Zodiac Academy 2: Ruthless Fae

Good morning Gemini.

The stars have spoken about your day!

With an event bringing many people together around you, you’ll soon be caught up in the excitement. And rightly so too, after so much effort has been put into a project you’ve been working on, you’ll finally find yourself reaping the rewards. 

If you tread carefully things will flow smoothly, but one wrong move could incur the wrath of your enemies.

I groaned sleepily as I turned my Atlas over, not really absorbing its message. I squinted toward the window, finding the dark sky staring back at me. After the party last night, my head was pounding and I’d had many dreams about Lance.

Professor Orion, I correctly sharply in my head. I had to forget about that kiss, but holy shit it felt like it was permanently branded on my lips.

I slid out of bed, combing my fingers through my hair. I’d stayed up late discussing Astrum’s latest card with Tory. But all we could conclude was that we had to be careful drawing closer to the lunar eclipse and hope that our questions really would be answered on the day. In all honesty, the cards seemed like a way to drive us to madness. If Astrum knew something we needed to hear, why had he set up this convoluted game to tell us? Why not just spell it out plainly?

As I came to my senses, I pushed away my negative thoughts and excitement started up a fanfare in my heart. There was a reason I was awake so early. And it was one of the best reasons I could think of to be awake at the butt crack of dawn.

I showered and dressed in jeans and a cream sweater, pulling on the navy blue Pitball jacket that had been hanging in my closet since day one. It was lined with silver stripes up the sleeves and Zodiac Academy was printed across the back in the same colour. Kneeling down, I pushed aside the coat I’d folded at the bottom of the closet and took out the paper bag I’d wrapped the Griffin poo in.

A wide smile pushed at my cheeks. Time to take down another Heir.

I stuffed it in my satchel, hanging it over my shoulder and grabbing my Atlas on the way out of the door. All was quiet in Aer Tower and my anticipation grew as I sped down the stairs, rushing through the exit. Luckily it wasn’t raining but a thick fog hung over the grounds, making it difficult to see as I made my way toward Earth Territory by the light of my Atlas.

Though it chilled me a little to do so, I took the route through The Wailing Wood and cut a direct path to the centre of campus. I jogged past The Orb and made my way into the north western corner of campus. I hadn’t often come close to the Pitball Stadium but I’d seen it a few times and been drawn to its shining exterior.

It rose up high above me; rectangular in shape with curved metal walls. On top of it was a huge silver dome which covered the entire pitch. I jogged around to the back entrance and found Geraldine waiting there for me with a key as we’d arranged.

“Holy raincoats, your majesty,” she said as I slowed to a halt in front of her. “It’s a misty morning indeed.”

“It is,” I laughed softly. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Not at all, it’s my absolute star-given pleasure to assist you and Tory. How was the party last night? My father says you were both the shimmering shellfish of his evening.”

“Yes, it was great to meet him,” I said earnestly.

“I know he can seem a little goody-two-shoes at first. He’s not like me with my rebellious ways and cockamamy mouth. I do hope he wasn’t too proper. I know you and your sister prefer the company of scallywags like me.”

“No er…he was very um-” I had no idea how to respond to her mad assessment of herself.

“Oh begonias!” Geraldine gasped, looking over my shoulder. “Good morning, you’re looking most majestic on this blessed day, your highness.”

I turned to find Tory trudging along with the hood of her new coat pulled up and a scowl gripping her features. She pushed her hood back, tugging off her headphones and shivering. “It’s cold and I’m dog tired and hungover but this is so worth it,” she said through a long yawn.

I beamed. “Once we get this done, we can go grab some coffee.”

“No no no.” She shook her head. “The match isn’t until one. So I’m going back to bed for another six hours.”

I laughed, turning to Geraldine as she unlocked the door and we slipped into a dark corridor which led under the stands. Adrenaline trickled through me and I found myself prancing along behind Geraldine as she guided the way, switching on lights as she went.

“Have you got the griffin turd?” Tory asked, jogging to my side with another yawn.

“Obviously,” I said, taking it from my pocket it and waving it at her.

