Breathe in the Embers

Part 31

Ah, the first day of school. Possibly the most iconic, repeating rite of passage every child experienced every single year. It was also the one that Martin hated the most.

His dorm was set up. It had been a surprisingly restful night considering he was both in an unknown place and one that had once been an asylum, and still looked it. If any school in the country was haunted, it had to be this one. Still, nothing had gone bump in the night, not even juvenile delinquents smacking the metal doors.

Come to think of it, he had lied to his parents and snuck out with two girls to dangerous parts of town, then participated in rather dangerous activities. Martin Kumalo, juvenile delinquent. That wasn’t a sentence he’d ever expected to make sense. And now, now he was at a special school for children who didn’t fit in at regular school, in a secured building with very tight security. Out of context, many would assume he was in juvie given that description.

The thought amused Martin as he stepped into his first class, Ethics of Vigilantism. Lithuega had laughed when he’d mentioned this class. She didn’t seem to think that others had any right to impose a moral code on those who were saving their asses. Martin believed it was imperative that those without power have some capacity to influence those with power, and that those with power understand the burden they have as well as the privileges. Great responsibility and all that.

She’d steadfastly refused to help him with the homework for this course.

Martin was relieved that he wouldn’t be forced to turn down such an offer himself. Lithuega was morally flexible in a way that was only acceptable since there was an outside influence upon it. Namely, Martin himself. If her contract had been with a super villain, Martin had no doubt she’d happily be embroiled in a plot as dangerous as that being perpetrated by Ishlithtavast. Both were topics of heated discussion each night. Lithuega’s willingness to behave badly, and the evil plot of the First Among Six.

Not a peep had been heard out of the powerful Carcolith since the factory fire. It was strange for her to be biding her time, or so Lithuega insisted. Ishlithtavast would typically complete a contract as swiftly as possible before returning home to her many palaces. If the weakest Carcolith lived like a king or queen, Ishlithtavast lived like a goddess, up to and including having the undying loyalty and love of those lesser than her. There was precious little that would keep her away for more than the absolute minimal amount of time.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Trying to figure out what that was occupied Lithuega quite a lot these days.

Martin took his seat, one of only a dozen, and found himself next to a rather large and unpleasant smelling young man. He was in very good shape, the kind of in shape that made you question why someone would waste so much of their life in a gym, lifting heavy things and putting them down. Surely it was a noticeable percentage of his life being frittered away. Then again, thinking back on his own summer of intense training, Martin had to admit that was a bit hypocritical. In another school, maybe it would seem a waste. But here? Most who went to Azimuth were planning to be super heroes. Physical fitness beyond basic health was hardly wasteful for them.

Martin had a lot of corrections to make to his way of thinking.

A girl slipped into the seat beside him, startling Martin from his thoughts. She was dressed in yoga pants and a hoodie long enough to make her legwear actually decent, as it fell to her mid thigh. The hood was presently up, and for some reason, the edge of it seemed to have fabric teeth sewn in, as though the hood were mid-bite and devouring her head. She turned to glance into her backpack as she set it down, revealing that atop the black hoodie was a set of purple x’s for eyes. Similar purple lettering also spelled out “Om Nom Nom” on the back.

It certainly made a lasting impression.

The hoodie girl glanced over, noticing his scrutiny, and nodded. Not down though, she nodded in a way that was more throwing her head back in recognition. Her expression was defiant, her eyes unwavering. Martin returned the gesture with a downward nod of his own, then turned his attention to his own bag and the school supplies contained within. So far the experience was disappointingly mundane, even down to his classmates. Not that Martin added an air of mysticism to the proceedings either.

Then the door opened, admitting the teacher, and Azimuth abruptly became a very magical place after all.

She walked in very prim and proper, back straight, pencil skirt shifting with every brisk step, the clack of heels accompanying her like applause. The whole room was silenced by that clacking. The black skirt was accompanied by a white button down shirt, one whose sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. Her long, straight black hair had bleached white roots and was pulled back into a solid sheet that went down past her neck. It looked almost like a nun’s veil. That might have been enough for Martin to realize who their teacher was, if the rest of her appearance weren’t a dead giveaway.

Two mantis-like arms were curled up over her shoulders, folded together and resting. Two insectoid wings were also folded against her back, visible past her legs. She smiled, perfectly done makeup showing off the elegant but somewhat severe facial structure, and a pair of very human eyelids blinked down over multifaceted, insect eyes.

“Good morning class, welcome to your first day at Azimuth. As many of you surely are aware, my name is Superior. I will be your instructor for Ethics of Vigilantism.”