Emotionless (The Emotionless Book 1) Page 3

  My heart was in my throat. My arm shook when I raised it, but my veins burned a brilliant white. I was about to say the words when a light tap came from the door. My eyes widened when suddenly the door exploded inwards. I ducked in the nick of time before the table that was against the door flew up and across the room only to shatter the windows that were behind me.

  “Finally, Mika . . . Oh, who the heck are you?” he demanded.

  This must be Timothy.

  Pale blond hair illuminated by his veins and staff. The staff had a crystal atop of it that burned a white in colour. Timothy looked slightly pasty and very scrawny, but tall. His dark brown eyes looked me up and down. He looked kind of confused and a little annoyed.

  “Girl, when I saw you run up the stairs, I thought you were Mika. State your name, now,” he demanded.

  “My name is Eileen Frost, from the Highborn Frost family, Sir,” I answered swiftly.

  If my mother taught me anything, it was that to always respond when spoken to. Even the slightest hints of hesitation could aggravate the nicest of mages. Who knows what would happen if I hesitated to answer to this mad mage?

  “Frost, eh?” Timothy chuckled. “You are the Heir. The mage that could potentially rule over us at the Organisation when you are older, right?”

  “It is possible,” I agreed.

  “What are you, like ten now? Just a kid.”

  “Eleven, I answered, but you were close enough.”

  “You don’t talk like an eleven-year-old. Heck, when I see you on television, you don’t even walk or look like you’re eleven. You always had that blank, and boring look like you hated everything and everyone.”

  “I was in character,” I tried to defend myself. “I apologise if that is how you perceived how I looked.”

  “Character? Wait, so you smile and crap when you aren’t on television and stuff?” I nodded in agreement. “Huh, that’s a shame. That’s what I liked about you. I thought you had no feelings . . . I thought you were like me, away. I was even rooting for you to win and rule over us, but if that is just a façade, I don’t know anymore. I hate fake people. Like Mika, for instance. I have kept him alive, so I could play with my food. He is all smiles and a happy kid, but I know he hates every mage. You can’t still love people after you have been cursed. So, I wonder . . . I wonder about you now.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Well, now I wonder if I curse you, would you start to think people are boring if all you could express was a blank canvas.”

  “I don’t know what you mean, but if you let me go, my parents will pay you handsomely.”

  “I don’t care about that. I’m going to win A Mages War soon and gain a wish. But before that, I want to do something about you. I hate fake people, so I am going to fix you.”

  Fix?

  He raised his staff and directed it at me. The crystal throbbed and white light shun from the end of it. I then raised my arm and veins crept their way to the surface. I had to work fast, for he was working quickly to harm me.

  “I summon thy Guardian!” I shouted.

  “I curse Eileen Frost to become Emotionless.”

  A spark of pain shot through, in the centre of my forehead. My head flicked back from the sudden knockback and spread. As I began to fall, golden light shined through the summoning rune. When I fell onto the cold hard ground, darkness swept through me before I could see anything at all.

  Did it work, or am I dying?

  Life Being Banished.

  Golden light shined, specs of it glimmered down like dust when the golden light spread like wings. Wings flourished, spread and extended and flapped like they were flying, tantalising in a way, beautiful and enchanting. I went to reach for the golden wings, my arm came into focus when I reached up, and my fingertips twitched when I moved closer to the golden wings that flapped before me.

  When I was close to the wings, I felt this warmth. It was like basking in the summer sun. The heat resonated upon my skin and this unyielding energy thrived and burned into this imaginary existence.

  The feathers of the golden wings were fluffed, and they looked soft to touch. I know that when I touch them, they would feel soft. They shined, and every single wing had a different design on them. I have never seen anything like it in my life. Therefore, I doubt I will ever forget looking at them.

  Fingertips dipped in golden flakes that fell from the wings. They zapped like static and unimaginable power surged through and into my veins. I gasped with delight when this feeling swelled inside of me. It was birthing a new sense of energy I have never touched before.

