The Fan and the Flame V
Life continued like that for a while. My parents would hire another instructor. I would eventually kill them. They started bringing in people to teach me how to use my magic as well, which I excelled at even more than combat. There was one particular instructor I liked, a mage named Reya who was hired when I was thirteen. I didn't want to kill her. She helped me sneak letters to and from Taziel, which was probably a foolish move on her part, since my father found out. There wasn't much I could do at that point. What feels like cruelty today will show itself to be a lesson tomorrow. That's what my mother said when she told me it was my job to dispose of Reya. I could have argued, but it wouldn't have made a difference, so I didn't bother. My father told Reya they would give her a second chance, and told me to make sure she was gone by the end of the next day. I knew they would be watching. The next day we had our usual lesson. I demonstrated my magic, and Reya was impressed, though she had a few suggestions. I took them into account and tried again. This time, I didn't do as good of a job of avoiding Reya. She screamed as her eyes glowed red, burning through her skull, and when the glow faded, she crumpled to the ground. I heard clapping from the window where my parents were watching. It wasn't fair. Reya was just helping me. The magic was still flowing, and it formed into a red glow around Reya. After a few moments, she gasped and opened her eyes. My parents ran outside, my mother looking more shocked than my father. "She has the gift," she whispered, eyes shining with pride. "I thought it had been taken forever, even from her!" "Well done, Sanctity," my father agreed. He looked at Reya. "But she still needs to be disposed of." Reya scrambled back, and I looked between my parents. My mother gave me an encouraging smile. "Go on, dear," she said. And so, for the second reluctant time that day, I killed my favorite instructor.