The Battlefield
1018 Words
By midday, I was beginning to understand why students called the central courtyard “The Battlefield.”
Everyone gathered here between classes. And everyone watched everyone else.
The perfect stage for humiliation if someone wanted to orchestrate it.
I walked across the flower-lined courtyard, hugging my book to my chest. The air smelled of pine, the breeze carrying with it laughter and murmurs.
I just needed to get to the Comparative Species Evolution Practicum without any incident.
Apparently, I was too optimistic.
Liriel spotted me.
She stood beneath the archway, adorned with climbing autumn roses, surrounded by her followers. They were perfectly arranged like petals around a flower bud.
“There she is,” Liriel said softly, though her voice travelled far enough for her circle to hear. “Arwenna, come join us.”
Her tone was friendly and inviting.
There was no point in avoiding her. So, I approached.
Her two minions stepped aside to make room for me.
“We were just talking about mates,” the brunette smiled. “So, we ended up mentioning you and how you are so lucky to have a mate and a husband.”
My stomach twisted.
They didn’t know who Kaelith was. At least that was what Kaelith told me when I had asked him.
“I’m married to my mate,” I corrected.
All three of them shared a knowing look.
Liriel smiled. “You don’t have a wolf. That’s not the same as having a mate.”
The blonde-haired girl giggled. “You never know. Maybe he married her out of duty. Or pity.”
They seem to be implying that I stole someone’s mate.
Liriel gasped, placing a gentle hand over her chest. “Girls, please. That’s too harsh.”
This is the same statement again.
I rolled my eyes.
Weren’t they tired of playing the same game over and over again?
Then she glanced at me with sympathy.
“But... they do have a point.”
The courtyard noise faded around me.
“My marriage is none of your business,” I said, my voice steady. It came out a bit harsher than I intended, though.
Liriel tilted her head, softening. “I only worry about you. Being wolfless... male werewolves treat that like a burden. And if he’s powerful...” she trailed off meaningfully, “the difference in status will only be more apparent.”
The two sycophants nodded.
“Especially if she suddenly shows strange abilities,” the brunette added. “Men hate surprises.”
“Not to mention, it’s giving cursed.” The blonde chimed.
A couple of students snickered around me.
Heat flared under my skin.
It wasn’t embarrassment, but something else. It felt like I could fracture the stone beneath me with one misplaced thought.
I tilted my head slightly “Oh..tell me. What do you know about curses?”
The whole courtyard seemed to inhale.
Liriel’s smile visibly faltered.
She gripped my hand a little too firmly. Her voice was shaky. “Arwenna,” she said quickly, her voice pitching low, “don’t make this bigger than it is.”
“You already did,” I replied.
Because everyone here knew what that word meant. Or more importantly, what it costs.
Curses weren’t just another dark fairy tale. They were forbidden.
It was the kind of knowledge the academy pretended didn’t exist while locking up an entire wing of the library behind blood-warded doors.
Elyandra taught magic as a theory.
They taught us magic theory from the first year: True magic was a relic of the past. An extinct art. Some powerful civilisations once wielded it before they destroyed themselves with it.
What we studied now were remnants from that civilisation. Excavated parchments, fragmented runes, matrices, and stone tablets that were dug out from ancient ruins.
Dead knowledge. And safe knowledge.
Runes, in modern Elaris, were tools for enhancements.
Basically, you etched a strengthening rune into glass, and it wouldn’t shatter.
You inscribed a levitation array onto objects, and they floated above the ground.
You traced preservation glyphs on food containers, and the food lasted longer than it should.
Nothing alive was ever touched.
Nothing binding.
They were used only to aid industrialisation.
That distinction mattered.
Because buried in those same parchments were other things.
Runes that didn’t enhance.
Runes that altered minds.
Runes that attached themselves to living beings.
Curses.
No one admitted to knowing them. Anyone caught even researching curse theory didn’t get expelled.
That was too simple.
They got tried by the Council of Twelve panel.
The recent unrest in Elaris had only made it worse. Packs were turning rogue without warning.
Alphas were losing control of their wolves without any signs of poison or external attack.
Just chaos.
Officials said that there was no evidence of foul play. But everyone knew what they were whispering behind closed doors.
Curses.
Which made what Liriel had just allowed her friends to imply dangerously close to treason.
I felt eyes on me. Measuring.
Liriel laughed out loud. “She didn’t mean it like that. You know how rumours spiral.”
Her fingers were still wrapped around my hand.
I let her hold on.
Because if she was nervous, it meant I’d hit something real.
I felt oddly satisfied.
I smiled faintly. “Rumours only spiral when someone starts them.”
The blonde swallowed.
The redhead glanced around, suddenly aware of how many students were within earshot.
Liriel released my hand as if it burned.
“Come on,” she said quickly. “You’re overthinking it.”
Maybe.
Or maybe she’d just realised how dangerously close she’d come to crossing a forbidden line.
The bell rang.
Students scattered. But gave us looks as they walked away.
Something had shifted.
“I have another class, bye.” She breezed out, leaving this sentence behind her as her minions scurried after her.
And for the first time since I’d woken up in this strange world, I understood something with absolute clarity.
This wasn’t just about her humiliating me.
This was about fear.
And fear always pointed to something real.
Towards me.
- Writer
