“Control your magic, you damned fool before you kill us all!” Mr Wongul roared.

Mul’s magical emissions – which had been bouncing unchecked from one corner of the room to another – finally came to rest upon a load-bearing keystone holding the ceiling in place.

Mul’s nameless side-kick creature, a four legged fluff-ball, looked on in detached bemusement.

“Oh Heavens! Of all the places! You’ll bring the building down on our heads you wretched simpleton!” Mr Mongul cried.

Mul readjusted his mystical-focus and the unwieldy beam of magical light-fire began to yield to his mental command. He was temporarily able to direct it away from the vaulted ceiling and down towards the magically absorbent target he’d originally been aiming for. But the recalcitrant magical energy had other designs, and was already beginning to resist him. Just as quickly as he’d gained some skerrick of control, the magic was off the chain once more. Mul completely missed the magical target. The light-fire found a new target, a three thousand year-old lectern, once used by Professor Quizerous Faldego to rally the magical armies of the Guerra-Majora in the Battle of the Three Valleys.

The lectern burst into flames which burned so hot that the wood, from which it was constructed, melted into the stone plinth which held it.

“Why am I always punished with incompetence?” Mr Wongul the magical tutor stammered as he made for the door.

“Wongul’s students are the runts of the litter! Wongul is too old to mentor the gifted! Wongul is a washed up has-been - he can manage the hopeless of the world. What now ha? Should Wongul train cats to do the trapeze…Monkeys to write the world’s greatest novel? CLASS DISMISSED.” he yelled already fading off his shrill voice ringing down the corridors.

To prove Mr Wongul’s point, a priceless Ganushian tapestry, set alight by his magical misfire, exploded into a rain of ancient ash.

“What class?” Mul wondered out loud, as he looked about the room.

There were no other students there. He had been made to stay back that day at Wongul’s ‘request’. In a class of thirty students, only he - Mulberry Gnat - had failed, over and over again, in front of every one of his class-mates, to hit the damned target.

“There’s no one here but you and me mate,” he said directing this comment at his magical side-kick; his Match.

Mul centered his thoughts as best he could, and the stream of fiery magical stuff still pouring out of his palms finally stopped streaming. His little, and as yet unnamed, Match did a quick extinguishing spell, and with a puff of cold air, the spot fires around the room were snuffed out.

His Match looked up at him, in that way that only Matches can. It was an interrogative look, combining syrupy sweetness, casual disinterest and abject confusion.

“Come on you,” Mul said, motioning to the door. “We better get going before they charge me for the damage. I’m starving from all this magic-type exertion,” he continued. “Let’s eat.”

…

“Ham and Cheese Sandwich thanks,” Mul said, ordering the only edible-looking thing in the largely empty cabinet.

“And for your Match?” The server asked pointing at his magical side-kick.

“Just whatever’s cheap,” Mul responded fingering his last remaining coins.

The server grabbed a sodden, stale, raspberry flan from a pile due to be discarded, and handed it to Mul.

“He needs Match-food young man. This will upset his stomach.”

“That’s my next investment…I promise.”

Mul took the sandwich and the flan on a single plate, and found a place at the end of a communal table next to a few seniors. It was the only seat left in the hall. He couldn’t identify most of the boys on the table, but that wasn’t surprising considering he didn’t really know that many people at this school yet. He’d only arrived a month ago.

He did, however, recognise Barmudgeon Calper. Everyone knew Barmudgeon, or Bam-Bam as he was better known. Bam-Bam turned to face Mul who at the same time was trying his best to blend into the background.

“Yo new kid.” Bam-Bam called, flashing a furtive smile to his buddies. “If you want to sit here, you’ll have to pay the subscription fee.”

Mul paused, aware that he was being bullied, but not sure how to play the moment.

“I don’t have any money,” Mul offered feebly.

“Yeah,” said one of the other seniors, “we can see that.”

In fact Mul had three silver buttons. Enough to buy him a cheap dinner from the takeaway in MikriMag, the small town at the bottom of the hill, South of the school. He’d have to wait a few days for a top-up from his measly scholarship fund.

The boys laughed and turned away from him, but not before Bam-Bam threw a steamed bun at his head. It was a perfectly timed delivery, befitting the ultimate Po-ch-ke player of their school’s history.

The bun bounced off Mul’s face, glanced off his plate, ricocheted off an overhead lamp, and landed into his Match’s’ mouth. The Match swallowed it without chewing.

