The next day started much the same. Clara woke up with a knot of dread in her stomach, and no amount of dramatic outfit-choosing could make it better.
"Do we have to go back?" She asked Kael as they got ready.
"Yes." He said simply.
"But they hate us there."
"They hate us here too." Kael pointed out, gesturing vaguely at the orphanage. "We're just more visible there."
Clara couldn't argue with that logic, even though she wanted to.
The walk to school felt even longer than yesterday. Every step was heavy, filled with reluctance. Clara kept hoping something would happen—maybe the school would be closed, or they'd get sick, or literally anything that would give them an excuse not to go.
But nothing happened. And soon they were walking through those gates again, entering that hostile territory.
The stares started immediately. But today, they felt different. More intense. More… expectant.
Something was going to happen. Clara could feel it in the air, that electric tension that made her skin prickle.
"Kael." She whispered. "Maybe we should just skip class. Hide somewhere until—"
"No." He said firmly. "We can't let them control our actions with fear."
"But—"
"If we run now, they win. And tomorrow will be worse."
Clara wanted to argue, but again, he was right. Running would only make things worse.
So they went to class.
The morning passed without incident, though the whispers were worse than yesterday. Clara caught snippets of conversations—
"…going to do something…"
"…after school…"
"…teach them…"
Each one made her stomach twist tighter.
By lunch time, Clara could barely eat. She just pushed her food around on her tray, her appetite completely gone.
"You're thinking too loud again." Kael observed.
"Can you blame me?" Clara shot back. "Everyone's planning something. Can't you feel it?"
"Yes." Kael said calmly. "But worrying about it won't change anything."
"How can you be so calm?" Clara asked, frustration seeping into her voice.
Kael thought about this. "Because being afraid doesn't help. Whatever happens will happen. We'll deal with it then."
Clara wished she could think like that. But she wasn't built that way. She felt everything—the fear, the anxiety, the dread. It all churned inside her, making it hard to breathe.
The afternoon classes crawled by. Clara kept glancing at the clock, watching the minutes tick down to the final bell.
Part of her wanted it to come quickly, just to get whatever was coming over with.
Part of her wanted time to stop entirely, to freeze them in this moment before things got worse.
When the bell finally rang, Clara's whole body tensed.
"Kael." She whispered. "Maybe we should leave through a different exit—"
But it was too late.
The same group from yesterday was already blocking the doorway. But this time, there were more of them. At least ten students, all wearing the same hostile expressions.
And Marcus, their leader, was grinning.
"Ready for round two?" He asked, cracking his knuckles.
Clara felt her blood run cold.
This was going to be bad.
"Please." Clara said, trying to keep her voice steady. "We don't want any trouble. Just let us pass."
"Oh, but we do want trouble." Marcus said, his grin widening. "See, yesterday you made me look bad in front of my friends. And I don't like looking bad."
"You made yourself look bad." Kael said flatly.
The grin dropped from Marcus's face. "What did you say?"
"You heard me." Kael responded, his tone completely neutral. "Your actions are your own responsibility."
Marcus's face flushed red with anger. "You really think you're something special, don't you? Just because you survived that… that thing at your old school."
Clara's heart skipped. How did he know about the creature?
"We know all about it." Another student said, as if reading her mind. "My dad's a police officer. He told me everything."
"The whole city knows." A girl added. "You two are famous. The otherworlders who survived the massacre."
Clara felt like she'd been punched in the gut. The whole city knew? Everyone?
No wonder everyone hated them. No wonder they were treated like monsters.
"That term again what did it mean?" Thought Kael.
"We didn't do anything wrong." She said weakly, but even to her own ears it sounded unconvincing.
"Sure you didn't." Marcus sneered. "That's why everyone else died and you two walked out without a scratch."
"I was injured!" Clara protested. "Kael almost died!"
"Almost doesn't count." The red-haired boy said. "You're still here. They're not."
Kael hadn't reacted to any of this. He just stood there, calm and unbothered, watching them with those empty eyes.
And that, more than anything, seemed to enrage them.
"Say something!" Marcus shouted, shoving Kael hard. "Show some emotion! Be human for once!"