  Eager to touch, when my fingers did brush against the feathers, they felt like steel. A sudden drop of temperature crushed my insides, and when I shuddered, it felt like it was about to break my ribs. The golden light faded, and the golden wings vanished. What I was left with was this bitter darkness with no sense of light. There was nothing but the coldness of winter.

  And then I woke up.

  My throat tightened and chest tensed. Pain crushed me when I tried to gasp. It was only for a moment, and then I relaxed the slightest.

  Slowly, my eyes opened. Dull light seeped through the window that was beside the bed. I shuffled until I was sitting up, and then I gazed out at white light. Snow floated down from the sky and filled this world and made it look like a winter wonderland. Even knowing it was early morning, I could hear the snowplough truck doing its rounds, like it always does, to clear the roads from the freshly fallen snow.

  Now out of bed, the sheets moved by themselves and tucked themselves in so that the bed was made. When I reached for the phone on the dresser, pillows, fluffed, plopped down beside each other on the double bed. After I grabbed my phone, I ducked the slightest at the canopy, mesh curtains that flowed down.

  By the look of the time on my phone, there was no time to actually have a nice warm shower to start the day. I woke late once again and so I had to rush the fastest that I could to get ready for school. And by rush, I mean gradually walk places, like always.

  Inside of my wardrobe, I took the coat-hanger off the long-sleeved winter dress, checker navy blue and red design that had the cotton feel. I wrapped that across my body and then took out the black fleece stockings from the drawer as well as the navy-blue beanie and fingerless gloves. As much as Silas disapproves of my fashion sense, I needed the magic of my fingertips to survive the day of school. If I didn’t, I would be utterly bored with nothing to do. This way, strangely enough, it keeps me out of trouble… most of the time.

  Once I dressed, I stepped into the leather shoes and waited a moment for the shoelaces to tie themselves. When both my feet felt like they were tight and restraint, I turned to the mirror that hung on the door and wished that I could glare, but instead, I stared blankly at the marking.

  The marking was in the middle of my forehead. It looked beautiful. Most curse marks do look beautiful. The design was quite striking and mesmerising. Wherever someone has been cursed, the same design that marks a curse flourishes on their body. Mine so happened to be imprinted in a place that is rather difficult to hide. No amount of make-up will conceal it, for it throbs a deep red colour until the magic breaks. The design has a small, one-centimetre thick dot in the centre of this looped, curved design that, if I am honest, looks like a deconstructed butterfly design. It was distracting to look at, and not in the right way.

  Five years ago, from tomorrow, it would be, was when I was cursed. Ever since that day, I have to look at this mark that will never fade away. It has always been known that a curse is for life, and no amount of magic could break one. That’s why it was against the law to strike someone with a curse and all magic to learn curses have been banned long ago. However, a mage in A Mages War would not be in trouble if they placed a curse upon another mage. An Ordinary-Human was beside the point. Any magic towards an Ordinary-Human was illegal. Every mage knows that. But, if one interferes in A Mages War, that is something to be frowned upon amongst other mages. I should know
that by now.

  Outside of my bedroom, the house was already alive, in the way of two diabolical brothers have awoken and wreaked havoc. In the room across from mine, the door was open a peep. No light was on, but through the darkness, I saw flashes of yellow light. Within that light was two mages. One stirred the cauldron and had a deep throaty laugh as he spun the spatula – I believe was a kitchen utensil. I think we used that very spatula for pasta three nights ago.

  Smoke lingered out through the crack and seeped through underneath the door. Another flash of yellow light sparked from within, and another mage had their hands raised and barked a laugh that could only be distinguished as pure evil.

  I don’t know what they are cooking in that cauldron, nor do I want to know why they were acting like warlocks. Instead, I decided to leave the hallway and go down the rainbow stairs and avoid such tedious altercations.

