Wendy leaned against the pillar, glassy eyed and hunched over, trying to fight off something invisible. She was having one of those 'clear eyed' moments, where she could see everything better than she should be able to. Where everything was brighter, and a slight humming noise rose in her ears.

Almost like bees...if bees could sing. She thought tiredly, shutting her eyes and forcing herself back to her task. Thankfully they'd gotten rid of her 'keeper' after two days where she remained stable. She was tired of being treated like some sort of delicate snowflake. I can handle myself. I'm not dangerous, Gods curse it.

But some part of her kept insisting that not all was right. She felt-- off. Although her hands moved in steady motions her eyes fluttered focusing on different things of their own accord. There was that precipice again-- and Wendy clutched her broom tighter, feeling a splinter bite into her skin. It brought her back to the moment, and she was surprised to see that her hands were still moving automatically.

Well, nobody can accuse me of not working well enough.

Bronley had been working himself up for this for days. He didn't know what to do. He could barely cast a spell. His field was a shambles. He'd even seen one of his professors wince at the feel of it, when the woman had thought he was not looking.

He hadn't meant to. He wanted that girl to know he hadn't meant to do it. By the Gods, he was sorry. Everything he hadn't been able to see before had been thrown into stark relief. She was grieving because Bronley had felt like taking his anger out on someone else.

He took a deep breath and walked over to where she was sweeping. "Miss, if you have a moment, may I speak with you?"

Wendy was broken out of her reverie by the sound of a voice and she looked up sharply, unafraid to meet the eyes of whoever wanted to speak with her. She was done with that. But she wasn't prepared to see the boy in front of her.

Her lips tightened into a thin line and the hands on her broom turned white as she clutched it. "I'm surprised you would ask," She managed to gasp out, as she had a small flashback. The boy, the knife--

Again the sharpening of the room, bright-- clear-- Her lips trembled and a tear spilled out of her eyes. She brushed it aside angrily, staring at the boy with what could only be described as pure hatred. "There is nothing you could possibly have to say to me right now." She snarled, barely holding herself back.

It was him. Oh Alioe, it was him and he's here and I could kill him. I should fucking kill him right now.

The more rational part kept her at bay, but she looked as if she was on the brink of tearing his eyes out.

Bronley would once have wanted to strike her for her insolence. Now it only humbled him, caused his field to crackle uncomfortably and caused a heavy weight to bear down on his chest. He wanted her to hit him, hurt him, balance the scales with some fitting punishment.

He kneeled in front of her, hands on his knees, with his head bowed low.

"I am sorry, I can't make this right again. I took him away and it doesn't matter how I did it, he's gone and I can't bring him back for you." The flashes that Bronley had seen had contained this girl, she had loved Pascual. "I owe you a bottomless debt and I will never be able to repay it."

If she wanted to cut off his ear, take out his heart, anything... Anything that was his, she could have. He wanted to die, he deserved to.

"No, you won't." she spat, shaking with fury, "You--" Wendy could barely get the words out, "You disgust me." She panted at the effort it took.

"All of you. All of you useless pathetic pigfaced galdori-- you all disgust me." She laughed harshly, "Look at you, down there. Groveling like a scrap! I know what you want!" Her voice had risen to a slightly hysterical level.

"You want me to hit you. You want me to hit you so you can feel better about all of it. Then it will be done. And you can go back to school the next day with a bruise on your face-- and the teachers will ask 'who has done this to you' and you will reply 'that passive--'."

Wendy's voice shook, "And then, they'll cart me away. And you won't have to think about me-- or-- or--" she couldn't say his name and a sob wracked her chest, "OR HIM! YOU WON'T HAVE TO LIVE WITH IT LIKE I WILL!"

More tears. Finally more tears. She hadn't been able to cry since that night but these didn't make her feel better. They made her feel worse. "You want forgiveness? Ask Alioe for forgiveness. You wont get it from me."

The words burned her mouth as they shot out, and after she was done Wendy felt weak. Tired, again. She hadn't slept...hadn't really eaten. Her moods had been swinging back and forth like a crazy pendulum and she barely spoke to the others.

