((Lustful Vengeance is set in the universe of story The Lustful Twelve with its major events running parallel to that piece. It is advisable to read it first to better understand the nuances in this one, including the shift at the end. Enjoy. ))
*****
Jocasta peered through the window of her private dorm, vitreous green eyes focused on the main building of Gehymnis Academy and its two white bell towers, erected side by side. The one to the left of where she stood rang at the beginning and at the end of each school day, three simple notes the students loved, even more when the sun was about to go down. The one to the right was reserved for special occasions like the anniversary of the institution or graduation ceremonies. Never in the history of the prestigious supernatural establishment had they rang simultaneously... until that day. As they did, echoing each other's sounds in a cold dissonance, droplets of rain hit the glass window. Change was in the air, infecting the once clear skies with leaden clouds now coming undone.
The leader of the Amazonian Guard looked away from the encroaching darkness and sighed. For over eighty years, she had served the cause of humans and preternaturals alike, bringing order to the chaos of omens and contradictory emotions that ran amok within those walls. Despite her longevity, she never expected it to last forever, but each day was one step closer to eternity than Hell, and yet...
The door behind her rustled and Elinne walked in, ceremonial braids in upheaval, dark leather uniform dripping. She had been standing by the main gate when Nature cried and she too was a mess.
The two of them were alike, almost as if they were sisters, despite not sharing any familial relationship. Both didn't look one year older than twenty-five, and their gaze shared the same magnetic influence. Standing at almost six feet seven with chiseled muscles in perfect shape, they were the epitome of classic, effigies of dark hair and even darker lips, used to commanding respect and bending it at will. They kept the order on the inside whilst securing the outside perimeter from prying eyes. Though they could be severe, more than often they were just fair. Honor was at the core of every decision they took to protect those that needed them and even the ones that dared to believe they were above such things. For the elite of the elite, failure was just a random combination of sounds and not an actual word. If anyone thought otherwise for even a split second, they had no place there.
Because of their status, revealing any emotion was a dangerous game, even more so when there were students around whose special abilities consisted on their manipulation. All members of the Guard underwent a rigorous training of mental purification before being allowed to serve. They seldom broke their discipline even in private but Elinne didn't care.
"You can feel it too, can't you?" She asked, grave voice, purple eyelids not doing anything to contain her troubled gaze.
"Hard not to," Jocasta agreed, hands behind her back... "And the same goes for your uneasiness, my friend."
"Yes, I'm worried. Do you think the rumors are true?"
"Didn't I ask you not to talk about those?"
"Yes, you did, but..."
Jocasta could have silenced her for good right there but, for the first time in ages, she was inclined to believe evil was about to get a victory and if her most trusted companion saw it too...
"I share your concerns," she replied, an easy and diplomatic way to reveal how terrified she was on the inside, too. "but this must remain between us. For the good of the Academy."
"You are right, of course. Forgive me, it's just..."
"I know, Elinne. I know."
All schools are plagued by gossip, half-truths, and complete lies whispered in deserted corridors or inside closed doors. Gehymnis was no different. While most proved to be harmless stories good for a laugh or two, some proved far more dangerous than their initial conception, dark conspiracies to turn the status quo upside down. At the center of most of them were The Twelve, The Atlantean Descendants or, as Jocasta liked to call them "The Sea Bitches Washed Ashore", embodied hypnotic dreams yet true nightmares underneath. All of them were a real piece of work with their mellifluous seductive ways but no one was more tantalizing than Delandra for she believed herself to be a Queen and a Queen without a kingdom is a time bomb waiting to explode.
Over the years, they had had too many headbutts, yet things had escalated after the mental assault on Professor Derrick Evans, a human whose company Jocasta very much enjoyed. He was sweet and caring, even if shy, and one of the few who didn't take advantage of the notorious height difference to perv at her boobs at any given chance. Messing with him had been a personal affront, one she would have dealt with in uncontained fashion if it weren't for the Headmistress' intervention.
Like Delandra, Jocasta and Abigail rarely saw eye to eye but the two women respected one another or at least she thought so. However, ever since the aforementioned incident, the behavior of the most powerful woman in the institution had become erratic. The unofficial story was that she had struck an ominous deal with the Twelve, one that would jeopardize them all. Those were the rumors Elinne was referring to. Could the bells prove them right?
As if wanting to put an end to all doubts, they struck again right before the Headmistress' voice echoed loud and clear through the Academy's main intercom as if she were in the room with them.
"Jocasta, you are to report to my office right away. There's a matter of great importance I need to discuss with you," she said.
The Amazons looked at one another and growled, an instinctive response to one of the greatest offenses in recent history. Former Headmistresses always conducted direct communication with the security team through private magic channels and never out in the open. Abigail's precedent was as dangerous as it could be. Aware of the fact, three more warriors barged in the room, runic spears in hand.
"What's the meaning of this?" the leader of the small group queried. Her name was Iona, and she was the third in command. "Why is the human breaking protocol?"
"I don't know," Jocasta shrugged. "Unfortunately, there's only one way to find out."
"You can't go like this!" Elinne begged. "She's undermining your authority with such disrespect. The whole school will..."
"I'm well aware of the consequences but she's still the Headmistress, and we all made an oath."
"An oath to Gehymnis, the institution, not her!" Iona spat.
"She is Gehymnis, they're still one and the same."
"At least ask her why the public summon then," Eline suggested. "We need answers and we need them now!"
"Will that make you all feel more at ease?"
"Yes," the other women agreed.
"Okay then," Jocasta noted as she moved to the center of the room and swept the rug at her feet away. Drawn with ancient royal soil of Themiscyra, virgin tears, and pig's blood, the magic circle was a remnant of the leaders that had come before her but still more effective than smartphones or other technological advancements. As she stepped inside it, the interconnected lines glowed white, pulsating in unison with her beating heart.
"Headmistress, can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear, Jocasta," Abigail responded, her rudeness not hidden at all. "Why are you wasting time reaching out to me instead of answering the call pronto?"
"You know why. You violated a capital rule of our agreement."
"Did I? Well, some rules are obsolete nowadays, anyway. I will sever this connection now. Come to my office like I ordered you to so we can continue this conversation. Ciao!"
The glow faded into blackness, all incantations depleted.
"What in Athena's name?" Iona frowned, flabbergasted. "This is mockery after mockery! Jocasta, you mustn't let her get away with this outrage."
"I will listen to what she has to say but be on the ready if something goes wrong, understood?"
