Black Horse and Cherry Trees

[Cogidubnus]

A little something I wrote.

Black Horse and Cherry Trees
By Cogidubnus



January snows covered amber-hued streets, and played canvas to strange shadows cast by the soft glow of streetlights. It was early morning, and Aurora had not yet risen from her nightly slumber. This was no detriment to the students gathered in the darkness. It was almost always dark when they rose to greet the day, except for in late spring, when the sun rose before even the earliest riser. Today, they sat quietly, almost mournfully, in the dark.
In particular, there was one who sat quieter than the rest. His name was Jedediah, and he was all too aware of the anacronistic nature of his name. In his darker moments, he considered it a curse set upon him by his parents. In his better moments it was merely a bother. On his brightest days he admitted he had grown somewhat attached to it.
Very much unlike his name, Jed was rather nondescript in appearance: brown hair, green eyes, and pale skin. Brown, baggy pants, and brown shoes. A soft, brown leather belt held the ensamble together. A painfully bright Hawaiian shirt broke the monotony, although it too was mostly obscured by a thickly lined, black leather jacket used to fend off the cold. If one looked beyond his clothes, one would learn he was a bright student, a voracious reader, and had a particular penchant for debate. Unfortunately, the majority of his compatriots, were not...similarly driven. Thusly, he tended to brood far too much for his own good. Even at this moment, he was distant; busily engaged in sustaining the magefire that warmed the small group. His face, framed by the eldrich blue glow, looked almost alien.
The other students left him alone, if not apart. They knew that to disturb him during spell casting was to risk setting him off, usually into an hour long rant. Or, worse, it would cause him to screw up. The latter was a far more terrible fate, as a magical backfire usually meant a few weeks of letting your singed eyebrows grow back, if not the rest of your hair. Depending on severity, you might even find yourself in the emergency room. Very simply, most of them were just afraid: who knows what strange and fantastical powers those magi have? Most left him well alone.
The bus came down street at approximately 5 minutes till seven. The early hour of bus pickup had long been a dividing issue between faculty and students. The students, albeit more out of fatigue than principles, argued that tired students make poor students. The faculty argued that adversity built character. Thus far, the faculty, due, in part to their inherent, and some would claim, undeserved, authority, were winning. Despite the students protestations, the bus's brakes squealed impatiently to a stop at 6:55 sharp. Jedidiah extinguished the magefire in his palm with a flick of his wrist and lined up for the bus, shivering while he waited for the doors to open. Finally, he clambered up the grimy steps as a warm blast of air welcomed him into the bus, the blessed sanctuary between destinations. He paused for a moment, basking in the blessed, warm air from the heater, when a scratchy, mocking voice irritated his ear.
?C'mon Jed, lets hurry it up, now. Gotta git to the school before sunrise.?
The bus driver, Furthark, was a bastard who liked to torment the self-absorbed little mage, whom he considered an easy target for abuse. Every morning of every day, when Jed got into the bus, he repeated the same, old, tired phrase: 'Hurry up, Jed, got to get to school before sunrise'. How fast Jed got in the bus, or what time it was when he entered, did not matter. It was the same, every day. Jed studiously ignored him. Complaint, or, resistance wasn't worth the effort. Besides, ridiculing the faculty was a strictly after-hours business. This wasn't the bus's first stop, so Jed had some trouble finding an empty seat. He finally found one, and slumped into a seat midway down the aisle, disdainfully looking upon the kids still shuffling around on the rubber. His compatriots, socialites every one, sat in their seats as dictated by the relatively fine filter of popularity, the seats closer to the front of the bus being proportional to their relative popularity. Jed sometimes sat in the front just to spite them. Send him cold looks though they would, they made sure not to push the issue. It was hard to make yourself be rude to someone who could throw a fireball as easily as a cross word.
Finally, The last kid sat down, and the bus lurched forward. They were off towards school, each and every one ?eagerly? awaiting another ?fulfilling? day of education. Enthralled, Jed busied himself with studying the cherry trees that lined the road, each and every one kept eternally in bloom by magical stasis.
* * *

