Chapter 19: Tears of Blood and Broken Wings

The infirmary of the Arcane School of Luxflutuante was a sanctuary of silence and cold. Gray stone walls, tall and imposing, absorbed any sound, except for the soft dripping of some magical potion and the low murmur of healing incantations. The air smelled of ether, medicinal herbs, and something else… a subtle hint of ozone, a remnant of the magic that hung in the air.

Gabriel lay unconscious in one of the marble beds, his thin body almost lost under the white, immaculate sheets. His face, normally pale, was now marked by a sickly greenish tinge, contrasting with the bandages on his leg and the cast that immobilized his left arm, now at an awkward and painful angle.

Beside the bed, sitting on an uncomfortable wooden stool, Seraphine Noctaria feigned indifference. The curse's transformation had subsided, leaving only a remnant of her fury in her eyes, now a dull ruby, and in her fangs, slightly elongated. But the bat ears were gone. The nose, stubbornly, retained its bat-like shape. The tears, damn tears, stubbornly rolled down her face, leaving damp trails that mixed with Gabriel's dried blood on her black dress. He made her cry. He, with his irritating fragility.

She held his hand – the hand without Fay's annoying stamp – with a force that she considered "necessary" to monitor his pulse. It wasn't affection. It would never be affection. It was just… a procedure. An… obligation, since she was the one "responsible". After all, she had put him in that situation. Because of him, of course. If he would just bother to be minimally competent…

The silence was broken by a low groan. Gabriel stirred in bed, and his eyes slowly opened, finding the stone ceiling of the infirmary. He blinked, confused, trying to understand where he was and what had happened.

"G-Gabriel…?" His name escaped Seraphine's lips before she could stop it. A weak, choked, ridiculous sound. She mentally reprimanded herself. Control yourself, Seraphine!

He turned his head with difficulty, pain creasing his forehead. His eyes met hers, and for an instant, Seraphine felt a tightness in her chest. A… strange sensation. Unpleasant. He was looking at her as if she were… what? A savior? Pathetic. He better not get any ideas…

"S-Seraphine… what… what happened?" His voice was a hoarse, weak whisper. Irritatingly weak.

Seraphine averted her gaze, staring at the cold wall of the infirmary. The tears burned in her eyes again, and she hated them for it. What a pathetic scene!

"You… got hurt," she said, her voice dry, almost harsh. "Obviously. You look like a dog hit by a cart... and mind you, we don't even have those here, you useless thing."

Everything was spinning amidst a chaos of color and noise, making Gabriel doubt if he had actually died. Am I dead? The thought passed with the clarity of lightning for Gabriel.

He blinked, trying to focus. Fragments. Lilith… her smile… before the pain. Seraphine… screaming? Fire, everywhere. And… a desk? The memory came with a throbbing pain in his arm, so intense that it made him groan.

"My… arm… my… leg…" he groaned, amidst the pain.

"You were hit by a desk," Seraphine replied, her voice a little more controlled, but still with a tone of accusation, as if he were to blame. "I… threw it. Accidentally, of course. But you also… shouldn't have been in the way, you useless mutt."

The pain was a hot, throbbing haze, clouding Gabriel's thoughts. But, through the haze, Seraphine's face emerged, blurred. Is she crying? Gabriel thought, confused. Seraphine? It wasn't anger he felt at seeing her tears, nor fear. Great… I'm screwed and still hearing complaints… from who, no less, he thought sarcastically.

"It's… okay…" he said, with an effort, trying to sound less pathetic than he felt, and failing miserably. "You… didn't… mean to… What a load of crap... that won't make it hurt any less."

Seraphine looked at him, incredulous, her eyes sparking and, suddenly, welling up. How could he be so… forgiving? So… human? It was irritating. Deeply irritating. That worm was being kind... what audacity.

"No…" she said, shaking her head, but the words came out weaker than she intended. "It wasn't… an accident… I mean, it was an accident, but… I was… angry… And you… you're so… fragile… So... slow..."

The words were like stones in her mouth, heavy and hard to swallow. She didn't want to admit any of that. She didn't want to show vulnerability. But the words came out, uncontrolled, like a hemorrhage she couldn't staunch.

"I should have been more careful," said the vampire in a choked voice, as if she were holding back tears. "It wasn't my intention… But that doesn't matter now, you idiot." She straightened her posture as usual, wiping her face with the back of her hands and giving a slight tug on the hem of her dress, which stubbornly kept riding up. "I care about you, Gabriel" – The words escaped almost in a whimper, and at this instant, the vampire wished to turn back time so as not to have said that aloud, mentally cursing. "I mean… Don't get your hopes up, worm, it's the least I can say, after all I hurt you, you… useless thing. And I'm not worried, you idiot, I just don't want the trouble, with another guard dog!"

The door to the infirmary opened, and Greta and Lira entered, their faces marked by concern. But, upon seeing the scene – Seraphine holding Gabriel's hand, the tears (which she was trying, uselessly, to hide) running down her face, the expression of… something she couldn't decipher in her eyes – they stopped, surprised.