She wrinkled her nose, wincing away from it. “You can do the crumbling.”

“I will be most honoured to do the crumbling,” Geraldine said before I could argue. “And I also brought a special gift for one of the other Heirs with me.” A dark glimmer entered her eyes as she glanced back at us and I squealed in excitement.

“I love targeting these assholes,” Tory said with a grin.

We followed Geraldine into a huge locker room and she headed straight for a row of lockers at the centre where a wide space was divided by a long bench. Hanging from a rack were a row of ten shiny bags in the same blue and silver colours of my Pitball jacket, each with a surname blazing on the side of it.

“Normally I’d never get access to the other player’s kits. But these were delivered just yesterday. They’re brand new for the match against Starlight Academy today.” Geraldine brushed her fingers over the bag marked Rigel with a visible shiver. “Smell that?” she breathed and I glanced at Tory.

“Um…no?” Tory said.

“It smells like the Heirs’ lives falling apart,” she said dramatically.

“Oh good,” I chuckled, hurrying forward with the Griffin poo.

Geraldine produced some plastic gloves from her pocket and I had to admire how prepared she was for this. “I am happy to do it alone.”

“I want to actually,” I said keenly, taking a pair and Tory plucked the other from her grip.

“Yep, I’m in so long as there’s gloves. You got us in here Geraldine, you’ve done plenty.”

Geraldine’s eyes brimmed with proud tears for a moment and she bowed low, stepping back to watch as I unzipped the bag and pulled out Max’s navy and silver kit. It consisted of a large shirt with Waterguard printed above his surname, a pair of long shorts, socks and steel capped boots. We first turned each item inside out then I took out the solid lump of poo and broke it in half, handing one bit to Tory. 

We started rubbing it on the inside of his clothes and were soon laughing madly as we layered every inch in a fine powder of Griffin shit. This kit was going to make his whole body turn purple and lumpy from the toxic poop and he’d be forced to quit the match to go and soak it off.

We stuffed the poo back in the bag and I tossed it into the trash before we carefully hung the kit back up and returned it to his bag.

When we were done, we stripped the gloves off and high fived, grinning wickedly.

“I can’t wait to see his face,” Tory said and I nodded excitedly.

A glint caught my eye and I glanced over Tory’s shoulder, spotting Geraldine rubbing glitter into the crotch of Caleb’s shorts.

“Geraldine!” I gasped. “That’s genius.”

She beamed, folding the shorts away and zipping up the bag. “Those nincompoops won’t know what hit them.”

“Hurricane Geraldine hit them,” I said and she fell into frantic laughter, snorting intermittently.

“Blazing ballerinas, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.” She snorted again and I couldn’t help but join in with her laughter.

“We’d better get out of here,” Tory said with a smirk and we headed after her.

We made sure there was no trace of our attack left behind as we hurried back out of the stadium, finding the dawn starting to seep into the sky.

We headed toward The Orb and I tempted Tory inside before she disappeared back to her bed as the scent of freshly baked pastries sailed from inside.

“Okay five minutes,” she said hungrily as we walked through the empty space. 

I grabbed a still-warm cinnamon swirl then filled up a mug of coffee while Geraldine hovered around me, trying to do everything for me instead.

“It’s fine, Geraldine, really. I’d rather do it myself,” I promised and she darted toward Tory, nearly scalding herself as she tried to push a mug under the coffee machine before my sister could.

We soon sat down at our usual spot at the centre of the room and all at once, our Atlases pinged loudly. I took mine out as the others did the same, frowning as I read the notification on the screen.

Zodiac Academy has been mentioned in The Celestial Times!

I clicked the button with a note of dread resounding through me, finding exactly what I feared. An article entitled The Return of the Lost Heirs by Gustav Vulpecula was on the first page of the site, headed with a photograph of Tory and I at the party which I had no recollection of him taking. We stood apart from the crowd with drinks in our hands and a general air of discomfort about us.