Jed's First Period was English III. After that, Algebra, then History. Now that was an interesting class. They were studying the History of the World, as recorded by the sage Yordin the Strange. Although as exciting as the drunken ramblings of a University educated hermit were, the real excitement was that next year they would read one of Yordin's greatest contemporaries, Reduk. Reduk, interestingly enough, was burned at the stake in 1540 for the crime of calculating angles, which, at that time, was considered a form of black magic.
After History was lunch, and then Magic II. It was his favorite class. Of course, taking it was a bittersweet blessing, as Politics was the core class immediately after it. He already heard far too much about politics in the news without having to study it. Listening to the idealized form of government spoon fed to him by government-sponsored propaganda was a lesson in patience more than anything. At least he could now spot a G-man at three blocks.
Although, in it's defense, he really didn't care much for any of his classes besides Magic II. He planned to major in Magic in College, and, after that, hoped to possibly qualify as Mage, perhaps, one day attaining Archmage status. But those were dreams, talking. He had to master magefire, first.
His morning classes passed without event. He got along reasonably well with his professors, although he had a vigorous disagreement with his his math professor a while back. Mr. Walters claimed that mathematics was the most potent force in the universe, for: mathematicians made the atomic bomb: mathematicians had made the military clockwork weaponry. Therefore, mathematicians rightly held the greatest power in the world. Somewhat incensed by the fat little man's self-indulgent ranting, Jed had conjured a ball of magelight, which was only intended to orbit the man's planet-sized ego, but managed to singe eyebrows and ignited his severely out of fashion, lengthy locks. The ensuing debacle had not only garnered him a two-week suspension, but would no doubt go down in Blackhorse history as the single greatest take-down of a faculty member in school history! Their new math teacher, Mr. Stevens, was a much calmer and levelheaded guy: As if in approval of the positive change, Jed calmly sat in the back and endured his lessons in quiet dignity.
History was a much calmer class. He took notes while listening to the re-counts of a well-respected madman and drunkard regurgitating tales of his youth, all disguised as history. He made sure to note the coming test, this Friday.
The days usually went by in such a manner. Unfortunately, such boredom inspired bliss was not to occur today. Today, the springs would snap. Today, something out of nightmares and cold-sweat dreams was to occur. The society that had shaped these children, molded young minds into small white shadows, placed them carefully and preciously into an established, ?approved? system, was about to reap what it sowed.
But first, lunch.
The student's daily allotment of grease, various fats, and carbs was reasonably well-disguised as tasty. The pizza, in fact, was especially good today, topped with small chunks of fried faerie, adding a slightly salty-sweet touch to the pie. A side of dragon tongue and potatoes au-gratin to top it off, and delicioso. Perfecto. Being a relatively spare eater, Jed got the pizza, and, not much else. He wasn't a big fan of fried fat anyway, no matter what the ?nutritionists? said.
Lest one get the wrong impression, one should know that Jed did have friends. Loner though he was, there was one group that let him hang out with them. Mostly, it was his classmates from Magic II, who respected his talent, or, more commonly, the lackeys of said classmates, diligently climbing the social ladder. Probably, even Jed didn't realize that he enjoyed their company. He simply ate his lunch, silently, and listened. As usual, their lunch time passed quickly, it's length being yet another, somewhat hot-button issue between students and faculty. A short speech from their esteemed leader, and then off to Magic II.
Jed walked though the halls, once more absorbed in himself, and preoccupied with the upcoming magic class, when it finally happened. A deafening boom, and then another, echoed though the hallway and into each of the rooms, like a series of bombs going off right next to your ear. It was the sound of an automatic Clockwork weapon, discharging its hail of death on full automatic fire. Unfortunately, Jed was unfamiliar with the operation of Clockwork weapons, having never seen an example of the outlawed device, and, thusly, he did the completely wrong thing. He turned around, continuing to stand straight and tall. What he saw across the hall would affect the rest of his life. A boy, aged about the same as him, was holding in his hands the largest piece of metal he had ever seen, and he was firing it indiscriminately through the crowded hallway. Jed stared at him, confounded by what he saw. A bullet, breaking the wall right next to him, sprayed shards of drywall into his face and shocked him back to his senses. Fortunately, Jed was a smart boy, and dropped to the ground and placed his hands over his head. Despite the muffling effect, the deafening sounds of the shots going off still managed to echo in his ears, and the sickening thump of bullets tearing flesh burned into his mind. He waited for what seemed like hours, until the shooting stopped. He looked up, and stared into the maw of Hell, itself.
