PROMPT : GLADLY
Preena dug her fingers into the wet ground, biting back a smile at the familiar texture. This was something that she loved doing, but could never let the High Master know.
He wouldn’t approve of the students actually enjoying themselves as they learned—and today, this particular chore—was meant to be a punishment.
It hadn’t been her fault at all—but pointing fingers and shouting lies had muddled the entire thing. She’d only gone to help a friend. A new friend who had been too embarrassed to accept the gesture for what it was. The resulting confusion had left Preena bewildered and saddened.
Sitting back on her heels, hands still buried in the cold ground, she closed her eyes, reaching out into the network of earth blood simmering beneath the surface.
Every living scrap of green life—plants, roots, seeds—stretched up to brush against her calm energy. She breathed in the fresh, clean air and breathed out the frustration, hurt and sorrow.
Energy streamed from her fingertips, pouring into the ground, coaxing the earth blood below to rise up and spread through the newly rechristened ground. She would do this gladly without being asked—for a nature-elemental like herself, this was no punishment.
“Preena!” The High Master’s bellow made her cringe inside.
Ever since he’d discovered that she was the scholarship student, things had gotten—strange. In fact, she’d even noticed the oddest detail of the plants reaching out to separate them, whenever they were anywhere alone.
That was more of a warning that she’d cared to witness. If the plants didn’t trust him—she definitely shouldn’t.
But that had been before he’d found excuses to be around her—and then things had gotten so weird.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she dug her hands even deeper into the ground. Footsteps were approaching and the slight frisson of fear in her gut, made her hold on to the wet dirt. Her hands were almost anchored deep enough.
When the rough hand caught hold of her collar, she poured all of her energy into the ground and waited for it to rebound.
It surged up from the ground, after the first slap had registered. The knife in his hand never found its way to her chest, because the rare thorns that sprang up from the ground, impaled him where he stood.
(c) S. Harricharan