Class finally came to an end. After talking at the group of students for an hour or so, I was relieved from my duty as the crisp sound of a bell chimed through the air, having no apparent origin. If nothing else, the college certainly has some interesting applications of magic. I waited for the students to slowly file out of the room, so I could be left to my own devices.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t freed from my obligation as a new teacher so easily. The heretic princess for whatever reason appears to have remained in her seat. I walked over, eager to hurry her on her way. As I approached, I couldn’t help but rub my fingers back and forth as a few desires crept to the forefront of my mind. Nobody else was here… Unfortunately, I vaguely recall the old fellow mentioning indoor fires being against their ‘health and safety regulations’.

“Excuse me, Grace. Did you need something from me?” I asked amiably.

“Umm… Yes, actually I do need your help, if you wouldn’t mind.” Replied Grace. Her face showed conflicting emotions, as she began to hesitate. Oh, Sol give me patience. The bloody girl hasn’t even made up her mind about whether she intends to actually ask whatever it is of me.

“And that is?” I prompted, my tone still warm and friendly.

“My request is… Umm, a bit unusual.” She responded. She paused briefly, looking at my mask as though attempting to pry something from the frozen features, before continuing, “I know it’s against school regulations for teachers to privately tutor pupils… but I was wondering if you’d maybe…”

Well, I got the idea, even with the girl’s evident lack of urgency. I studied her for a moment: for what it’s worth, her request seems genuine for whatever reason, and not because she appears suspicious of my origins… However, it would be unwise to associate with this girl considering her status within this diseased country.

“I assume you’re asking for private tutoring then?” I asked with a chuckle; it’s best to keep the conversation light and friendly after all. I cocked my head to the side, before asking, “For what reason would the princess of entire country want tutoring from someone with an unknown background, and in all honesty, someone who has questionable teaching skills?”

“If I was attributed with any other kind of magic, then I wouldn’t need to ask this of you…” she began to explain. Why on earth would her attribute be a problem? My head remained cocked to the side, as I looked at her inquisitively.

“W-well… There aren’t any other light-attributed magic teachers. Since light magic’s commonly associated with the kingdom of Sol to our North, people tend to discriminate against it, and should one be born with such affinity, they tend not to use it…” she said, her eyes downcast, and a hint of frustration building up in her voice.

These heretics and their confusing practices. Light-attributed magic is a blessing of the highest degree, by our lord, Sol. For them to waste such a gift for what? My palm had a familiar and faint itch. It’s frustrating when you see so many sinners, but aren’t allowed to carry out your duty.

“It just so frustrating! As a country, we’re amongst the most non-discriminatory in the world, and yet we discriminate against light magic of all things!” exclaimed the princess, getting clearly worked up over the whole thing. “And if it wasn’t for those monsters to the North giving it such a bad name, I would never be in this situation.”

Monsters? My eyelid twitched and I could feel my cheek cramp as I held back my righteous fury. Calling the devout followers of the church of Sol monster, hmm? Sol forsaken hypocritical country, with its stupid people. No, no… Calm down. She’s a child who doesn’t know the glory of Sol. Of course she would say such things, with the polluted ideas about the devout followers of Sol being filtered into her mind each day.

“So, I’m pleading here. Please, give me private tuition. I’ll make it worth your while! Anything you need, just ask! My siblings are easily surpassing me in magical studies… It’s frustrating.” She said, as she clutched her hands together, looking at me with what could only be described as puppy-dog eyes.

I leaned back on one foot and took a moment to think. This naïve young girl, wants private tuition so as not to be outcompeted by her siblings. She seems quite desperate too. Is that an opportunity I smell?

“I’m willing, but in exchange there’s something I’d like to ask of you-” I replied. The heretic princess’s eyes began to shine with delight. She jumped up from her desk and cut me off before I could continue speaking.

“Anything you want!” she exclaimed, as though afraid I’d somehow take back my words. I cast and annoyed glance at the princess who’d seemed to have lost a number of manners.

“Yes, well as I was saying: I was rather intrigued by the heroes the class mentioned today. I was perhaps wondering if you could set up a meeting for us. I am quite interested in meeting them, but very much doubt I’d get a chance considering the difference in status…” I explained my request. I looked meaningfully at the princess. Her determined attitude hesitated for a second as she digested my request.

