A Second Generation Whateley Academy Adventure

Sprite 2: I Think I'm A Clone Now

by

Amethyst

 

 

Part One

 

Thanks to Fiddlerfox and Domoviye for helping with a few of the scenes.

 

The middle of nowhere, New Hampshire
Approaching Dunwich Station
Wednesday, September 28th, 2016 – 11:35 a.m.

I was woken from my nap as the speaker in the cabin announced, “We are now approaching Dunwich Station and will arrive shortly. All passengers bound for Dunwich, please prepare to disembark, and thank you for choosing Amtrak.”

I groaned tiredly before letting a huge yawn slip out as I stretched my stiff muscles. I was so damn tired, mostly because so far, my trip to this Whateley place that was supposed to keep me safe while getting an education was absolute hell. As I checked to make sure that both my phone and my wallet/suitcase were secure inside my laptop case, I tried not to think of just how terrible this trip had been so far. I was not successful.

The problems began right out of the gate, our departure gate that is. Actually, they started before we even got to the gate. For some reason, the MCO jackasses manning the checkpoint decided to make me their designated victim for the day, probably because I was small and looked relatively helpless. They ran my damn laptop case through the X-ray machine three fucking times and tried pressuring me for more information than I knew they could legally ask for.

Marie got involved and told them that I was a minor and she was accompanying me as both my legal guardian and as a representative of the Ministry of Superhuman Affairs. That got them off my back fairly quickly, but I still wasn’t happy about it. By the time we were done, I was glad that Marie insisted we show up a few hours early for our flight.

Then there was the flight to Boston itself, or as I like to call it, the flight of shame. When we checked in for our flight, the people at the desk told me I couldn’t fly in a seat like a regular person because of my size and safety concerns. They promised Marie to have an alternative for me that would be respectful and dignified by the time our flight started boarding though.

Their solution turned out to be something they called a First Class Travel Safety Pod. Sounds pretty cushy, right? It was a goddamn pet carrier with a cushion on the floor, bits of cat hair inside, and the only place besides the floor to try to make myself comfortable was the molded plastic along the sides of the carrier. Including the brief stopover, it was an eight-hour flight from Calgary to Boston.

Eight. Fucking. Hours. My in-flight meal consisted of an eye-dropper full of water and a couple of peanuts that Marie managed to sneak into my cage, I mean ‘safety pod’, and I spent the entire trip deeply regretting my life choices and becoming intimately familiar with the full body rash I was developing. Whatever material the cushion on the floor was made from in my little slice of hell was making me unbearably itchy and the molded plastic wasn’t any better. I couldn’t even try to sleep on the flight because it was so uncomfortable.

By the time we were off the plane, and I was released from the fucking pet carrier, I was suffering from persistent and painful burning itchiness, my skin was puffy and as pink as my hair from the rash covering most of my body, and I felt like I was going to die. Even my insect-like wings felt unbearably itchy. Marie was pissed about it too since she had specifically told the people at the airline that I had an allergy to synthetics.

She got the airline to refund the cost of my airfare, giving me some extra spending cash, but it took so long to deal with those people that we ended up having dinner very late and didn’t get to the hotel until almost midnight. As a result of my discomfort from the allergy rash, feeling hellish in general, our late arrival at our hotel, and the fact that we needed to wake up extra early so I could catch my train to Dunwich, I didn’t get much sleep last night.

And we still almost missed my train. That was mostly because of how awful I was feeling this morning, and not just because I was still fighting the urge to scratch all those itchy spots with industrial-grade sandpaper. No, because that obviously wasn’t enough, I also got hit with my first period this morning. I was totally freaking out about it, Marie had to talk me down and explain what was going on, and then we had to try to figure out a solution that would work for someone my size, which had us running late.

Fun fact: They do not make doses of Midol or feminine hygiene products for girls who are five inches small. I told Marie, "I am not stuffing a cotton ball into my teeny-tiny panties," at her first suggestion. Her next suggestion wasn’t much better, but it was more practical for my size. She bought a small package of cotton swabs, the kind that people use for cleaning their ears or for makeup application, and snipped off the cotton-covered tips to create some improvised pads that I could slip inside my panties.

Not that I had many panties for my size, and I had already ruined one pair when we discovered my current problem. I guess the solution did work, even if it was uncomfortable, and the swabs were really absorbent. The rest of the package of cotton swab ends were put in a small, plastic baggie in the front pocket of my laptop bag before we rushed to the train station.

Marie and I barely had time to say proper goodbyes, though at least there weren’t many people on the train other than me at seven in the morning. As a result, I was able to get a cabin all to myself and didn’t have to deal with people. That was only a small comfort though because between my discomfort and the fear of someone walking in and sitting on me while I was snoozing, my brief nap on the train was not very restful. I felt tired, cranky, and as miserable as I had ever felt in my life, as either Aiden or Vanessa.

“Stop whining, you brought all this upon yourself,” I reminded myself bitterly, as the thought made my chest tighten with emotion. “It was my cowardice and selfishness that drove Blythe to do this to me, I betrayed her. I had the best intentions, but I know where those lead, especially now. I might not deserve the hell Blythe planned for me, but I deserve at least this level of misery. I’m a terrible friend and a terrible person.”

As the train came to a stop at Dunwich Station, I carefully extended my PK shell around my laptop case as I picked it up and left the cabin. Fortunately, my laptop case was my only baggage because I was still getting used to using my PK shell to carry things this way and it was still weird as hell casually lugging around things that were bigger than I was by a large margin. Still, I had a solid grip on it as I flitted toward the nearest exit and disembarked from the train.

The station was quiet, with no people boarding or leaving the train I arrived on. The weather was cool, with it being late September and all, but not nearly as cold as it had been in Calgary. Heck, this was practically shorts and a t-shirt weather. At least I could find one positive in this trip since finding comfortable and warm winter jackets is a pain in the ass when you’re five inches tall, allergic to synthetics, and have wings to worry about.

Since I had no luggage, other than the laptop case I was carrying, I quickly made my way to the only person I could see nearby, a slender and pretty redheaded young woman who looked to be in her late teens. She was wearing a fleece-lined denim jacket, a long dark green woolen skirt, and a pair of dark brown leather boots peeking out from under the ankle-length hem of the skirt. She was also holding up a small sign with ‘Vanessa Gordon’ written on it, so I assumed she was there for me.

I flew toward the young woman waiting for me and got a better look as I got closer. Her ginger hair had darker crimson and tawny blonde highlights, and her golden eyes were as bright as the smile that graced her pretty face as I flew toward her. She also had long, pointed ears that resembled mine.

As I approached, the redheaded elf-girl spoke up in a friendly tone, “You must be Vanessa, I’m Becky Wheeler. Our mutual faculty advisor asked me to pick you up and make sure you get to the school without any issues. I can take your bag for you if you want, that looks a bit awkward.”

“Uhh… thanks,” I replied as she took my laptop bag for me. “Before we go though, I… uhh… need to grab something and go use the ladies' room.”

Thankfully, Becky didn’t pry as I fished in the front pocket and retrieved one of my replacement ‘pads’ from the baggie inside, and she seemed content to wait rather than engage in female herd bathroom behavior. I was embarrassed enough already about having to deal with this feminine problem without adding any company to make it more awkward. I probably would have been visibly blushing if I wasn’t already still all pink and rashy from yesterday’s plane trip from hell.

As it was, changing my ‘pad’ and doing my other business in a public bathroom meant for people who weren’t five inches tall was extremely awkward and annoying. At least at home, there were some temporary measures set up until Kinosoo could work out a fairy-sized bathroom with running water and stuff for my little cabinet house. When I returned, Becky led the way outside to the parking lot, and her car, a red Toyota Prius.

Becky carefully placed my laptop bag in the back seat, let me flit inside to get comfy in the passenger’s seat, and then closed the door to go around to the driver’s side. Once she was in her seat and had her safety belt on, she asked conversationally, “So, a Fairy, huh? How did your folks take that?”

“I’m dead to them,” I answered bitterly, the mere mention of my original parents putting me in a worse mood than I was already. It was true too since Marie told me that my parents made it clear they much preferred to think I was dead than to accept the truth they had been presented with. “The family that adopted me seems nice so far though.”

Becky visibly winced in the driver’s seat. “Ouch, sorry for bringing it up. If it’s any consolation, I totally understand. I was adopted after manifesting too and my new family is much better than the assholes who raised me before that. They’ve had a lot of patience with me. I’m still not sure how they had the patience to put up with all my issues and the magic-related problems.”

“You’re a magic-user too?” I asked, genuinely curious. I wondered how many of us were at this school.

“Oh yeah,” she replied with a nod. “I have a natural affinity for fire-based magic, it came to me a little too easily at first and I had problems using other kinds of magic when my adoptive parents found me a teacher. Every time I tried, hobgoblins! Between accidental fires and trouble-making hobgoblins when I tried using other magic, it was decided that Whateley would be the best place for me to get some training. I’ve worked my butt off, learning to become a well-rounded magic user. I hear that you’ve been having a problem with hobgoblins too.”

