregone.

“What ar
e legacy stimulations?” He asks as if looking right through me. I clear my throat.
This is weird.
“Legacy stimulation is known as the genetic dispute: it is the condition of joining more than one power in a few seconds. Knowledgeable magic uses are: altitude, movements, changes, illusions, summoning, and ambiance all at once. Magic Legacy stimulation should be primarily obtained by sway novice for sorcerers and sway senior for wizards,” I utter feeling strange. In the end, we weren’t talking about magic stimulations. Khysso hurries to me and gives me a writing implement form like a dagger.

“
Represent legacy stimulation, do it with this implement,” I scowl. He wants me to demonstrate how I can lift, alter the object by changing its form, and increasing its speed all at once. The only problem is… it’s impossible.  I shake my head and push the tool away from me. Magic disruption can cause harm. Also, I’m Jorsay— he hasn’t reach that level yet, he’s fifteen! Is this fellow mad? Khysso stares at me peculiarly. Silence takes over for a while. “Ah, pardon…I have forgotten I’m dealing with
amidst
,” I gasp, feeling insulted by his nasty expression….amidst…I’ll show him. I’m at least a sway senior.

“I don’t need the writing tool. I'll be
happy to show you with the room.” I say exciting everyone around us. It is not just anyone who can demonstrate magic legacy by altering an entire area; a small object is the normal ability for a twenty-two-year-old sorcerer, but an entire room is more likely for a thirty to be forty-year-old.

I close my eyes, consuming a gentle breath, slowly lifting my hands and letting my fingers find each other on the air. The room instantly changes reflecting a beach; the sounds of the waves making it seem
real. We no longer have oceans, consequently, it is clear my practice is an illusion. I swiftly distort the image closing in the walls on us, then changing our gravity; the hair in our skin lifts.  As I gently bring my hands to meet my upper stomach, a piercing pain in my abdomen interrupts my concentration, the pounding sensation causes weakness, flashing my real hands. I drop the magic, and tensely sit down. My body is shaking. It’s true what Vaniele said, magic disruption can destroy my transformation.

Ramuso, Onnet and Osys stare at me astonish. I stroke my arm, assuring I’m
still in Jorsay’s skin. A bit longer and the people around me would had discovered me. I sigh in relief. Nobody noticed the sudden change of my hands, for everyone is under the spell of my skills. The girl’s in the room stare at me giggling. But the look that worries me the most is Khysso’s. His glare pinches my tension…

“That’s a high procedure, apprentice Zayras.  You just did magical legacy—very impressive. Only a few get to create so many motions in a room within seconds at your age…you must be indeed…very powerful,” he stares deeply. I bite my bottom lip. It’s what I do when nervous. But more anxious I’ve become as Khysso’s eyes don’t leave me.
Could it be he is suspicious, did he see it?

The hourglass chime
s, class ends. I groan relief, and speedily pick up my manuscripts. “Damn, why didn’t you tell us you were that powerful? What you did for a fifteen year old. That was astonishing. You are over thirty years ahead.” Onnet says thrill. I partly smile.
Don't talk to me, I just want to leave before...

“
Apprentice Zayras, can I speak with you?” I groan. What I fear happened. He wants to uncover me, take my mask off. But I have something against him, he won’t pull me down. “He can’t stand you’re probably more powerful than him,” Ramuso mumbles, and with the others he departs. The room is deeply quiet. The gentle cracks of the walls whisper an undertone thud. It’s me and Khysso, standing, facing one another. His chest strangely inflates with air. The movements of his upper body are awkwardly quick. He clears his throat and leans on the desk, his hands on his pockets. I want to ogle, but I try to overlook the perfect broad shoulders and nice lay position. 

“Yes…
Sir,” I murmur. He narrows his eyes, fixedly looking at me. A bit harder and I would faint...maybe melt too. “You are a smart young man, are you not? Outstanding not only in magic but in studies, it’s like…you have already taken all these lectures,” my heart begins to race, swallowing becomes difficult. He has found about my reality.
Damn it Judyala, you are so dim.
I laugh unreasonably.

“N-not…that smart…I…I am really bad in
arithmetic,” I stutter inaudible, quite foolishly I have to admit. “Apprentice Zayras, do you know what an Alfimati Potion is?” I grimace. That's the potion I used to poison our stomach. “No sir, I don’t…what is it?” I act very cool. Lying perfectly has become typical for me.