"You said so yourself," she whispered, misery and anguish coating her words, "He's gone."

I felt him die.

"Now get away from me, before I--" The fury was back in her eyes and she didn't even bother finishing her sentence.

Bronley's voice shook as he replied. "Never, I'd never tell anyone. They don't get it, they don't get it!"

Bronley looked up at her with startled, fierce eyes.

"This haunts me, every day. I can't sleep, I can't eat. I don't deserve to." Bronley's hate for himself was obvious, as was his despair. "I saw him, before he died I saw him as though I had known him my whole life. I don't care about the teachers or the students, I'm surviving this when they should be crushing me into paste."

Bronley did not bother to stand. "This will never be done. Now I am endebted you, for anything, anything you want for the rest of your life. No questions, no absolution."

Bronley's brown eyes were wet, his face scrunched up and ugly.

"THEY SHOULD BE THEY SHOULD BE!" Wendy screamed at him, taking her broom and hitting him once before backing away, in terror. I'm done for. I'm done for and I don't care. I don't care about anything anymore. "BUT THEY'RE NOT!" Tears were streaming down her face freely and now her face was as ugly and hurt as his.



"What did we ever do to you? TO ANY OF YOU?" She cried out, backing away, "I don't WANT A SERVANT! I DON'T WANT A SLAVE! G-gods. Gods. All I want is to undo this and I can't! I can't bring him back and you--"

Trapped. I'm trapped. All my life I've been trying to avoid this and this one man has finally done it. Trapped me. I hit him. Oh Alioe I hit him.

"I should be killing you with my bare hands right now. I sh-should be--" She moaned as her knees collapsed on her for the second time in her life and she clutched at her apron. "I can't, I can't oh Gods...P-P--"

Say his name! FOR SHAME!

"Pascual..." it came out in a whisper, but it hurt. Oh it hurt. She clutched her sides and gasped.

"You bastard. All of you-- all of you are bastards..."

Bronley flinched as the broom hit but it didn't hurt anywhere near enough.

He watched as Wendy wept and cursed at him, at his race.

"What if I got you out?" He asked, voice soft, skin gone pale. "If I got you out of here, somewhere you could have a normal life? Would you let me."

He looked away, unable to face her anymore. "I can kill myself if you want or I can live with this knowing you will never forgive me. Which is more punishment?"

Wendy sat, hunched over and furious at this galdor. "You know nothing of punishment," she hissed, lifting herself and walking over to where he was kneeling. "I've lived with punishment my whole life. No...what you're feeling...what you're feeling is just the beginning."

She lifted her leg and aimed a kick at his face, intending to keep on kicking until she couldn't recognize that damn thing.

"You offer me a normal life, when your entire race has branded my arm as if I were some sort of farm animal!"

Bronley accepted her words and her beating. It hurt, she was too strong for it not to. He embraced the pain, it was a relief. It was a relief to suffer for what he had done. He almost wanted to thank her.

If he lived another day, he was leaving Brunnhold. He couldn't live like this any more, he couldn't live knowing he was enslaving people like Pascual actively and by his own ignorance. He couldn't live knowing that all the power he'd strived for was either useless or used for ill purpose. The joy he'd used to feel had died, he could no longer see the beauty in his magic.

When Wendy was done with him, Bronley's face was a bloody pulp. The passive trembled as she stepped away, and hot tears of anger ran down her face. Although her mouth had dried out, she gathered up what moisture she could and spat it onto the ground next to him.

"That is was I think of your offering." she hissed, wiping her face off quickly and walking away in a stiffly dignified manner without once looking back. Of this, she would have no regrets.

Bronley felt no relief here but he could lose himself in the beating. He hoped never to wake up, to spend the rest of his life elsewhere, to fix part of the gaping hole he had left. He didn't even bother to cry out.

He fell into unconsciousness gratefully.

It took an hour before anyone found him and by that stage his heart had almost stopped.