I groaned but admitted, “A little bit.” Marie and Leanna had tried to teach me a few basic spells to keep me safe since I didn’t have to worry about lighting my well or building up essence like a non-mutant Mage but for some reason, I kept misfiring and we ended up having to disperse hobgoblins, so they decided to start with the basics until I got my acceptance letter for Whateley.

“It’s no big deal,” the redhead tried to encourage me. “You’ll get over it and become a competent magic user with time and effort, like I did.  Our faculty advisor had similar issues when she was starting out and now, she’s one of the top magic users in the world.”

“Faculty advisor?” I asked since this was the second time that she mentioned it. If this mystery person was some kind of advisor for me though, why was Becky picking me up?

Seeming to read my intent, the ginger elfin girl nodded as she started the car and pulled out of her parking space. “Yeah, she doesn’t usually take on students or even teach classes much right now though. She’s busy with… other things that are more important. She’ll get involved if we really need her to, and she wants to meet you soon, but I’m a senior and experienced enough with magic that she’s having me work as her proxy with you. With the fall magic class full and you needing to learn, she’s asked me to act as your magic tutor and help you out with any problems that crop up in her place. She thinks it’ll be good for both of us and I’m getting extra credit.”

I was quiet for the rest of the drive to the school, leaving Becky to do most of the talking as she told me about the school and what I could expect. She told me that a lot of kids used their codenames. that hers was FairyFire, and that our faculty advisor was someone named Ms. Reilly. She kept talking cheerfully until we reached the school, and I only spoke up when it seemed a reply was needed, usually in short sentences or single words. Unfortunately, that behavior did not go unnoticed.

 As Becky pulled my laptop case from the back seat and I flew outside she commented, “You don’t say much, do you, Vanessa?”

“I’m here to learn to use my powers, not to make friends,” I answered bluntly. She might be stuck with me as a student, but it was probably for the best that she didn’t think that we were going to be study buddies or something. I didn’t need or want friends, and I certainly didn’t deserve them.

 

 

Becky took me straight to a place called Crystal Hall for lunch. I could see how it got its name with the huge geodesic dome, but it was a little too crowded for my liking, and some of the people looked even weirder than me. The variety of food available was pretty impressive, even if finding plates, cutlery, a glass, or even a meal for a person my size was problematic. Becky got some sort of salad and some juice, and we felt it would probably be easiest to get a very small salad and juice for me as well. I just wanted to eat and get the hell out of there, and eating meat had been kind of upsetting my stomach lately anyway.

After that, Becky took me to nearby Schuster Hall, where I needed to go to sort out my classes and stuff. She couldn’t stay with me since she had to get to her next class, but she was able to point me in the right direction. In administration, I was given a rundown of school rules and told which cottage or dorm I would be living in, and then we worked out a class schedule for me.

Hoping to avoid people as much as I could, I would start my school days by getting breakfast at six-thirty in the morning, and while most other students were eating their breakfast, I would be in Basic Martial Arts, though how someone as small as me was supposed to use martial arts, I had no idea. Following that, I would have Powers Theory, World History, and then English. I was scheduled for lunch from noon to one, which I wasn’t really happy about, and then I had Powers Lab, Algebra, and Flight before my four o’clock magic tutoring session with Becky to finish my day.

Another thing that I wasn’t happy about was that they wanted me to see some kind of therapist, somebody named Dr, Bellows, about what happened with Blythe and her mother and my new reality. Apparently, the cover story we came up with about me being a runaway before being found and adopted by Marie was just for the other students. The administration knew otherwise and thought I should be seeing someone about that shit. I told them that I didn’t need a damn shrink; I was small enough already. They disagreed, so now I was going to be stuck ‘sharing my feelings’ with some asshole I don’t know once a week.

Between that news, the cramps eating my insides, and the annoying rash that was fading far too slowly, I wasn’t in the best of moods as I made my last stop in Schuster Hall. I had gone through enough ‘hurry up and wait’ and jumping through hoops over the last couple of hours to make my mood worse than when I arrived, and I didn’t think that was possible. "Just great, more waiting, followed by jumping through more hoops,” I grumbled as I flew into the room lugging my laptop case. “Being tortured by Blythe was less traumatic than this process."

I fluttered over to place my bag on a desk, where a girl roughly my age with short, lavender hair and dressed in one of the school’s uniforms was sitting, chewing gum, and looking bored. To her credit, the girl looked completely unflustered as I landed on the desk beside my bag. “Huh, another newbie? Name?” she asked as if she dealt with Fairies appearing in her office every day.

“Ai…” I almost gave my old name there, but I was still getting used to being called Vanessa. I quickly corrected myself. “Ummm… Vanessa Gordon, I’m supposed to be picking up a welcome package?”

The girl in the school uniform shrugged as she looked me up and down, not that it took long with me being five inches tall. “I guess you’re that special case I was told about.” Then she reached into her desk and pulled out a stack of papers and a plastic baggie with something that looked like school uniforms that might actually fit me inside. “These were altered from the measurements of a former student who was a little like you. They probably won’t fit perfectly, but they should do until you can go to Rogers' Fabric Boutique in Dunwich to get something better.”

I frowned as she said ‘a little like you’ not in the mood to try to figure out if that was a crack about my size or not. I tried to focus on what was more important right now. “I gotta pay for uniforms?” I asked grouchily. Well, there goes that airfare I got back, and maybe my allowance too, depending on how much they were going to charge for clothes my size. I might not even be able to afford custom detailed work like that.

“The school will pay for two uniforms from the boutique when you can go there to get properly measured,” the girl replied, causing me to breathe a sigh of relief. It was certainly better than nothing when all I had were the dresses and panties that Leanna made me. I appreciated the effort my adoptive sister went to, but they weren’t the best fit while doll clothes fit worse and irritated my skin as much as that godawful plane trip.

The girl continued by informing me, “There are permission forms here for you to go into Dunwich to do that, but you’ll need an escort. If you need underwear or other clothes, Miss Rogers can do those too, but you’ll have to pay for them. Have you chosen a work-study yet?”

Damn, it looked like I was still going to be paying a pretty penny for proper clothes, especially since I had already ruined one of my very few pairs of panties on this trip so far. I let out a long sigh at the thought, and the thought that I would have to get a job while I was here. “Yeah, someone suggested maintenance since I’m so small. I can get into tight places and my PK shell should keep me safe.”

“Okay, I’ll mark that down,” she said with a nod as she made a note of it on the paper in front of her. “It looks like you have a laptop, do you have a phone? There’s information on the welcome pamphlet on how you can download the class schedules and information to your phone. If you don’t have one…”

“Yeah, it’s in my other pan…” I began snarkily before stopping myself. I might be in a pissy mood, but I didn’t have to take it out on her. She was just doing the job she was probably assigned like I would have to do in maintenance. I sighed again and told her, “It’s in the laptop case, along with my suitcase.”

“Everything you need should be in these pamphlets and you can report to maintenance to find out when and where they’ll need you. They’ll try to work around your class schedule. It looks like you’re in Hawthorne Cottage, you should be able to find it with the map in the pamphlet, or you can ask someone to show you the way,” she told me, apparently done with me.

I somewhat awkwardly put the papers, pamphlets, and baggie with my new uniforms in my laptop case and extended my PK shell to pick it up so I could find my dorm and hopefully be done with this horrible day. There was a boy about my age just sort of standing there and staring at me. I thought that he was there when I came in. Was he new here too?

For some reason I was curious, maybe it was because he wasn’t acting as blasé about me as the girl behind the desk had, it made me think he was probably new here too and not used to all the weirdness I had seen earlier in Crystal Hall yet. I found myself asking, “So, what are you in for?”

“Throwing Foster Dad number six through a wall, you?” he replied.

Okay, that was… honest. I figured I probably owed him the same, besides, he would probably never believe me anyway. “Was an asshole to my best friend so she murdered me and put me in a clone of herself so she could torture me for the rest of my life.”

“Ouch, yeah that'd suck,” he countered. Wait, he actually believed that? I went through it, and I still didn’t believe it sometimes. “Did you pee in her pool, or just piss off all the other Fairies?”

"She's not a real Fairy, she's a mutant. I guess I am now too," I explained. Now I wasn’t really sure what to say since I didn’t expect him to take the story at face value. I didn’t want to elaborate since, honestly, it still hurt to think about it, so I found myself hesitating. "I... would rather not talk about it. Let's just say that I was a jerk, but I was trying to protect her too. I didn't deserve her going all crazy supervillain on me with her mom. I'm not sure what's worse, being a chick, or being so small. It's not like I have a choice though. I'm... uhh... Vanessa, or Sprite, take your pick."

“Shannon,” he responded before offering, “So, did you need a hand carrying that?”

I appreciated the offer, but as much as he seemed like a decent guy, I wasn’t looking to make friends. Thankfully, I had a convenient reason to turn him down. “Thanks for the offer, but someone is supposed to be meeting me out front to give me a tour and show me to my cottage.”