Splatter pattens of blood covered the walls, and the thick, red syrup dripped down on the sickly green tile, newly coated in a hideous crimson. Bodies, some dead, other moaning pittifully, lended a macabre atmosphere to the nightmarish scene. Pools of blood slowly oozed over the distance between himself and the shooter. Jed recognized him, one of those strange Emo kids who listened to whiny music and talked about their feelings all the time. He had never personally talked to him, of course, but he had seen him hanging out with others of the Emo crowd. He had seemed like a nice guy, for all of the fishnet stockings, women's gloves and featureless, black clothing. The guy's head, which was normally crowned with a huge afro, was now bald and shiny. The clockwork piece he was holding, a Crehange 30mm, looked like the biggest piece of metal that Jed had ever seen. Something demonic lit the Emo kid's eyes, and, as Jed stared at him, horrified, their eyes met. The kid started to walk towards Jed, waiving his gun aggressively. Jed tried to scramble away, terrified, but the shooter just walked up to him, grabbed his hair and pulled him to his feet, jamming the gun in his face. The kid's face was twisted with rage, and, something else. Jed was suddenly certain that whatever this something else was, it was NOT sanity. He didn't look like he was firing on all cylinders.
?Going to escape back to your perfect, little life, are we?? he snarled sarcastically, ?Or, just wanting to pass on by? Gotta get to your little classes?? He was almost screaming at this point. Jed tried to look at nonthreatening as possible. However, his silence seemed to enrage the Emo Kid further.
?You're that quiet guy, aren't you? Always showing off and flaunting your insignificant magic powers. Well, screw you!? The gun was wavering in Jed's face, and Jed was getting a little worried about the how tightly the kid held to reality. The Emo Kid was just about to go on another rant when somebody moaned right next to them. The paranoid little shooter jumped and looked down, swinging the gun wildly as his eyes sought out the source. A second moan revealed that it was some girl, shot in the shoulder and bleeding profusely. She clutched her shoulder, while rocking gently, moaning in pain to herself. The shooter somehow managed to keep himself from shooting again, and looked back at Jed. His demonic little eyes gleamed.
?Get over here. GET OVER HERE!? He waved the clockwork wildly again, using a jabbing motion to get his point across. Jed, scared witless, stood where he indicated, about a foot away from the body of the girl.
?You like showing off your powers, eh? Like to make sure we all know how special you are?? He seemed to giggle as he talked. If he wasn't before, Jed was now certain that the Emo kid was completely off his rocker. The kid abruptly stopped giggling. His voice became quiet, measured, almost sane, ?Toast her.?
Jed looked at him in confusion, ?Huh??
?TOAST HER! BURN HER TO A FUCKING CRISP!? He screamed. His spit sprayed liberally, even dripping onto his shirt, but the clockwork was still dangerously close to Jed's face. Jed stepped back, raising his hands in a peaceful gesture.
?Whoa, Whoa. Okay, just...just...hold on...?
Jed looked down at the girl. He recognized her- it was Melissa, from Magic 3. She was possibly the most advanced Magic user in the school, and, probably, the only person in the school who Jed even moderately respected. She was still alive, whimpering from pain and shock. It was obvious that she would bleed out soon, if she didn't get help. He looked back up at the Emo kid, who looked like he was just about to snap, and, start shooting, again.
If was likely that he would be perfectly fine if he just killed Melissa. He would have the very best excuse in the world: he was scared. If he refused, he was going to be killed by a madman! It was, simply, self-preservation. The way she was bleeding, she was most likely going to die soon, anyway. Why die for somebody who was going to die anyway? He kept repeating these things to himself as he raised his hands.
Melissa opened her eyes, just barely staying out of shock, and moaned again as she recognized his intent. The pool of blood forming by her shoulder was rapidly growing larger, and her skin, paler by the second. She looked at Jed in utter helplessness, fear and a desperate longing to live in her eyes. Jed looked back up at the Emo kid. He could already see the bastard's finger tightening on the trigger.
?Today man. Toast her today. TOAST HER NOW! NOW!? He screamed, using his clockwork as punctuation. Jed looked down at Melissa one last time, and thought about all of his well planned excuses. And, finally, he realized, with exceptional clarity, he would NOT kill the girl. No matter how much the Emo kid threatened him, no matter how scared he was, no matter how much he was in danger of dying, no one could ever FORCE him to do ANY thing. It was HIS choice, that he was free to make. Even if it saved his life, HE would be killing Melissa. He was the one who had to make a choice. Right there, he made one. Calmly. Surely. He raised his hands and gathered his energy. As the eldrich forces responded to his call, he used the phrase that formed and focused the magic, and, then, at the last possible second, he raised his hands at the Emo Kid.
?WAVES OF FLAME!?
A sheet of flame erupted from Jed's hands. Blue fire that could melt flesh from bone. Aimed straight at the kid's head. The searing blast torched the Emo kid almost instantly, giving him a death that would be incredibly painful, a magefire induced torture that would take minutes to complete. His fiery doom was certain. Unfortunately for Jed, flames are not a shield. Before the horrendous pain made him drop the weapon, the Emo kid managed to fire off three shots, complements of the automatic nature of the clockwork. Bullets superheated by the fire from Jed's palms ripped through his body, leaving gaping hoes in his stomach and chest. Jed fell, his body slowly oozing life essence on the cold, hallway floor. He could not hear the screams inspired by his actions.

