Vagabond (DISCONTINUED)

When Ximena’s fist connected with her cheek, Esadora thought, Well, maybe she’s just having a bad day.

But when she proceeded to shout, “Constriction!” and aim the stick in her hand at her fallen body, she knew this girl wanted to fight. Ignoring the stinging pain in her cheek, Esadora glared at the stick in Ximena’s hand, and it flung itself at the wall.

Esadora smirked as the tightness in her body went away, jumping to her feet. Ximena lunged for the stick, but it shot down the stairs and far, far away as Esadora made her way toward her. She laughed when Ximena dashed down the hallway.

“Where are you going, Ximena? You started this fight, and you’re just going to run like that? Coward.”

On the last word, Ximena slowed, then came to a complete stop at the end of the hall, turning to face Esadora. She raised her arm toward her, palm out. “Coward, really? Then would I do this—!” Yellow light burst from her hand, rushing at Esadora. There was no control or strategy behind the attack—it was just Ximena letting her pure magic go crazy, a sign that she was getting desperate.

Esadora rolled her eyes and flicked her hand in a dismissive wave, sending the magic away from her, then she raised her left hand, and let her own magic go wild. It erupted from her palm in silvery lavender light, taking up the whole hallway and bouncing across the walls toward Ximena. Through the chaos, Esadora could make out Ximena’s stumbling figure and sent a weak constriction spell at her, forcing her to face the disaster that would come upon her.

With just a twitch of her fingers, Esadora restrained her magic into one horizontal blast aimed straight at Ximena’s heart. She couldn’t help the smile that lit up her face at seeing the traitor’s terrified expression as it grew ever near. At the last moment, when it was maybe half a foot away from her chest, Esadora stopped, feeling a tiny bit irritated at the effort she needed to do so. Forcing her expression to stay in a smirk, she called out to Ximena.

“How does it feel, Ximena? Knowing if I just let a bit of my focus slip, you’d be a dead woman?” Saying this aloud made Esadora feel anything but smug, but she kept her voice level and let go of her constriction spell on Ximena. The girl fell to the ground, immediately scooting back until she hit the wall.

Stilling her hand, Esadora stared her pure, bright magic down until it disappeared. She breathed in a sigh of content as it settled back inside of her. She then stalked forward to Ximena’s trembling form. “Oh, calm down—you’re making me feel like the villain here. But I’m not, right? I mean, you started it.” She paused. “Why did you decide to fight me, actually?”

Her words seemed to ignite something in Ximena, the girl jumping up and clenching fists, eyes widened with rage. “Because you deserve it! You talk to me like I’m some child who doesn’t know anything—or even like I’m your servant! And you look down on me, just because you were born with an amazing amount of magic and potential. But that’s just it—you were born with it! The rest of us have to work to get there, while you get to talk down to us like you’re something special, when in reality, you’re just a spoiled, overpowered—”

Esadora winced at the smacking sound her palm made when it connected with Ximena’s cheek, then at the screaming that ensued afterward. She’d used a bit of pure magic for that slap, but she didn’t think it would warrant this noise of pure agony! She glanced down at Ximena, whose left cheek now had the sort of wound you got by rubbing very hard against a carpet. She honestly felt a little bad for the girl, though all of this was of her own doing. She’d known she couldn’t win, yet she still picked a fight with her, and now Esadora was humiliating her in front of many witches that’d been drawn to their fight.

“Well, I guess you were right about not being a coward.” She leaned down to whisper her next words in her ear. “You’re just a weakling.” And then she strutted away, a shit-eating grin lighting up her face as whispers turned into shouts of congratulations for her and curses for Ximena.

From all around, people surrounded her, so many she knew, yet just as many that she didn’t. But amongst them all, there was only one who truly knew her… Ezra Graves. And right then, he was staring at her with the coldest expression known to witches. Her excitement washed away and, ignoring the shouts and yells to get her attention, she left the school through the exit closest to her.

She began trudging home, spirit deflated. Ezra was definitely going to scold her when she got home. The expression that’d been on his face—he’d looked so mad! Why though? She’d just been defending herself against Ximena. And if he was angry about how she’d used her pure magic at the end, Ximena had done it first! Plus, she had to set an example and show people that it wasn’t a very wise decision for them to attack her. It was a waste of her time and theirs—she would win, and they’d be left humiliated. It didn’t benefit anyone.

This argument at the forefront of her mind, Esadora swung her front door open with a renewed vigor. Maybe Ezra would see her side of the story for once.

“I’m home!” she announced, taking off her cloak.