We made our way to the building entrance together and I was set to wait for this Emiko girl who was supposed to be meeting me. I waited a good five minutes with Shannon keeping me company before figuring that I’d probably been forgotten about, or the person just didn’t care to show up. Finally, I was impatient enough to just say ‘fuck it’ and try to find this Hawthorne Cottage on my own. How hard could it be? I had a map in one of the pamphlets if I needed it.

Shannon ended up helping with my laptop bag, despite my protests, and we found the place without too much trouble after we asked someone who looked relatively normal for directions. We were just about to enter when a Japanese girl with really short hair wearing a school uniform, came running up to me, puffing and panting. I thought I could hear tinkling bells too. "Y-you're Sprite?" she gasped.

"Yeah," I responded simply as I looked toward Shannon and shrugged.

"I'm -gasp!- Emiko. Sorry for being late," she panted. "I had to hide when a clown attacked an elf. Took a while- gasp- for security to pull them apart. Just missed you at Schuster and ran all the way here."

I found myself staring at her, stupefied, and I wasn’t the only one. Shannon looked like he couldn’t parse what we’d just been told either. Was she shitting us, or was this school really just that weird? “Ummm… o…kay.”

 

 

Once Shannon helped me get my stuff to room 206, my assigned room in Hawthorne Cottage, we parted ways and Emiko took me on a tour of the school, beginning with the cottage where I would be staying. She didn’t live in the dorm, she said that she was in Dickinson, but she helped out in Hawthorne enough to know her way around.

She started with my room. It looked like a normal dorm room for the most part, though there was a small wooden dollhouse sitting on the desk that looked about the right size for someone like me. It was basically a one-room cabin with an attached bathroom that had facilities for someone my size, including a shower. I didn’t know how they got things to work at my size, but I was happy to have a toilet I could use without risking literally falling in every time I had to go.

The main room of the tiny cabin held a wooden desk and chair in my size, a closet and dresser for my clothes, and a wooded bed with a cotton down-stuffed mattress, cotton sheets, and wool blankets that wouldn’t bother my allergies. Fortunately, the little cabin didn’t take up too much room on the desk of the dorm room, so I would be able to set up my laptop and phone there for easy access. Emiko told me that some rooms in Hawthorne were set up for teleconferencing because some students couldn’t even leave their rooms, but my room wasn’t one of those.

After I had a chance to look around my room, Emiko took me to see the rest of the cottage. I learned that Hawthorne was the cottage for the freaks, kids who needed special arrangements because of their mutations and couldn’t be housed with others or who couldn’t control their powers and play well with others. Lucky me, I fit both of those descriptions.

Emiko didn’t say it like that though, she said it in a much nicer way, but I could read between the lines. I was here because I was a freak and wouldn’t fit in anywhere else. As a result, this place was weird, like there were biohazard chutes on every floor and tunnels under the cottage that led to Schuster Hall and Doyle Medical Center. I guess this was to keep freaks like us from being seen in public areas on what Emiko called red flag days.

It wasn’t all bad, there were some places for kids in the dorm to relax and hang out, and there was even a kitchen. But then there were the basement levels, what sort of people did they have down there? Emiko showed me the pool down there at least, but it wasn’t for swimming. She told me rumors she had heard about who, or what, used to be kept there but now it was split in two for any students who might need to live in an aquatic environment. Not that there were any living there at the moment.

There was this school legend that Emiko told me, though she couldn’t be sure how much truth there was to it. She said that a few years ago before they filtered the water as thoroughly as they do now, they had a guy and girl with very fishy GSD living down there. One night, acting on instinct, the girl laid eggs in the coral garden at the bottom, and he fertilized them. A month later, they had a dozen or so children and they left the school in shame.

That wasn’t something I wanted to hear, especially with how mentally and physically uncomfortable my period was making me. I tried to put it out of my mind as we left the cottage for a tour of the rest of the school and, eventually, I managed to do so. It was much more important trying to keep track of all the places Emiko was showing me and what she was telling me.

During the tour, she showed me all the places of interest and even took me to check in with maintenance about my work-study job. I was assigned to work with someone named Mr. Wilson on Sunday, something I had mixed feelings about. I didn’t want to have to work as well as take classes, but I might need the extra spending money for clothes and other supplies in my size. I couldn’t just wave the credit card my once-father gave me to pay for things anymore.

Emiko concluded the tour of the campus at Crystal Hall so we could both eat dinner. I would have rather just gotten something to eat and taken it to my dorm, but the friendly nun (somehow that didn’t surprise me at all) seemed to be worried about me and wanted to keep me company. I was, admittedly in a pretty piss poor mood by that point though, in part because of my period and how awful the past day had been, and in part because of the stares I was getting from students we passed on the tour. I was being stared at as we ate as well, but I did my best to ignore it, even if I wasn’t very successful.

After a few minutes of awkward silence while eating, she tried to start up a conversation, offering in a reassuring tone, “You know, the stares should stop in a few days. Right now, people are just interested in you because you’re the new girl.”

“Yeah, right,” I replied with a roll of my eyes, though she didn’t likely notice that with how tiny my eyes were. I made up for it by laying the sarcasm on thick though. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with me being a five-inch-tall Fairy.”

Emiko immediately countered with, “No, it's true! One of my friends pretends to be a cat because she looks exactly like one all the time. No one even gives Shisa a second look anymore. In a few days, people will stop staring and things won’t seem so strange to you either. So, where are you from, Vanessa? You don’t sound like you have an accent, like most people here do."

“Calgary,” I answered simply, hoping that might get her to realize that I didn’t want her to be my friend.

“Really? I’m from Calgary too!” she responded with a smile. Just fucking wonderful, now we had stuff in common and I would probably never get rid of her. “I hope you didn’t have to go to the MCO to get tested, I was told they aren't very nice. I went through the ministry and one of the local heroes, Baby’s Breath, tested me for magic when I got my MID.”

I sighed and spoke between mouthfuls as I continued to eat, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible. “Yeah, I got tested at an MSA facility and I’ve… met her too. I met all the Cowtown Heroes when I… manifested, but Baby’s Breath and Cattail really helped me when I needed it, and I got to know them pretty well.” I wasn’t about to tell her that I lived in their house now though.

“Oh, that’s cool, she seemed very nice when I met her. She spent the last few weeks of summer teaching me some magic,” she replied.

I wasn’t stupid enough to bring up how she was teaching me magic too and give us one more thing in common, so I simply nodded. Thankfully, the conversation died not long after that as I quickly finished my meal. She seemed to realize that I wasn’t in the mood to talk about my past or make friends and I excused myself to hurry back to my dorm room.

 

 

Emilie Fanouille watched the familiar fairy-like mutant leave Crystal Hall with a frown. The blonde, blue-eyed, exemplar was a sophomore, better known on campus as La Maupin, and she recognized the girl the Fairy had been sitting with from her own cottage. Her name was Emiko, and Emilie had briefly considered making her one of her conquests and bringing her into the fold, but as fun as it might be making the little nun squirm and eventually beg for her touch, she probably wasn’t Amazon material.

No, it was the fairy who interested her now. Why hadn’t Blythe told her that she was coming to Whateley? Sure, they hadn’t seen each other or talked much since she had started at Whateley last year, but they were friends, they had practically grown up together. Their mothers had gone to school together and sometimes even worked together on jobs as Mistress Mechanicha and Fleur de Neige until they had both decided to retire and have kids. While her mother didn’t stay retired for long, as far as she knew, Blythe’s mother still was.

Was Blythe snubbing her for some reason? Even though they hadn’t seen each other in person for over a year, they still talked and had video calls at least once a month. Why was she here at all? The last time she talked to her; Blythe and her mother were planning some sort of revenge on the ex-boyfriend who made her miserable after she manifested. Maybe she should try to talk to her and recruit her. She might not look like much, but with her size shifting and hatred of her ex, Blythe was definitely Amazon material.

The thoughts of her friend being here and not even telling her nagged at her throughout the evening until, finally, she picked up her phone and dialed Blythe’s number. It took a moment before her familiar voice sounded on the other end. “Emilie? I've been meaning to get hold of you. We had to move... urgently, and I wasn't able to bring along the furniture you made for me."

Blythe sounded genuinely upset about that. The furniture had been a gift after she manifested, something that would be durable and suited for her new fairy size until she could control her powers enough to spend time as a normal-sized person again. Besides being an Exemplar 3, Emilie had another power. She could manifest a substance that looked and felt like wood but was much more durable, and she used it to make things like furniture as a hobby.

That hobby had taken a back seat though since she had joined the Amazons after Christmas last year. She started learning to fight with swords and these days she mostly used that power to make armor and/or a weapon when she needed them and, while they looked like wood, they were as strong as steel and razor sharp. She changed her name on her MID too, from Carpenter to La Maupin. Something about the historic opera singer, who dueled men to the death after stealing their women, just struck a chord with her and that was the image she wanted for herself.

