- Whisperpeak Academy for Wayward Dragons - Ch.14 P.1 - Dying Tears -

Instructions

Chapter 14: A Small Step to Redemption It was already startlingly late by the time we were done with dinner, so I didn't even bother trying to say good night to Oliver and Iris. The Resistance trio had their own thing going on, and I wasn't going to interfere with that. I ended up on my own when I was supposed to be surrounded by support, again, just like when I was little with Oceane. "I'll bring you to Whisperpeak my way." Hmpth. I found an empty guest room not crawling with romance and trauma and shrank into the wonderfully average bed. The Resistance seemed very prepared for last-minute visitors- perhaps this had happened before. I ignored how cold the bed was. How it was growing colder and colder, without the AC even budging. "Calm down, Anxiety," Alex's breezy voice swayed in my head but it didn't help. I stared at the ceiling and watched as my ice powers spread onto the walls, frosting everything into a delicate marbled film. Please don't let anyone feel this, I thought as I dug my fingers into the sheets of ice that used to be my meager bedding. It had never gotten this bad. Except when I was a kid. I'd always focused on something and forgot to maintain this scary stream of magic, but now it was uninterrupted. The only thing I could look at was the frozen room and walls around me. I felt a scream heave in my throat like a ragged wave, and barely managed it down. Ashes. Lusterless and indistinct, they fluttered from the ice growing on the ceiling. The ice started to chip, and, like some sick origami, transformed into figments of snow and ash. Like one hideous lullaby, they swooped and tumbled and mingled, salt and pepper spraying the air in a cloud. So. Cold. The mist thickened, familiar and terrifying. The ice looked like a billion mirroring crystals now, like I was in some giant paradox, trapped inside a cracked glass jar- a urn. And then a closet. Despite learning in a stuffy storage space, I was just as studious as anyone else. My eyes flew hungrily over pages of history, darkened into invisibility, only revealed by a careful slit of light. It felt mysterious, the roughness of the paper, the authenticity of it. The printed ink words and long, thorough pages had a finality I was jealous of. I remember one of the multiple lessons premade about Oceane discussed a much less buoyant matter- what would happen if she died. It explained the process: gingerly store the goddess's ashes into a precious crystal urn dug up from the bottom of the sea. Then throw it into a vicious storm and select the best followers of Oceane to create a whirlwind of forces to see her off. I appeared to be sitting in that urn. All it took was a slight bend in focus, however, and the both magnificent and appalling hallucination flickered away. Faint laughing trailed into my ears as I roused from a still slumber. I twisted my head tiredly towards the single window beside my bed. Shades sliced up the image of outside, their purpose mundane with the lack of natural light. Meandering to the window, I peered outside. As if completely planned, the bioluminescent plants flicked on and spotted the bland morning in an exotic blue glow. With that, everything else seemed to come alive too. I couldn't stifle the shiver of restlessness that formed deep in my belly as people and the rustling of boots and machines filled the cold world. I was so busy staring out at the enclosed factory that I didn't realize everyone was waiting for me. I quickly changed into one of the spare outfits I had teleported into my bag back at Alex's apartment. My blue polyester jacket and pants hugged me securely and my loose graphic tee made me feel a tad more at home. I wore my single pair of Air Jordans as well, not too scared of scuffing, and they were a vibrant red that popped and matched the graphic on my shirt. Along with some fuzzy socks concealed in the tall shoe, I felt two percent warmer. I left my boots close by, though, just in case. It always helps to maintain a drop of style under such circumstances, right? The laughing turned to clear and lighthearted chatter, and after brushing up in the minimal bathroom ( groundwater was barely a surplus), I went out to greet everyone. My anxiety was relieved when I realized everyone had dressed similarly to me. Oliver had on a gray, nearly olive-green hoodie, with a black V-neck beneath and simple blue jeans engraved with a single leaf. The blue tone was a little brighter than usual, so the leaf embroidery was probably a blessing. He must've bought it during the multiple times he'd visited Hylomian villages. His shoes were brown boots that matched him perfectly. I guess everyone was feeling tall shoes- warmth and security. You never know when some knife is gonna come out of the wall and butcher your foot off. I was surprised to see Iris still in the striped pajamas from the guest rooms. She looked like a walking blanket,(+)