THE DUAL MARKED

Reckless Pranks

LYRIANA

My chest tightened. I’d heard the whispers before. That the reason Corin Larell had been homeschooled all his life wasn’t out of privilege, but necessity. His magic was too strong, too volatile, and too dangerous to unleash around others until he’d been trained. People said the fire in his eyes could burn down half a hall if he lost his focus. And for the first time, I didn’t doubt it as I watched him.

“Enough,” Corin said, his voice low but cutting through the silence. “Let that end now.” The words cracked through the air like a strike of thunder. The hall stilled and even Serenya’s smug mask faltered, but Kaelen didn’t stay quiet. He leaned forward slowly, his elbows resting against the table, his dark eyes glinting with cruel delight. His voice carried across the hall like he owned it.

“Or else what?” he drawled. “You’ll burn the place down with your miserable blue fire?” A laugh rumbled from him, sharp and mocking. “Go on then. I would love to see what’s so special about that cursed trick of yours. So special they had to hide you away for years and homeschooled you like a fragile little secret. And now here you are, strutting in as if you belong. You don’t.”

A shiver rippled through the dining hall and for a moment, I wondered if Kaelen had forgotten what was even happening, because the venom in his words went beyond Serenya’s little spell. This wasn’t about me anymore. This was hate that had been waiting for a chance to crawl free.

Corin’s jaw clenched. His fists tightened against the table. His fire glowed hotter and brighter, the blue threatening to flare. The air grew heavy with heat and sharpness pressing against my chest.

I reached out quickly, pressing my palm against Corin’s. “Don’t,” I whispered.

The touch steadied him, but it only made Kaelen’s rage ignite further. His glare darkened, his jaw tightened, and suddenly it wasn’t just Corin’s power bleeding into the room. Kaelen’s essence surged, sharp and suffocating, ripping through the air with its weight.

The dining hall grew stifling with magic pressing down like a storm cloud. Students shifted nervously with their eyes wide. The scrape of chairs echoed as a few slid back, ready to run if it came to blows. It would have, but thankfully the doors slammed open.

“Enough!” The patron’s voice cracked like a whip. He strode in, his robes sweeping the floor. His sharp eyes took in the scene in a single glance and instantly, the suffocating air shrank back like smoke snuffed by wind. “What,” his voice boomed, “is the meaning of this? Why is the air thick with reckless magic? Who dares break the Academy’s rule of no unnecessary essence?”

The hall froze. No one spoke. Not even a whisper or a breath. Every student’s eyes darted down, terrified of the wrath that would come from answering. But the patron wasn’t a fool. He didn’t need confessions to know. His eyes narrowed, and his voice cut like a blade.

“Corin Thalos. Prince Kaelen Velcrest. Both of you to my office. Now.”

The two boys rose slowly and stiffly with power still simmering off them in waves as they followed the Patron out. Serenya, for all her smug meddling, wasn’t called out because her touch of magic was too slight, and cleverly hidden.

The doors closed behind them, and the silence in the dining hall cracked back into noise. Whispers rushed through the room. Some voices were giddy, others nervous, but all of them were feeding on what they’d just witnessed.

At our table, nothing was exciting. Thessalia stabbed her fork into her bread roll, glaring toward Serenya’s bubbling face across the hall. Anger rolled off her in visible waves. “I wonder why that demoness stayed back,” she muttered darkly. “She should’ve gone instead of Corin.”

I exhaled slowly. My shoulders sagged as my appetite went away. My gaze stayed fixed on my not-really-touched plate as I whispered back, “I know, right.”

Thessalia huffed, shaking her head. “Gosh, I hate this day.”

“Miserably awful,” I added, lifting my gaze to her as if backing her up in court. “And for the first day of the year I thought would finally be good, it’s already gone dangerously wrong.”

~Next morning~

“Ugh…, fuck.” The word slipped out before I could stop it as I cracked my eyes open against the brightness pouring through the curtains. Is it morning already? I shot upright, my heart skipping a beat. Was I going to be late again?

My body moved by instinct as I did everything hurried and clumsy, stretching my arms and legs too fast, almost tripping over the blanket as I kicked it aside. My bones groaned from lack of rest, and a dull throb still lingered in my skull from yesterday’s humiliating fall. Perfect. One day into the new school year and I was already falling apart.

I pressed my palm to my forehead, wincing at the tender spot where it still felt bruised. There was no fever, just pain. With a groan, I stumbled off the bed, reaching for my brush to at least tame my hair before throwing myself together. And that was when I saw my uniform. Still hung exactly where I’d left it last night, on the wardrobe door, but it wasn’t the same anymore. The fabric had shrunken, the sleeves bunched short, and the neat press replaced with warped, uneven folds. It was wrinkled and stiff, like someone had boiled it in scalding water.

