by Taki Drake
The threat against her friend did what personal danger had never managed to do. Corda was frantic with the need to protect her friend and pulled a formless spark of energy from deep within her core. Feeling that small bit of power racing down to her hand, the young girl swung in the approximate direction of Pharyl’s head and slapped him across the face.
Pharyl roared in outraged surprise and smashed the 13-year-old’s head into the wall. Transferring his hold from shirt to neck, the furious man shook Corda, whipping her head back and forth as he throttled her slender throat.
The power of the attack was so great that Corda had no energy to fight him any longer. Unable to breathe, unable to speak, the young girl felt a teardrop slip from her eyes as she thought to herself, I knew this was too good to last. But at least I got to find out what it was like to have friends.
Still wrenched from one side to another by the manic grip of her enraged brother, Corda was astonished when a massive force pulled her from his hands. The young girl could feel the gouges in her throat left by fingernails and whistling breath that she managed to pull through her bruised and abused throat.
There was only a split second before she was enclosed in someone else’s arms, but Corda had no more energy to move on her own. The tense muscles under her cheek and a familiar scent let her bemused mind identify Gerald before he pushed her into another set of arms.
The delicate, floral notes of her roommate’s body wash had intrigued the young girl from the first time Liz had gotten close to her, and that scent wrapped around her like a comforting hug. Corda relaxed slightly, desperately holding onto the hope that someone would protect her until she could recover.
Pharyl snarled, “You dare!” The young girl heard a voice that sounded like her friend Gerald answer him. Corda’s head was pounding, and for a moment she was confused, thinking, That almost sounds like Gerald, but I’ve never heard him talk like that.
“Unless you want to be thrown out of the Academy and into jail for assault and battery, I would suggest that you keep your hands off your fellow students.”
“That is my sister, and she’s been due a lesson for a long time. Stay out of this, it’s family business.”
An almost animalistic snarl of rage came from two directions, but Corda’s shaky consciousness prevented her from identifying who possibly could be making that sound.
Before the fight could go any further, a new voice interjected, demanding in authoritative tones, “What is going on here?!” Corda thought that she knew the voice but lost her tenuous hold on consciousness as a massive cloud of blackness descended on her, flattening her awareness and crushing her ability to think.
<< <> >>
The smell of morning mint and citrus tickled Corda’s nose until she stepped through the veil into full consciousness. For a moment, she luxuriated in the feel of soft pillows and a warm blanket before the shock of her situation kicked in, and she sat up like a folding jackknife in bed and gasped, “I’m going to be late for my class!”
Hands were touching and holding her, and to her surprise, she felt no need to fight to get free. At some level, she knew that she could trust the people attached to those hands even if she couldn’t rely on herself. Feeling protected and not in immediate danger, Corda let herself slip back into unconsciousness, ready to let whatever needed to occur to happen.
Floating in a sea of cloudy semi-consciousness, the young girl realized that people were surrounding her and talking. Every once in a while, comments and voices would become real before the tide of pain and fear pulled her back down.
<< <> >>
Feeling sheltered and at peace, Corda opened her eyes. For a moment, she tried to process what her sense told her, but slowly her normal thought processes reconnected, and she realized that there were four people sitting around her and that she was lying on a cot.
Trying to speak, the young girl fought her way through a parched and sore throat, to croak, “Am I late for class?”
There was a shocking moment of silence, and Corda’s hands were instantly clenched into a larger, trembling grip as she heard Gerald say brokenly, “Are you finally with us?” Still unable to focus her eyes, Corda heard Liz exclaim, “Don’t you ever make us worry like this again!”
Chapter 9 – Pain is Just Pain
Corda was in the infirmary for five days, forbidden to even walk unattended to the bathroom. For the first two, she had floated in and out of consciousness, only alert for a few minutes at a time. Each awakening, she would look around the room in a panic, trying to recognize where she was.
The sight of her friends always allowed her to relax. After a while, she realized that it was more than Gerald and Liz that sat with her. The young woman that she had run into in the bathroom, Argah, was also there sometimes when she woke, sitting in the chair over in the corner with a reading light pointed at the book in her lap.
On the third day, when she awoke, there was a familiar-looking man of about Gerald’s age sitting in the chair instead of any of her other three friends. Bemused, Corda stared at him in the dim light for a few minutes before croaking out, “Grediaz. I remember your last name and that you are a Maker.”
The young man, who had looked very nervous in the lecture hall, looked up and smiled at her with an open, sweet expression. In a hushed voice, he said, “Yes, my name is Risee Grediaz. We were in class together right before you got attacked.”
Corda looked at him with blurry vision, closing first one eye and then switching to the other before she said, “My brain hurts, and I can’t seem to think of the right words to say, so I’m just going to blurt it out. I don’t think we’ve been friends, so why are you here?”
Looking embarrassed, the young man answered, “It was not right what happened to you. Only your two friends started to defend you in the beginning, and I know that bullies have to be stood up to, so I came to help.”
“Oh no, now Pharyl will try to hurt you too. He always tries to cause pain to those that he can get away with hurting. I am so sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault that your brother is a sadistic bully. It’s nothing you did wrong, and he had no call to attack you.”