“I-I can do that! I can get my father to arrange an outing for the heroes and I, and you can join once we exit the royal residence!” said the princess, she pondered a few moments more before following up with, “It won’t be able to be too soon. Probably in only a month or so when the heroes and their companions are properly settled in, but I’m pretty good friends with them, so I think I can push for this. I’ll even put in a few good words about you when I next meet them!”

I nodded my head in agreeance. That’s the kind of attitude I like to see! This little heretic has been nothing but helpful since I met her. Wait a moment… My name… By Sol, have my brains become addled?! Why did I give the College my real name?! I suddenly fell to a crouching position as I held my head between my hands. Well… I couldn’t have done otherwise, thinking back; that blue woman was using some kind of magic to root out lies after all.

I hadn’t thought of it before, but the heroes and co could have given these heretics my name! The records of inspectors are tightly under lock and key in the kingdom of Sol, and very few would be willing to speak of one lest suffer the consequences, but the heroes could have spoken of me.

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No, wait, they haven’t made a move against me. They probably haven’t spoken about me, otherwise my idiocy would have been my undoing by now. I looked at the princess and returned to my feet. My actions had left her speechless, and somewhat concerned. Not for me, but likely that I’d decline her request. The heroes may not have spoken about me, but they know my name.

“I’m humbled by your determination to meet my request, Grace. In truth I’d rather you don’t go mentioning me, though.” I said. Grace pursed her lips, looking at me thoughtfully. Damn it, just do as I ask and don’t question it!

“Ok, I won’t mention you. I don’t really get why, but since you’re agreeing to teach me, I don’t mind.” She agreed, her voice full of high hopes.

And just like that, the princess skipped out of my classroom, gleefully.

I, in contrast to that excited fellow, felt weary. I sat down at my desk and massaged my temples as I ignored my petite companion who deemed it necessary to once again perch herself on my knee, whilst viciously jabbing me in the side. For whatever reason, she wasn’t pleased. I reached over and began to trace the scars on her body on top of the sheet she still wore, my memory substituting for the lack of vision.

She stopped her assault, and sat there calmly. I tried to relax as I caressed the scars and stitches. This entire endeavour has been unbearably draining. I can’t even blow off some steam with a good old-fashioned burning. I lightly whistled a tune as I sat there, trying to just get away from the world, for even just a brief moment.

I felt uncomfortable, my skin crawling as my free hand very faintly tremored.  Really need to burn something. I can’t take much more of the secrecy. I want to make it a display. I almost felt like crying out of frustration. The previously still companion of mine seemed to pick up on my discomfort, shifting over and sitting cross-legged in my lap as she looked at me with those now familiar grey eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice as faint as a light breeze. After giving her, her voice back, she’d gradually improved her speech, and more importantly her ability to put emotions into her words. At this moment I could hear concern.

“I need to burn something.” I replied, my voice faint. I chewed on my lip till blood began to trickle down to my chin. If it wasn’t for this uneasiness being the need to commit the just act of sending heretics to Sol, I would probably have thought there’s something wrong with me. I feel so… wrong when I don’t fulfil my duties. Is it Sol? Is he really there, urging me to go out and do this? I never really went so long without fulfilling this intense desire.

“What do you want to burn?” asked that faint voice once more.

“Heretics” I answered without a second thought. I distract myself with words and ideas. I keep my mind busy, but there’s always room for that longing… never leaving me alone… never giving me a moment of respite. I continued to whistle. It was a sad, slow tune. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before. The longer I let this situation continue, the more peculiar I get. My thoughts don’t feel like my own.

What will happen to Cyne, if I can’t do what’s necessary? Sol’s existence never seemed to matter to me before… But now that I lack the euphoria that comes with smell of charred human flesh, and agonising screams… I feel like it might matter, that I might need him to exist.

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Silk POV

Cyne’s sad. He’s never been sad before. Did that girl who stayed behind make him sad? I don’t like that. She’s bad for him.