“Up here!” came Ezra’s voice from above—she still wondered how he could get to her own house before she could.

She hurried up the stairs and straight into her room, heaving an exasperated sigh upon finding Ezra having taken up most of her bed. “Where am I supposed to sit?” she asked.

He raised a dark red eyebrow at her. “Uh, the floor?” She could see him mouthing duh and squinted at him. Whose house was this? Nonetheless, she sat on the floor.

“Now,” he said, sitting up and crossing one leg over the other, “Do you mind telling me why you and Ximena were fighting?”

Esadora widened her eyes dramatically. “You know her name? I thought you kept away from girls.”

His cheeks pinked. “Don’t… it’s not—” He cut off, shaking his head, then growled, to which Esadora giggled. “Shut up. And don’t change the subject—what happened?”

Esadora sighed, then began recounting the event. As she spoke, she watched Ezra’s expression carefully. For most of her retelling, he looked mildly irritated, but when she got to the part where she was taunting Ximena with her pure magic, he snarled at her, looking just about ready to pounce. And once she finished, he did, straddling her and slamming her to the ground.

“Ow! Are you out of your mind? Get off of me!”

“If anyone’s out of their mind, it’s you! What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you do that?”

She sneered, struggling against his hold on her wrists. “I might consider telling you if you get off of me! You’re so fat!” The opposite was true, really, but she wanted him off of her. Now.

He hesitated for a moment but backed off, crossing his arms.

Esadora stood up and massaged her wrists. “Acting like an animal because of some crush,” she muttered.

“Don’t fucking test me right now,” he said, voice low and harsh. “Explain yourself.”

She could practically feel the rage radiating from his being as she began to speak, eyes trained on the floor. She tried to sugarcoat some things, but by the end, she could feel Ezra’s glare burning a hole through her head.

It was only a moment later that he exploded at her. “How far are you up your own ass that you can’t see how snobby you sound? Gah! You’re so entitled!”

Esadora gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. Even her best friend thought of her like that. “You know, of all people, I never thought you would—whatever. Nevermind. Just… if you’re going to act like this, leave. I can’t deal with you right now.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

She nodded, pointing to her bedroom door.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he said. “Why do you always think you’re right? And why are you so damn insensitive? All you can see is that you’ve been wronged, so no one else’s feelings matter. Not even your best friend’s.”

She only turned her head away, crossing her arms. “Get out.”

“Fine.” She could detect the slight waver in his voice, but pushed down the guilt it gave her. “But if you ever find yourself all alone, I hope you finally realize that you did that all by yourself.” And then he stomped out, slamming her bedroom door on his way out.

She heard his heavy steps all the way out of her house, then the bang of her front door, which rattled the whole house. Damn. He was pissed. And she didn’t know why. Shouldn’t she have been the one who was mad? After all, her only real friend thought she was entitled and snobby! But deep down, there was this regret and guilt cutting into her, and she had no idea why.

She thought through what he’d said. And why are you so damn insensitive? All you can see is that you’ve been wronged, so no one else’s feelings matter. Not even your best friend’s. At first, she’d thought he was talking about his feelings for Ximena, but that didn’t warrant this kind of anger. No, he was talking about… his parents!

She facepalmed. How could she have been so heartless? No wonder he’d looked like he wanted to wring her neck! She’d been justifying threatening Ximena with pure magic when his parents had died from it.

Not wasting a second, she raced down the stairs, flinging her cloak on. She had to make this right. Once she was out of the house, she didn’t slow, dashing across the lush field that separated her house from the school. Glad that there were no students outside to bother her, she went into one of the many entrances of her school, brainstorming where Ezra could be. The only thing she could think of was the Art Room, so she hurried there.

As she approached the room, however, she heard a familiar voice giggling, then another familiar voice saying something she couldn’t quite make out. She stopped directly in front of the room, hesistant as she put her hand on the doorknob. Who could be in there?

Steeling herself for the worst, she opened the door. And what’d you know, it was the worst—Ezra and Ximena sat together in front of a strange painting, chatting and flirting like nothing in the past hour had happened. Well, they had been doing that, but now that Esadora had appeared, their conversation halted, and both of them stared at her.

If it’d been another day, Esadora may have found them to be a cute couple, but alas, it wasn’t. Not even an hour ago, Ximena had picked a fight with her. And she’d lost. But Esadora, the winner, hadn’t received the congratulations she’d been hoping for from her best friend. No. Instead, she’d been screamed at and told she was snobby. And now, her best friend was here, hanging out with Ximena.

Utterly fucking ridiculous.

