It was another travel day today for me. I am back home and very glad to be among my things (and I even planned ahead and put new sheets on my bed before I left). I did today’s writing while sitting around the Minneapolis airport, so there’s not as many as there could be, but I have built up a lot of buffer in the early parts of this month.
Word Count: 784
He was ready to grab fresh clothes from his box when he paused, staring down at his side. A familiar old marking greeted him, a faint orange burst that crackled across his side and up under his arm, and partially down his thigh.
Scars from cast spells could look a lot of different ways. Blake’s was unique to him, a permanent discoloration and slight toughening of the skin it covered. He traced a finger absently over one of the branches of the scar that angled over his belly.
Ai’Teli had cast the spell that left him with that scar. They hadn’t meant for it to strike him so hard, nor to have this effect on him. They’d been attempting to mix known spells for new results, well before either of them had learned such things in classes. They didn’t know how to control the magnitude of such a volatile mixed spell.
He didn’t even remember the pain. He remembered writhing on the ground in the courtyard where he and Ai’Teli had been practicing their sparring. He remembered a class of new students rushing over with their instructor to see what had happened. He remembered Ai’Teli in near tears as they hovered over him, apologizing over and over. The spell had hurt – but Blake didn’t remember what it felt like anymore.
He remembered Ai’Teli staying by his side in the infirmary as often as they could. He didn’t let them skip classes – even in good health, if he caught them trying to skip out on lectures he didn’t let them get away with it. But they came by whenever they could, even doing some of their homework at the foot of his bed. They collected notes from Blake’s classes and brought them to him so he wouldn’t waste away from boredom.