My stomach twisted. Not again.

I grabbed it, shaking it out, as if the creases would magically fall back into place, but they didn’t. I had no choice but to rush it over to the iron and press it myself, praying the clock wouldn’t scream at me. My boots were next, soaked through, squishing when I touched them. My books, too, the pages were damp and curling. Everything screamed Serenya. Of course. Who else? She must have done this because of yesterday’s incident.

I gritted my teeth and worked fast, propping the books against the small dormitory fireplace to dry, wringing out the boots as best as I could. They were ruined, but at least wearable. My uniform could barely pass when I tried it on.

Finally dressed, I made for the door, but the moment I slipped my feet into my boots, I froze, literally. I couldn’t move. I looked down and cursed under my breath. A sticking spell. My boots were glued to the stone floor, my body locked in place. Of course, she hadn’t finished with me yet.

Panic flared in my chest. Everyone else was already gone, Thessalia included, since Serenya had pulled strings to get my dorm moved away from hers this year. I’d only learned of it last night, after hours of confusion and frustration. This was indeed another little victory for her and another way to make sure I suffered alone.

I tugged, and I pulled until my legs were sore, but nothing was moved. By the time the matron found me, almost toppling in her surprise, I was already red-faced with rage. She muttered a few words, whether pity or curse, I couldn’t tell, and at that moment, I didn’t care to know. With a flick of her hand, the spell shattered in a single effortless motion, something I could never dream of claiming as my own experience.

I barely choked out a thank you to her before running out of the stormy door with my half-dried books in my hand and my damp boots slapping against the stone floor.

Breakfast was already over but my stomach wasn’t understanding the situation as it turned against me as I hurried to the assembly hall, late, scruffy, and with dread of what the day would bring.

By the time I got to the tall spires of the assembly hall, my lungs were burning, and my legs were screaming. My boots were making this awful and embarrassing sound with each step, the wet leather cutting into my heels. My books, which were still hardly dry, were pressed into my arms as I held them close, fearing that one of them might slip from my clutches and land in the courtyard.

The bell was already tolling.

I pushed harder, weaving past the last stragglers as heavy oak doors loomed ahead. I had no breath left when I finally burst into the assembly hall.

A deafening silence and hundreds of eyes honored my entrance. I froze mid-run, one foot awkwardly half-lifted off the ground, my hair clinging damply to my cheeks, and the uniform sticking uncomfortably against my skin. The wrinkled fabric was obvious, and the slightly uneven sleeves were just impossible to hide. I tried anyway, straightening the hem with my trembling fingers, as if that would erase the mess Serenya had made of me. My chest rose and fell rapidly, every breath ragged and loud in the stillness. Heat rushed up my neck as whispers began to rise from the crowd.

“Late again?”

“She looks like she rolled out of bed.”

“Did she even comb her hair?”

I swallowed hard, trying to make myself invisible.

The Patron’s voice boomed from the stage. “Miss Lyriana Velcrest.”

My heart stuttered. Hell, no! Not the Patron, please… I could deal with the others, but him? No, no, no!

He gestured me forward to the podium. Shame prickled hot down my spine as I forced my legs to move gently, but each step echoed loudly in the cavernous hall. I kept my gaze fixed on the polished floorboards, wishing they would open and swallow me whole. And then suddenly I felt pain. It was like an invisible force snapped at my ankles. My balance gave way, and before I could catch myself, I hit the floor with a sickening c***k. Gasps echoed through the hall, followed by laughter that cut through me sharper than blades could. My nose stung, then gushed. Warm blood spilled fast, sliding down my lips and dripping onto the stage floor.

“Riana!” Thessalia’s voice pierced the noise, full of alarm. She was on her feet already rushing toward me, while Corin shoved past others without hesitation. His face was thunderous, like he could destroy whatever stood in his path. When my eyes landed on Serenya who was sitting pretty in her row, her lips were curled with satisfaction and in her fingertips, danced a faint shimmer of magic.

I pressed my hand to my face, but it was useless as blood kept coming out. My books had scattered across the stage and because of the blood, the pages were splotched red.

The Patron’s voice cracked through the chaos, with a whip of authority. “Silence!”

The hall fell into an uneasy quiet. Students shifted, ashamed or maybe just disappointed that the entertainment was over. My vision blurred as dizziness hit me, but I felt Thessalia’s arm steadying me, and also Corin’s steady presence like a shield beside me.

The Patron’s gaze swept the hall, sharp and knowing, though he said nothing of Serenya’s smirk. He only ordered, “Get her to the infirmary. Now.”

As they led me out, the laughter still echoed in my ears, twisting in my gut. This was another horrible moment that I had survived, but funny enough, it felt like only the beginning.