  With every step that I took, the stairs lit up a colour that always reminded me of spring. They danced with bursting orange, green, blue, pink, purple, and any shade of them as well. However, the reason they were placed here was not that it gave the house colour. Nixon was afraid of the golem that lived underneath them, because he always grabbed hold of his ankle. Now that the stairs were in place and lit up, the golem shied away most of the time so that it wouldn’t burn. The reason the golem still lived underneath the staircase was that I keep feeding it lollies. No one else cared aside from Nixon, anyways. It doesn’t bother anyone else; therefore, Silas announced that it could stay.

  Down the stairs, at the bottom was the door to the library that was always closed and locked. White chains throbbed and were unbreakable. That was Mother’s and Father’s locked chamber of forbidden books. Unlike our last house that we lived in, my parents had enough room for their own library – unlike the rest of the family’s library, which was upstairs near Silas’s room.

  Ignoring the magical chains and the library, I went past the parents’ room, which was bare and untouched, and to the kitchen. Inside, Silas was at the dining table reading the newspaper. Beside him was a cup of Ordinary-Human coffee. It had a dense bitter smell that always makes me want to sneeze.

  I sat across from him. Once I was in my seat, a plate with a rune lit up and activated underneath it and settled down before me. Then the plate and knife and fork set clinked against the glass table beside the plate. I nodded my acknowledgements and stared at the salty, crisp bacon and scrambled herbed eggs. Ignoring the knife and fork, I used my fingers to tear the bacon and pop pieces in my mouth. Across from me, Silas glanced up, gave a disgusted look and then looked back down at the newspaper he was reading.

  “Eileen, you are late for breakfast this morning. Usually, you are here before me,” Silas observed.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “I woke late.”

  He looked up again from the paper to gauge my expression. He tends to do that a lot in the hopes that he could read anything from it. When all I did was just stare at him blankly, he looked away once again and straightened up.

  “Where’s your twin brothers?”

  “Being diabolical,” I murmured.

  Silas folded the paper up and stood abruptly from his seat.

  “I knew it! They are trying to prank me again.” They usually are. “I need to prepare. Lock my bedroom door and the bathroom I use so that nothing explodes… or a hairy monster comes out of the drain and tries to eat my hair! Nope. Not going to happen.”

  It probably would. As much as I wanted to tell Silas that it would be alright, he needed this process. He needed to freak out and go through anxiety and fear to be confident enough to leave the house. If he doesn’t, he panics the whole entire time. I always see him jump at lunchtime at school, or glare with utter hate at Donte and Nixon every time he sees them. He has also jumped out of his desk a few times and pet the seat and inspected it in front of the entire class. The boys at school know him as weird, and the girls at school know Silas as sexy. I guess our odd features do stand out a lot at a regular Ordinary-Human school: high cheekbones, slender looks, beautiful sliver eyes, brown hair that shines gold in the sunlight. My family is most definitely different. We look superior even to some Lowborns. We look like gods and goddesses – or aliens to some.

  By the time I finished breakfast and was heading out the door, I could hear Donte and Nixon rushing down the staircase. Instead of wait for them – for I knew they would catch up much more quickly than I would if I were to wait – I headed out the door by myself.

  The bus stop is at the end of our street. We live in a cul-de-sac, and in the centre, at the top of the road. The front door closed by itself and the gate of the front yard creaked and opened itself before I walked out. Fingers grew cold, so as I walked to the bus stop, I took out my gloves and slipped them on. When I slid the right glove on, I noticed the distinct black gem before the glove went over it and hid it from sight. I then tugged the beanie on.

  Winter was the only time of year that hides my curse mark from plain sight. I could wear a cap, but I never liked them and find them irritating, especially when I sweat. I’d rather reveal my insecurity instead of wearing something that makes me uncomfortable.

  Jagged and sharp splinters of ice covered the seat of the bus stop. Sleek ice, sheen and bright sparkled in the dull throb of white light. Underneath the cover of the bus stop, I looked out and at the snow that fell at a gradual pace. Across the street of the bus stop was that elderly woman again. I could see her through the window. Whenever I come to the bus stop, she peels the floral curtain back to peep through and watch me. Her actions wouldn’t bother me that much if she didn’t have a cross hanging on her door and a sign on her gate that says, ‘Witches and Wizards are forbidden to cross.’ However, she has a right to her own place.