Was the missing furniture the reason that Blythe was avoiding her? “Hey, that’s okay, Blythe,” she assured her friend. “Is that why you didn’t tell me you were coming to Whateley?”

“I’m not coming to Whateley. Mom and I are lying low at our new place in Vancouver right now,” Blythe argued, sounding genuinely confused.

“What do you mean? I saw you here today with one of the girls from my dorm. How many pink-haired fairy-like mutants can there be?”

“Son of a bitch!” Blythe’s voice practically hissed. Emilie could hear the fury in her voice, and it took a moment before she calmed down enough to explain that the other Fairy was a clone of herself that had been created to keep her company and help her get revenge on her ex-boyfriend. Not long after she got her vengeance though, the clone turned on her and escaped. Emilie thought that there might be more to it than that, but she didn’t press. Their friendship was strong because they understood one another and the fact that some secrets couldn’t even be told to friends.

Regardless, Emilie offered her assistance. Blythe seemed determined to deal with the matter personally, but she did ask her to find out what she could about the clone, like what name or codename she might be using and anything else that she could find out about her. She almost pitied the clone because when Blythe became angry and obsessed with someone, she would hunt them down to the ends of the Earth and do everything in her power to make the rest of their days miserable.

It was something she had first seen when Blythe’s ex proved what an asshole he was, and she wished she could have been there to help her friend get her vengeance. That kind of drive was something that she could respect, and why she would have loved to invite her friend to join the Amazons, they needed people like that. She wished there was more she could do now, but she respected Blythe’s need to handle it herself.

She would do what she could for her, and if that meant getting information, it would be easy enough since the clone was a new student here and looked so unusual. She’d probably be the talk of the campus for the next few days. In fact, she knew just where to start.

Emilie smiled, licking her lips as she thought about charming that cute little nun into breaking whatever vows she took, making her think that she was hers alone, and then seeing the look on her face when she was done with her and cast her aside. This would be fun, and any information would be a nice bonus. If she couldn’t get any information from Emiko or it looked like she wasn’t interested in batting for the right team, there were always other people and other methods to get it.

 

 

Dickinson Basement
Evening

Emiko breathed in deeply, resting on her knees, thighs straight up, and leaning backward, arching her lower back, lifting her sternum, neck bent back, and her arms straight down resting her palms on her heels, in the camel pose. The yoga move stretched her limbs and muscles, helping release the tension of the day. Controlling her breath, she was halfway in a meditative state and could do this for hours.

“Oh, you're flexible. I like that,” a girl with a Quebecois accent said.

Opening her eyes, she gave a polite smile, ignoring the obvious sexual interest in the girl's voice. She didn't know the girl offhand, but Emiko had seen her coming from the sophomore floor. “Hello, do you practice yoga too?”

That made the newcomer grin, her eyes wandering over Emiko's small breasts in an uncomfortable way. “Not really. I prefer more physical activities. I'm La Maupin, I've heard a lot about you, Emiko. Figured it was time to get to know the Dickinson Nun.”

Going back to a kneeling position, Emiko bit back a sigh, too many people seemed to take the fact she was studying to be a Buddhist nun as a challenge to make her do things like drink, swear, go on a date with a boy they knew, or with them. “I'm always happy to talk, La Maupin.”

“So, what made you decide to become a nun? Had a calling from God?”

Shifting to the Malasana pose, which involved crouching on flat feet, with her knees beside her chest, her hands together in front of her chest, Emiko figured it was the safest pose that wouldn't let the girl leer at her butt or breasts. “I'm actually a Japanese Zen Buddhist. My father is a monk, and my mother is a nun, I plan on taking over the family temple when they get older.” She hoped that that bit of info would make the girl decide there wasn't a challenge in making her 'break her vows of celibacy'. While it would be bad to sleep with anyone and everyone, she was allowed to date and marry, it was letting sex become too important to her that was the problem.

That made the girl pause. “So, dating and stuff is allowed?”

“Yes. I am not going to look for a partner, but if I find a nice guy, I will consider dating him,” she stressed that bit, wanting to make it clear she was not interested in women.

“Good for you, you should be careful with boys,” La Maupin said.

She nearly fell over from surprise. From the way the girl had been checking her out, Emiko was sure she wanted something sexual. Practice in remaining calm and yoga kept her on her feet with only the slightest sway, which made La Maupin smile more.

“You're really good at yoga. Have you thought about trying some martial arts?”

“Helsing is teaching me some self-defense and how to fight with a staff. As part of the Goobers, there are some nasty things in the tunnels.”

“You're friends with Helsing? We were hoping she'd join the Amazons, we love how she stands up for herself,” La Maupin said.

Nodding, Emiko was glad to get the topic off of her. “She told me about your group. She likes fighting with you. She says your group has some of the better fighters on campus, and unlike Ratel, you know how to spar, not just brawl.”

Smiling the girl leaned in a little, “You should join us in the gym sometimes. We're always happy to help a sister learn to defend themselves.”

“I'll think about that, thank you.”

Suddenly Emiko’s roommate, Lovie, came rushing over. “OK, that's quite enough of that,” the London girl said.

“What?” Emiko asked, utterly confused.

“Excuse me,” La Maupin demanded.

“Don't 'excuse me’ me, I've been watching you for the last few minutes, getting all nice with Emiko, and buttering her up. I know exactly what you Amazons do.” Lovie grinned. “And while I'm always happy to join in, if anyone gets the first crack at Emiko, it's me. She's a sweet girl, she needs someone who knows how to make her feel special, not one of you wham, bam, thank you ma'ams.”

All Emiko could do was facepalm, hiding her humiliation as best she could.

La Maupin got into Lovie's face. “I think Emiko should make the decision about what she wants to do and who she wants to do it with.”

When had her life become a soap opera? She didn't want to date anyone, especially a girl, and yet she seemed to have gotten into a love triangle with two of them. Crouching on the floor wishing that her life could be normal, while her roommate and the Amazon kept getting louder and louder, Emiko sought the calm she desperately needed. Finally, she found her balance again and stood up.

“ENOUGH!” she shouted, making everyone who was there jump, not used to hearing her shout or get angry. “I don't know how I got in the middle of this, and I certainly don't want to be in the middle of it. La Maupin, thank you for the offer but I'm going to decline, Helsing is a very good trainer, and I will keep learning from her. And Lovie, let's keep to our agreement as roommates, what you do in your bed and pants is your private business, but leave me out of it.”

Grabbing her water bottle and small towel, Emiko headed upstairs to wash off and get ready for bed, all the stress of the day back with a vengeance. She'd have to just meditate in her room. 

 

 

Emilie was not happy as she left the basement. She was making progress with the little nun and probably would have managed to get her alone to pump her for information, and pleasure, if that slut roommate of hers hadn’t intervened. Just a little more time and manipulation and she would have made some real headway.

As much as she would enjoy the challenge that taming the Dickinson Nun presented, she decided to give up on that chase, at least for now. She would be better off searching for information on Blythe’s clone from other sources. Fortunately, she knew just the person, someone who owed the Amazons some favors for their protection, and she also provided certain services for the group in exchange for money. Instead of returning to her room on the sophomore floor, she continued upward to the juniors’ floor where she made her way to room 311.

The door was opened by a short and somewhat mousey-looking brunette with little in the way of feminine curves, despite being seventeen. She wore her hair long but secured behind her in a French braid and was currently wearing a pair of pink and purple pajamas, a pair of high-tech-looking gloves, and a similarly high-tech visor covering the upper half of her face and concealing her hazel eyes. Natasha Layton, otherwise known as L34K, was a devisor, self-styled hacker, and had a minor technopathy ability that would hopefully suit her current needs.

“Are you alone, Tasha?” Emilie asked the girl who opened the door.

Natasha shrugged and ushered her inside as she muttered, “Not anymore, but my roommate is out with her boyfriend right now. What do you want, La Maupin? Are you looking for some new toys, or is this about something else?”

“No, I’m quite happy with that strap-on you made for me, I don’t know what you did to it, but between those ridges and the sheer power, my last partner nearly passed out from the pleasure,” Emilie replied with a lusty grin. “You really should test your own wares sometime. I could...”

“Not interested,” L34K replied curtly. “Now what do you want from me this time, La Maupin?”

Emilie made a show of sighing but internally shrugged it off. It wasn’t like Tasha was much to look at after all. So, she got right to the point. “I need information on a new student, she just started today. Name and codename, and anything else you can get from her school records.”

She got the feeling that L34K was glaring at her behind that visor as she snapped, “You realize that I could get in big trouble for this if anyone finds out I’ve hacked into the school records, right? And the security is top notch too.”

“Are you refusing me?” The edge in La Maupin’s voice carried an unspoken threat of what would happen if that was the case.

“No, La Maupin,” the mousey girl quickly assured her, fear coloring her voice. “I’m just saying that there are other, less secure, systems on campus that I could infiltrate to get some of the information you need. I’ll get you what information I can, but I’m not going to risk security breathing down my neck by rooting around through the most secure records on campus.”

