Reckless Souls (Saints Academy, #1)(43)

One way or another, even if I never have proof, I’ll make them weak, vulnerable, and bruised at my

hands.

Movement to my left gains my attention as Zen moves to step in-between Thalia and me, and I

frown, waiting for him to look at me, but instead he simply stands with his hands linked in front of

him, his shoulders relaxed back in a calm stance as he watches the Professor.

My skin prickles in anticipation at his nearness, but when he continues to practically ignore me, I

find my eyes casting back to the remainder of his group who stand a little further to the left in the

circle, watching the pair of us.

Screw that.

Turning my attention to the Professor, just as Zen does, I focus on the class at hand. I'm not about

to let these assholes distract me. No fucking way.

“Okay, today is going to be about learning the skills and abilities of the artifacts chosen by

Pandora’s Box for you,” Professor Fury begins, and I immediately panic, as do a few others, because

I didn’t bring the dagger with me, but he quickly waves his hand dismissively as he feels the wave of

panic wash over the room. “Don’t worry, we won’t be working specifically with yours this year,

that’s more of a second year matter, but for now, we’re going to look at the different types you may

receive, and learn what they can do. Wielding them expertly is another process entirely, and as much

as this is a full on Academy, we’re not going to push you that far into the deep-end to begin with.”

A mixture of nerves and excitement battle inside me at today's lesson. Knowing my dagger is an

artifact chosen specifically for me, fills me with excitement, but remembering what those fuckers

were able to do to with that staff yesterday makes me nervous. Anyone could attack me at any time

with their item from Pandora’s Box, and there’s not much I can do about it if I’m at a disadvantage

like I was then.

“There are two types of artifacts you can receive, but knowing which one you have can be

difficult to decipher sometimes, or at least to begin with. You see, it could be defensive or offensive.”

My interest is piqued, my brain desperate to learn more about my own tool, which I can only assume

is offensive since it’s a dagger. “Don’t be fooled at first glance, what you see isn’t always what you

get, just like you shouldn’t always judge a book by its cover,” he states, before pulling a small, golden

item from his pocket and holding it out for everyone to see.

“This is my harmonica. Yes, it can carry a tune. No, I don't play it. Yes, it looks like nothing,

which is what I thought all along too, until I dropped it one day by accident,” he explains, before

repeating what he just said and letting the golden object fall to the floor with a clatter.

As soon as it bounces the first time, a bubble forms around the Professor, making a few gasps fill

the room as my eyes round in surprise.

Holy shit.

“If someone tries to throw an object or anything at all toward me, it would bounce right off. Of

course, a harmonica has no offensive qualities, but it is a rare defensive item,” he states, turning to

look at Hector. “Throw something.” He points toward the harmonica as Hector pats his legs.

“I haven’t got anything,” he mumbles, coming up empty, but Fury simply shrugs.

“Then kick it.”

Hector doesn’t need any further encouragement as he moves toward the device and the bubble

surrounding it. He swings his leg back, hitting the barrier with full force, only to recoil with the

impact, feet lifting off the ground as he flies across the space, landing in a heap.

The room breaks into a fit of laughter at the scene as Hector quickly scurries to his feet, swiping

his hands down his clothes as he glares at Professor Fury who pays him no mind in return.

“Excellent demonstration,” he calls out, before clasping the object in his hand as we all watch the

bubble disappear before our eyes. “It all began long before the war, when only Gods existed,” he

explains, moving on completely without another glance toward Hector to check on him. “Pandora’s

Box, Zeus’ Shield, and Poseidon’s Trident, were the first three mythical objects to grace the world for

a long time, and although Pandora’s Box offers gifts to those that are indeed gifted, those three items

are indeed the most deadly.”

I squint as he walks by, observing the harmonica as Zen shuffles slightly beside me, his arm

grazing mine, and I shiver at the simple touch. Attempting to glance at him out of the corner of my eye

discreetly, proves pointless when I find him already looking at me.

His mousy blond hair looks soft as it practically glows in the sunlight, the earthy scent that

naturally seems to float around him reeling me in hard and fast. “I’m sorry someone hurt you,” he

mumbles, the sound of the Professor drifting away in the distance as Zen holds me in a trance.

“Did you hurt me?” I ask, barely able to breathe as my eyes remain transfixed on his hazel orbs.

“I did not,” he responds quickly, his brows knitting together in confusion at my question.