Sparks by RS McCoy Read Free Book Online

up, and both his shirt and pants were made of the same light-grey fabric. Unlike the Headmistress, or Rhorken, he didn’t wear a pendant, and I could only assume that meant he had yet to earn it.
    Avis led me down a new set of stone corridors for at least twenty minutes, which gave me a far better idea of the enormity of Myxini. The walls shared the same grey tone as the floors, though they were dressed largely in tapestries that depicted famous events, such as the fall of the Hurgadan King during the Third Wars. It was a proud moment for Madurai–back when we had those.
    The corridor narrowed and each side became stippled with doors. Boys walked here or there, and the hall seemed to continue forever. It made me wonder just how many students lived there, but based on the length of the hall and the number of doors, it had to be quite a few.
    Avis stopped in front of a random door and pushed it open. “This is your room. Your coverings are in the drawer. You’ll wear them every day, do you hear me?” His words were laced with contempt.
    What did I do? I was so taken aback by his tone that I couldn’t even think to reply. I could only stare, and wonder about his anger. His fist came out of nowhere, and threw me to the ground.
    “Did you fucking hear me?”
    “What’s your problem?” I managed to say, though my jaw felt like it had caught fire. A second punch landed on my cheekbone, and I lost sight of the world for a moment. How can this be happening?
    Rough hands grabbed the collar of my shirt and gruffly lifted me from the floor. “You’re here to listen, boy. Now, you’ll wear your coverings every day. Do you understand?” He spoke slowly, as if I was simple, and his voice shook with hatred. I nodded in consent, for fear my words would reveal my resentment.
    Avis helped me to my feet and continued on with the tour as if nothing happened. I walked behind him, and prodded my cheek . Already swelling. Great . It throbbed painfully, and I knew it wouldn’t look any better than it felt by the end of the day.
    My heart sank when I realized what it would mean for my future. The one person I was supposed to obey wholeheartedly hated me for reasons I could not understand. My anger soared when I thought that Khea’s mentor might treat her the same way. Is that how things work here? In the short time I’d been with Avis, he made me re-question why I’d ever decided to come.
    Thankfully, the rest of the tour was relatively short, courtesy of my mentor’s distaste for my presence. He left me in the dining hall with instructions to “be ready to start Round One in the morning.”
    Fifty or so students sat around the dining hall, and it seemed as if each wore a different color. Large grey stones gave the space a cool feel, but large braziers in the corners filled the air with heat. Smells of cooking meat, spices, and hot bread mixed in a mouth-watering aroma that was a stark contrast to the chill from Avis.
    If I ever doubted my abilities to hear thoughts, that moment washed it away. The sheer volume of thoughts, and the strength of some of them, overwhelmed me instantly. I felt deaf, and my bruised head swirled even more. It was impossible to make out any single thought; there were just too many of them. With nothing else to do but try to ignore the voices, I approached the window where a woman stood, ready to serve bread and stew.
    “Good afternoon, ma’am,” I said, with no clue if there was a process I was supposed to follow. Thankfully she was strong minded and, due our close proximity, her thoughts came out loud and clear. I was a skinny, deprived boy who wasn’t worth the time, and she wasn’t even sure why I was let inside. I began to back away before she yelled in a thick Hurgadan accent, “Who do ya’ think ya’ are, comin’ into my kitchen? Git.”
    It’s my clothes , I realized as she waved me away angrily. I needed to put on the coverings I’d been issued. When I ran off, many eyes were on me, but