  Some Ordinary-Humans aren’t as accepting of mages and believe we are ‘The Devils Workers.’ Which is not true. Mages love all of life. Our magic was birthed from life and love. We want nothing more but to save this world – Aside from once a year, where we have A Mages War. However, A Mages War has been forbidden to use in the Ordinary-Human world. We have exclusive areas where the mages are allowed to go.

  The elderly woman closed the curtain right before the bus stopped before me. She usually stops gawking once she knows that I am leaving. Perhaps she assumes that once I am out of the vicinity, I cannot curse her lands, or place a hex on her, or something rather dramatic and drastic Ordinary-Humans think of to pass the time. I bet that when her flowers wilt, she blames it on my family.

  Doors to the bus squeaked when they opened. The man that drives the bus looked me up and down, like usual. Every time he does that, it makes me believe he has some sort of amnesia and doesn’t remember seeing me every time I enter the bus. He did smile and waved me away when I flashed him my student I.D card.

  When I shuffled into one of the seats in the middle row, I looked out the window and at two halfwits that rushed down the street. They waved enthusiastically in the hopes the bus wouldn’t drive off. I believe the bus driver knows by now to wait because Donte and Nixon are always late. They stumbled on the bus and both with the same thought concept, they brushed each other’s hair to get rid of the fallen snow.

  Donte and Nixon and I shared the same womb. That doesn’t mean we are exactly the same. In fact, we have never been close at all that I could remember. And since my curse, we have drifted further away, but I guess that could be for the fact that I cannot express how annoying they are without it sounding rather bland. I tend to detach myself from them, and we have lived like that for a very long time.

  We also don’t look anything alike. Donte and Nixon have dark brown hair and dark eyes, like my father. That was one of the reasons as to why they would never be the heir to the Frost family. The other part was because they are diabolical and enjoy playing pranks on anyone. If they were the heir, they would ruin our name within one interview.

  I looked away when they noticed me and waved. Annoyed by their enthusiasm, I stared back outside the window and wat
ched the sheen white features blur.

  The trip to the school was not that long. In summer I do enjoy walking to and from school. I liked how peaceful and quiet it was compared to the school bus. Right now, I wished I could use magic to zip everyone’s lips shut, or warp my protective bubble around me to protect me from teenagers that were throwing food around and bumping into me. They were arrogant and loud and full of themselves. They reminded me of my brothers, and I did not enjoy being around them longer than a few minutes.

  When the bus stopped right outside of the school, I stayed seated until everyone filed out. I left after everyone else, the bus driver smiled weakly as I walked out. Now I believe he takes pity on me. I’m not sure which one is better. The fact that he cannot remember me, or that he does and he feels sorry for me.

  I dislike the school crowds. I hate being noticed. I hate being obviously stared at or talked about when my back is turned. So, being at school was a massive problem for me. Especially for the fact that I was at an Ordinary-Human school. They watched, they gawked, they whispered and looked at me with disgust. It was hard to focus on schoolwork knowing I have been observed. With awe or hate, either was nauseating.

  There was still ten minutes before class starts. Fortunately for me, I didn’t have any classes with my brothers. At least the principle was smart enough to keep us apart. Even knowing his reasons were that he was afraid we would cheat by casting a spell of some sorts, little does he know that we can do that without being in the same class.

  Backpack slung onto the back of my chair, I placed my books neatly on the table along with my pen and sat down until class started.

  While I waited, I took out my phone and went on the rune designing app. For some time, I have been creating my own app to gain more money – not like I need any. It was a good source of income. I design my own runes and place them on the app that I have created. Whoever wants the rune would have to pay me money for the actual design of the rune to appear. If they don’t, all there would be is a description of what the rune is and how it works.