"Seraphine…?" Greta began, her voice soft, hesitant.

The vampire turned to her friends, and for an instant, the mask of arrogance and pride almost recomposed itself. But then, seeing Greta's gentle gaze, she collapsed again, unable to hold back the tears. Damn Noctaria curse!

"I… I'm a useless idiot…" She murmured, her voice muffled by a sob she couldn't control.

Greta, slightly surprised and even a little frightened by Seraphine's unusual honesty, approached cautiously, offering an awkward hug.

"Come on, Sera, look on the bright side, now Gabriel is officially your dog / boyfriend." Greta spoke in a teasing tone.

... Greta hugs and consoles her, with a cupped hand, stroking the vampire's hair, who cries in silence. Lira, in her aquarium, approached the bed and, with her tail, lightly touched Gabriel's plastered arm, tapping it a few times, as if offering her silent support. Gabriel, dazed by the medication, falls asleep again.

The atmosphere was charged with emotion, a complex web of guilt, fear, concern, and… perhaps… something more. Seraphine sniffled, trying to contain her tears. She took a deep breath, feeling Gabriel's faint, sweet scent invade her nostrils, triggering the trigger in her mind.

The memory hit her like a lightning bolt.

(Flashback – Courtyard of Shadows)

The greenish mist swirled around her, creating an unreal, almost dreamlike atmosphere. Seraphine, upside down, hanging from the stone column like an elegant bat, watched Gabriel approach. A predatory smile played on her lips.

He seemed so… small. So… insignificant. A human, lost in a world that didn't belong to him. A perfect toy.

"He'll be mine," thought Seraphine, feeling a wave of possessiveness. "My servant. My dog. My… source of amusement."

The idea of dominating that human, of bending him to her will, of making him crawl for a bit of her attention, excited her in a perverse way. She imagined the games she could play, the provocations, the veiled threats… The fear in his eyes would be a delicious spice.

Gabriel called her strange frequently, without knowing how right he was.

When he cleared his throat, announcing his presence, Seraphine let herself fall from the column, landing with a theatrical grace that she knew was irritating. It was part of the game. The superiority. The distance. He was the prey; she, the huntress.

"Oh! Heavens… Just look at this! The human… actually… showed up!"

Her voice, amplified by the magic of the Courtyard, sounded like a whip, cracking in the air. She approached Gabriel, taking those ridiculous little hops, feeling his gaze, confused and nervous, on her. It was so easy to manipulate him.

"I swear by my vampiric ancestors, I almost thought you were going to… chicken out!"

The lie came smoothly from her lips. She never doubted that he would come. After all, who would dare disobey a Noctaria?

"Confess, human! What brought you to this place… so… gloomy… so… little… human? Could it be that my… irresistible… order seduced you more than your fear of the dark? Or is it…"

She leaned in, her face inches from his, feeling his scent – sweat, fear, and something else… a sweet, almost cloying touch. Chocolate. How vulgar.

"… could it be that my invitation… had… a certain… personal… appeal?"

At that moment, there was no "personal appeal." Only the amusement of seeing a human squirm under her power. That was a "dating request", but she thought sarcastically about fun and easy prey, the night in the Shadow Courtyard would be the beginning of a long and fun game of cat and mouse. Or, better yet, of vampire and… snack.

(End of Flashback)

Seraphine shuddered, returning to the cold and silent reality of the infirmary. The memory of that night, once a trophy in her collection of cruelties, now burned her like acid. Had she really thought of Gabriel as a toy? A… thing? The word echoed in her mind, an insult that now turned against herself.

She closed her eyes, squeezing her eyelids tightly, as if trying to erase the images, the thoughts. But they persisted, clear and cruel. She saw herself in the Courtyard, elegant and cruel, playing with a frightened human. A Player. An inferior creature, in her mind.

Inferior. The word had always sounded natural to her, a mantra repeated since childhood. Humans were weak. Disposable. The "Players," then, were the scum. But now… now the word seemed to scratch her throat, as if it were… wrong. Wrong, she mentally corrected, but not because of him. He was still an annoying human. She was… different. Blame the Noctaria curse, for sure. Always the curse's fault.

She opened her eyes and stared at her own hand, which had held Gabriel's that night, like a hunter holding a prey's leash. She had squeezed his hand. And to think that she had felt disgust… Disgust at touching a human. Disgust at that warm skin, that… living scent.

Seraphine shuddered, returning to the cold and silent reality of the infirmary. The memory of that night, once a trophy in her collection of cruelties, now scratched at her insides, like ground glass. Had she really thought of Gabriel as a toy? A… thing? The word echoed in her mind, a distorted echo of her own voice, now loaded with a… discomfort that she refused to name. That idiot human's fault, she thought irritably, always getting into trouble.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to push away the images, the sensations. But they returned, insistent. She, in the Courtyard, elegant and cruel, a perfect Noctaria. He, huddled, frightened. A Player. An inferior creature.

