Mizuki jumped into action, her hands flying forward, shooting a bst of controlled fire from them, which broke the desk in two, then continued onward, right at Acard. Before fire met fists, a women moved between them, her movements swift and precise. She hit Mizuki in the shoulder in a way that sent her stumbling awkwardly.

  Acard, on the other hand, wasn’t dealt with so kindly. The women palm-struck him in the chest with such precision and force that it made him grunt and slide backward, hitting the wall, and falling to the ground.

  Ah, sweet, poetic justice, Vincent thought.

  Acard growled, rubbing his chest as he gred up at the woman. She had raven hair tied into a long and thick braid that fell below her waist, a stark contrast to her pale skin and pointy ears that reminded Vincent elves in fantasy stories. Her catlike green eyes gred at Acard as if he was a bitter enemy. While the woman wasn’t very tall, she had a toned body with a small bust and she stood with a powerful grace.

  “What makes you think you have the right to throw school property at a fellow student?” the woman asked Acard, her eyes dangerous and unblinking.

  “She was the one that broke and burned the desk with her fire,” Acard said, moving to a knee, and rubbing his chest.

  “Huh,” the woman said with a tilt of her head. She then kicked him square in the chest, knocking him back with a solid grunt. She moved on him, pressing the heel of her foot down on his neck, pinning him down. “I did not say you could get up yet, boy.”

  He pced trembling hands against her foot to try and ease the pressure. “Okay, okay. I got it,” he gasped. “I won’t get up.”

  She narrowed her feline eyes, which is when Vincent noticed a purple crescent moon shape under her right eye that reminded him of warpaint. Either that or some sort of birthmark, or a tattoo?

  “You won’t move, either,” she said, putting pressure on his neck. “Unless I say so.”

  Acard grimaced but didn’t move.

  She smiled. “Good dog.”

  Acard flinched at the word, not moving a muscle, just kept his alert eyes on hers, looking like he was struggling to breath but doing as commanded.

  “What happened here?” the woman asked, turning her head to Mizuki.

  Mizuki shrugged. “Just a little disagreement between peers.”

  “I see,” the woman said, easing off Acard, her eyes steady and strong. When her foot was removed, there was a red indent of her shoe on his neck that he rubbed. “So what you’re saying is you were defending yourself from an unprovoked attack?”

  Mizuki nodded. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “That is so not what happened, you” –

  The woman spun on him, hissing. “You don’t speak unless spoken to, mutt.” Acard flinched, raising his arms out of reflex. “Now,” she said motioning to his desk. “I want you to sit.”

  He quietly picked himself up, his eyes holding back his anger as he gred at Mizuki, then took his seat without protest. The women watched him with a small smile. “Good dog.”

  She held her eyes on him like a curious cat watching its prey before striking. “The rest of you, take your seats.” While it wasn’t as cold as it was toward Acard, it wasn’t friendly either.

  She moved to the front of css, her hands behind her back. “I don’t care to know your names,” she said, pacing back and forth as if in some sort of military camp. “Nor do I care that you know mine. But tradition dictates that I give you my name and title, so I will give it only once, as I don’t like to repeat myself.” She spun on her heel, standing at attention. “I am Tania Eln, which if you didn’t realize yet,” she said with a bit of sarcasm, gncing at Vincent, “I am an elven. I am also a teacher at Crescent Academy. Disrespect me and my instructions, and I will end you.” Her eyes fell on Alcard with a sparkle, and he cowered.

  Her outfit, much like her demeanor, was bck. A military-styled dress, pantyhose, knee-high boots with white ces, and a jacket over the top – all tight and trim. She held herself, talked, and moved in a way that made Vincent think she was perhaps some sort of military officer recruited to help keep students in line.

  Acard, like the idiot he was, spoke. “You can’t just threaten students, you know?”

  Tania spun to him, her hand moving in a swift motion to the side of her dress and under her skirt, brandishing a knife from out of seemingly nowhere, then flicked it at him with deft precision. It flew forward, whipping and nicking him across the cheek, making him wince with wide-eyed surprise as he looked down at the fresh wound. The knife wedged into the wall with a heavy thud.

  Acard wiped the blood from his cheek and jumped out of his seat, staring at the blood on his fingers. He gred at Tania Eln, growling. “Are you crazy, dy?” He really was a fool.

  She pointed her index finger at him, speaking with a commanding voice. “The only crazy thing, boy, is your btant disregard to listen when someone is speaking.” She stepped forward, her cold eyes on him. “You will speak when spoken to. Answer when asked. Listen and obey.” She took another step as if wanting Acard to do something to give her a reason to take him out. “Got it?” She tilted her head, her icy eyes held on him.

