Page 7 of Phoenix Academy: Madness

Stepping down from the bonfire, away from the burned body of my mother and two strangers, I held a hand wrapped in blue fire out towards him. He whimpered. Looking in his eyes, I saw fear, and I felt powerful.

For so long I ran from them.

My family suffered. My little sister most of all. She didn't get a home because of all the running.

Suddenly I was faced with an opportunity: to take back what was stolen from me. My power and my pride.

He tried to turn and run, but I said, "Stay," and was shocked that he obeyed. Magic poured out of me, feral and strange, blue and alive. It wrapped itself around the man as I told him, "Kneel."

He did. Looking up at me with rapturous obedience on his face, he worshipped me like a god.

As if I was his Heretic.

My stomach churned uneasily. The blue fire writhing around my hand pulled back beneath my skin. An urge filled me: to touch the man. So I reached out and pressed my thumb against his forehead.

Madness poured out of me and into him.

Feral, living, chaotic magic, blue as fairy dust, wild and strange. It sank beneath his skin and turned his irises so blue that they glowed. They were a bright, impossible color, like neon lights or artificial food coloring.

I felt relief as the magic left me and settled into him. It was like letting pressure out of a valve. None of my naturalistic magic ever felt that way.

That was when the madness started. Eyes impossibly blue, the man began to pant like a wild animal. Spittle flying out of his open mouth, he snorted, barked like a dog, and ran right through the bonfire. Clothes burning with blue flames, he kept running, out into the woods and beyond, where he howled like a madman.

Tingles ran up and down my arms. This, then, was what it was like to die and come back to life. I was starting to wonder if the legends my mother once told me about Salem were true.

Some witches burn.

Others rise up from the ashes.

Becoming something new.

Tiny blue flames licking at my skin, I turned my eyes towards the little cottage and headed up its stairs. I hadn't seen my sister's body on the bonfire, and now that I had new power, I was determined to save her from the Heretic. As I approached the back door, I saw my reflection in the glass.

My hair was blue, cut bluntly at my neck, flyaways floating on either side of my head. Like the man who was still howling in the woods, I had bright blue irises that glowed with magic. My skin was impossibly perfect, the scar I'd once had running through my eyebrow gone, every scratch and burn disappeared.

If the Heretic thought I was an abomination before, I was ten times more unnaturally horrifying now that I'd been born again in flames.

Determined to get Lizzy out of his clutches, I kicked in the back door of the cottage and strode through with a shout of fury, fire writhing around my hands.

That's where I found the asswipe with the hookah shell necklace, dirty blond hair, and an impossibly serene dude-like smile. He was sitting in the middle of the bloodstains on the floor, looking like a yoga instructor instead of one of the Heretic's crazed followers. I recognized him from the chase through the woods; he was the one who'd found our tracks, despite everything we did to cover them up.

"You are Risen," he said, pronouncing the word with unusual reverence. "I must tell My Lord. He will be so joyful to learn that you survived, unlike the others."

I went cold all over at his words. "The others?"

He blinked. "Your mother and sister did not survive the ceremony."

"My sister's body wasn't on the pyre," I said, frantically searching for a reason why his words couldn't be true. "I didn't see her body."

"He took her to the woods to give her to nature. Children's spirits call to the beyond. Hers will be useful in a ritual that will give him more power." He said this so casually, as if he were talking about a pile of wood and not my little sister. "I'm sure he will be back soon to see what you've become. Truly, it's marvelous."

Something came over me.

A wild, angry desire to tear him apart like a wild animal.

Lunging forward, I wrapped my hands around his neck and squeezed as tight as I could. He choked, eyes wide, staring up at me with something like ecstasy on his face.

"You fucking fuck." I snarled at him, blue magic seeping from my hands and sinking into his skin. His eyes turned blue, just like mine in my reflection. "What kind of person helps someone kill a twelve-year-old girl by draining her blood? It's disgusting. I hope you die eating your own dick, you sick fuck."

---