As if a faucet had turned on, tears poured out of Corda’s eyes and washed down her face. She stared at her fellow student, unable to reconcile his selfless assistance with what she had come to expect in her world. Caught in a whirlpool of confusion, Corda managed a faint whisper of sound, “Thank you.”
The young girl heard the beginning of words as the boy started to respond to her, but her overstressed body signaled the end of her capacity by dropping her through a trapdoor into the abyss of unconsciousness once again.
<< <> >>
Slowly over the next few days, Corda recovered, and she was able to stay awake for longer periods. Willingly, her friends brought her books and homework assignments, so she didn’t fall too far behind the rest of the class. The young girl felt like she was in a holding pattern, waiting for a big explosion.
Corda had quite a few visitors, although the Healers were careful to make sure she didn’t get overly excited or exhausted. She was touched by the visits of some of her classmates who came in and mumbled apologies or best wishes, depending on their natures and fled as soon as they could.
When Prof. Ryante came in to see her, it was on the fourth day of Corda’s hospitalization. The young girl had been reading a textbook assignment by that very professor and was immensely flattered by the woman’s appearance. However, when the professor shooed Liz out of the room and carefully closed the door, dread crawled up Corda’s back, chilling her to the bone.
“There is no need to look at me that way,” said Prof. Ryante. I thought it was vital for you to know what happened between the time that you were attacked and now. I also thought you might wish to know what will happen within the next two days.”
Corda clutched her textbook to her chest and suppressed a shiver of fear before she asked in a breaking tone, “Am I b
eing expelled?”
“Of course, not. You are the victim here, not the attacker. However, the Academy has a process where things like this are handled, and you have not gotten to those parts of your orientation yet. I thought I might give you some knowledge of what’s gonna happen.”
The young girl was so shaken that all she could do was nod her head. Corda was fairly sure that her voice would not respond to her, so she just stared dumbly at the woman. Prof. Ryante gazed back at her consideringly before running her hands through her hair in frustration, and saying, “Pharyl Watern was immediately placed on room arrest where he has been confined to his chamber. Security forces were called, and he was escorted to his room and placed under guard. Those that participated with him in that assault were also detained.”
Corda went chalk-white, and she pulled her textbook closer to her chest. Aris Ryante waited for the young girl to respond, noticing the trembling of the girl's mouth. An intense flash of pain washed over that useful face, and a corresponding sympathy filled the Teacher's eyes when the 13-year-old asked, “Did anyone tell my parents?”
“Your parents were immediately informed of the incident, as was the Academy Tribunal.”
Her soul in her eyes, Corda stared at Aris and waited. Unable to resist that silent plea for information, the powerful Mage and experienced Teacher answered the young girl's unspoken question with the bluntness that accompanies the ripping off of a bandage. Devoid of any emotion, Prof. Ryante said, “Your father immediately came and consulted with your brother. A special Advocate has been appointed to him at your family’s expense.”
Corda closed her eyes, and Aris saw the droplets of tears trapped in her lashes as she asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper, “Did anyone else come with him? I don’t expect that he would have come to see me, but did my mother or anyone else come?”
The air was crystalline quiet as the Mage's voice said, “No.” The word seemed to echo around the room, bouncing off hard surfaces and smoothing into background noises where it touched fabrics. Corda drew a breath, slow and controlled, and held it for a moment.
When the young girl opened her eyes, Aris Ryante was shocked by the control that she saw in such a young child. Knowing that there was a tremendous amount of pain hidden behind that calm façade, Aris reached out as if to touch Corda, but the young girl flinched back, and the Mage dropped her hand.
Corda asked quietly, “What else is going to happen?”
Shaking herself a little bit to regain her focus, Aris Ryante gave her a quick rundown, saying, “The Academy Tribunal will meet and review what has happened. They have already secured the monitor recordings and have done all the interviews. It is not immediately clear if they will wish or need to interview you, but if they do, it will be with an adult present.”
Corda nodded her head in a jerky manner, closing her eyes briefly with an expression of pain. Pushed into speech, the professor continued, “The Tribunal will meet in three days, at which time the consequences of the behavior will be defined.”
The girl and the woman stared at each other for a moment as the older woman waited to see if there were any questions the young girl wanted to ask. When nothing was forthcoming, Aris finished this pain-filled conversation by saying, “Since it is the conclusion of the Headmaster that you have done nothing wrong, you are free to move about as you wish, as long as it is within the guidelines of the Healers’recommendation. I personally would suggest that you rest up because fractured skulls are never easy from which to recover.”
Feeling as if she were fleeing from the hordes of hell, Aris stood up and quickly summarized, saying, “Rest and recover for the next few days. Then be prepared for questioning and an appearance at the Tribunal. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask either the Headmaster or me.”
Without another word, the woman left Corda’s hospital room, closing the door quietly behind herself.
