5. Inkling

"Neglect mending a small fault and 'twill soon be a great one." – Benjamin Franklin

AVALYNNE TRACED THE CRACKS on the wall with the tip of her bandaged finger, then scratched a fleck of paint from the wall. The only sounds in the deserted hallway was the ticking of the giant clock, and the flapping of the loose posters on the wall. Faint murmuring could be heard from her position outside the door but nowhere near discernible enough to understand or make sense of. She continued to wait with thoughts of the two men in the room, having to keep reminding herself of why she was here before she forgot. And soon she had resorted to reading everything hanging on the wall.

Her study of a certain sexual health poster on the notice board beside the door was interrupted by the opening of said door. The man she had seen previously was there again with his whimsically faced friend. He had paused at the door for the briefest of moments, strained in his face before giving the quickest and most minuscule smile he could. It couldn't have been more than an awkward twitch but for the sake of positivity she claimed it as a smile as he strode passed her. His friend followed after him saying, "Iyra's free now, if you want her."

"Thanks," Avalynne offered a pleasantly tight-lipped smile before entering the room.

Professor Blakely was at her desk, reading a thick book rather quickly. The room was fairly light but a dark aura filled it, as if the conversation that Professor Blakely had just had with the two men had an extremely sombre topic. Despite this her tutor looked as though nothing had occurred before she arrived and with this notion Avalynne continued. "I came to ask about the extra reading you suggested I do."

"Yes, I wanted you to re-read more of Shakespeare's tragedies, I think they might help with your ideas." She answered robotically, the common tone for Iyra Blakely. She handed her the pile of books beside her and Avalynne cradled them in her arm.

"Thank you so much. I was at the hospital last night and it totally left my mind. Seven stitches in my finger. I guess I'm clumsy in the kitchen," Avalynne laughed nervously, not even sure if her professor cared much for her minor injury. Especially when she replied with a dismissive hum. "Yeah, I'll get started then. Have a good afternoon."

Avalynne left the tense atmosphere as quickly as she could and continued through the hallway and outside into the still air.

The stagnant air however did not continue for the rest of the day, but slowly descended into a downpour of rain in the late evening. The rain seemed to only let up during the sunlight hours, while the darkness brought brisk and damp weather. Primarily, Avalynne was convinced that the strange weather was to do with some sort of weird phenomena. She was curious into the disjointed patterns and for some reason she believed it had all linked to this foreboding feeling she had for some time. It had to be linked to something else, and for some reason whenever the weather changed so suddenly she felt like the answer was closer to her and further from science than she could fathom.

Often though, the sunrise was just the way things were, and the rain was just an unfortunate happening. Luc had known the influence of the witches since he was a young boy, and how their work reflected around them. He had always seen the rainfall as a sign of something being released, as an explosion of pent up energy finally being relieved. There was something about the magic rain that was different to mortal weather. The force with which it fell was almost comforting to him and so the rain was welcomed by Luc. It was his favourite type of weather, for this almost senseless reason. Maybe it came around when he had finally felt the link between himself and the great surge of power — when he remembered the feelings of pain he felt so intensely as the rain poured down around him.

It was hard to forget that day he became what he was but most of the flashes he remembered were of heavy rain. It often flitted from his mind, more than he would have expected it to at first. He simply put it down to more pressing matters stealing his attention. But every time he remembered the event an emphatic wave would hit him so hard as if it were happening all over again and his memories and their tangible effect would never leave him. Sometimes he felt it in its entirety; every muscle stretched, every nerve ending caught fire. Sometimes he would feel absolutely nothing, no pleasure nor pain. And he'd have to take a moment to recover himself. Nothing could cure his episodes, and so far he'd managed to live with them, along with the heightened hunger. Many parts of him made him a target and a liability. He could understand why Iyra thought it better to avoid him. He'd understand why anybody would. He had special blood, he was an anomaly and he proved it everyday.

"What are you thinking about?" Lando asked. Luc was stretched out on the floor, staring at the ceiling. His eyes would barely move but for a brief change of position, and then they would freeze, and study a different piece of the blank space. He didn't reply immediately to Lando, as if his internal reception was bad and he didn't recieve the message as soon as his friend had sent it. But when he did return a mumble it was incoherent and indiscernible.

"Would you like to try and explain that to me, or...?" pressed Orlando but Luc remained silent. Behind his eyes fell the rain again and he tried to move but he couldn't. He felt disconnected from his body - paralysed - even to the point where Lando's voice began to fade out. But he was abruptly brought back at the thought of the blood that brought him into town. As vivid as it was the previous night, the ache in his stomach reminded him of the scent.

A short while and a deep breath revived him quickly and he pulled his heavy limbs up to bring himself to his feet. Lando was still very concerned, demanding an answer as he strode towards him, "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm okay," Luc said. He even tried to squeeze out a smile but was sure his attempt was useless. Lando got yet another strained, tight-lipped response that really confirmed all of his fears.

"You blacked out again, didn't you?"

"Orlando cool off, I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me at a time like this. We're going back to Iyra, we'll try and push a little something extra out of her to help."

"I have a feeling she won't be so open to the use of force," Luc said with a deep sigh. The small adrenaline had worn off and fatigue was catching up with him, and he just couldn't muster the vigour he needed to leave through the door.

"I would carry you but I don't want to emasculate you any further."

"What are you talking about? Any further?"

"That woman had you," Lando laughed at his friend which made him stop. He had hoped to not get another reminder of her, to not make her a constant. She knew that she was linked to the blood he smelled. She was of no importance however, so he made sure he let Lando know.

"I wasn't talking about her, Luc. I meant Iyra." Lando said in confusion which morphed slyly into deduction. "But, I do think that she is of importance, otherwise you would not have mentioned her."

"The truth is... I know her."

"How?"

"From my first night?"

"You hooked up with someone before you came here?"

"No, nothing like that happened. I don't know her like that. I just - I don't know - I smelled her," Luc admitted. The look he received made him regret telling. Orlando's face was twisted and scrunched comically, almost like an empty water bottle, holding in laughter as well as he possibly could. "Her blood, Lando. Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," he released in an octave higher than normal. "I do remember a bandage round her finger - she may have chopped it off."

"But it was different. It was stronger, even by my standards."

"That's certainly saying something," Lando confirmed. "I have a question. Why are you so sensitive?"

"Sensitive?" Luc said

"Sensitive."

"I'm not sensitive."

"You're defensive too."

"Get off my case, man."

"See what I mean?"

"That was unnecessary."

Orlando grinned, before an abrupt about face. "We need to go back to Iyra. I'm feeling anxious... unsettled."

"Alright, I guess we can go."

Luc and his friend left the loft and got in the car, and while Lando drove, Luc observed the surroundings. The remains of the rain was still around, the darkened patches clinging to the pavement and the droplets of water racing down windows. The car smelled stale to Luc; he wanted to be outside, just walking, breathing, being. Two days of hiding out had already got him agitated and restless. Lando was all fun and games and teenage girl sleepover but there was way too much on Luc's mind to play dress up. He was glad to see his friend but there was more pressing him. Like a lugging force pulling on his limbs.

The drive was serene. He lost focus of where they were going or how long they hand been on the road. Soon Luc had opened his eyes, forgetting when he had even closed them. The long blinks got longer and soon his eyelids sealed and he drifted away from the car, and up.