Taming the Serpent

Chapter 7

Ominis spent the remainder of the evening in the Undercroft, and refused to come out as time slid away into night. He squirrelled himself away behind a pile of crates, pulled a loose bit of sheet over the top of them like a tent, cast a silencing charm, curled up in a ball on the floor, and wept.

He wasn't even sure why he was crying. There was too much pain and fear swimming around in his head for him to decide which part of it had pushed him over the edge. Pain and fear was a state of mind he was well accustomed to, and he could keep it together so well under most circumstances, so why had he broken now? Why had the touch of another person that should have been delightful sent him scattering?

He knew full well why. The acts his family had tried to make him do, those that he'd fought so hard against... the things they had forced...

He keened softly, clutching his head. He couldn't think of it. He mustn't! He had to bury it, bury it deep, somewhere damp and dark and cold, where it couldn't be found. There were other things buried there, but with the cracking of his mental defences, they were slowly stirring, like ancient bones in a crypt, where clawed, withered hands began to flex. Not yet enough to stir the dirt on the surface, but with each day his resolve waned, they grew in strength. It wouldn't be long before they fought their way out, and he would be at their mercy.

It was all too much for one man to carry alone, but he had no other choice. No one could ever know, and he would be alone forever because of the scars inflicted upon him, the gouges too deep to heal from, too many to count, too painful to ignore.

He was alone. He would always be alone. He must endure alone.

_.-~*~-._

Ominis dragged himself to class the next morning, acutely aware that despite his best efforts, he was dishevelled, his hair combed only with his fingers, his day-old robes likely dusty and wrinkled. He winced. Everyone would know something was wrong, he prided himself on his appearance and took great pains to be well-groomed and tidy. But the opinions of his classmates mattered little, because what Silver would think of him now...

But what she thought wouldn't matter. Shouldn't matter. The way he'd fled from her, as if she was a dragoness ready to eat him, when all she'd done was be kind, wanting to connect over music... his behaviour had been abhorrent, unbecoming of the gentleman he strived to be. He didn't deserve her friendship. All he could do now was try to preserve that which he had with Sebastian, Anne, and Claire.

But he was met with a steely wall of icy silence when he edged into the seat beside Sebastian, Claire on his other side as Hecat began her lecture, the frostbitten air wafting over to him. He knew better than to ask, but all the same, he took a breath and nudged Sebastian's elbow with his own as he reached for his quill. It was a movement that would have seemed accidental to a casual observer, but Sebastian would know better. Ominis never bumped anyone unless they deliberately got in his way.

Sebastian nudged him back, a tiny movement. That meant he wasn't upset with him, so he supposed that was something.

The class ended, and he heard Claire get to her feet and stride over towards Natty, Poppy and Garreth, calling out a greeting, leaving Sebastian behind with him.

"Should we wait?" Ominis asked.

"Nah," Sebastian said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "She wants to catch up with them, said she's not spent any time with them this year."

"Alright. We've both got a free hour, haven't we?"

"Aye. Undercroft?"

"Yes, if you like."