Loathe - 4

[Lyra pov]

So it had begun…

I turned, leaning my head against the grain of the wood. Letting the rough texture play against my own hair. Ruffling it and turning it from a prim and proper bun into a twin mess. Where every strand went against the other.

The students… not only them, but hundreds more, each of which had taken the introductory class. Each of them had exited that illusionary realm, banished from it by either death - an unlikely occurrence with him - or escaped using a variety of methods.

Either way they had escaped, turning the deadly odds on their side, raging and struggling until finally something broke.

When they tried that last method that let them out of that realm. However when I was watching that realm it was…

It was hard to describe. The deadliness of the beasts that seemed to be beholden to that place. Where each and every one of them had the ferociousness of a tiger with the strength of a bear.

Nothing that those pampered nobles would struggle with. But it was in their numbers where I found true surprise, in the scenario.

Of course I had to sneak around to watch such a thing - only being for teachers as it was - but I was able to see enough to know that this was not regular.

My own… just last year was not that difficult. We had a clear objective and the monsters within were at a realm where even the weakest among us were able to kill two of them.

But these… it took at the very least two of those students in order to take down even one. Of course there were exceptions.

There were always exceptions, but they were just that. Exceptions, people who were so talented that talented could not begin to describe them. Monsters of another caliber. Who contended for the position of best.

Heh, it truly was a competition. Not that my roommate would know. Or maybe he did. It was a toss up really.

But either way, the way that he healed those people, brought them back from the brink of death and failure. 

It was no wonder that those old women were clamoring to get their grubby paws all over him, if I was one of them I would have fought like hell just for the chance to teach someone who showed just as much talent as he did.

Too bad I wasn't able to.

"Ready to go?" A voice questioned.

My teacher for this year. One of the picky ones, who only taught those with true talent. A true master of nature. 

Really I had spent my first year here fighting for money and the rest learning all about gardening under her tutelage. It wasn't bad for me but it was still quite boring at some points.

After all if it wasn't for her I probably wouldn't have ever had made it this far.

"Yep." I call out, leaning forward and catching my stride.

"Was there any talent you saw?" I asked idly, following beside her. Her green hair waving in the wind as she let the robe that she wore wave around.

It created an almost mystical feeling around her, one that she seemed to only perpetuate with her quiet voice.

"None as talented in the druid arts as you."

I nodded, fiddling with the small vine hidden on my person. Letting it curl around my finger and take the warmth of my hand for sustenance. 

"But…" She spoke once more, "Others will be overjoyed… especially her…" 

"Her?" I asked.

"Yes, she will be overjoyed, I don't think she has ever taught a class."

Was it…

It must have been. But for her to be so interested in someone, was it truly a coincidence that a grand healer was among the candidates around now, or was it a stroke of fate.

Either way I followed, making my way through the grand walkways. Through the ill fated training centers. Where those who had never been chosen practiced, hoping to be chosen. To be given lessons greater than what was given as a freebie.

General lessons that covered everything and equally covered nothing. Truly it was pitiful. To see such genius students suffer through what would never happen in another academy.

But it was their fault for being born just talented enough.

To know just how pathetic they were.

And when we passed a specific restaurant we turned. Unveiling the covers to sit on empty seats. Taken with nary a care.

Ordering a specific set of food that arrived soon after. And when we were done. The bill was given. And with it instructions.

"Take care… and do not be late." 

Teacher left. Just like that she left with but a word. Disappearing like the stars after a short day, hiding behind the moon and letting its light shine over by means of shadow.

…

And so I beat back, watching the proceedings, the countless students as they walked and talked. Stretching those muscles of theirs that had been so stressed within that realm of bloodshed.

Walking and talking. Walking and talking, an endless cycle of beginnings and endings. Where one found a teacher, a mentor, a friend, a foe. Another found nothing but the loneliness of a bottle.

Trying against fate to bring themselves back that naivety they had found within the loathsome dung that was their life. Crying endlessly in the training rooms, improving with vigorous care. But still, they were not chosen.

Talented they may be, but just as talented as they were, so too was the standards of those teachers.

Who approached only those they saw potential within.

And so those loathsome souls beat back the potential within them, walking and talking.

Always walking and talking.

Pouring that loathsome sadness of theirs upon another. 

Asking… oh how they asked… how they could improve, how they could be better. Yet none answered for they were the forsaken. Forced to learn themselves while the others soared with teachers that cared for all the needs of those they chose.