Chapter 10 – Consequences
The days before the meeting of the Tribunal would have been harder for Corda to tolerate if she had not been so numb. Subdued in spirit, the young girl had obediently followed all of the instructions of the Healers and was unfailingly courteous to her friends and the infirmary attendants that helped her.
Corda knew her friends were worried about her, but she couldn’t reach beyond her overwhelming fear and grief to talk to them. The 13-year-old realized that even when she was allowed to go back to her room that her friends never left her alone. The young girl wanted to tell them that she wasn’t that fragile, but Corda wasn’t sure if she would have been lying. Instead, she focused on getting her homework done and trying to recover her mobility, which had suffered from the injuries and the extended time in bed.
The day before the Tribunal hearing, Corda was once again studying in her room while Liz and Risee were cheerfully discussing the current homework for two of their classes. All three of them jumped when there was a sharp knock on the door. Corda shrank down in an immediate reaction, feeling like her stomach had dropped to the floor. Her roommate reacted far differently, seeming to spring up off her chair as she charged toward the door.
Liz yanked the door open, and Corda heard an unusually aggressive tone in her roommate’s voice as she asked, “Who are you, and what do you want?”
The voice that answered was that of an elderly man, and he seemed to be somewhat amused as he said, “I am Advocate Amity, and I have been sent by Corda’s grandmother to stand in her defense, if necessary.”
Instantly, Corda was upright and moving toward the door, tears falling down her face as her trembling voice squeaked out, “Nona? You came from Nona?”
“Yes, child. Your grandmother is light-years away and has just heard what happened. There was no way she could get here in time to sit with you, so she called me to ask as both an old friend of hers and an accomplished professional in my field if I would come and assist you.”
Liz tumbled into speech, saying, “The school is telling us that Corda doesn’t have to worry about anything, so why would she need an Advocate?”
Risee quickly suggested, “How about if you let the man come in rather than discussing things so everybody in the hall can hear?” The young man promptly typed into his wrist computer as if he were closing files and stacked the papers that they were discussing in a neat pile. Corda thought to herself, Risee always seems to be so organized and in control. Maybe that’s part of being a Maker.
Liz flushed and looked apologetically at Corda before moving away from the doorway and gesturing the elderly man to enter. The Advocate moved directly over to Corda and placed a very gentle hand on her shoulder, staring earnestly in her face and saying, “Your grandmother is heartbroken that she could not be here for you, and she is furious that you have been hurt.
“The Academy is positive that you have done nothing wrong, but that does not mean that there may not be other consequences that need to be addressed as an outcome of this hearing. After talking to Misha, I volunteered to come here and help you in any way that I could.”
Corda tried to smile, but she knew that her lips were shaking and hated the look of pity that showed on the old man’s face. Brokenly, the 13-year-old said, “Thank you.”
“Your Nona will be here the day after tomorrow because that is the fastest ship she could find. I promised her that I would do everything in my power to act in her stead until she can get here and hold you in her arms.”
Just then, Gerald came barreling into the room. Moving toward Corda, his expression changed from fiercely-protective to surprised as he caught sight of the old man. “Advocate Amity, I am surprised to see you, sir.”
With an unusual bow of respect, the elderly Advocate responded, “An unexpected encounter, sir. However, Misha will be very pleased to see that her beloved grandchild has friends to act as protectors and supporters.”
Corda was confused, glancing between the two men and attempting to understand what was going on. Her heightened sensitivity let her catch the quick look of
gratitude that Gerald shot Risee, and her mind instantly jumped to the conclusion that the young Maker had notified Gerald of the stranger’s arrival. What did I do to deserve such good friends, she wondered to herself, I certainly can’t think of anything that I’ve done that would result in them caring this much.
Gerald's recognition of the elderly Advocate significantly lowered the tension in the room. Perching on the edge of Corda’s bed, the old man said, “Ask me any question that you have, and I will try to answer. I know you have to be very worried, and while most of us are not concerned, there’s always some possibility of unexpected things happening that may distress or upset you.”
When Corda didn’t immediately say anything, Liz jumped in with a couple questions that she had, “What will happen to Pharyl? Is Corda going to have to stay in classes and get protected from him? Why is there even a hearing!?”
Advocate Amity responded, “There are many things that could be assigned as Pharyl’s consequences. The grounds of the Academy are covered under particular charters when it comes to violations, and that means that instead of normal criminal complaint jurisdiction which would fall to the city, the Tribunal has jurisdiction for adjudication and punishment.”
Liz sounded disgusted when she said, “That seems pretty silly. Why would anybody do that?”
Now smiling at her, the elderly man answered, “if you think about the problem with Magic users, the greater population isn’t going to understand what comprises a violation of any of the Disciplines’ Oaths. Therefore, when the Academy was set up, it was decided that in order to appropriately judge the severity of the crime, judges and any panel sitting in review needed to be aware of all the ramifications of the Magical Disciplines.”
“Oh, that makes sense now.” Liz seemed to relax and even leaned against Risee in the chair next to her. The elderly man continued answering the questions that she had asked, saying, “Corda should not have to deal with Pharyl in the Academy at all. The very minimum that will be assigned as his punishment is being kicked out of the Academy.”
