Chapter 95 CHAPTER 95
The stares didn't stop when when I smelled less like… sex, and to my horrible luck, since the school time table was scattered, I ended up with Master Varak as the leading instructor today.
Where's Miss Tessa when you need her kind self?
All my bravado from earlier disappeared as I watched him watch me coming to class with that sadistic smirk on his face.
“Nice of you to join us, Ferguson. I was thinking you'd given up.”
“Not yet sir,” I mumbled as I joined Erin and the girls.
“Well let's see if we can get you to change your mind. Clinton, show Miss Ferguson here what she's missed after deliberately running from training.”
“I didn't –”
“Keep your excuses away from my ears, show us how strong you've gotten in your time away since you chose another form of training that's better than what we have to offer.”
I wanted to hurl insults at him directly now and not just in my head but the Clinton guy was way too eager to prove himself.
He came at me before I could properly set my stance, a blur of scaled arms and wild ambition.
I blocked the first strike with my forearm and the impact rattled my teeth. Did he even realize I was just recovering from a leech attack?
Oh, I realized startlingly, everyone thinks the Principal lied and I wasn't attacked by a leech.
That explained the irritation on Instructor Varak's face, he thought me a lying, cheating runaway.
But I couldn't stop everything to explain, my roommates had to hear me screaming before they believed me, so I launched back into the fight.
My body remembered the basics — guard up, feet apart, chin down — but remembering and executing were two completely different things when your muscles hadn't been used for anything but sex for the past few days.
Sex and healing, I reminded myself to taper down the guilt. Else, it felt like all of this was my fault.
He suddenly delivered a shocking strike that caught my ribs and I stumbled sideways, pain blooming where his fist connected.
"Move your feet, Ferguson!" Varak barked from the sideline, that disappointing face firmly in place. "Or are you waiting for someone to carry you as usual?"
Shame littered my line of sight and I suddenly became aware of the eyes on me.
The students were watching. All of them.
They weren't watching the fight, just me.
I could feel their eyes like heat on my skin and it took me back to those first days, the ones I'd fought tooth and nail to claw past so they'd stop looking at me like I was entertainment.
Amusement for their weary minds.
Yet here I was again, right back at the bottom, a weakling.
Clinton swung again and I ducked, barely, his knuckles grazing the top of my head.
I threw a punch back in a that was very sloppy and weak that he sidestepped it like I was playing with him.
I fell to ground with ease.
"Oh come on," someone muttered from the crowd and quiet laughter rippled through.
My chest burned with something that wasn't exertion.
Embarrassment and the urge to give in.
But Zade's voice suddenly echoed in my head, ‘You're more powerful than you know.’
But power doesn't mean shit when you can't land a single hit and everyone is watching you prove you don't belong here. The power inside of me was unrefined, only coming out when things are extreme. There was no extreme danger here, just students trying to get their muscles to work better and thus that power lay dormant while I got my ass handed to me.
Clinton grabbed my wrist and twisted, spinning me around until my back was against his chest and his arm was locked across my throat.
"Tap out," he said, his voice irritated. He found this too easy.
Clinton wasn't one of the best but he could give Kovar a run for his money so this was quite a let down for him if he was looking for an actual spar.
I was a weakling and he was tired of having to play on an uneven field.
But something in me refused.
Not because I could win, I couldn't, not like this, not today, but because tapping out in front of Varak meant hearing that voice declare me a loser again and I wasn't sure my pride could survive the same wound twice.
So I thrashed, drove my elbow back into his side and heard him grunt.
His grip loosened for half a second and I ripped free, spinning to face him with my fists up, panting, bleeding from a split lip I didn't even feel happen.
"Interesting," Varak drawled. "She has a pulse after all."
Clinton came again, faster, like he'd finally woken up, and this time his foot hooked behind my ankle and the ground rushed up to meet me.
I hit the dirt hard enough to lose my breath and my vision went white at the edges, my forehead hitting a sharp stone.
"Stay down, Ferguson," Varak called out, already turning away. "Clinton, good work. Next pair."
That was it.
No critique, no insult, no commentary.
Just dismissal, like I wasn't even worth the energy of mocking.
I lay there for three seconds too long, the sky above me too bright, my body aching in places that had nothing to do with the fight.
When I finally pulled myself up, sand in my hair and blood on my chin, the class had moved on. New fighters, new spectacle.
Erin caught my eye from the sideline, worry creasing her face, but I shook my head before she could come over.
I didn't want comfort. I didn't want pity.
My embarrassment was greater than my pain and all I wanted was to crawl deep into the mountain crust and fade away but since I couldn't have that, no need to worsen it by showing everyone that I was back to square one with Erin chasing my weak ass around to save me from my clammy self.
I found my way back to them, my body not healing as quickly as it used to.
My Chi maybe undead but I felt like my battery was charged to 26 percent.
Not enough for all the things this Academy required from me.
Zade needed to hurry up with that portal, I can't wait to go home.