Cage
“WHO CAN TELL ME THE signs of a host?” I lean back against my desk, surveying the rows of students in front of me. With the growing number of entity manifestations in civilians, revisiting the topic felt necessary; the mages need to be ready.
“Changes in eye color, personality, and increased aggression,” one of the younger mages offers quickly.
“Good. What else?”
“Early signs can include sudden illness, unexplained weight loss, and changes in appetite. In some cases, they may also develop an aversion to light,” a more seasoned student adds.
“Correct. Recently, new beings have begun manifesting within mortals. We don’t yet have names for them, or any true understanding of what they are. Iris believes what we’re seeingare only in their infant forms. We’ve yet to face the full strength of what they could become.”
The conversation with Iris hasn’t left me. I hate surprises, and the thing that burst from the Duke was surprise enough, but this? If Iris is right, that creature was just the beginning. The idea of something worse—something stronger—gnaws at me.How strong could these things get?
That creature had two phases—an anomaly for sure. If the creature did end up powerful in its full form, the second form would have given us some trouble.
I grind my jaw. I can’t predict it. I can’t control how this situation will unfold. And that fact alone is driving me insane.
“Exercise caution when dealing with any suspected hosts. The last one Kalix and I encountered had two phases. Don’t assume a killing blow means the job is done.”
Quills scratch across parchment as my students dutifully take notes. I continue lecturing them, moving onto the varying incubation periods of different infectious entities as I round my desk, and then I step up to the massive blackboard. I write as I speak, expecting their full attention.
The room is a tiered, theater-style lecture hall; rows of seats rise in clean formation from the floor where I stand. Every student has a clear view of the board, meaning there are no excuses for distraction.
To ensure their focus, I maintain mental tethers with each of them. I don’t sift through every thought, not unless I must, but the cords keep me aware of their presence and alertness.
One of them wavers. I feel the fatigue before his head drops, the tether dimming as he begins to drift. I yank on the cord as I raise my brow.
A startled yelp erupts from behind me as Leviticus jerks upright, ripped from his half-slumber.
“Pay attention, Leviticus,” I say coldly, never bothering to turn around. The chalk continues to move under my hand, uninterrupted.
I set the chalk down and turn to face the class.
“Questions now.” It’s not a request but a command. I expect them to think—to use their damn brains to form coherent thoughts, not just sit there like dead weight when the floor opens to them.
Hands shoot up in abundance.Good. They know better by now.Before I can call on anyone, a low hissing sound fills the room. It grows louder, like metal protesting under intense heat. Then—
BOOM.
The steel doors at the back of the hall explode inward, crashing into the stone walls with a thunderous slam.
And there she is.
She’s pissed off, her sapphire eyes burning.
Hello, little witch.
She’s still in the thin black nightgown the healers dressed her in after Kalix’s sedative. A wave of satisfaction washes over me as I recognize my initial carved neatly into her chest.She healed beautifully.
My students lurch to their feet, rattled by the sudden intrusion and the very real threat in front of them: a witch. She’s the one who nearly leveled the ground two nights ago.
“Leave, and I will kill you all. Sit. Now.” Her voice is lethal, like the calm waters before a storm.
“You will not touch even a hair on them,” I snap, though my mind is already linking to each student.Do as she says. For now.
They sit.
She smiles wide and viciously, and then she saunters down the aisle, gaze flicking over their terrified faces like she’s admiring meat.