  Acard looked like he didn’t care at this point, and was ready to defend himself, if necessary, his eyes filled with anger.

  Just comply, dude, Vincent thought as he watched the scene unfold. At the same time, he didn’t mind seeing this happen to Acard.

  “You freaking throw a knife at me and you expect me to listen to you?” Acard scoffed and motioned to the knife. “You must have some kind of screw loose if you think I’ll comply to a nut bag like you.”

  She dashed at him, snapping her hand forward and snatching him by the neck in a swift and powerful motion, and lifting him from the ground as if he was as light as a feather. He let out a choking noise as he was gagged. He kicked and scratched at her hand to break free but she only squeezed down harder. “Silence, you wretch,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her catlike stare as deadly as her grip.

  Again, Vincent felt a little jolt of glee seeing Acard get punked like this. At the same time, though, this teacher was kinda crazy, and part of him felt a little bad for Acard.

  He kicked and thrashed against her, but she held hard until he lowered his hands and didn’t fight anymore. She let him go, and he fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for air.

  “Now that that’s settled,” she said, staring at the back of his head for a long moment as if waiting for him to look at her. He didn’t. She looked pleased with that. “Take your seat, dog.”

  He did, keeping his head down like a punished pup.

  “One of the things you will learn in my css,” she said, retrieving the knife from wall, twirling it in her fingers. “Is how to properly use a knife.” With a sleight of hand movement, she returned it to a holster on her upper thigh. “If you prove your worth, I will provide you an opportunity to learn Bijinsei.”

  Vincent raised his hand.

  She nodded to him, and so he asked his question.

  “What’s Bijinsei?”

  “An elven martial art,” she said, stepping toward him, her eyes narrowing. “I take it you’re the newbie?”

  She didn’t care to know their names, but she knew he was a newbie? Great!

  “Yes, ma’am, I am,” Vincent said.

  “You will address me as teacher, or sir,” she said, correcting him.

  “Yes, teacher.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Well, even the newbie, while a dog, has better manners than you, mutt.” She gred at Acard. “I guess it’s true what they say about not being able to teach dumb mutts new tricks.”

  Acard’s jaw was tense as he looked like he was ready to pounce. He didn’t do or say anything, apparently learning his lesson.

  She paced in front of the room again, hands behind back. “In this css, I will teach, and you will learn. I do not repeat myself, so do not ask for crification. Do we understand each other?”

  They all nodded. Even Alexander was paying attention, but it was sort of an admiring-her-energy attention. Vincent gnced back at Acard, hiding a snicker as he saw him nursing his neck which had red marks from Tania’s fingers. Were elven really that strong, or was it the difference between an adult supernatural versus a teenage one?

  She stopped and stood at attention, nodding. “That is all for today. If you like, you can go home early as it is the end of the day. Our next session will be held at the training range. On time is te, and early is on time. Good day.” She gnced around the room again, meeting each of their eyes, holding her stare on Acard longer than the rest of them, then swiftly made her exit.

  Acard watched her leave, gring the whole time. Once she was gone, he grimaced as he touched and moved his neck gingerly. “What a freak.”

  “She seemed perfectly fine to me,” Vincent said.

  “Whatever,” Acard said, scowling. “What do you know?”

  “I know Tania Eln’s css will be fun without you interrupting all the time,” Vincent said.

  “You wanna go another round of my fist to your face, chump?”

  For the first time Vincent didn’t really care to respond. He had this urge to just get up and walk, clear his mind of things.

  Alexander, though, couldn’t help himself and let out a little chuckle.

  “What are you ughing at, wizard boy?” said Acard.

  “Nothing,” Alexander said, doing his best to hold back, but he just leaned back and continued to ugh. “Nothing at all. But it is entertaining that you care so much.”

  Acard scoffed and frowned.

  Vincent took a stand and made his way to leave the room.

  “Hey, I’m not done talking to you,” Acard yelled after him, but Vincent ignored him and just left without a word.

  .   .   .

  Vincent paced down the halls, feeling his heartbeat thudding against his chest as he didn’t know what was going on. Something was pulling him, urging him to just go outside and run around, so he did that. He burst out the doors and made his way to the field that had a track on it and just ran to his heart’s content.

  After sprinting four ps nonstop, he fell back in a patch of grass and looked up at the sky, ughing to himself like a crazy person. He didn’t know what was happening, but just thought it had something to with his changing ways, and oh, being a werewolf. Hopefully things would change for the better, but he had a sinking feeling that it wouldn’t be an easy, nor a smooth, change.

  As st css bell rang, signifying the end of day, he jumped to his feet and ran his way to home, dreading the thought of having that recurring dream again and what to do about it.

  .   .   .