I- the fight

Violet looked around. She was glad to have this small space in the Novice's Dorms. A simple room, not much in the way of funiture. Simple bed. Simple dresser. Simple, grey walls. Nice, simple, and basic. There was no point in doing anything to make it nicer, more fancy, as the other Novices did. They would just ruin it on her anyway.

 

Violet looked on the tiny table beside the mid-sized bed, the one with the mirror top. She grabbed the deep, dark purple orb off it. Kneeling down on both knees, she opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the photo album.

 

"That's right, scum. Get on your knees, like you did when you lived where you belong: the slums," came a voice from the hallway. Without looking up, Violet sent a pulse of power, too unfocused to be called a Strike, through the open doorway. She heard a grunt, and heard the air get forced out of his chest from where she knelt.

 

"Is there something you want, Albus?" Carelessly, she leafed through the photos, looking at the cheap paintings of her 'family', the members of the gang who took her in when the King sent his men to kill criminals in the Outer City. The old fool wasn't aware of the mistake he made, sending men after Violet's family, kind people who mended the clothes of people in the Inner West Quarter. The men who didn't return to the King were the first to learn of Violet's magical power.

 

She heard him gasp, and slightly lessened the force that she was using to pin him to the wall opposite her doorway. She returned the photo album to its place in the drawer, and stood. Her grey Novice's robes fell over her bare toes, hiding her feet from view. Holding the orb in her left hand, she walked out to the doorway, standing only a few feet from him, yet so far out of his reach.

 

"When are you going to get it into your head that I'm stronger than you? I'm a Natural, Albus, like the High Magician," Violet both spoke and thought the words at him, making sure she thought loud enough for everyone in the Dorm to hear.

 

- You're scum! You're nothing like the High Magician! You're not even a Noble!

 

A crowd was begining to fill the hallway, drawn by the mental shouting. "Then how does it feel to be weaker than scum? To be less than someone who isn't a Noble?"

 

- You're going to pay, Violet. I'll make you pay myself. His mental words were hardened by hatred, and dripped with venom.

 

Violet looked at him, flashed a look at the crowd, then returned her eyes to Albus. "Who would have thought I'd live to see the day a Noble did anything himself? I'd love to see you try though."

Suddenly the crowd of Novices devided in two, as a red robed figure, with a black star on either shoulder, strode towards them. Violet froze as Lord Abel, the High Warrior, stopped to watch the two Novices.

 

Lord Abel looked lazily from Violet, to Albus, and back. As neither of them moved or spoke, he sighed. "Albus, I believe you said you were going to make her 'pay'? Don't stop fighting on my account, just pretend I'm not standing here, and you two aren't breaking the law. Go on," Abel's voice was musical and light, despite his large body and imposing stature, yet his eyes were cold and hard.

 

Unsure what to do, Violet released Albus, and bowed hastily to the old Magacian. The other Novices followed suite.

 

Looking pleased with himself, Lord Abel nodded to the Novice's. "Violet, Albus? Come with me."

 

Sighing, and giving each other withering looks, the two followed the old man down the corridor.

Author's Note

pardon spelling, please. :)