Haze of Dusk (A trilogy) Read online

  Khysso reviews the exam with the class, re-examining repetitive mistakes many committed. Assuring if there's no awareness on the subject, then in battle we're bound to die. I'm afraid to view him, but as I gaze up, the life force in him prevails in me. His voice fades, and only he stands before my eyes. The gentle gestures of his body; every speck on him, instantly becomes my world. I’m inside the cavern again. I'm burning up. My chest inflates and deflates with air in a speedy flow. I can’t find air to gulp down. The flow of the motions prickles my blood vessels. I need air.

  I push my hair back. “Are you alright?” Azania whispers over our instructor’s lecturing. I remove my brown kcowl cloak. There’s no way in hell I’m going to keep it on with such heat. It’s ridiculous, I’m one of the few kcowl members who wear it. And I’m the only girl, beside Azania whom wears the stupid cover-up. Although her shawl looks a lot lighter and comfier.

  “It’s hot in here,” I say. Azania pulls a face.

  “No, not really, it is like any other day. Oh-my, you are blushing. Perhaps you should wash up.” I exhale harshly. Khysso stops teaching to observe our rude uttering, but it’s my eyes he captures, disturbing me entirely. Azania apologizes, he clears his throat, and in a queer manner, he continues his lectures. I sigh heavily, the high temperature that only I absorb captures my atmosphere. I take my red feather writing implement, and turn it into a wooden fan. I flip it open and blow some air. Azania gasps. She insists magic is forbidden, and that I'm breaking the rules, but hell with the rules. The heat within me is devouring my skin in such a sadistic form that rubbing my skin is unbearable—it's worse than the cavern. Khysso’s eyes cross my way again. He notices the fan, but peculiarly, he says nothing. He rubs the back of his neck. “Ah…read section 560. I will return in a few.” Khysso says surprising us all. He heads out the room. The fan disappears because of nature’s magic law. Again, I turn the implement into a fan.

  “Psssh, Judyala!” Ramuso calls for me. I grimace. I rub my burning arm. He throws me a folded paper. I sigh stressfully. Ramuso and his letters. “Not now.” I complain. He chuckles. “Just read it!” he hisses. I carefully open the letter, his sloppy writing makes me laugh.

  —What’s up with you and the prick? You two look like you want to eat…

  I gasp to read the last nasty-perverted words he wrote. I scoff. Our look...our eyes barely met. I glare at him. He shrugs, hoping for a reply. That Ramuso is indeed terrible. Khysso enters the room in a flash. Nerve wreck by the letter I hide the paper behind me. But it’s too late. My suspicious behavior gives me away.

  “Miss Zayras, get up,” he says calmly. I obey him. He strolls to me. I swallow hard. The noise of my gulping identifies my anxiety. “Give it to me,” he requests, reaching out a hand. Oh that Khysso is good, how did he see it? Bratty, I shake my head disagreeing with him. There’s no way in hell I will allow him to read what Ramuso wrote. “I don’t have anything…” I assure. He wiggles his fingers. The paper flips out of my back and glides to him, but before he reads the great insult, I snatch the sheet and stuff it inside my trousers, shocking the classroom, but more of all, shocking myself.

  Ramuso, Osys and Onnet break into an earsplitting laughter, and for that loud behavior, they are punished, two broken rules for each. “Very well, let us amuse one another. I want to see you after class.” He says calmly. I grimace. Wait, no punishment… no broken rules. Oh-boy, this is going to be bad. At least, I got my troublemaker name back, thanks to Ramuso’s insolent paper writing.

  I stand next to Khysso. I'm breathless by the burning in me. I rub my hurting skin. He stares amuse by my oddness. “Am I in trouble?” I ask him, trembling because of the hotness. He leans his behind to his desk, aloof as typical. His dark-hair slid back, his devious small green eyes on me. I want to admire him, but I can’t, for any second now I'll faint. “Wizard Ronneto told me he is your guardian. He asked me before adding any broken rules to your book to consult him first, except you are making matters complicated. You have already broken six rules, and these are your first days. Using magic without consent, and disobeying. Do you enjoy these reckless behaviors?” I purse my lips. I desire to wash up. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. A nice cold shower. “I’m sorry Khysso, but it is so hot in here… ” I push back the hair that falls on my face. He stares at me stiffly, almost conquered by something.