Inferior… The word had always sounded natural to her, a mantra repeated since the cradle. Humans were weak. Disposable. The "Players," then, the scum. But now… now the word seemed to scratch her throat, as if it were… wrong. Wrong, she mentally corrected, but not because of him. He was still an annoying human. She was… different. Blame the Noctaria curse, for sure. Always the curse's fault.

She opened her eyes and stared at her own hand, which still held Gabriel's. His skin, warm and soft, contrasted with her icy coldness. Before, she had felt disgust. Now… what? Concern? A twinge of… affection? Seraphine jerked her hand away. As if she had been burned!

Seraphine pulled her hand away, as if she had been burned. Ridiculous. She didn't feel affection for humans. Much less for Players. It was just… irritation. Yes, irritation. Irritation that he was so weak. So vulnerable. So… human. And so clumsy! If he didn't get into trouble, she wouldn't have to… to… Damn it.

The tears came, hot and unexpected. She hated them with all her might. She hated that weakness, that… sentimentality. It was the Noctaria curse, for sure. A curse that forced her to feel too much, to care too much… No!, she thought firmly, as she angrily wiped her cheeks, as if she were scrubbing dirt off a clean garment. They were just tears of anger. Anger at him, for being so weak and for making her feel… like this. Anger at herself, for letting herself be affected by him.

Anger at that abyss that opened up between what she should feel and what… threatened to feel. That idiot human's fault, of course. Always his fault.

She looked at Gabriel, his face pale and serene, his arm now in place, but still fragile, wrapped in bandages and Elven healing magic. And, for the first time in her long life, Seraphine felt a twinge of… uncertainty. An irritating, corrosive uncertainty that made her want to… run away. Scream. Break something, preferably something that reminded her of him. He made her feel like that. That insignificant human.

He blinked and stared at her, his brown eyes still clouded from the brief nap.

"S-Seraphine…?" His voice, weak and hoarse, hit her, not as an accusation – that she expected, that she would know how to handle – but as… a cry for help?

She recoiled, as if she had been slapped. Pathetic. She wasn't anyone's help. Much less a human's. And she definitely wasn't worried.

"Shut up, worm," she snarled, trying to regain her usual pose, but failing miserably. "Save your strength, you useless thing. You'll need it. And don't look at me as if I were some kind of… of… heroine."

Gabriel blinked, confused by her reaction. He was going to say something, but was interrupted by the arrival of Greta and Lira.

"Seraphine…?" Greta began, her voice soft and hesitant, but soon changing to an amused tone as she observed the scene carefully. "Wow, what's the atmosphere here? It seems someone finally decided to make the… relationship official?"

Lira, in her aquarium, let out a high-pitched giggle, the bubbles forming words in Merfolk: "I told you! I always knew it!"

Seraphine glared at the two of them.

"Don't be ridiculous, you brainless orc!" She hissed, her face flushing, but not with shame, of course, it was with anger. "And you, talking fish, stop releasing those idiotic bubbles! There's no relationship! He's just a… a…"

"A weak, clumsy, irritating human who, by chance, you just almost killed?" Greta completed, with an amused smile. "Yes, clearly there are no feelings involved."

"Maybe…" Lira began, with a dreamy air, the bubbles forming new words: "… a forbidden love…"

"Shut up, Lira!" Seraphine and Greta shouted in unison.

Gabriel, observing the scene, felt a mixture of confusion and… amusement? The argument was so absurd, so… Seraphine. And, as much as she denied it, he knew there was something more there. He saw it in her eyes, felt it in her touch.

"Seraphine…" he began, but was interrupted.

"Don't interfere, human," Seraphine growled, but her voice faltered a little. "This is none of your business."

Before the discussion could continue, a small hologram of Fay appeared beside Gabriel's bed, interrupting the moment, and hovering close to him.

"Gabriel…" Fay's voice, although maintaining the usual amused tone, had a different note, something more… serious, she's never serious!? The Goddess clears her throat before continuing. "We need to talk. Urgently. It's about your future, my young man… and… well…" She paused dramatically, as if she were holding back a laugh (or an evil plan). "…about the fact that you're completely useless in this world."

Gabriel gulped. That didn't sound good.

But, before he could ask anything, the infirmary door opened with a bang. It wasn't Oracio, but Professor Akane, her normally serene face now marked by an expression of deep concern and… sadness.

"Seraphine…" Akane began, her voice choked. "I need you… to go to your dormitory. Immediately. And… and pack your bags."

Seraphine paled. What?

"Principal Evangeline…" Akane continued, with difficulty. "…she called your parents. They… they'll be here tomorrow."

Silence fell over the infirmary, heavy and oppressive. The news hung in the air like a death sentence.

"You… you've been expelled, Seraphine," Akane concluded, her voice almost a whisper.