“It’s a potion created by the most herbalist substances. Nevertheless, it’s highly dangerous. If it
is used correctly it can take hunger away but… if too much is used it can kill the consumer. A perfect amount for a definite purposed can give a very disturbing stomach pain making it seem like food poisoning. Magic can’t determine it because of the natural condiments. Only eminent priestess and sorcerer in our history know this potion. Now tell me, when, and how did you learned it?”
Oh crap, he knows…wait, that’s it...

“
Learn what? I don’t know what you’re talking about…Sir.” I say with a straight face. He chuckles, “come on kid. You have broken a major rule in the book. So why don’t you confess. You might just be forgiven.” I take a few steps away from him and rest my hands on my hips. I’m feeling like myself again, bratty. “I see… so we’re talking about rules right…hmm…” I purse my lips. “Tell me Khysso…”

“
It is Sorcerer—”

“Shorewen…” I cut
in, “do you know what a Siren stone is?” I continue. He scoffs. His eyes on me, “of course…”

“Then you know of its powers. How i
t’s capable of protecting anybody that wears it  near their heart, protecting the carrier from any danger they come upon. If a sword or an arrow meets one’s body the weapon would break. If attacked by an arclaw, the stone can prevent the harm. Instead, it causes damage to the attacker. A Siren stone makes one invulnerable, and I think…if used in this castle…hmmm….” I locate a hand on my chin. “I think it is called dishonesty and the carrier is breaking the based magic rule, regulation number twenty-five of the acts... magic equipment usage without the leaders knowledge, fifteen broken rules. Now,
Khysso
…do you still want to talk about the rules?” I mock his intelligence. Our eyes are meeting, there’s flame in his. I’m thinking he’s going to strangle me. But shockingly, he falls into a wily laughter.

I’m conquered by
how perfect and striking his mirth is, but I’m also disturbed by it, for he mocks me. “Excuse me…” I don’t want to be one more second with this man who knows how to agitate my nerves. I pick up my books from my desk and head to the door, leaving the man in an unexpected silence. I take the door knob,

“
wait!” he calls lifting my hairs. I turn to him with a serious expression. I want him to see how he infuriates me. “I’m not done with you yet… Judyala.”

-
           
9
-

Finding truth

I
feel it in my skin. When he looks deep into my eyes, it is as if he’s looking right at me, not Jorsay. Khysso Shorewen doesn’t have a dumb bone in his body. Still, strangely I’m not nervous, or concern about my discovery, maybe if it’s someone else I might shiver to the thought, but since its Khysso, I feel my secret is awkwardly secure. “Do you know how many rules you are breaking? I think you go over fifty,” it is his turn to ridicule me, step on my intelligence. “No wait, with the food poisoning, and all the other trouble you have caused, I’ll say seventy-five rules have been broken. Ah damn it, you’ve tripled twenty five rules…there goes your head…oh well. The district WILL enjoy knowing this.”

“I’ll cut your tongue before you say someth
ing!” I hiss at him. He raises his eyes, shock by my expression. “Then, it is true…you are a
she
…” I gasp. Did I just give myself away instead of denying his assumption? Judyala you have to control your temper. It was a trap, and you foolishly fell for it. 

Khysso
laughs. “You are so gullible,” he insults me with his rude tone.

“Fine
, I am gullible. But you tricked me. And I swear if you say something, I will tell everyone about the stone.”

“And who is going to believe you? A sneaky little boy….wait, I mean a sneaky little-girl… who has broken
so many rules.” I can see excitement in him, almost happiness. At least now I have seen his perfect smile. “You have been kept alive for ten years. I'm sure they’ll figure it out.” I snap, losing my patience with him. For some reason, he’s the type of person that easily arouses the bitch in me.

“Tell you what. Let us be fair. We can both win this.” I sneakily meet with his devious eyes.
I don’t like this.
“What do you have in mind?” I undertone.

“Forget the stone, and I shall forget about who you are,”
how am I winning. That bastard
. “If…I say yes, you won’t get in my way, and you won’t EVER say a word about my real identity.” He shakes his head.

“I will
sew my mouth before speaking. But the stone…is mine, and you can never request it.” In the end, he did have my stone, and the thief never intended to return it. And I was hoping he confessed he’d lost it. But no, my stone he still keeps.

“If it’s so important
to you to be invulnerable…fine, keep it. To me, my brother’s life is more important than the stone,”
although…it is the only memory I have of my mother.
“Whatever—keep it!” it hurts me to say. He sits on his chair, pushing the black-hair that falls on his face back. He rubs his chin, sort of observing me, molesting me with his devious stare. “Who would’ve known we’d meet again,” he says. I scowl.
Is he ogling?
No it can’t be… I’m a boy, silly Judyala.