Kael stumbled back a step but his expression never changed. "No." He said simply.
"No?" Marcus repeated, his voice dangerously quiet.
"I don't take orders from you." Kael clarified.
That was the last straw.
Marcus pulled his fist back, putting all his weight behind it. "Fine! If you won't show emotion, maybe I'll beat it out of you!"
The punch came fast, aimed directly at Kael's face. Clara screamed, reaching out to help, to do something—
But then—
"Move right."
The voice was clear, commanding. Kael's head jerked to the side, his body following without conscious thought. He shifted right, and Marcus's fist sailed past his face by mere inches.
Kael blinked, stunned. That voice—it had been so clear. So certain. And his body had just… listened.
Marcus stumbled forward from the momentum, nearly falling. He caught himself, spinning around with fury in his eyes.
"How did you—" He threw another punch.
"Duck."
Kael dropped low, and the fist passed over his head.
"What the—" Another punch.
"Left."
Kael moved left.
Clara stood frozen, her mouth hanging open in shock. Kael was dodging every hit. Every single one. His movements were minimal, efficient, like he knew exactly where each punch would be before it came.
"How are you doing that?!" Marcus screamed, trying again and again. But Kael kept dodging, his expression shifting from blank to confused to… something else. Something like wonder.
The voice in his head—it was guiding him. Telling him where to move, when to move. And his body was responding perfectly, without hesitation.
But how? How was this possible?
The red-haired boy stepped forward, his face twisted with anger. "He's just getting lucky! Let me show you how it's done!"
He closed his eyes, and Clara felt a shift in the air. Power gathered around him, visible as a faint blue glow that covered his entire body.
"He's using an ability!" Clara shouted, her voice panicked.
The boy's eyes snapped open, now glowing with that same blue light. He grinned. "Let's see you dodge this."
And then he moved.
He was fast—impossibly fast. Much faster than any normal person should be. Kael didn't have time to react, didn't hear the voice. The glowing fist connected with his stomach before he could blink.
"Kael!" Clara screamed.
The impact sent Kael flying backwards. He hit the ground hard, sliding several feet before coming to a stop. He gasped for air, clutching his stomach where the punch had landed.
"Kael!" Clara ran toward him, dropping to her knees beside him. "Are you okay?"
He couldn't answer, still trying to catch his breath. The pain was intense, radiating from his stomach through his entire body.
The red-haired boy stood over them, his body still glowing. "Not so tough now, are you?" He pulled his fist back, preparing to strike again.
Clara threw herself over Kael protectively. "Stop! Please!"
But the boy didn't stop. His fist came down—
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!"
Everyone froze.
A teacher stormed into the classroom, his face red with fury. He was tall, with gray hair and stern eyes that took in the scene immediately—Kael on the ground, Clara crying over him, the group of students with the red-haired boy's fist still glowing.
"All of you!" The teacher's voice boomed. "Principal's office! NOW!"
"But sir—" Marcus started.
"I don't want to hear it! I saw what happened!" The teacher's eyes blazed. "Using oaths to assault other students? Do you have any idea how serious this is?"
The red-haired boy's glow faded quickly, his face going pale. "I… I didn't mean…"
"NOW!" The teacher roared.
The group scattered, running from the room. But not before Marcus shot Kael one final venomous glare. "This isn't over." He mouthed.
The teacher knelt beside Kael and Clara, his expression softening. "Are you alright, son?"
Kael nodded slowly, finally able to breathe again. His stomach throbbed with pain, but he didn't think anything was broken.
"Let's get you to the nurse." The teacher said gently. He helped Kael to his feet, supporting most of his weight. "Can you walk?"
"Yes." Kael managed to say, though his voice was strained.
Clara grabbed his hand, squeezing tight. Her face was streaked with tears, her whole body trembling. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I should have done something. I should have helped."
"It's fine." Kael said, and surprisingly, he meant it.
Because something had happened back there. Something important. That voice it had guided him, helped him dodge attacks he shouldn't have been able to see coming.
What was it? Where did it come from?
And more importantly… could he use it again?
The nurse's office was quiet except for the ticking of a clock on the wall. Kael sat on the examination table while the nurse a kind-looking older woman with graying hair—checked him over.
