Part 4: It Is Her

The boy is like an itch I can't seem to get rid of. Before I know it, he catches up, and the reason behind this is that I don't know where the hell I am going.

"And your name?" He asks pleasantly, not at all offended by the fact that I just snubbed him a few minutes ago and acted like he was fucking invisible.

He must deal with a lot of crap if he is not fazed by such blatant coldness.

Not surprising.

Guys like him must be prey for school bullies.

I ignore him and continue heading west, with a determined and purposeful stride, like I know where the hell I am going.

"Is there a reason you are heading towards the cafeteria instead of the administration block?"

I do not detect a hint of teasing or mockery in his voice. I stop walking to look at him, and he stares back with all seriousness.

Is he joking?

I couldn't tell.

Now would be the right time to admit that I do not know where the fuck I am supposed to be, but my pride wouldn't let me speak. And secondly, I do not want to appear ignorant to him or ask for his help.

If there is anything I have learned over the years, it is that people easily take advantage of others, especially when they believe you are weak or ignorant.

"Would you remind me of your name again?"

He smiles as if to hide the fact that he slyly tried to learn something I never offered.

He is smart, but I am smarter.

"I never told you my name."

He doesn't flinch at my cold tone. He smiles instead. "And here I thought it was a slip of mind and not mere rudeness."

I cocked a brow at his gentle and perfectly veiled scolding.

I take back my initial assessment. This boy might appear weak, like someone who can easily be bullied, but his sharp tongue shows that he is no easy prey.

And he is probably smart.

"Come," he waves me along, like we are pals, and walks off, expecting me to follow.

I was tempted to dig my heels, to prove to him that I am no dog, but that would be me acting stupid.

It is obvious that I need his help, and the smart thing to do is to accept it, since it has been offered without my asking.

We had just turned a corner when Moksh suddenly stopped. Since I was trailing behind him, I nearly ran into him, but stopped in time before that could happen.

"Shit."

The fear loaded in that single word piqued my curiosity. I looked ahead to see three guys heading toward us.

The guy in the middle looks non-threatening at first glance, that is, until you look into his eyes.

If cruelty had a color, that would be his eyes. However, they are dark brown, almost black.

The two guys flanking him tower over him and are greatly muscled, but you only need to look at them to know that they took a hike when the creator was dishing out brains.

"Well, well," the leader of the trio sings songs when they get close enough, a sly smirk curling at the corners of his lips as his crazy eyes size up the boy in front of me like he is fresh meat he is seconds away from devouring.

Moksh stiffens. I could hear his heart race and smell the fear oozing off him like pheromones. I am tempted to walk away and let him deal with his shit. I am not here to make friends or to act as a hero.

For some reason, maybe call it a moment of stupidity, I decided to intervene.

"We are on our way somewhere, and you are blocking our way."

The sound of my voice draws the attention of the three boys, and their leader looks at me as if he is just seeing me.

Interesting.

I have never been invisible to anyone before. If not my eyes, it is the tattoos on my body. They tend to draw attention anywhere I go.

"And who do we have here?"

I don't know if it is intentional or the result of years of practice, but the boy with a mohawk haircut has a way of speaking that comes off as slippery.

Like a snake.

Not to be trusted.

"N-no one," Moksh stammered, moving his body slightly as if to shield.

My heart slams forcefully against my chest at his action. I look at him sharply, amazed. No one has ever defended me before.

Who is this boy?

His bravery was astonishing. It is obvious that he is scared witless by these boys, yet he would rise above his fears to defend a boy he just met.

The leader switches his attention to the dark brown-haired boy, one bushy brow cocked. He obviously thinks the boy is stupid.

"And the mouse bares his teeth," he taunts, his tone mocking.

I see Moksh stiffen, but he doesn't back down, his expression stubborn.

An emotion that amuses the Mohawk guy. He clicks his teeth at Moksh.

"Mouse, Mouse!" He calls, sounding like a big jungle cat calling out his prey. "It seems that you haven't learned your lesson. You dared to bare your teeth at me. Do you think I can't do anything to you because your brother is part of the Eagles?"

"We do not want trouble, Nate," Moksh responds politely, his eyes slightly averted from the crazy ones devouring him with their dark intensity. "Why don't you let us go?"

This Nate guy throws back his head and laughs, like Moksh just said the funniest words. "Let you go?" He repeats, his smile disappearing from his face as he stares at Moksh like he wants to skin him alive.

Moksh gulps at the ferocious look in Nate's eyes. He steps back and bumps into me, which stops his momentum.

"What do you want?" Moksh demands with a bravery that he clearly doesn't feel, his voice trembling like a leaf.

"For you to kiss my feet."

Ew!

Who does he think he is?

The Queen?

Even the most powerful being in our land demands we kiss her hand, not her feet.

"I am not doing it," Moksh refuses, a stubborn look in his eyes.

Nate grinned wickedly, like it was the response he was expecting.

"Then you wouldn't mind my boys teaching you and your little buddy a lesson."

The two boys with him grin wolfishly at us and advance toward us.

Before they could lay a hand on Moksh, I reacted. Catching one in his throat with my fist, which left him wheezing as he staggered back.

The quickness of my movement left the other guy stunned long enough for me to connect my fist to his jaw, sending him to the ground.

Without my powers, I knew I needed to be physically strong; it was the only way I could protect my family from those who hate us. So, I trained in the morning and at night. Building my muscles and strength, my agility, my speed.

Gifted are ten times stronger, twenty times faster than an average human, and if I am to have a chance against them in a fight, I need to be at least half as fast.

"You bitch!" Nate screeches, his eyes turning red just before flames appear at his fingertips.

He is a fire user.

Shit!

Gifted, with the fire element, as their power, are very volatile and unpredictable—just my luck, tangling with a pyromaniac on my first day.

"You are dead meat, dude!" Nate screams just as he hurls his fingers in my direction, sending a ball of fire toward me.

Before I could react, a shard of ice knocked the fire off course, causing it to crash into the wall behind me, turning the part where it landed charcoal black.

All movement stopped as we turned as one in the direction where the second attack came from.

A group of six students is heading toward us, and leading them is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.

Long white hair, like snow cascading like a river down her slender shoulders, small heart-shaped face, eyes like a cat with purple irises that captivate any soul fortunate enough to stare into their depth.

It is her.

The feeling I felt earlier when I thought someone was watching me.

When they all arrive, she doesn't look at me, but focuses her attention on Nate. "What is going on here?" She asks.

The authority in her voice makes me believe she is someone important, and the way she carries herself—

She must be powerful.

"Princess," Nate says with reverence, his head slightly bowed.

Princess?!

It can't be.

All the emotions I was feeling immediately drained out of me.

I hate the ruling family.