United, the Vega Twins entered the Acrux ballroom like they were born conjoined and were yet to be severed. Upon meeting everyone in the Celestial Council, Roxanya (left) and Gwendalina (right) asserted that their names were in fact Tory and Darcy. Though many laughs were had, it seemed this was not in fact a joke, but the mortal names the twins now insist on going by. However, it is very puzzling to some, that they have adopted the Vega surname without complaint. This does indeed appear to be an acceptance of their inheritance and therefore their claim to the Solarian throne. So are we to fear an upheaval of the Celestial Council if they graduate from Zodiac Academy?

The answer, we hope, is no.

From my extensive discussion with the two twins, a few unsettling things became clear to me. Firstly that Roxanya (‘Tory’) is crass in both tone and manner. Upon asking her about her time at the prestigious academy where they have graciously been accepted (despite obvious lack in training and decorum) she started listing her many sexual conquests at the Academy instead. As the sharpness of champagne on her breath sailed over me, I had to admit, I was starting to become worried about the mental state of the girl as she rested a hand on my arm and seductively licked her lips. Had I not been a man of better taste, I may have fallen prey to her overt display. From the way her eyes roamed the room, I fear more than one man fell for her tricks that night and do hope she will soon seek counselling for the sex addiction which clearly ails her.

With my nerves a little on edge, I turned to the second twin in hopes of finding a more suitable figure for the Solarian throne. Quieter, at first I enjoyed the polite discussion I shared with Gwendalina (‘Darcy’) but the way her eyes glazed between questions and the several seconds it took for her to come up with short, blunt answers, alerted me to the fact there was something hindering her mentally. I was patient with her, drawing out answers as best I could but it seemed the girl had had many delusional episodes during her time at the Academy. She spoke of ravens whispering to her through her window at night and of a mystical mountain hare who lives under her bed. It was soon difficult to believe anything that came out of Gwendalina’s (‘Darcy’s’) mouth, and when I asked her about her relationship with the Celestial Heirs, she proceeded to dribble on my shoes and stare off into the distance – no doubt departed to one of her delusions. It is also worth mentioning, that all the while her wild stories had continued, her sister had made efforts to slide her hand down the back of my suit pants and I had to sternly remind her that I was a married man. To that, she’d scoffed and continued her abrasive assault.

Taking a short break from their unsettling company, I spoke with the Celestial Heir, Max Rigel, who had this to say to them, “We ask only that the Vega Twins respect our position as Heirs to the Solarian throne and that they rescind their claim for the betterment of the kingdom.”

When I put this quote to the Vega Twins for a response (rather nervously), Roxanya (‘Tory’) slurred a sexually abusive comment at me, stumbling under the influence of the many drinks she’d consumed while Gwendalina (‘Darcy’) remained vacant, muttering quietly to a raven I could neither see nor hear.

As a kingdom, it is time we asked ourselves who we wish to see sat on our throne. The four Celestial Heirs, the proud and handsome boys born of our world and nature, or the two odd and slightly bizarre twins who were born to The Savage King. A man who killed thousands during his reign, who himself was rumoured to be impaired by many destructive mental illnesses and who brought our kingdom to its knees before his death.

Only time will tell which party will claim the throne. But I for one, hope the Vega Twins do us all a favour and step out of the running.

I looked up, horrified that that asshole would have lied about us so viciously.

“I do not have a sex addiction,” Tory balked, slamming her Atlas down as she looked up.

Geraldine opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. “Fiery balls!” She sprang to her feet. “I’ll speak with my father and see if I can have this drivel retracted! I am outraged that my Queens have been so deeply insulted.” She marched from The Orb with fury in her posture and I looked to Tory with my heart sinking in my chest.

“Everyone’s going to think we’re completely insane.”

“I’m sorry did you say that to me or to the raven on my shoulder?” Tory asked.

I broke a laugh and she cracked a smile, glancing down at the article and shaking her head.

“Screw what they think,” she huffed.

I nodded firmly. “You’re right. In the next few hours, Max Rigel is going to taste what it’s like to cross us. So if this Vulpecula guy wants to make an enemy out of us too. Then more fool him.”