Chapter 1 - Overslept

Chapter 1: Overslept

“Oi, lazy, you’re gonna be late.”

Darkon scowled in annoyance at the drawled comment. He pointedly ignored the speaker and shifted slightly in his hammock to get more comfortable, never opening his eyes.

“Oh well . . . .” the same voice said. “I guess you really don’t want to graduate. That’s ok. I’m sure Ferran’s team will be happy to move into the corps. Have fun making weapons you never get to use from now on.”

That got Darkon’s attention. He jolted upright – and promptly lost his balance. His hammock dumped him on the hard wood floor and he groaned.

A cackle sounded above his head. He glared up at the source.

“Zip it, Pong,” he growled, pushing himself to his feet and rubbing his head where he could feel a goose egg growing.

Pong ignored him and continued his loud cackle, bouncing up and down in the air. Darkon swatted at the fairy but he easily dodged.

“I’m the least of your worries, Darkie,” Pong said, grinning evilly. “Just look at the time.”

Filled with dread, Darkon glanced up at the clock on his wall. He about died on the spot.

Pong held up a gloved hand, fingers spread wide. “You have to be in the White Hall in five minutes, think you can make it?”

Darkon snarled and jumped forward, missing Pong by a hair. Ignoring the fairy for a moment, he threw open his closet door and searched through the pile of clothes frantically. He finally found his black Team Leader robe and jerked it on. Then he darted to the other side of the room and threw open his window.

“Oi! You need shoes stupid!” Pong called.

“Don’t care,” Darkon said.

He leaned back into his small room and, before Pong could escape, grabbed the small fairy by the wings.

“OUCH!” Pong protested, swatting futilely at his master’s hand.

Darkon smirked. “Nice try.”

Pong harrumphed at him – not that it did any good. “It’s your fault you’re late. None of the other students need ten hours of sleep a – AH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Darkon had just taken a running start and leapt out the window.

“NEED I REMIND YOU IT’S TWENTY STORIES DOWN?!?” Pong shrieked, clutching his master’s hand so he wasn’t torn away by the wind.

Darkon ignored him and pulled a small, circular container out of his pocket. He held it between his pinkie and thumb and ripped the cover off with his teeth. Inside was a golden cream-like mixture. Pong saw it and his expression turned horrified.

“Oh no you don’t!” he shouted, now squirming to get away. “DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!”

Darkon dipped his pointer finger in the cream and in a flash had used it to draw two golden lines onto Pong’s vest, slanting up from his chest to the edges of his shoulders. With a smirk he added one final line, right down the middle of the two first lines.

Immediately, Pong was engulfed in a golden glow and Darkon released him. The fairy disappeared from his sight in a flash.

Unfortunately, with the distraction gone, Darkon found himself looking at the ground for the first time – and it was growing closer by the second. For a moment he wondered if he maybe should have taken the stairs after all.

Then a figure swooped underneath him and he smirked. Who needed stairs?

He wrapped his arms around the figure’s neck and held on tight. Powerful black wings beat on either side of him and suddenly he was moving forward instead of falling.

“Welcome back, Pong,” he said with a smug smile.

“Shut up,” the fairy snapped. “I should have just let you fall. Did you think to ask me if I wanted to grow fifty times my normal size?! I refuse to save you next time you jump out a window, idiot!”

“I’ll remember that,” Darkon replied.

Of course, he didn’t plan on jumping out any more windows . . . unless it was an emergency. He grinned.

“How long does the hex sign last?” Pong asked, flapping harder to get more altitude so they could clear the town rooftops.

“About seven minutes.”

“You are so lucky I’m here. I think you should forfeit your graduation anyway.”

“Not a chance, the team’s counting on me.”

“Then none of you are graduating anyway,” Pong mumbled.

Before Darkon could reply, Pong spilled air from his wings and headed into a dive towards the courtyard of the White Hall.

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