  “Can I go? It's so hot…” I murmur. He wrinkles his face and urges forward.

  “You are weak, Judyala…” he halts, fixedly looking at my drowsy face. He touches my forehead. “You are burning up!” he exclaims in disbelief. The hand he rests on my forehead calms the heat within me. That’s when I figure, his touch is delightful. Stupor by his touch, my knees wobble. I lose stability descending to the floor, but his hands rapidly spread around me preventing me from falling. He thrust his body with mine, delicately holding me. And there, that jiffy… it leaves. The heat, the throbbing that infected my body is gone like magic. I lay my head on his chest. The warmness of his body conjoins with mine, relaxing the tender aches. But, it is his heart I’m concerned for. It races exceedingly fast. I'm sure it’s not normal,

  “Judya…”

  “Don’t say anything…just hold me,” I utter, resting on his arms. If I have any awareness in me. I would never commit such a disgraceful act. But the heat is frightening, and if by being with him I can overpower the ache, then, let it be. Gradually, the heat fades, and I feel more of Khysso's hard-rock body against mine. Things clear, and I’m capable of leaving his grasp, except he holds me with such tenderness, I fear parting from him.

  “Khysso?” A troubled-female voice calls. Khysso slightly moves his hands from my waist and in union we tug away from one another. I grind my teeth to find the disturbance is Casandree. She opened the door unexpectedly and stares stupefy, horror struck by what she encountered.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” Khysso says peacefully, not troubled at all. However, his words hurt me, for he is throwing me out of the room for that woman. I rush pass by her without looking back. The humiliation strikes me hard—walking to the mealroom I recognize he has no choice but send me away, for she’s his woman. So, it’s alright for them to be alone, yet, the thought of them together makes me feel worse.

  Entering the mealroom a group of people encircle me. They implore useless questions. Where are you from? How did you feel when you fought Jameson? Did you know he died? Why is your rank so high? So many questions at the same time shift the room in circles. I can’t take it, not after what just happened. I long for alone time. I shun away, ready to head to my room.

  “That’s enough, get away from her.” I’m relief to see Ramuso comes to my rescue. He takes my hand and drags me to our former table. My heart skips a beat as I notice who sits in our table, its Corr. He still reddens my cheeks and accelerates my heart. This must mean that dream with Khysso was just a blunder— that is it, from today on I won’t think, talk or look at Khysso Shorewen. All my attention is now for single Corr. Thus, my dreams can belong to him.

  Corr smiles to see me. I hope he doesn’t notice my redness, but because of all that commotion with Khysso, I’m already flushed. “Hey Judyala, glad you still want to join us. Since you’re so popular we thought you might want to hang out with the cooler kids.” Corr says—his eyes directly on me. What is he talking about? He’s the coolest of them all. “Yes…me!” Ramuso jokes and laughs. I giggle, amused by his behavior, but seeing Corr's eyes don’t move from me. I seal my lips overwhelmed by bashfulness. Ramuso puts a tray of food on the table, my sweet friend is still taking care of me.

  “So, did the prick punish you? Did he say something to you? Tell me so I can kick his ass,” he says sitting next to me. I snort, holding my laughter. It is not as if Ramuso can compete with powerful Khysso. “No, he just gave me a warning,” I say, but my untruth impacts them. I smile and I eat the solid food in silence, only that I can’t help but feel shy, especially since Corr’s eyes constantly embark, meeting mine. As common, t
he food is crappy and tasteless, so I season it with plenty of sodium and lemon-juice. “Holy-hell, you are that annoying kid. No wonder the persistent behavior…hah….” I think it finally hit Onnet the boy he shared a room with is, in reality, a girl. “No wonder you are clean.” he mumbles over his breath. Ikumus snorts. “You are truly a moron,” it is Ikumus first words since my arrival.

  A chunky cheek, blonde girl walks to our table, by her side are three other girls. She stands next to me and smirks. “Are you Judyala Zayras? The girl who fought Jameson,” all eyes move to the strange girl. Just lovely, another admirer. These people don’t let me eat in peace. “Yes…” it comes out rudely.