L34K’s visor started to glow slightly as her gloved hands moved rapidly over open air. The room remained eerily quiet, and the minutes stretched on before the glow in her visor faded again and the hacker was finally paying attention to the world around her once again. “I couldn’t risk staying too long in any one system, but I’ve gotten what information I safely could.”

Well, a little information was probably better than nothing. Emilie sighed and nodded before replying, “Tell me what you’ve found.”

“Two new students arrived today, but I wasn’t able to get much information on either without going deeper and staying longer than is safe in systems where I shouldn’t be,” the devisor/hacker prefaced before getting to the meat of it. “One student is Shannon Dougherty, no MID or codename yet that I can find. That sounds like an alias, but he’s in Emerson, so probably not your girl. The other student is Vanessa Gordon or Sprite, and she’s been placed in Hawthorne.”

Emilie sighed, she had been hoping for much more. Still, it was more information than she had before and just knowing her name and codename would probably be enough to get more information on her eventually. For now, that should be enough for Blythe. She quickly thanked L34K for her services and headed back to her room to call Blythe and pass on what little information she had gotten.

 

 

Laird Hall
Thursday, September 29th, 2016 – 8:00 a.m.

“Maybe it was a bad idea to take this early morning class while practically everyone else is eating breakfast,” I thought tiredly as I stifled a yawn and got changed into the Gi that I had found in the baggie with my new school uniforms. Not only did I have to get up super early just so I could get breakfast before this class started, but I had a long day ahead of me.

At least nobody had bothered me during breakfast, though I was a little disappointed that I couldn’t seem to stomach the small piece of bacon I had gotten with my scrambled eggs and tiny hotcake. It seemed like meat was disagreeing with me more and more every day, though my worsening allergies were much more concerning. Emiko had helped yesterday to relieve that annoyance with a healing spell before we left my room to go on the tour and I was grateful for that. She seemed nice but I wasn’t looking for friends, I would only end up hurting them in the long run, and I was only here to learn to control my powers.

It looked like there weren’t many kids in this BMA class, or at least I didn’t see many girls as we changed for class. That was something awkward that I wasn’t prepared for, and I tried not to look at the other girls who were in various stages of undress as I got ready. Some girls caught my attention though, girls who were different, like me.

One was a big girl who looked like a humanoid hippopotamus, she looked really intimidating. The other was a short girl, probably not even four feet tall from the look of her. She had long white hair with large round, white-furred ears sticking out atop her head, red eyes, a stocky build, and a long hairless tail. Her face was somewhat rat-like with a large nose and sharp rat-like teeth, and it looked like she had long and somewhat thin fingers tipped with sharp claws.

She also seemed shy, staying in a corner where she was mostly hidden from the majority of the other girls. Maybe she was self-conscious about her GSD, though once she noticed me hiding in my own corner as I changed, her eyes lit up a bit. Glancing toward the other girls changing she approached me once she had her Gi on properly. “You must be the new girl that everyone In Hawthorne was talking about yesterday,” she offered quietly.

“I guess I am,” I replied with a shrug. I doubted that any other fairy-like mutants could have shown up yesterday.

“I’m Polly… Polly Colby, but most people around here call me Pack Rat. I’m in Hawthorne too and I hear you’re my new neighbor. I should warn you, watch out for Huntsman, he lives just down the hall from us, and he could be trouble, especially for you. He’s in this class too.” Her voice was practically a whisper as her eyes warily watched the other girls who were either getting changed or leaving the changeroom.

I decided to bite, mostly for the sake of self-preservation. “Trouble for me? What do you mean?”

“Huntsman is one of the Goobers, they think they’re great monster hunters or something. Helsing, that girl leaving right now, she’s one of them too, but she doesn’t seem to be as arrogant as most of them,” she offered.

“So, an arrogant monster hunter? I don’t see how that involves me,” I told her candidly.

“No… Huntsman, well… he’s an Exemplar 2 with enhanced senses and the dude is batshit crazy. He’s also an arrogant jerk and to hear him talk about it, he thinks he’s the expert on everything supernatural. He believes the Fae are behind all of it though, and not just the supernatural but mutant powers and several unsolved mysteries too. You should hear the dude’s rants. How were pyramids made? Fairies. What happened to Amelia Earheart? Fairies. Atlantis? Fairies. Who steals all the socks from dryers? Fairies. Alien abductions? Fairies. The ones responsible for his minor GSD? Fairies. He hates them more than anything.”

Okay, I could see how that was probably going to be a problem for me. And if he was in this class too, I was probably about to meet that problem very soon. “Thanks,” I muttered. I may not want any friends, but I did appreciate the heads-up. With her warning given and our clothes changed, we headed out to where our classmates were waiting.

It wasn’t hard to pick out Huntsman, he was the one whose face erupted in fury the moment that he saw me, and he was practically growling in rage as he glowered at me. The guy was wearing his Gi inside out and had a horseshoe hung around his neck and honestly, it made him look kind of stupid. Polly was right too, compared to us, his GSD was relatively minor.

He looked practically baseline and was of average height and somewhat muscular build with dark brown hair and eyes. His nose and mouth were somewhat dog-like, and he had pointy, fuzzy ears, but other than that, I couldn’t see anything that made him stand out. There were people in class with a lot worse GSD than he had, like Polly and the hippo girl.

Unfortunately, as the new girl, I had to introduce myself to the class and Sensei Tolman, a tall and athletic Black woman who was wearing a black body suit. I was not happy with being put on the spot like that, especially with dog-face glaring and snarling at me the whole time. Sensei Tolman explained what we were doing today, for my benefit, and then she began calling up pairs to spar, first without powers and then with them.

I was a little worried about fighting without my powers as I waited for my turn to be called up and watched the other students fight. I was tiny and people could probably flatten me with one hit if I wasn’t allowed to use my PK shell. It wasn’t like I was big enough to flip them or anything either, though I supposed that I packed a pretty good punch for my small size, especially with what was equivalent to Exemplar two strength and durability.

The first pair up to fight were Helsing and the hippo girl, who I heard the others in class call Grande. To my surprise, Helsing actually pulled out a gun during their second bout and started firing paintballs at the brick and pistol-whipping her, while dodging like crazy. That match ended once Grande finally got a hold of her and threw her out of the ring. It was such an intense, drawn-out fight and I was even more surprised when the pair started grinning at one another and acting like best buddies when it was done.

Another surprising match was when Polly fought The Chosen One. I couldn’t believe that was his actual codename. What kind of arrogant asshole would actually call himself that? He was really muscular and looked confident in his abilities, but even I could tell that his movements were sloppy. Polly wiped the floor with him in both of their matches and people were openly laughing at him getting beaten by the tiny rat girl.

By the time my name was called to get on the mats, I had at least a general plan in place. As for my opponent, that was Huntsman, and we were the last two called up to spar. Because of course, we were.

He made no effort to hide his blind hatred for me and I had a sinking suspicion that Sensei Tolman wanted to use that to teach a lesson to the class. Lucky me, I was going to be used as an example on the first class of my first day. Well, if that asshole wanted to clobber me, he’d have to actually hit me first, and if it looked like that was going to happen, I would just go out of bounds and take the loss.

We both got in position and Sensei Tolman had barely told us to begin before Huntsman rushed me, and the asshole wasn’t pulling his punches either. I flitted out of the way of one punch, a second, and a third, abusing my speed and maneuverability in the air and the fact that I was a small target as I kept track of where we were in the ‘ring’. After the third whiff, he snarled, “This Fairy filth is cheating! It’s supposed to be no powers!”

That coming from the guy with Exemplar strength who wasn’t pulling his punches against an opponent who was five inches tall. This guy was starting to piss me off. Still, Sensei Tolman called a halt and asked me pointedly, “Are you using your powers to fly, Miss Gordon?”

“No, Sensei,” I immediately replied. “I’m not using my magic or my PK shell to do that. Just my wings, which are a natural part of my body, and how I usually get around. I’ve been training my body and wings for strength and endurance since I… manifested.”

“Still, I would like you to try to defend yourself without flying, and try to rein in your exemplar abilities to baseline levels… both of you,” she instructed with a pointed look toward Huntsman.

Grumbling at the unfairness of it all, I fluttered down onto the mat and got back in position. That bastard tried to stomp on me the moment she called for us to begin. I barely rolled to the side in time to avoid his foot, but he kept trying and I had a feeling that he wasn’t holding himself back to purely baseline strength, even if his speed had slowed a little. Screw this. This asshole was going to actually kill me at this rate if I tried to fight him like this. I ran for the edge to the mat that would take me out of bounds, barely dodging his stomping feet, and didn’t stop until I was off the mat and Sensei Tolman called the match.

She didn’t waste any time dressing us down. “Mr. Hunter, I believe I asked you to hold back to baseline level strength and speed. If you allow rage to rule you during a fight to the point where you can think of nothing else, you may find yourself seriously injured or killed. Powers or not, a sharp mind is one of the greatest weapons we have available in combat, and a dulled weapon cuts no one. Miss Gordon, while knowing your limits and choosing to not fight a battle you cannot win is a valid strategy, you are in this class to learn to defend yourself, even when it seems hopeless. Start again, this time with powers.”

