Chapter 8: Cliques and Outcasts
“I-” she thought for a second, “No! I won’t! Phantasia’s amazing! She’s…” she paused and leaned in towards her so-called friends, “She’s better than that old pigeon up there.”
“Y-you don’t mean?” hissed Elone, glancing up at the girl locking arms with Sir Leonardo, whom she appeared to model her own appearance on, “No way do you think we can replace her with this freak? Sir Leo would never accept her!”
Vincent smirked and Phantasia felt a sudden openness from him, as if he had only just recognised she really existed. “Now you mention it, I kinda like your way of thinking, Shelley. We introduce a new idol, and then we’d be the ones with power! That Leonardo’s just there because he knows the leader singer of ‘Our Dying Wish’!”
“I thought they were your favourite band, Vincent?” said Elone.
“Yes, well they are, but that’s not the point,”
Elone scowled at him, and he returned the expression.
“Please!” said Shelley, breaking up an argument before it started, “I’ve been thinking about this all night! I think Phantasia is cool enough to be a new idol! I don’t care for the politics!”
Phantasia was as confused as ever. These Hawks were certainly just as volatile and unpredictable as the Fire faeries they reminded her of, but they made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t even allowed a say in their plans? Plans that, it would seem, were more about doing what was best for themselves! It was as she was observing the flow of mana around the area, and trying to shield herself from Vincent’s envious vibes directed at Sir Leonardo, that she felt something familiar. She scanned the area again, opening her senses up and ignoring the numbing pain from the emotional corruption, and found an all-too-familiar sight: tendrils of tainted mana drifting towards a nearby shadow. Without a word of explanation to Shelley and the others, who were now in a heated – albeit whispered – debate, she slipped off to follow the flow.
The shadow-thing was perched on the roof of a nearby building, overlooking the gallery. It wasn’t the same one she had met before, though – it was less vaporous, more defined and monstrous and a red fire burned inside it. When it sensed Phantasia’s approach, it fled.
She pursued it down an alleyway, following the trail of the monster in her mind’s eye, passing only a handful of people as the streets blurred by. It dived into a wall, and – after checking there was no one around to see her – Phantasia followed. Though pitch black on the other side, Phantasia was a faerie and had no problems following the wraith as it fled through more walls. Finally it came to a stop, in a dusty old ruin on the outskirts of the town. Quite how far the chase had taken them, Phantasia didn’t know. She could barely see the outside world through the clouded windows and fallen masonry. The shadow, meanwhile, was watching her.
Phantasia wanted to destroy it. It was manifest darkness, a creature that would feed until there was nothing left. There was no heart, no light within; it was just a stain on the leylines of mana. She had to destroy it before anyone was hurt, or worse, killed. Yet Phantasia just stood there, looking into its infinite void.
She didn’t know how to destroy it. She didn’t know how to fight. No one had ever taught her. Faye would have the knowledge to find a weak point; a Wind faerie could control the flow of life to harness the world around her; an Earth faerie could alter the physical layout of her surroundings; and a Fire faerie could just blast the wraith with magical energy until it shattered.
But what could Phantasia do? She couldn’t read the waters, control the winds, shape the earth or manipulate the fire. All she could do was stand there and watch as the creature began to move towards her, hungering for her energy and the sudden envy she had for her faerie kindred.
Under its shadow, Phantasia believed she was powerless to help anyone.
~ Cornered by vampiric envy! How can Phantasia possibly escape? ~
~ Next: The Inquisition! ~
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