  “Then you are his killer. You killed my little brother,” I frown, my heart races. Brother, this girl is his sister. I glimpse at my friends who gape overtaken by the girl’s arrival. I stand, “I-I’m sorry for what happened but—”

  “But you killed him.” She cuts in. She views her surroundings. “This woman killed my brother!” she exclaims creating a diversion. “Hey, relax. Nobody killed anybody. Your brother died out of magic shortage.” Ramuso defends me.

  “No, he died because of her!” she points at me.

  “He died because he was a fool and challenged Jorsay!” Osys snaps.

  “You have no remorse. You killed my brother… he was a child. How can this be accepted? She’s a highest sorcerer. My brother was a bear amid magician. You should be slain for killing him,” her words strike my chest, reminding me of my wrongdoing. “Hey you, that’s enough, don’t you think.” Onnet hisses, but I can’t take her insults. I rush out of the room. I hold the pain in me. I won't show weakness. What’s left of my day has been ruined. Never did I think this but… goodness, I miss Duolic. For the first time ever, I yearn home. I hurry to a nearby garden.

  “Judyala wait!” I sigh to hear Ramuso. I want time for myself. I turn around, about to nag to him for following me, but I fall startle by them all. The five of them came to comfort me, peculiarly, even Ikumus.

  “Don’t listen to that girl. She’s brain-dead.” Ramuso says. I miserably exhale and sit on an old stool-bench nearby. “But she’s right. I killed that boy. My dragon killed him.” Corr sits next to me. I overlook our closeness because right that instant, sorrow conquers. “You didn’t kill anyone. Don’t let her make you feel as if you did. She’s clearly still mourning him. Also, its deathrow, he was going to kill you. You simply fought back. I know it hurts, but you’re going to have to learn to scrap that pain,” Corr’s words are delightful, he’s truthfully kind. No wonder I like him so much.

  “Yeah…do you know how many people try beating me up after I won my deathrow battles…hah…countless.” I grimace, “you won battles, how?” The words rudely slip out of my mouth, the crew laughs. It’s hard to believe tiny, scary-cat Osys can win anything. “We ask the saaaame question,” Ramuso adds. I quietly laugh. It worked, my friends company helped me smile, and ignore that girl’s painful words. Still, in me, I will always apologize to Jameson, for being part of his death.

  “So, tell us Judy. How did you fight the magic disruption?” Onnet asks. My friends persist for an answer. I smile. Their comfort is nice. “I don’t know really…it just happened. As long as I didn’t use magic it didn’t affect me…”

  “And she’s a highest sorcerer. What do you expect, wolf man.” Ramuso taunts his intelligence. “It’s strange, that a female can conjure sorcery, when many that have tried have lost their minds or died trying. Tell me, why is that, Judyala?” Ikumus asks. He stands leaning against a tree, apart from us all.

  “I’m not sure. When I was two years old, I began lifting objects. At three, I began conjuring fire. At four, I summoned creatures from storytelling. This scared my father, so he got me a guardian. Vin Srogeri, magically educated me.” I explain.

  “You have been conjuring elements since you were a child. What the bloody-hell! That’s preposterous. I didn’t learn how to conjure the elements until my tenth year.” Onnet argues. “That is because normally that’s how long it takes for a typical sorcerer or magician to conjure. End of first years, the reach of elevation, second-years, concentration in elements, third-years, concentration on uniting two powers, and mid years, concentrating of uniting three powers if surpass two. Old age… concentration of all subjects, which creates the magic legacy, highly unreachable. Obviously, the one eccentric here is Judyala.” Ikumus says turning the situation odd. That’s him, always making matters creepy. But as bizarre as it sounds, his words make me ponder. Since I was a child I wasn’t normal. I didn’t go through the normal step-by-step stages. I always skipped, why is that?

  A little after the chattering and sharing my life story with my friends we parted, Ikumus went to his lair after pointing out my abnormalities, and the rest went in back of a few pretty girls who visited the kcowls sector. Corr is the only one left. His company yanks my anxiety, delivering in me coyness.

  “How are you feeling, still thinking about that girl?” He asks as we walk to physical training. My silence must've worried him. “What she said is hurtful...I just don't know if I can live with a reminder.”