I flitted back into the air and into position to fight. Huntsman came right at me again, possibly more pissed off than he was before, but this time I wasn’t going to take his shit. I couldn’t risk my magic yet, not until I got over my hobgoblin issue and had more control, but I could use my PK shell. I flew into him like a tiny rocket, putting as much power as I felt safe into it as I crashed into him. There was a cracking sound as he flew backward, crashed to the mat, and then rolled off. When he tried to get up his breathing was harsh and he was clutching his ribs with a pained expression on his face.

Sensei Tolman sighed. “Miss Gordon wins this round. Perhaps now, Mr. Hunter, you will learn your lesson about rage clouding your judgment. Report to Doyle to get your ribs looked at, it sounded like a few of them cracked. Miss Gordon, please remain behind. Everyone else, you’re dismissed.”

Just great. Now I was being called out and asked to stay behind while the others went to change, that’s never a good sign. To my surprise though, she didn’t ream me out. She simply asked, “Why did you choose to avoid his attacks and run during the first match?”

“Are you kidding me? That asshole was trying to kill me! I’m five inches tall; he could have crushed me!” I snapped in disbelief at the question.

“If Mr. Hunter was in any danger of seriously harming you, I would have intervened,” she told me sternly. “I have seen students close to your size before and, generally, being that small means that muscles and bones are condensed and far sturdier than those of a baseline. I have seen true Fairies your size who are surprisingly durable as well. Aside from that, I have seen the results of your original testing, though the school will want to do our own powers testing for you soon. You tested at Exemplar two physical capabilities, almost Exemplar three. You are much more durable than you believe yourself to be. Do not allow your perceived weakness to become a very real one by being afraid to challenge yourself.”

She couldn’t be serious. Sure, I had stopped Blythe from crushing me the night that I was rescued, and she was a lot bigger than Huntsman at the time, but that was only because of my PK shell and a magical distraction, right? “He’s an Exemplar too though, and he wasn’t holding back,” I countered. I didn’t say that he was a real Exemplar where I was only genetically engineered to mimic Exemplar traits though.

After looking pensive for a moment, she offered, “I will send you some video files of a former student to watch tonight when you have free time, maybe they can help you see what I’m talking about and find a fighting style that works for you when you’re unable to use your powers. You may go get changed and head to your next class now.”

 

 

The Quad
Thursday, September 29th, 2016 – 4:00 p.m.

I was so fucking tired. It had been a long day so far and it wasn’t even over yet. I might be done with my regular classes for the day, but now I had to return to my dorm room, where Becky would be tutoring me in magic until dinner. If I didn’t fall asleep from exhaustion first.

Most of my classes were boring academic ones except for BMA first thing in the morning and Flight, the class I had just gotten out of. I really had to work both my wings and my PK abilities in that class, and the latter in Powers Lab as well. In the academic classes, I tried to sit near the back, where I mostly remained unnoticed.

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean that I was able to avoid socializing completely. I wasn’t sure if Polly didn’t have many friends or just felt comfortable with me because I was even smaller than she was, but she wouldn’t let me eat alone during lunch. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, insisting that I needed a friend to help me out.

During that lunch hour, I sat brooding while I learned more about Polly than I ever wanted to know. She was from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, she had a twin brother named Peter whose GSD matched hers, and she had external size warping and spacial warping powers. I guess that she could shrink non-living material temporarily and shove things into a portable hole in space in case she needed them later.

As I suspected, she was also shy, self-conscious about her GSD, and not very good with people so, like me, she tended to try to hide in the background mostly. I guess she saw a kindred spirit in me, but I didn’t see it. She seemed nice, not the type to betray her best friend and drive them to madness.

She was in Hawthorne because she couldn’t control her powers very well, especially when she was tired, not concentrating, or when her attention slipped. Sometimes her powers even went off in her sleep, shrinking things or opening her pocket in space and dumping out the contents. She needed a single room and a sleeping pad rather than a bed, because when she started the year in Whitman, her roommate, who was a physical baseline, cracked her skull when her bed suddenly shrank in the middle of the night and got a bad concussion. Nobody wanted to room with her after that.

I kind of felt sorry for her, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be her friend. Not that she seemed to get that because she was doing her best to try and do so despite my foul mood and behavior indicating that that was the last thing I wanted. She practically insisted on introducing me to her twin brother Peter sometime soon. From what she said, he was a Devisor, and he had built a shrink ray that worked like her powers, only permanently. He had used it to make everyday essentials for people of their reduced stature, and she was sure that he would be willing to do the same for me too.

Against my better judgment, I agreed to accompany her to his lab in the tunnels on Saturday since I had nothing better to do after my first appointment with this Dr. Bellows person. If Polly’s brother really could shrink things like toothbrushes, books, pencils, and stuff to work for someone my size, it was too good a deal to pass up. As much as I appreciated the offer though, I kept telling myself, “She’s not your friend. You’re just using her because you’re an asshole.”

I tried not to think about that, or feel guilty, as I made my way across the Quad and back toward Hawthorne cottage, tiredly lugging my laptop case. I had been using my wings and my PK a lot today, more than I was used to, and I couldn’t wait to get back to my dorm. Even if I had a couple of hours of magic tutoring ahead with Becky, at least I could do that sitting down.

I was nearly home when an all too familiar voice said, “You’re going to pay for what you did, Fairy.” Well, shit. My first day of classes and I already made an enemy. I knew who it was before even turning to face him. How could I not with the hate he put behind the F word. No, not that F word, the one that ends with ‘airy’.

“Listen, pal, can we save this for another time? I have a magic lesson to get to,” I replied tiredly as I turned to face him.

Huntsman looked uncomfortable when I did catch sight of him, but I had seriously injured his ribs this morning, so that made sense. He looked as pissed as he sounded too, his dog-like mouth and nose were curled into a snarl. His clothes were inside out again, he stank of garlic, and he was holding a crucifix of all things as he said, “Begone! The power of Christ compels you!”

Was this bullying or an attempted exorcism? What kind of moron was this guy, anyway? I flitted over to examine the crucifix, even going so far as to touch it. “Hmm... Silver, and very nice craftsmanship. I can’t accept such a gift though; I’m not the religious sort.”

His brow furrowed in confusion and anger, and his hand was shaking as he returned the crucifix to one of many pockets of the inside-out vest he was wearing. “Laugh this off, Fairy!” he snapped as he pulled the horseshoe from around his neck and whacked me with it.

If I didn’t put my PK shell up that might have hurt. Who hits someone with a horseshoe? And a stainless steel one at that? Pure iron I could understand, weren’t the Fae supposed to be hurt by that? At least, I thought I had read that somewhere. “I said I’m not interested, Asshole. Save this bullshit for another time,” I told him bitterly. I was about to just leave when he pulled his other hand from his pocket and threw something at me. “Phttpt! Is that salt?! Are you trying to hurt me or season me, Asshole?!”

“You have to count the grains!” he insisted angrily as he pointed to the path below me and the salt that was spread across it.

By this time, I was starting to feel a little salty, if you’ll pardon the expression. He had gotten it all over me, it was in my hair, on and in my clothes, and I was already tired and grumpy from the long day and the discomfort of my period. I wasn’t putting up with this for another minute. “If you want to take a fucking inventory, do it yourself. I’m outta here.”

 

 

I was still trying to get salt off me when I got to my room and found Becky waiting outside. “How was your first day, Vanessa?” my magic tutor asked cheerfully.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” I grumbled as I shook more salt out of my hair.

“That bad, huh?” she offered sympathetically. “Well, maybe learning some magic will cheer you up.”

I used my PK to open the door to my room and led Becky inside, where I collapsed onto the pillow of the bed, letting it almost swallow me. It was comfy, like resting on a cloud, and I had slept there last night instead of using the bed in the little fairy cabin. Becky sat on the bed as well and placed the backpack she brought on the floor beside it as she asked, “So, what do you know about magic already? I heard that you have a teacher at home but haven’t had much time to study since you manifested.”

I explained to her what Marie and Leanna had shown me so far, which was mostly just consciously doing what I did instinctively when I had my first couple of magical accidents, gathering essence and focusing my will to affect the world around me and make what I wanted to happen come to pass. Unfortunately, we hadn’t gotten much further than that in practical magic because of limited time and my hobgoblins issue. They had started teaching me about magic theory, herbology, and various crystals, but we hadn’t gotten far with those subjects either.

Becky nodded along and when I finished, she said, “Well, show me what you’ve got then, and let’s see what I have to work with. Maybe we should start off with a simple light spell.” She started tapping her chin thoughtfully and then smiled. “Okay, Vanessa, this one is easy. I want you to focus on a spot in front of you and make a bright ball of light there. And make it pink, like your hair, so that it’s easy to see if you succeed or not. If we were in a workshop instead of your bedroom I’d teach you some fun fire magic, but they might get mad if we burn down Hawthorne.”

