My legs gave out the second I stopped.
I dropped to one knee, breath sharp and uneven. My thighs felt like someone poured molten lead through the muscle. I pushed myself up slowly, laughing through clenched teeth.
"Yeah. It worked."
The laugh didn't last. Pain hit me like a freight train, hot, raw, and immediate. My muscles locked up, spasming under the strain. Felt like they were ripping apart from the inside. I gritted my teeth and sat in the dirt, hands pressed into my thighs.
Thirty-eight miles per hour. Give or take. That's what I clocked it at. More than double my high school sprint.
Made sense that my body couldn't handle it.
Speed like that? That ain't natural. Ligaments and tendons are designed with limits in mind. No spell can conventionally change physics like that with traditional magic. While the magic did its job. My body didn't.
The force behind each step hit me like a round of buckshot. Over and over. Real, anatomical damage. Torn fibers. Swollen joints. That's the fine print nobody talks about with enhancement spells. The power ain't the issue. The container is.
I closed my eyes, one hand pressed flat over the worst of the pain.
"Sanare."
Warmth flowed under my skin. I focused the spell on the microtears, rebuilding the muscle cell by cell. My mom's notes helped, sure, but what really paid off was my own grind. I wasn't casting blindly anymore. I understood what I was healing and where I needed to heal. Thank god for me paying attention in biology.
Pain faded slowly. Yet still feeling the effects, I cast a minor numbing charm, just to mute the edges. I'd used it on animals before. While I don't have the current skill to hold it for extended periods, it should get the job done.
Going inside, I grabbed my grimoire off the desk and opened it to a fresh page. Every detail needed to be logged. Theoretical knowledge meant nothing without real-world context. Pain, speed, aftermath. I wrote it all down.
There's power in knowing your limits, especially when you plan to break them.
Once I was done, I glanced at the time.
"Shit. School."
Walking into Mystic Falls High felt like stepping into a fish tank. Everybody staring, whispering behind fake-ass smiles. The second I walked into the front office, I felt the silence, weight, and pity.
"His mom recently died."
"He looks different. Skinnier."
They weren't wrong. Sure, I dropped a couple of pounds. But grief had nothing to do with it. You skip meals when you're buried in spellwork, anatomical breakdowns, and assimilating memories I never used to have.
Keeping it moving, I went to get my schedule. Someone stepped behind me in line. Feeling the presence around me change slightly, I use my peripheral vision and instantly recognize who he was.
Stefan Salvatore.
The broody lover boy. Wears guilt like cologne. While knowing who and what he is. I frankly didn't care. His drama, his vampiric escapades, and his secret past, none of that mattered to me.
I wasn't about to become Mystic Falls' next Bonnie Bennett. That girl had power, sure, but she kept getting played. Running on empty for people who wouldn't lift a finger for her. Could never be me.
Not my circus. Not my undead monkeys.
I folded my schedule and dipped. No need t make it obvious.
People grouped up by habit more than choice. A few folks tried to give me the "sorry about your mom" giving face value responses, I kept it pushing. First period: History. Of course it was.
Sliding into my seat, I pulled out my notebook. The room filled quickly. And Tanner was already rambling about the colonial war like, Forget I'm now living in a confederate town, fuck me.
"Hey,".
Looking up, there she was. Bonnie. "I haven't seen you in a minute. You okay? If you ever need to talk… I'm here for you."
"Will do."
She studied my face like she was hoping for more. Wasn't getting it.
Her eyes flicked to the side. "You know, my grandma and your mom were real close. Never knew why."
I did. Only two activated witches in town. That kind of thing forces bonds.
Actually, thinking about it gave me an idea.
He wasn't exactly introverted, didn't mess with much beyond football and class. Always in his own world, like he had more going on than he said. Maybe that's why I was trying to look out for him.
"You should come tonight, there's a party in the woods behind Miller's Ridge," I said, keeping it light. "Might help."
He didn't answer right away. I don't know if I pushed too far..
"Sure. Could be fun."
Well, that wasn't so bad.
"Miss Bennett, since you enjoy conversation so much, how many casualties occurred during the Battle of Willow Creek?"
Bonnie blinked, then answered, "Three hundred forty-six. Mostly Northern. A few civilians."
"Almost," he then turned his eyes to me. "Mister Merlyn. Anything to add?"
I didn't need to say much. Just wanted to end this class and get out.
"Four twenty-three," I said, "if you count post-battle infection."
Tanner's eyes flickered. Surprised, I guess. I didn't really care either way.
"…Right again. Good answer, Mr. Merlyn. Just remember to keep the speaking to a minimum."
I nodded once, going back to my notebook.