He was silent on the way back. Not just silent on the outside but on the inside too. He still smiles but it doesn’t have any emotion.

Even Serenity looks concerned. Cyne seems strange. When I asked him what he wanted, he said that he wanted to burn heretics.

Heretics? Like me? I was a heretic, I think? Does he want to burn me? He can if he wants. I’m used to it. He’s always soft and gentle with me. I want to be soft and gentle with him.

Night time has come. I’m in bed next to him again. In his warm embrace. It’s become my happy place, being near him. But, he doesn’t touch me like before… I want this to stay my happy place.

I could feel my lips tremble as I traced the smile on his sleeping face. He seems lost. He seems sad. It makes me sad. Tears started to form in my eyes. He needs to turn back to normal.

I have to do it. Cyne needs me, like I need him. I pushed at his chest. Wake up! He keeps sleeping. I begin to pinch his cheeks as hard as I can.

Cyne leaps up, eyes open wide as he begins to rub his cheeks. I hurt him. I feel bad. He looks over at me with those eyes. Those warm brown eyes. I want him to need me.

“Cyne” I whispered.

“Yes?” he asked, still looking tired.

“You want to burn a heretic?” I asked.

“Yes, I do.” He mumbled, his eyes glazing over.

“I was a heretic…” I said. He looks at me with confusion. I bit my lip before continuing.

“I was never punished” I said. I need to help him.

“I won’t feel better until I’ve paid for my sins…” I continued. His eyes were gaining their light.

I reached over for the little, sharp knife he keeps on the bedside table, and lit a candle nearby. I reached over and grabbed his hand.

One by one I uncurl his fingers, as he looks at me blankly. I put the knife in his hands, and make him hold it over the candle. His eyes have changed now. He looks happy. That makes me happy.

I sat still. Looking at his face in the flickering candlelight. He looks better. I’m helping him. That thought made me shiver with pleasure. I’m helping him, like he helped me. Like he still helps me.

Minutes pass and now the blade is glowing. He looks lost. He looks uncertain. I want to help him more. I grabbed his hand with the blade, and brought it to my bare skin on my forearm.

I look at the scars. At the silver wire stitches. I don’t like these marks. I looked up and into Cyne’s eyes, which increasingly grew with clarity. I want marks from him. I want them to prove he’s real. I want them to help him get better.

I pushed the flat of the blade against my skin.

I let out a gasp as the pain ran up along my arm. It hurts. It hurts. I don’t like it. But, I want a mark from him. I look at Cyne, my hand trembling as I hold his, keeping the blade sizzling against my skin.

He looks happy, and so, I am happy. He looks like the old Cyne now. His smile looks real. His eyes look real. He looks real. The pain was still there, but Cyne is making it happen. As I think this, it doesn’t feel so bad anymore. It’s like he needs me now. I feel that strange pleasure again.

The blade had rested long enough. I pulled it away, tearing burnt flesh away with it. An angry red burn appeared on my skin. I traced my finger around it. This was Cyne. I liked it… It looks better than the others.

I continued to help Cyne throughout the night. He wouldn’t do it himself. That made me happy. He cares about me. I guided his hand and burned myself countless times, covering old marks with new.

The pain eventually stopped and I only felt pleasure each time we made a new mark. He cares about me. And now he needs me. I feel strange. I feel hot.

I look at Cyne. He looks back. He is Cyne again. I looked at his smile. I smiled. He was getting closer. His smile was getting closer. Our smiles touched. I feel happy. No, I feel strange. No, I feel hot.

I wrapped my burn covered arms around his neck. I want him closer. I want our smiles to continue touching. I feel hot, very hot. Too hot.

His tongue. It’s touching my smile. I want him closer. I opened my smile and it entered me. We’re close. So close. The pleasure kept increasing. My stomach feels weird and the place between my legs feels tingly.

His tongue explored my mouth. The pleasure and tingly feeling got stronger. Stronger. Stronger. Stronger. Then it peaked. My body arched. There was no pain. Only pleasure. I can’t think properly.

Everything’s going dark. I think I’m going to sleep… It feels strange. I’m reluctant. I think something even more wonderful could have happened if I just stayed awake a little longer…

He needs me now.