Okay, that sounded easy, it should be no problem, right?  I took a deep breath to relax and started gathering essence as I kept my focus on a spot in the air, about two feet in front of me, and how very much I wanted to see a ball of pink light there. “Focus on the spell, nothing else but the ball of pink light,” I told myself as I narrowed my focus and attempted to do just that, closing my eyes to shut out any distractions, and pushing my magic and intent toward the spot in front of me.

I heard a sharp intake of breath from Becky but when I opened my eyes, there was no light besides the ambient light from the window. There certainly wasn’t a pink ball of light. Instead, there were half a dozen fairies like me flying around the room. Well, not exactly like me, but like Frankenstein’s monster versions of me, all patchwork bodies and viciousness. Okay, maybe they were like me, nasty little science experiments that only made other people suffer. Fuck.

It was just like every other time that I consciously tried to use my magic, and Marie had a theory about the hobgoblins I was creating. She thought that when my spells misfire, my subconscious mind is influencing the form they take. All my fears, self-loathing, and doubts made manifest. Damn, I’m fucked up.

Becky managed to quickly disperse them without either of us getting hurt and instructed me to try again. The second attempt went no better than the first. More vicious fairy-like hobgoblins, except these ones looked just like me and had crimson-coated hands with blood dripping from them.

“Well, that happened,” Becky said with a shake of her head once she finished dispersing the second set of hobgoblins and sat back on the bed. “I’m sensing a theme here, is there anything you want to tell me, Vanessa?”

Was there something I should tell her? Probably. Was there something that I wanted to tell her? No way in hell. I wasn’t looking for friends or people to pity me and we didn’t know each other well enough for me to dump my origin story on her. I wisely kept my mouth shut.

After a lengthy silence, Becky let out a long sigh. “Look, I know we just met yesterday, and you probably don’t trust me yet, but if there’s anything that you ever need to talk about, my door is always open. I guess we’re not going to get anywhere by repeating this for now, so I’ll start teaching you something else instead, how about that?”

I shrugged and gave her an enthusiastic, “I guess.”

With that decision made, she pulled a book out of her pack, which she opened on the bed. “Let’s start with runic magic, the simpler forms are fairly easy and get consistent results because the runes themselves represent much of the intent. With proper knowledge of runes and the concepts they represent, you can learn spells ranging from very simple cantrips to incredibly complex spell arrays. You can use these spells in the spur of the moment by drawing or etching them onto surfaces and injecting the necessary essence, embed spell effects into gear, or have them pre-drawn on spell slips for quick use when you’re in a pinch.”

Becky spent the next hour and a half teaching me about runes, the concepts they were tied to, and some simple single-rune spells for beginners like me.  She also gave me a dire warning to always be careful around anything that might look or feel like a spell made by anyone who wasn’t me or someone I didn’t trust implicitly. I was told to never mess with anyone else’s spells and especially to never enter a magic circle unless it was one that I made and knew the purpose of. She told me that was a good way to die, or worse. She didn’t tell me what might be worse than death in that case, but I got the distinct feeling that I never wanted to find out.

 

 

After our lesson for the day was finished, Becky took me to Crystal Hall and kept me company while I ate. I didn’t ask her to, I would have rather eaten alone, but she was being like some sort of overprotective and annoying big sister. I already had two older sisters by adoption, so I didn’t need her trying to become a third. Maybe she was just trying to wear me down so I wouldn’t resist being magic buddies or whatever plans she had as my new mentor.

Honestly, what was with people sitting with me while I ate and telling me about their lives and dreams today? Did I look like I gave a shit about other people’s hopes and dreams? Did people think I was lonely and desperate for companionship? I just wanted to eat, preferably alone, but here people were trying to make friends with me.

As we ate though, Becky told me about how she wanted to be a big entertainer when she graduated. She was a fire dancer, whatever that was, and had this club called the Elemental Dance Club that she was trying to get more members for, so they could become an official school club and put on a big performance at the end of the year to show their stuff. It felt like she was trying to get me interested enough to join, but even if I did have an interest in dancing or being around other people, like at all, I didn’t think I would be a good fit.

Thinking about it just made me miss playing my instruments. Back when I was five, my mother put me in music lessons, it was just one of those things that wealthy parents did, I guess. I actually liked those lessons, and I was pretty good by the time I was ready to start high school, but then my father made me give up music and try out for the football team. Playing music relaxed me and with everything going on in my life I wished that I had one of my instruments with me now. Not that I would be able to play them, and I sincerely doubted that I would ever be able to find any instruments in my size either.

As soon as I finished eating, I told Becky I was feeling tired from my first day and wanted to get back to my dorm room. It wasn’t even a lie. Between getting around campus and some of my more intense classes, I had used both my wings and my powers more today than I had in any three days since I was placed in this body to pay for my sins. Since I was tired as a result and expected more of the same tomorrow, I really just wanted to crash.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon because I had a few class assignments that I had to do, and I had to look at those videos that Sensei Tolman had sent me as well. So, as soon as I got back to my room, I found myself turning on my laptop so I could get the assignments done, promising myself that I would look at the videos afterward before I went to sleep for the night. I was really glad that we had installed a voice recognition program on my laptop because if I had to use the keyboard with my tiny Fairy body, this was going to take all night.

 

An hour and a half later…

I was staring at the screen of my laptop and couldn’t believe my eyes. This was insane, and I wasn’t sure if I was having some strange fever dream or if that crazy Fairy girl on the screen was actually for real. I winced in sympathy as she was viciously stepped on and only morbid curiosity kept me from turning away from the screen at the audible Stomp!

I thought for sure that I must have been hearing things as a muffled, “Ow!” greeted my ears.

That was followed by another Stomp! "Stop that!” that voice called again, starting to sound irritated.

Stomp! "Stop steppin’…” Stomp!

"OK! No more Mrs. Nice Fairy!!!!" the little voice shouted as its owner zipped out from under the foot that was repeatedly trying to crush her before it could do so again and headed straight for the hem of the pant leg above it.

That was when her opponent, a large and intimidating-looking boy, even for normal-sized people began to panic, shaking his leg as he tried to get her out.  "Hey! Get out of there! What are you doing?!”

Apparently, the Fairy wasn’t one to give up though, and was one to fight dirty. A bulge moved steadily up the fabric of his pant leg, occasionally stopping and doing something to get the boy to yelp in pain and surprise. When the bulge reached the junction and the guy’s protests and yelps suddenly turned to high-pitched screaming, I found myself wincing and clasping my thighs together in sympathy. I hadn’t been a chick long enough to forget how sensitive that area was, even if he hadn’t fallen to the ground clutching at the area in question in agony as his scream finally died.

There were a couple more videos of this ‘Tink’ girl fighting normal-sized opponents, and what she did in the first video I watched was tame in comparison to them. Maybe Sensei Tolman was right about our durability after all, she certainly seemed able to take a lot of punishment. And she could hit too; her punches, tiny as her fists were, had people reacting like they’d been shot rather than punched. I fell asleep that night half terrified, and half hoping I could scrap like that myself someday.

 

 

Hawthorne Cottage
Sprite’s Room
Friday, September 30th, 2016 – 5:40 a.m.

After getting out of the shower, I found myself in front of my mirror as I tried to untangle my still-damp hair and get it arranged in something that didn’t look like a total mess. That wasn’t easy since I was still mostly avoiding mirrors and trying not to look directly at my reflection because every time I did, I saw Blythe looking back at me, and it hurt. It was a constant reminder of what she did to me… and why.

I wasn’t sure why, but today something in that half-seen reflection in the corner of my eye made me look closer. My hair and antennae looked weird, not that I looked directly at them very often. Some of the little chitinous hairs in my antennae were light blue instead of pink, enough of them so that it was getting noticeable at a glance.

Checking the roots of my hair, I noticed that that they were a different color as well, a darker blue than what I was seeing in my antennae and a stark contrast from the pink color the rest of my hair had. It was a decent amount of growth too, about the width of my baby finger. Did the natural hair color of this cloned body change along with the eyes when I manifested?

My heart fluttered in my chest as I thought about what that meant. Maybe, just maybe, this would be enough so I wouldn’t be seeing Blythe looking back every time I faced the mirror. I was tempted to find something to chop off all those pink locks right there and then, but I stopped myself. I would probably make a mess of it, I had to go get breakfast so I could get to my BMA class on time, and I might damage my antennae accidentally. I still had no idea what those were there for, other than to annoy me, and I didn’t want to find out that they were important after accidentally lopping one off. Besides, it might hurt.

Maybe Becky might know a spell to grow out my hair, so I’d have an easier time cutting off the pink and making it look half decent. I would ask her when we had our tutoring session before dinner. I was almost smiling at the thought as I made my way to Crystal Hall for breakfast.

 

 

My second day of classes was just as exhausting as my first, if not more so. Not only did I have Polly hanging around with me during breakfast and lunch trying to become my new best friend, but that dog-faced asshole, Huntsman, was following me around and probably plotting my demise as well. That was just the mentally exhausting crap though.