Esadora knew this train of thought would only lead to some regrettable action and, deep down, knew everything Ezra had done and said was completely justified, but she couldn’t care less. She just felt betrayed. She blew out a labored breath.

“I really don’t know what I expected. Clearly too much though. Too much from you, Ximena, who I thought could be my friend, and too much from you, Ezra, who I thought could maybe understand. And definitely way too much from myself! I thought I was being nice! But I guess once your someway, you’re always that way.”

She paused, taking them both in, especially the hand that was on Ximena’s knee. “You know, I came here to say sorry to you, Ezra, but I guess I should really be saying congratulations! I’m so happy that you both found each other—now you can spend the rest of your worthless lives together.” And then she turned on her heel and stalked away.

An hour later, Esadora was curled up on her couch, hiccuping from crying so hard. She’d been thinking about everything that’d happened—from her fight with Ximena to the outburst she’d had—and she could say with honesty that she regretted everything she’d done.

When Ximena had attacked her, Esadora was completely justified in defending herself, but she shouldn’t have taken it any farther than that—especially not to the degree that she used pure magic. And then she’d tried to rationalize her actions to Ezra. For that, she could never forgive herself.

She also wouldn’t blame Ezra if he wanted nothing to do with her anymore. She didn’t want anything to do with herself either. Being at the top of the hierarchy, Esadora was supposed to set an example for others to follow, and the example that she’d set today was that it was okay to use pure magic on anyone if they pissed you off enough! Her actions were not only morally wrong, but encouraged the same from her peers. How could she possibly walk into school the next day with her head held when she’d done such a horrible thing? And how would she face—

The sound of the front door opening made Esadora jump out of bed. “Ezra?”

There was only the scuffling of feet toward the stairs.

“Ezra?” she called again, her voice louder.

This time, the stairs creaked from the weight of someone coming up.

If it wasn’t Ezra, then who could it be? If it was any normal person, they would’ve responded to her, and told her who they were.

But this was no normal being.

She could feel it in her heart, in her mind, in her soul. It was a vampire. She didn’t know how she knew—she’d never even seen a vampire!—but she did. And it terrified the fuck out of her. Listening closely as it crept up the stairs, she backed out of view of her doorway. When the vampire got to the second floor, if it just turned left, the first thing it would see was her room, and she felt safer knowing it wouldn’t see her immediately.

As quietly as she could, she muttered, “Keep me on the verge of dark and light, between this world and the other. Let clarity abandon me.”

Esadora could admit, that wasn’t her best spell, but she’d never tried anything involving her visibility, and she was in a very anxiety-inducing situation. It’d been hard enough just to utter the words.

And just in time, too. The vampire had reached the second floor. She couldn’t see it from where she was at, but its steps had paused. Then they continued.

Hugging herself, she backed into the corner of her room, waiting for it to appear in her doorway so she could get around it.

When ‘it’ appeared, however, she didn’t move. She was too bewildered to.

In front of her stood… a boy. And he looked no different than any other boy she’d ever seen, except for his dark yellow eyes—almost golden. His eyes and her sense were the only things that reminded her of what he truly was and got her moving as he lurked further into the room.

She kept a close eye on him, keeping to the far edge of the room, so as to not be anywhere near him. He walked with his head angled downward, every step taken with care. His eyes zipped in each direction, his body tense as if he was ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

Then there came the time that they passed each other. Esadora squirmed at how close she had to be to him to get past, her stomach tied in painful knots. Once she was at the doorway, she let out a tiny breath of relief—she still had to get out of the house, but at least she wasn’t so close to him.

She was quickly shocked out of her little moment of reprieve when she heard the vampire’s footsteps pause for a moment. Then they shifted in her direction. Panic shot through her, and she dashed from the room as she heard a woosh from behind her. He knew she was here. And she didn’t stand a chance against him. She made a sharp turn for the stairs, but cried out when he caught hold of her hair and pulled her backward, spinning them both around so she was against the wall. Her invisibility spell faded as the vampire clutched her shoulder and pulled her hair, nuzzling his face into her exposed neck.

Fear preventing her from using any magic, Esadora began to beg for her life. “P-please don’t kill me!”

“Kill you? Now why would I do that?” He clutched her hair tighter, inhaling. “Did you know that your blood smells so... delicious?” She froze as his teeth grazed her neck.

Oh God no!

“Please don’t bite me! I’ll do anything!”

He chuckled. “Oh, I know you will. But I don’t care. I just want to cause you a lot of pain.”

Those were the last words Esadora heard before her mind was consumed by agony.