With the bulk of that uncomfortable interaction concluded, Mul and his Match nibbled at their food in silence. His Match looked at him with that magical side-kick look again: but with some additional pity too this time. They finished up their small meals, and left the mess hungry and unsatisfied.

They made their slow way back to Mul’s dormitory.

Mul kept his head down the whole way, examining the floor; his cheap loafers; and the purple legs of his aggressive school robes. Anything not to look at the faces of the students he walked past. Mul didn’t want or need another embarrassing encounter with anyone - especially not the seniors who already had it out for him for whatever reason. The pair crossed a small courtyard swiftly, through a marble-tiled area, and under an enormous portico into the Junior-boy’s Dormitory. They climbed several flights of stairs to the fifth level, and after a good twenty minutes of getting lost, reached the dorm-room he shared with Drinton Capland.

To Mul’s dismay a magical cape was hanging from the door handle.

“He’s got his girlfriend in there again,” he said dejectedly.

“So much for studying tonight little guy. Library it is. Ms Togami will be happy to see us.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

His Match showed no indication of understanding.

Mul knew not to knock on the door when Drinton was ‘busy’. He knew to “get lost and don’t come back you povo-loser.” His room mate-slash-worst-enemy Drinton barely tolerated Mul’s presence as it was. He didn’t need to give him more reason to make his life a living hell. It wouldn’t be the first time this month he’d ended up sleeping on a bench in the library, under an old knitted blanket, given to him by Ms Togami.

“Let’s go…you,” he said to the side-kick, and the two walked out of the dorm, back across the tiled area courtyard between the Dorm and the services hall, and across the massive quadrangle. The ancient library loomed, casting its inordinately heavy shadow across the space. In the month since his arrival, the Library, and its friendly Librarian Ms Togami, were his only comfort. They were a small space he could inhabit for from judgement, bullies and autocratic teachers. For a moment he missed his Aunt Simaino.

“Hi Ms,” he called to the Librarian Ms Togami as he entered the vestibule.

She beamed, coming from behind the counter to give him a small hug.

“Here,” she said, handing him a small text-book entitled “Governing your inner magic.”

“Does everyone know already?”

“Mr Wongul talks loudly, even if it’s just to himself. He’s been having a bit of a melt-down in the teacher’s lounge.”

She gave a conciliatory smile and got back to the work of checking volumes back into the register. She looked up at him after a moment, motioning him to go and find a place to live.

Mul and his Match climbed up to the second floor and took their place at their normal table, overlooking the great atrium. From his vantage, he could see out, across the quad, and over almost all of the school’s campus, through a towering stained-glass window. His Match was tired from a day of watching and it curled up into a small ball, falling immediately asleep.

What a marvellous school, he thought, as he gazed outside across the quad at the ancient institution. It was almost seven thousand years old. Shame about the mean students and the terrifying teachers. He opened the book, turned to the first chapter “Marshalling the Disordered Mind” and began to read the impenetrable tome.

…

Around an hour later, and quite by surprise a set of cold fingers found themselves across Mul’s eyes. He stiffened in fear - this could not be a good thing, he thought, as he waited, suddenly unable to move a muscle in his cowardly little body.

“Guess who,” came a small voice from behind.

He did not recognise the voice but he was relieved to find that it didn’t sound like Bam-Bam or his mates. It was a more feminine voice.

“Umm…who is it?” He responded, relaxing slightly.

“It’s me silly,” the voice countered.

The owner of the voice removed their cold, clammy fingers from Mul’s face allowing Mul finally to turn and see the owner of the soft voice. It was a thin person, with a kind of mini-lizard perched on its shoulder.

“Oh,” Mul said. “I’m sorry I don’t think we’ve met. I’m new here.”

“We have like three classes together Mul.”

Mul shrugged.

“You’re Mulberry Gnat. I guess you’re always sort of looking down at the desk or avoiding eye-contact. It’s kind of mysterious…or arrogant. I can’t decide,” the person said.

“Arrogant!” imitated the little lizard.

“This is Dibs,” the person said pointing at its Match. “He sometimes repeats things for comic effect. And what’s your Match called?” The person asked.

“I haven’t named my Match yet. I’m calling him ‘hey’ and ‘you’ until I can think of something meaningful. I read somewhere you shouldn’t name a Match until you are sure it’s right.”

