CHAPTER XIV (14)- Echoes of Footprints

The boy he had sat next to the previous day appeared absent in Enchanting C. Kizu scanned the class for somewhere to sit. He suspected that Finn’s blatant refusal to look in his general direction implied that he wasn’t welcome near him. Just as he was about to sit alone, a bald boy with a bit of a pudge waved at him. Kizu’s memory grasped at any sort of familiar trait, but it came up completely blank. The boy appeared a complete stranger to him. Even still, Kizu wasn’t about to toss aside a peer who actually appeared inviting. Few enough friendly gestures at the academy to dismiss one without reason.

But before Kizu had a chance to ask him about himself, the professor came in and launched into the lecture.

Instead of yesterday’s practical work, the professor used the class to talk about theoretical uses of enchantments and how they’ve been used in the past. Kizu only half paid attention. He knew most of what she talked about from stories the crone used to tell.

He nodded off and only awoke when the other students stood up. With everyone filing out, he realized his day was over. He trailed after them, trying to decide what else to do for the day. He had history homework, but he put that in the back of his priorities. First, he wanted to experiment with some more actual spells.

Although the cafeteria doors were closed when he arrived, there was a little stall outside the double doors that served water and snacks. Exactly what he was looking for. He took a clay cup and found a quiet corner nearby to work on his studies.

Dipping his fingers in the water, he focused on it. He willed it to heat up. It was grueling and uninteresting work, but he dedicated himself to it. Occasionally, other students would wander by, often in pairs and likely looking for their own quiet nook, but they all left without bothering him. He did his best to keep his mind completely focused on the task at hand, shifting the water’s temperature. When he finally stood hours later, he felt woozy. But the cup of water now had tiny wisps of steam. He celebrated his triumph with a sip from the cup. Like tasteless warm tea.

“What time is it?” he asked his orb.

“Current time is half past midnight,” it told him.

“Seven hours of practice,” he mused to himself. He’d missed dinner entirely and even the library was already closed. Mort was probably going crazy in the room. He didn’t envy Basil trying to sleep with the monkey in there with him. If Basil ever even arrived. He still hadn’t met the other boy.

He walked through the dark halls, not bothering to light up his orb. He knew the general direction of the dormitories.

As he walked an echo of footsteps sounded directly behind him. He stopped and listened. Nothing. He continued on again. They resumed. He stopped six more times, each time with the echo footprints also ceasing immediately with his own. A search of the nearby area revealed nothing. Convincing himself it must be just a result of the sound from how the hall was structured, he kept moving forward. Still though, it bothered him. He took a detour, walking outside where there should be no echo. And still the footsteps followed after him.

He attempted to walk in place but made no sounds beyond his own normal soft footsteps. He decided to try walking in circles. After a dozen circles, he realized the steps were louder in one direction and softer in others. His curiosity outweighed his common sense, he followed the louder steps.

The echoing footsteps led him down into a different courtyard, this one a blooming garden full of flowers. He walked over flowerbeds, circling in on the area. Then, as suddenly as they had arrived, the footstops stopped entirely. But with the final step, he thought he heard a stifled giggle.

Again, he looked around himself. Nothing and nobody. Just flowers and a stone bridge over a little stream.

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Not knowing what else to do, he knelt down in the dirt and dug in the flowerbed with his hands. After only a minute of digging, his hand scraped against something solid. His fingers sought around the edges and peeled up a wooden box the size of a large melon.

For a while, he simply stared at it. He longed to try to open it, but that seemed like another extremely foolish idea. After a few minutes of deliberation, he decided on what to do.

Using the technique Arclight had taught him, he created an antimagic shield. Then, doing the opposite of what she had taught him, he stretched it out. He laid the shield on top of the box and waited. Nothing happened.

Kizu let his curiosity win again. He slid his fingers under the wooden planks and pried the top off with a yank. Inside rested an iron chain necklace with a smooth pendant on top of a leatherbound book. To the side of the book, a black knife with a wicked serrated blade was wedged between the spine of the book and the side of the box. Kizu let his shield fall on the objects. The shield shattered instantly. So at least one of the three objects must be enchanted. He tried three more times with smaller shields. Each barely touched one of the objects before it shattered. That likely meant all three had an enchantment or curse placed on them.

He placed the lid back over the box. Kizu debated burying the box again. He doubted anyone else would be able to find it. But still, if he wanted to study any of the objects again, he would need to go back into the garden in the dead of night to avoid suspicion. Another option would be to turn it over to Professor Kateshi. She probably would know how to analyze them and figure out who left them behind. Though that likely would result in never seeing them again.

In the end, he tucked the box under his arm and refilled the hole before starting back to his dormitory.

The crone had only taught him the basics of cursing items, not how to identify them. He would need to start studying more about enchantment theory and identification spells. He noted with a sigh that his to-do list was quickly expanding.

As he rounded a corner into another courtyard, he almost walked straight through Professor Grove. She hovered in place, as if studying him. Her light cast blue shadows over the small courtyard, giving the plants an ethereal aura.

“Kaga Kizu?” she asked after a moment. It was as if she thought she might be talking to herself.

“Yes,” Kizu admitted.

“What brings you out beneath the stars?” She sounded almost relieved.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. Not a lie. But also, not answering her question.

“Students should remain in their dormitories while the moon is out. I understand the urge to be out beneath the stars better than anyone, but there’s a reason why the curfew is in place for students. While the academy is a safe haven to mages, it still isn’t a place for recklessness. Dangerous creatures lurk about around this time of night. I will escort you back to your chambers.”

The wisp bobbed then began to guide Kizu back to his room. She never asked about the box under his arm, and he wondered how she managed to perceive the world without physical eyes to guide her. She might not even be able to see the muddy box. But then again, she seemed to see other nonliving things like walls and stairs just fine as she guided him.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a silent escort back to his chambers. Professor Grove filled the empty night with chatter about the different constellations out overhead and Kizu told her about the names the Crone used to describe them. That more than piqued her interest. She asked him about the correlations and what the witches believed in. By the time they reached his dorm’s painting, Kizu was chatting more than she was.

“Remember not to go out late after dark in the future,” she said to him. “You never know what might surprise you.”

With those words, she left him alone in the hall, holding his new box.

Once back in his dorm, he stashed the box under his bed just as an irritated Mort pounced on his head. He bit the top of his ear hard enough that Kizu worried about acquiring a new undesired piercing.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he apologized as Mort yanked on his hair. “Agh! I’ve got food. But you’ll need to climb off my head for it.”

Mort compromised, perching on his shoulder as he snacked on an orange slice Kizu had acquired at lunch. Juice soaked through Kizu’s shirt’s collar. He paid it no mind as he opened his book back up and resumed his divination sketches.

Still, in his peripheral vision, the corner of the box poked out from under his bed. He fought against the curiosity to examine his new prizes. Instead, he pushed it further under the bed with his foot and turned to the next page.