"Well, you're going to have quite the bruise." She said, prodding gently at his stomach. "But nothing seems broken. You're lucky."
Lucky. That word again.
Clara sat in a chair nearby, having finally stopped crying. But her eyes were red and puffy, her hands still shaking slightly.
The teacher who had saved them Mr. Reeves, he'd introduced himself as stood by the door, arms crossed. "I've sent those students to the principal. They'll be dealing with serious consequences for this."
"Thank you." Clara said quietly.
Mr. Reeves looked at them both, his expression troubled. "I'm sorry this happened to you two. I know… I know what people are saying. About your old school."
Clara's head snapped up. "You know?"
"The whole staff knows." Mr. Reeves admitted. "We were briefed before you arrived. But knowing what happened and understanding it are two different things." He sighed. "Most of the students only heard rumors. Twisted versions of the truth that make you two look… suspicious."
"But we didn't do anything wrong!" Clara protested, fresh tears forming. "We're just kids! We almost died too!"
"I know." Mr. Reeves said gently. "And I believe you. But fear makes people cruel, and right now, these students are afraid of what they don't understand."
"So what are we supposed to do?" Clara asked, her voice breaking. "Just… just take it? Let them bully us and call us names and attack us?"
"No." Mr. Reeves said firmly. "You report it to a teacher immediately. What happened today was completely unacceptable, and it will be dealt with."
But Clara didn't feel reassured. Even if those specific students were punished, there were dozens more who felt the same way. Hundreds, maybe. How could they fight against an entire school?
An entire city?
Kael had been quiet through this whole exchange, his mind elsewhere. He kept replaying the fight in his head, focusing on that moment when he'd heard the voice.
"Move right."
It had been so clear. So certain. Like someone was standing right next to him, whispering instructions directly into his ear.
But there had been no one there. Just him and his attackers.
So where had it come from?
"Kael?" Clara's voice broke through his thoughts. "Are you okay? You're being even quieter than usual."
He looked at her, considering whether to tell her about the voice and he also wondered if this was one of them oaths they talked about. But Mr. Reeves was still there, and something told him this wasn't information to share freely.
"I'm fine." He said instead. "Just tired."
The nurse finished her examination and gave Kael some pain medication. "You should rest for the remainder of the day. I'll write you both a note to go home early."
"Thank you." Clara said, relief flooding through her.
As they gathered their things, Mr. Reeves stopped them at the door. "Listen, I know today was hard. And I know tomorrow might be hard too. But you're not alone in this. If you ever need help, if anyone gives you trouble, you come find me immediately. Do you understand?"
Clara nodded, feeling slightly better. At least one person in this school didn't hate them.
"Thank you, Mr. Reeves." She said sincerely.
He gave them a small smile. "Now get some rest. Both of you."
The walk back to the orphanage was quiet. Clara kept glancing at Kael, worry etched on her face.
"Does it hurt bad?" She asked finally.
"It's manageable." Kael replied, which wasn't really an answer.
"I can't believe he used one of those oaths on you." Clara said, her voice shaking with residual fear. "He could have really hurt you. What if Mr. Reeves hadn't shown up?"
Kael didn't answer because he didn't know. Would the boy have kept hitting him? Would Clara have been hurt too?
The thought didn't scare him as much as he thought it should. But it did make him… concerned. Not for himself, but for Clara.
She had thrown herself over him, tried to protect him even though she was smaller and weaker. Why would she do that? It didn't make logical sense.
"Why did you try to shield me?" He asked suddenly.
Clara looked at him, surprised. "What?"
"Back there. When that boy was going to hit me again. You covered me with your body. Why?"
Clara's cheeks flushed. "Because… because you're my friend. And friends protect each other."
"But you could have been hurt."
"I know." Clara said quietly. "But I couldn't just watch. I had to do something."
Kael processed this. The concept of friendship was still strange to him, but he was beginning to understand it better. Friends did things for each other, even when it wasn't logical. Even when it put them at risk.
Interesting.
"Thank you." He said finally.
Clara's eyes widened. Then she smiled the first real smile since they'd arrived at this school.