“It’s a tough decision. It’s kinda important I guess so I hope you find something soon.”

Mul shrugged again.

“I should introduce myself, since you weren’t paying attention in class and you haven’t asked me yet. I’m Milk Laplander. It’s cool if you can’t tell if I’m a boy or a girl,” Milk paused. “I’m sort giving feminine energy right now. But sometimes my mind tells me otherwise. So yeah,” she said bowing strangely.

“Cool. Well I’m Mulberry Gnat…which you seem to know already. And based on my interactions with people at this school so far, I think I may be a loser,” he said, hoping for a laugh.

Milk started laughing, and continued laughing. Her chortle was so excessive that her Match, Dib, almost fell from her shoulder. It repositioned itself closer to Milk’s neck and latched on.

“Well…” she said, still giggling and offering up her cold hand for Mul to shake, “…I’m a complete loser too. So if you don’t mind, I think we will get along famously.”

It was at that moment, as the two of them shook hands and fulfilled the prophecy of mate-ship, that the ground began to shake with a worrying ferocity. They turned to take in what was happening across the quadrangle, near the Junior Dorm Mul had just visited, where Drinton was probably French kissing some Senior girl.

“Goddess Dianmu,” Milk exclaimed. “What the heck is that?”

A huge cloud-like mass brimming with supernatural anger loomed over the Junior Dorm. It was the colour of an eggplant, and the consistency of cotton-candy. It was hard to tell from where they sat, but the mass was at least the size of a large town, and it spilled with a viscous, blood-coloured rain which painted the scene before them a horrible crimson.

“Is that a cloud?” Milk asked knowing it was not.

“That’s no cloud.”

Without warning bolt of lightning, followed by ear-rupturing thunder, smashed with terrible force into and somehow through the Junior Dorm, cleaving it in half like a blade through pig-flesh.

“Dian-Mu forgive us! There are students in there.”

Milk’s face was white with terror.

Mul and Milk’s Matches were startled awake by the sudden explosion of sound, and began to bark and whine and howl in the heightened tension.

“What do we…?” Mul started to say.

“What can anyone do against that?” Milk retorted more to herself than Mul.

“What sort of lightning slices through a building like that?”

Just as Mul was starting to get worked up, and Milk was beginning to look faint, one half of the Dorm building that had been struck, collapsed into a heap. This only made things worse.

That’s when the screaming began.

Outside - beyond the thick glass of the library windows, students were running every which way, covered in blood-rain. The children outside tried to get into the dorms at the same time as those within the buildings tried to get away from them, lest they be crushed too. After a moment or two, all of them began to make for the Great Hall.

Milk grabbed Mul by the hand, and they both made for the Great Hall too, to see if they could render some sort of assistance. Little did they know, they would have run directly into a quick death had it not been for the librarian, Ms Togami, who headed them off at the front entrance to the Library.

“Stop,” she squeaked, covering her mouth lest she attract the attention of the monster.

“You can’t just run out there!” She whispered.

“You would be running into the jaws of the Harbinger! That’s who that is,” she said pointing; fresh horror in her eyes.

The three stood at the Library’s grand entry looking out across the grounds.

As they did, a student, a Junior by the name of Kendall Arbitrage, who had managed to live through the collapse of the Junior Dorm, crawled out from under the rubble.

There was no one left outside to help him. He was alone.

“It’s a miracle,” Mul said in a low voice.

Kendall thought it had been an Earthquake and did not know that the Harbinger had picked him, as his very first victim. The first to be turned to the Service of She.

“It’s above you…!” Milk tried to yell. But Ms Togami wrapped her fingers around Milk’s mouth so that she could barely breath.

All of a sudden, something unholy shot out of the lowest part of the awful cloud. The Harbinger’s appendage hooked around the Kendall’s chest. It pulled the boy’s body up into its bowels with such force, the sound of his back breaking echoes through the hills. Everyone who could see what was happening, watched in silent terror, as flashes of obscured light emanated from the areas into which the body had been taken.

“Oh no,” Ms Togami moaned. “Oh…no. It starts again.”

The Harbinger devoured Kendall’s soul.

It dropped the soulless husk of the boy from it’s stomach, which feel a hundred meters, slamming into the soft grass with a distant thud.

“Run children. RUN!”

“Run!” Screamed Dibs imitated - not for comic effect.