Haze of Dusk (A trilogy) by Immer C.H Page B

especially in Doomsvell. Well, in Duolic we have real books with real numbers—I’m no moron . I say the number. The pages radically move to its destination. Again, I glance Shorewen’s way. The girls don’t stop asking him question, but he never flirts, even though many are older—eighteen and over—also very beautiful. He appears to be into his work.
    Instructor Shorewen teaches stealing attention. I’ve never met a lecturer as respected and loved by the ladies as he is. When he announces that the class is over, the girls head to him to ask ‘ essential’ questions. I walk behind my roommates, who rush out of the room. Shorewen’s eyes sight mine. I half-smile and bow down my head. I know his thoughts. He hates me already…all because of that little freak chaotic mess. Stepping out of the room I get shivers. What an awkward sensation .
    “Prick,” Ramuso utters to his friends. I want to walk away, leave them in their own world, but their glower makes matter interesting.
    “Who?” I snoop. The three men look at me,
    “Shorewen! Did you see how he talked to Jorsay? What the bloody-hell is his problem? He thinks he’s so great that arse-prick.”   I grimace. I don’t think Shorewen said anything wrong. He’s simply a strict instructor, very intellectual for his young age. “He’s not bad,” I say practically. The three of them glare at me.
    “ What!” I murmur defenseless.
    “Do you know how old he is? A person his age is supposed to be in the kcowls, with us. Anyhow, because he’s a little more powerful than us, the leaders made him an instructor. He didn’t have to do anything but beg for arse,” I snort. It is obvious Ramuso doesn’t like him. Probably the little freak hates the fact that the handsome instructor stole his girl’s attention. Jealousy, something to avoid and deny; I will never commit such stupidity.
    “Get over it, next year we don’t have to take this class. That's if we survive. I can’t stand it either, seeing his face makes me sick. I hate how my many girls fall for his bad looks.” Onnet says. I press my lips together. I’m trying to hold my laughter. What a bunch of morons. Don’t hate his good looks. “You too…wow, well I have nothing against him.” I admit to get nasty faces from their part, but I don’t give a rat and walk away from them. And these idiots are my companions…great.
    “You’ll eventually figure it out , kid. Soon, you’ll see who Khysso Shorewen is.” I freeze to hear that name. My mouth drops open and my heart bounces. Did I hear correctly? I twirl to meet with them. “Onnet…did y-you say…Khysso…Khysso the undying.” My pulse suddenly races, pushing my heart to my throat. Onnet nods confirming his name. I thrust my book to Ramuso’s chest and rush back to the room. I barge in, and without caring about anything but my stone, I stand in front of the upset man, “Khysso, give it back!”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

- 7 -
    Problematic
     
     
    If I had any respect or admiration for him, it blasted out of my chest the instant I heard his name. I press my hands firmly on the desk, staring deeply at his bewilder expression. He stands, and glares at me, waiting for a reaction of my part. I bow down my head, inhaling strength to scream, “give me back my stone,” but as I look down, the polished oak desk reflects my face. Jorsay’s light eyes are dark by the seething in me. I compress my lips together. Angry at myself for letting rage take over me. I should hit myself hard. Why am I not thinking of the consequences, the danger I would bring upon myself and Srogeri if they discover who I am? I lift my head to come across a petrify Khysso. He doesn’t look mad. Just shock, almost at his will.
    “It is Sorcerer Shorewen,” he corrects almost in a growl. I nod.
    “ Yes, forgive me.” I murmur, I inhale a profound breath.
    “Give you what back? ” He’s not forgetful. My luck…
    “Umm… my sister talked about you… and