* * *

It was late April. A delicate spring breeze blew gently through the courtyard of Blackhorse school. The breeze carried with it a shower of cherry blossoms, framing the spring day in an almost picturesque light. Closed for almost three months for repair, there was now a new feature on the green: a bronzed statue of a medium height boy, nondescript, wearing baggy pants and a leather jacket. A single, small pedestal stood guard directly before it. Arranged before that, was a modest display of colorful flowers, and a small golden hued bowl that emitted a dancing, silver fire, the traditional tribute reserved for someone who had truly exemplified the spirit of a Mage.
At the moment, only one person stood in attendance. A solitary girl with her arm in a sling studied the inscription etched delicately on the pedestal. There was a memorial, of sorts, written there. She left reluctantly, it was obvious that this would not be her last visit.
Over the years, the statue has grown more and more weathered and aged, but, even, to this day, there sits a bowl of silver fire, and, on a tiny plaque upon the pedestal, an inscription that reads:

Whisper of this man to your children as they sleep,
and maybe we will learn that a Hero's a man who ACTS,
and proves he's free

[Arbiter]

A little something? This may take a while-----

[Maleficus8953]

ya its pretty good....
heehee, much better than my own..
if there are some people here who have not read it, please do, i think yall would find it interesting :banana: :banana: :bananarock: :bananarock:

[DarkEclipse]

Wow. That was really good...

I take it it's inspired by all the school shootings that've been happened lately?

[Maleficus8953]

:bananarock: :bananarock:

[DarkEclipse]

Originally posted by Maleficus8953
:bananarock: :bananarock:

Indeed.

[Cogidubnus]

Well, that, and a general dislike of emo.

It's more than just about school shootings. It's about being free - and what you do with it.