  “Oh, but you don’t have to worry about her anymore. Ronneto appeared the instant you left. I’m sure she got what she deserved for causing turmoil.” I frown. Great, now she’s in trouble because of me. “I like your hair, the color is eccentric,” his intentions are clear. He is striving to remove her from my mind. “It’s an odd color,” I admit.

  “Nah, it’s beautiful, brilliant like the red suns, goes well with your fair skin, light eyes, and blood-red lips. You and your brother don’t look much alike, must be the different mothers.” I bashfully smile. Jorsay really does look like Papa… I certainly must look like my birth mother. “So, how does it feel to have such popularity? It’s surely not only because you’re beautiful but because…” Corr's voice fades. And I slope into a bottomless daze, and I thought my day couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong. My legs automatically move closer to the opening of the swan garden. I identify them, my heart clashes, yanking to the ground. Casandree wraps her arms around Khysso's back, as he stands still, not capable of saying anything, or any struggle from his part. My mouth dries, and bitterness possess me instantly revolting my stomach.

  “… Right in the open, again…” I utter to myself. A figure remains close to me. I gasp. What have I done? Corr stands next to me. He now sees how his beloved woman embraces Khysso. “Again…” Corr repeats. But he rest at ease, no longer raging with hate. “I’m sorry you have to see this…” I say considering his feelings. He chuckles, seeming pretty calm.

  “Don’t worry, I got over it,” he unperturbedly says. He enfolds an arm around me. “Let’s train you hard today.” He insists nonchalantly. He lures me away from the unpleasant sight, and we stroll down the hall. His behavior stuns me. Why is he laid back with the situation? He couldn’t have forgotten her so soon? And why am I the one in despair. Since that encounter, my chest holds such weight, I feel I’m suddenly going to break.

  - 17 -

  Conflicts

  I rest in the swan meadow with my hands, and legs spread apart. The memory of Casandree hugging Khysso from behind repeats itself in my mind. He appeared indifferent. She must’ve taken him by surprised. Perhaps she was pleading for something, but what? Really, why do I care? Why can't I take this out of my mind? It's been days since this encounter. What’s wrong with me? Ever since that dream, my thoughts have been tempered, and I don't like it. At least avoiding Khysso has aided my curiosity. For class, I never look up, I assure I'm as hushed and still as a statue. Even if he calls me for a resolution to a question, I give the answer looking through the book. And when the hourglass chimes, I run out faster than a wolf.

  My friends asked me about my weird behavior. “I got my visitor...or I have to use it.” My comebacks always provoke laughter. I wish to confess my truth—I dislike meeting with Khysso. He makes me feel weird, more like sick. But, what if they take it the wrong way. I need help, I n
eed guidance, what to do?

  “Judy…ala…” a soft voice stops me from pulling my hair out of my head. I nervously chuckle. I sit up and stare at the pretty girl who stands tall, looking down at me. She dresses in a peculiar outfit, with a green wrist and forehead strap. She looks ready to battle with her bow and arrows in her quiver.

  “Hey Azania, what’s with the outfit?”

  “It is elusion sphere phase, the tournament.” I grimace. What the hell is she talking about? “You know… elusion sphere … when two teams compete against one another with oval balls thrown to the archer…on the field…” I shake my head in confusion. I don't have an idea of what she speaks of. She giggles, probably at my unawareness. “Of course, since you’re not a ribbon, doubtlessly, you would not know much about our pastime. Still, everyone is going to be there watching. Even the kcowl and the warrior members join to watch. Did your friends not tell you?” I bite my lips trying to recall some of their behaviors. Ramuso did say something of watching one of his admirers engage in action, but I didn’t pay mind as my dramatic emotions conquer my prospects. “Probably... I just forgot.” I murmur pensively. She sits next to me. “Are you alright? You don’t seem well. Want to talk about it.” She says in her sweetest tone. I smile at her. “No, I’m alright,” what are you doing? This is a girl here. She can answer some of your questions. She can be a good friend, and might understand you.

  “Are you sure, is it boy related? Are you in love?” She whispers. I look at her in amazement. How the hell did she figure me out so soon? Is it that obvious? “No, I'm not in love." I assure her. She miserably sighs. “Love is complicated. It’s hard to understand it really.” I frown, what would she know about love? She’s a kid.