Intro

Rorson Vlaskier has the ancient blood of demons in his viens, and the power it could've granted is unimaginable. With his family slaughtered, and their blood plaguing his memories, that dream has become impossible. Rorson is set on achieving the goal of the simple life his parents and theirs before couldn't have.

Except nothing seems to abide my this simpleton's wish. A contract is formed, and Rorson must attend The Academy to learn control, or risk being killed like his family by the ever watching Organization in charge of public safety.

Caught in the cross fire of two hot headed room mates battling for turf, Rorson is in the spotlight more times than he bargained for. Where can these two, over energetic mages lead this seemingly cold hearted and indifferent demon? and why does an Unknown Number keep messaging him?

§ § § §

I stared at the unfamiliar scene from the window. The nip of the wind glanced across my bare shoulders, the rising rays of sunlight bathed my obisidian feathers in warmth. I had them stretched along the outside wall as I sat of the ledge, facing inwards to the spacious dorm room. Two beds already piled with the belongings of who ever my roommates where.

Life was getting to complicated now, and it made my head hurt. Just as I was debating on jumping from the window for a flight the skies were begging for, the door was swung open with a solid thud that jolted me back to reality. Two of the five people pouring in where trying to strangle the other, and one attempting to dismantle the struggle before it went over board. While it would have been a good show, the fight was broken up before it even begun.

"Would you two chill out?! It's like watching puppies trying to challenge a fucking lion! Go play with your dildos if you have nothing else to do!"

My nose scrunched up at the last part. Why would people even use those? Then again, I don't take it, I give it. Apparently the two hated one another, and they parted to different places. One left through the sliding panel leading out of the bedroom to the lounge room, the other sprawled on his back on a bed. Mumbling incoherently on about the other being an asswipe.

"Wow. That's officially the fastest you've broken up their fight Matt."

"Well, maybe because we had a new audience this time 'round?"

The guy on the bed pointed out with one arm draped over his eyes and the other waving in my general direction. Catching the attention of the other three who finally took note that I was alive.

"Who're you?"

"Luke Skywalker..."

"Sure- Seriously. Why are you in the window?"

"Why are you a highlighter?"

I deadpaned. Making the guy fume and fall silent. He actually did look like a highlighter, with his hair dyed a neon green and all. I felt that if I grabbed him and flipped him upside down. I could actually highlight something, other wise his life long dream is to be a light up sign in Las Vegas.

"Anyway-" the guy on the bed rolled to stare at me with boredom. "-your in my window half naked like it's no ones business. Explain, without insults."

I scowled down at myself. Having a massive wingspan of over 25ft meant shirts grew rather troublesome, and 110.9% of the time I forgot to put one on. Like a child. Mentally I scolded myself for my stupidity and hopped back off the ledge. Folding my wings in and dropping to the floor, my head under the bed, searching for the blasted bag I had clothes in tailored so they weren't so uncomfortable.

"Get used to it. This is my dorm and I always forget shir-"

"Is no one gonna mention to me there's a half naked Greek god with wings in my dorm?"

I jumped so much my head slammed into the under frame and I slithered out from under and sat up growling. Sending a rather killing glare to the guy who came back in from the lounge room.

"-well no. That means you'd know about him."

Feeling ignored, I stood and went into the lounge room. Finding the duffle bag that mainly held weapons and returned and sat myself down. Turning the bag upside down to empty it, stray bullets, a few grenades and various throwing knives and even a loaded Glock 9 9mm dropped out.

"Holy shit!"

I slapped the hand who's reached to grab the gun.

"That's loaded with blueberries that corrode your skin on impact, don't touch. The blades are also poison imbedded in the mental, don't touch either. Frankly, don't touch anything."

I mean it wasn't a lie, it did have those little fun facts in them, but I don't like people touching my stuff. Call me selfish or territorial, but I simply don't like it. I felt a hand pet the small, humming bird like feathers that replaced skin at the nape of my neck, I can never decide if it's a pleasant feeling or repulsive when someone touches them. They appeared on my neck, collar bone and the inside of my forearms when I formed the contract with Jormín a few years back. When I officially got my wings and spent time learning to use them and maneuvers, flying was still exhausting even now.

"Are you asking to lose your fingers?"

"but its so soft!"

I turned and glared at the guy who'd made me bash my skull in. His golden brown eyes fixated on the small feathers, I only scoffed and resumed shuffling through the duffle bag pockets for a shirt. Before my hunt could bear fruits, those overly touchy feely fingers followed the line of feathers to the ones coating my collar bone. I snatched the intruding limb and glared again at a grinning blonde bastard. Who was evidently to cunning and to hot for his own good. His glittering, mischeif filled eyes met mine. Sunlight setting his hair aglow like a fuzzy halo, tearing my eyes away I dropped his head and stretched one wing out for him to touch instead of my body. He had no sense of personal space, but thankfully he set to inspecting the various shades of black and reflecting blue of my inner feathers. The heat creeping up my neck gratefully was hidden by the smaller ones. Giving up, I caved knowing finding a shirt was hopeless and him touching my wing was distracting. I tucked it back and fell on my side facing the wall, but the bloody bastard was still set on inspecting the joints of them. Lifting the bone and pulling it so the wing stretched out to full length.

"Holy shit! They're huge!"

"Well duh, to support a human frame the gotta be."

"What species?"

He bounced slightly, making my wing as well. Did this person really have no sense of personal respect? I highly doubted he'd want to know, but I gave him an answer anyway.

"Demon. Formed a contract a bit ago."

"Lucky, but Demons are intrusive, pervert little fuckers at times."

"Your like a fox kid, much worse than demons, but there's always gonna be a hunter."