I was quickly discovering that the campus was much bigger to someone my size than it was to a normal-sized person and, since I wasn’t about to try walking everywhere, I was using my wings a lot to get around. It was very tiring, but I didn’t want to start using my PK as a crutch. I was getting enough of a workout just using PK in my more physical classes and carrying my shit around the campus.

My general fitness level was very good thanks to the genetic tampering of Blythe’s mother, but I just wasn’t used to using my wings or my powers this much yet. Sure, I had been doing regular exercise with both, but I never really got the chance to venture out of my room in the hospital or outside my new home. An hour of daily exercise was nothing compared to how much I was using them now and I had a feeling that it would be a while before I was used to my new daily routine.

I found myself really glad that it was Friday by the time I was in Flight class. I was getting really tired and concerned that I might be pushing myself too far. Sometimes I was getting these brief headaches. Well, not headaches, more like this strange, faint buzzing sensation in my head that was gone as quickly as I noticed it, and my flight was suffering for it. Every time it happened, I would get distracted, there would be a close call with another flyer, and I started to fall or moved in some way I didn’t plan. Several times I had to use my PK to correct my flight path, and I was looking forward to just chilling in my room for a couple of hours for magic tutoring, where I could give my wings a break.

For my magic tutoring session with Becky, we continued delving into the wonderful world of runes and she started showing me some basic rune spells and showing me how to make some spell slips for them. I asked her about a spell for hair growth, but she told me that if there was such a spell, everyone would be learning it. It was possible there were potions, or that a Devisor might be able to whip something up, but it probably wouldn’t be easy.

It also begged the question of why I wanted something to grow hair fast. When I explained that my hair was coming in a different color at the roots, and I wanted to grow it out so it would be the new color instead of pink, she seemed to accept it. At least, she did after I admitted that the pink color had bad memories attached. In the end, she told me that she would talk to a friend of hers who might be able to help with my hair issues.

Becky kept me company during dinner again, but this time she didn’t talk about herself as much. No, this time it was far worse, she was trying to get me to tell her more about myself. I wasn’t about to tell her the truth, so I kept to the cover story as much as possible and only answered, when necessary, in single-syllable answers whenever I could manage it. Maybe if I seemed uninterested enough, she would take the hint and realize that I wasn’t interested in being friends.

Honestly, that would be better for both of us. If I could get her to just accept that I wanted to keep things between us professional, then I could keep her at arms distance like I wanted, and she wouldn’t have me weighing her down and making her miserable. Or worse, driving her insane like I did Blythe. I didn’t need friends, I didn’t want them, and I certainly didn’t deserve them. I just needed to make her see that without going too far and appearing distant and uninterested seemed like the best plan for insistent people like her and Polly.

She was not so easily dissuaded. As we parted ways so I could return to Hawthorne, and the solitude of my room, she cheerfully informed me that she would talk to me tomorrow to let me know if her friend could help with my hair situation. Dammit, why did I have to bring that up earlier? Stupid! Now she probably thought I had confided in her and was just feeling vulnerable and didn’t want to talk about my traumatic past or something instead of trying to push her away.

I was preparing to head to bed early when my phone rang. I had just finished in the bathroom, replacing the cotton swab pad in my panties, and was muttering about needing more clothes, especially undergarments, when I heard it. Flitting out of my little cabin to where my phone was sitting on my desk, plugged into its charger, I looked at the screen.

It was Marie, so I put my tiny hand on the green phone icon and, making sure to apply enough pressure, I dragged my hand to the right to accept the call. “Hi, Marie, what’s up?”

“What? I can’t just call my new daughter to find out how her first few days of school went?” Marie’s familiar voice asked cheerfully.

“It’s school,” I grumbled. “You know, the usual; going to classes, meeting new people, having some nutcase who thinks all fairies are evil using every old wives’ tale imaginable to try to destroy me… that sort of stuff.”

“What?! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, Marie,” I assured her. “Seriously, the guy is a complete loon. Why he would think any of that stuff would even work on me, I don’t know. I only look like a Fairy.”

She didn’t seem reassured as she told me in a worried tone, “Just be careful, Vanessa. If he thinks to use iron, run away as fast as you can and tell security or one of your teachers.”

What was with this sudden concern about iron? “Well, he did try using a horseshoe, but it was stainless steel. I honestly think this guy is just a few cards short of a full deck. He runs with some other people who claim to be monster hunters, and he thinks he’s some sort of expert.”

“Regardless, I will be talking to someone at your school about this,” Marie replied. Oh, she did not sound happy. Then she abruptly changed the topic, telling me, “Your sisters want to talk to you, they’ve been worried about you being so far away and on your own at Whateley.”

Marie handed the phone over to Leanna and I talked to her and then Danielle for a bit. Both of them said that they missed me, but I wasn’t sure if I should believe it or not. Realistically, I had only been in their lives for a very short time. I liked them, and I had sort of grown attached, but it wasn’t like we were really family, at least not yet.

They both grilled me about the school, what it was like, and whether I had made any friends yet. Both sisters seemed very insistent that I should put myself out there and try to make friends. As Danielle said, I was now going to a school for mutants, and she was sure that I would find people here who would accept me for who I am. That wasn’t the problem, or rather it was because I already had both Polly and Becky trying to make nice and get to know me better, even as I tried to make it obvious that I wasn’t up for that.

I told them that my magic tutor was trying to fill that gap as well as teaching me magic so my adoptive sisters wouldn’t worry. I also told them that I had only been here for a few days, and I was the new kid, so people were curious but cautious for now. Neither seemed very reassured though and both tried to convince me to be more social and not hide in my room all the time. I guess they knew me better than I thought.

Finally, after her turn talking to me, Danielle passed the phone back to Marie. She was quiet for a moment before admitting, “Vanessa, while I did want to hear how things are going at school and let your sisters talk to you, there is another reason that I called.”

Okay, this sounded serious. Try as I might, I couldn’t think of anything we needed to talk about that might be as serious as she sounded. I almost thought that she might want to tell me that this adoption thing wasn’t working out, and while I felt a brief pang of fear and anguish at that thought, I quickly quashed it. Marie wasn’t like that; she had committed to this and she wouldn’t just drop me like that. I took a deep breath and then said, “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I’ve been keeping in touch with the people who were studying you at the hospital,” she began. “The investigation into Blythe and Mistress Mechanicha is still ongoing and some new things have come to light.”

“What kinds of things?” I asked, the words catching in my throat.

I heard a deep inhale on the other end of the line before she spoke again. “The team doing the investigation found some new DNA samples, that they believe belong to Blythe and her mother while searching their former home. They also found a sample in the cloning chamber that Blythe blew up when she made her escape with her mother and managed to break the encryption on some files that they found on a USB drive at the farmhouse. They think they have a general idea of what’s going on with you.”

For just an instant, I allowed myself to feel hope. “Does that mean they can fix me? Can they remove the booby traps from my DNA?”

“Vanessa… honey, you’re not broken. You need to stop thinking that way. No, they can’t do anything about the changes to your genetic code meant to kill you if you try to leave or alter that body. They know what Mechanicha was planning though, and how that affected Blythe, and now you as well,” she told me gently.

I almost collapsed as my brief hope turned to ice in my veins. So, there was truly no out after all. Still, maybe knowing this stuff might help me somehow, so I said, “Tell me.”

“Mechanicha wanted to become a Sidhe or at least some type of Sidhe crossbreed. She was hoping to gain a form of immortality or long life,” Marie explained carefully. “Blythe was her first attempt. She created a clone of herself using her DNA as the base, but re-engineered it, blending it with a sample she purchased and was told was Sidhe DNA. She decided to have Blythe age and grow up normally as her daughter while she perfected her cloning, genetic manipulation, and mind transfer devises. That sample wasn’t Sidhe DNA, though it was very similar. We believe that it was Fairy DNA and when Blythe manifested, her metagene locked onto that DNA for her base form and BIT.”

I had a bad feeling that I knew where this was going. “Are you saying that Blythe and I are part actual Fairy?”

“Blythe is…” she said before pausing to consider her words. “From the sample they found, they believe her DNA to be about a quarter Fairy. When your body was cloned from Blythe, the genetic alterations that Mechanicha made were to the Fairy genes. Those genes can’t be safely changed, so the doctors believe that when you manifested, your metagene latched onto that DNA further for stability and started changing your other non-altered genes to Fairy genes. That’s why you developed your allergy to synthetics. You’ll need to avoid iron now as well, and you’ll probably find yourself unable to eat red meat soon.”

“So, what? I’m, like, half Fairy or something now?” I asked. That bad feeling was only getting worse the longer that this conversation continued. It did explain the allergy and my recent eating habits, but what the fuck was I now?

Again, she took a moment to consider her words before speaking. “Vanessa, the geneticists compared samples from when you arrived at the hospital to a sample I took before you left for school. You’re still changing, and soon there probably won’t be much left but the Fairy DNA and your metagene.”

“I…” I had absolutely no clue what I should say to that, so I spoke from the heart. “Well, shit.”

 

To Be Continued