Lucky number 13! Things are still going along at a good pace. I’m not fully sure yet how I want to get the next Big Thing to happen, but I’m getting close so I’ll have to figure that out fast! In the meantime, I did some work on the whole premise of Blake Amata’s part in the larger story. Went and hurt my own feelings, y’all.
Word Count: 2141
Blake had tunnel vision on Ai’teli’s face. They looked peaceful, perhaps a touch shocked, and it didn’t seem right. Something so awful happening to them shouldn’t leave such an understated expression on their face. A burst of rage crossed his face as the absurd thought that it must all be an elaborate fake, a prank on him to wake him early in the morning, crossed his mind.
A breathy sob choked out of him; still no voice accompanied it, but it was the best he could do. His vision blurred and his chest seized with the desire to scream and cry at the sight before him.
Someone else did it for him. Blake became vaguely aware of others standing in the doorway to his and Ai’Teli’s room. Other students, perhaps, who’d been awakened by the sound of frantic movement. He caught a glimpse of one young woman with unkempt hair and rumpled pajamas covering her mouth with both hands.
“You look at me,” insisted the man who still had a grip on his arm. He used the tip of his wand, pressed into Blake’s cheek, to direct him where to face his gaze. There was still rage, caution, confusion on the man’s face, and for a moment they just stared at each other. Blake searched desperately for answers in the lines of the older mage’s face, while in return he received a distrusting scowl, searching him for answers just the same.
The healer scoffed. “Get him out of here,” she insisted. “We don’t know what happened. Regardless, it cannot be good for him to be here.”