Light and Darkness

Week after week went by with Damien searching and, ultimately, finding nothing to help his friend. Day after day, he went to the library in his free time, searching and searching. Even with all his drive to find answers, he still made time to spend time with Echo, though there were days when he got lost in his search that he wasn't able to. Late on a Tuesday, he laid down in his bed, staring up at the canopy words filling his mind. He didn't want to leave the library, but he had been practically thrown out by the librarian as it encroached curfew. So to the Ravenclaw tower, he went, his stomach complaining at him since he'd missed dinner. He didn't care; he'd been used to it before, he could survive. He rubbed his eyes before he felt himself drift off to sleep. ----------------------- He woke up late at night staring up at someone who looked scarily like himself, albeit with bright red hair and crimson eyes. "Finally. I've wanted to speak to you." Dami

Damien sat in the library alone, mountains of books sitting on the table before him. At a single glance, the books had no correlation with one another. With such books as 'Greatest and Strangest Wizards of the Ages' and 'Lost Arts of Magic' and even '101 Moste Foul Tragedies', it seemed as if he was just looking up topics that interested him. But if someone knew the contents of the books well, they would realize there was one similarity. Some of the stranger wizards of the first books were empaths. Lost Arts of Magic had some magical arts that weren't quite dead but perhaps were frowned upon, or a few people were born with that art, such as Empaths and Seers. And 101 Moste Foul Tragedies had many tragedies involving Empaths who had gone Insane. So people who truly knew Damien, so far of which there was one, would realize that he was researching his friend Echo. To an outsider, he was obsessing over his learning of new things. Acting the Ravenclaw. It was dur

History of Magic was, by far, the most exciting subject the students ever had to be subjected to. It was like its own story hour. She took diligent notes. In fact, it was the subject that Echo could focus on the most, for everyone in the classroom felt the same exact thing. But today was different from every other day. The lesson was about famous empaths. Echo was excited at the beginning of class as her mother had told her they went on to do great things. And that part was genuine. They were among the world's best interrogators, lawyers, but there was one crucial detail her mother left out. The strongest ones always went insane. Echo's hand shot up, and Professor Tillywater stopped, "Miss Santi?"  "But do they all go insane? Why?" she questioned. "Being able to be so in tuned to someone's emotions, even influencing them, comes at a cost. It would begin to affect your emotions." Professor Tillywater answered. "Now, as I was saying. Prude-&

A filling dinner and a nice bed put Damien into a good mood the following morning. It was a feeling he wasn't quite used to, and it begged an excellent question... what would he do over the summer? Would he have gotten too used to this sort of life? Would by the time he went back to living on the streets, he'd be like a fish out of water, floundering around trying to get back into the hang of things? But for the time being, he was content. At least he was until rudely woken up by a kid he recognized from the sorting as Keiran Sullivan. "Get up; we've got class. And I'm not letting you ruin my image." A scowl took control of Damien's expression as the boy walked out of the room, leaving him to get dressed. He could already tell he was going to hate him. He took a few minutes to get dressed in one of the few robes he had before walking downstairs to the common room. A prefect had explained the night before where everything they needed was, so they wouldn'

Damien stood in the Great Hall, staring around at the various people sitting at the four tables and the professors seated at the main table. From the enchanted ceiling to the buzz of energy from all the new students, Damien felt like this was a place he might be able to call home during the time he was there. The promise of learning and having a place to rest his head was all too good. From time to time, he found himself wondering what the catch was. He was all too well aware of the eyes that would likely be on him. From the second-hand robes he wore, to the way to he glanced around as if everything could be taken away from him. From the way he shied away from people at the nearest opportunity to the fact that he had confidence that he could handle himself despite his apparent shyness. All this and more drew many eyes to him as he waited for everything to be over with. "As I call your name, step forward to be sorted." The man who had announced himself as the Deputy Headmaster

Pain is something that never leaves you until death. It's this explainable yet mysterious force that can affect anyone at any time. It doesn't care if you're rich or poor, good or evil. Pain is indiscriminate. Pain is physical and mental, sometimes even at the same time. And for some, pain is constant. An ever-present force in their life that will never go away. To some people, like Damien Thorne, the pain never subsided. He had been left on the streets since he was three, and he never knew the reasons. He was raised for a further three more years by a kindly old man who had been living on the streets for years. But on a summer night, the old man had passed away due to a heart attack. The fear in the man's eyes stuck with Damien for years after the event. A year before the man had passed, he had pressed into Damien's mind the necessity to be able to survive and to defend oneself. He had taught Damien how to create a crude shiv out of stone and wood, among the arts o