Blood Trials
The Graduation

Principal Axel took to the podium and began the ceremony. His speech went on for more than an hour, draining the eager graduates and some of their parents. Thereafter several other teachers had some encouraging words to share and some bad jokes to get off their chests. After some more long and dragging words from principal Axel, the real ceremony began. In place of being called up to collect diplomas, the graduating class was handed candles to hand over to next year’s graduating class. Ridley remembered receiving her lit candle from Marcel du Buoy. Now she was watching Dane hand his candle over to Thérèse du Buoy.

She stood aside with the other hunters, keeping an eye on the ceremony and surrounding areas. The incoming graduating class then took their seats while principal Axel declared the graduating class, graduated! They threw their hats in the air before bundling I’m their friend groups with their parents. Dane grabbed Ridley and swung her around. She hummed, coming her hair out of her face. "Congratulations, Sorensen," she began. "You managed to make four talkative dead men quiet for two hours. It's a new record. And, you know, your twelve years a slave are over."

"Wow," Dane chuckled. He took off his black cap to set it on her. "Thanks, babe."

"No," she declared and straightened. "Call me that again, and there'll be one less Viggo on the face of this Earth."

Morgan sniggered beside them, wagging his tail and leaving his tongue out. "Got it," Dane replied. "I'll kind something cute for you, don't worry."

"Just go bask with your fellow liberated-ees."

"C'mon, Morgs." Morgan snorted as he followed.

Ridley shook her head, taking the tasselled cap off to admire. She tilted her head, wistfully, with a hum. Despite sensing Dane join the picture-taking frenzy in his black robe, Ridley's mind was not on the school. She looked to the left, seeing the Great Wall and the goldblood man having a heart attack. On her right was blackblood woman on a train - heading into Amsterdam - having a stroke. Behind her, a man having a seizure in his Los Angeles home where he lived alone.

Esmeralda put an arm around her waist with Rowan in her other arm. Ridley took her brother into her hold earning his intrigue. He blinked at her quizzically. He tried to grab her hair again. Ridley held her karambit up to him. "Ridley..." Esmeralda warned. Still Rowan took the knife. The blade went straight to his mouth.

Ridley covered the blade, feeling gums grind on her knuckles. She took it from him, twirling in front of his ever-growing wide eyes. He cooed and jerked his legs excitedly. Ridley hummed a weak laugh then tossed it. Rowan reached for her hand. Ridley caught the knife. Rowan gasped, looking to Esmeralda. He blinked at Ridley in confusion. She tucked it away and handed him a round of ammunition. He wasn't interest and looked to Lewis - a hunter - and how he twirled his own dagger as he leisurely walked past.

"Smart boy," Ridley commented, earning Rowan's attention. "Blades, not bullets." Rowan attacked her. He started chewing her cheek. "And that concludes our time. Please take it."

"'It'? He's your brother," Esmerald said. She covered her mouth and Ridley sighed. "Oh, Ridley, I-I'm..." Ridley shook her head with a dismissive hum. Rowan gurgled, grabbing his sister's face. Ridley held him out. Rowan looked between Ridley and Esmeralda. He kicked his legs eagerly with a wide, drool-lathered grin. "Do you want to...?"

"No, thank you." Rowan giggled then waved his arms. Ridley flipped him upside down, making him laugh. Dangling from an ankle, Rowan couldn't stop laughing. "Okay. Take your genetic contingency."

Esmeralda spun him around but his laughing didn't wane. "Honey, I've done a lot of reflection lately. I think Dominique was half right," she admitted. Ridley paused from wiping drool off her face to regard her mother. "Do you feel that Clarke and I weren't loving parents?"

"'Reflection', or Clarke telling you about our conversation in the cemetery?"

"Both, but be honest with me."

Ridley looked over to Clarke in deep talks with his students and their parents. "What does it matter now? You've done your job already."

"It matters because I love you, and it hurts me to think I never made you understand or experience that."

Ridley inhaled sharply. "Fine," she sighed. "But once I tell you, I'm walking away and we're not going to talk about it, ever again." Esmeralda nodded weakly, stiffening. Ridley could sense her bracing herself. The Source shook out her head then began: "of course, I knew you loved me. You helped me tune my bows, and taught me to cook, and you never once said to Clarke 'they're your children'. It was always 'our children' with you. As I told Dominique, Renee is my mother but you...?" Ridley dared to look at the pallid disbelief on the secretary's face. "You are my mama."

Esmeralda pursed her lips, nodding vigorously. Ridley regarded her conclusively then turned to leave. She could feel the elation behind her. She beamed then felt Esmeralda start jumping about accordingly in her Prada vintage heels. The Source left, making for the polo fields to visit a familiar face; Mako. The tall brown horse with the black mane and tail. The horse whined a matching elation at the sight of her.

The Source teared up, stroking his nose, half-hugging him. "I missed you too." Mako burrowed his nose into her neck. "Let's get out of here."

She set up his saddle. The horse leaped to hind legs before bolting through the school. They passed the vacant classrooms, cars parked chaotically and the main gates. The Dunon hill was quickly left in their wake. The downhill run was sorely missed. Ridley whipped her lose hair behind her shoulders as they slowed towards Main Street. The street was mildly active, filling with celebratory high schoolers and families quickly.

Ridley tugged the reigns, ushering Mako through the streets - passed the Barnyard, the public high school, and the town square - and across the street of the middle school. The wind seemed to go frigid as they crossed the cemetery's threshold. From there, Mako knew the way. The passed Sources were still inactive but the buzz from all of ampyrakind was still in the background. Mako's hooves on the road filled the devoid air, right until he stepped onto the grass.

They walked to the end of the row, where she tied him to one of the windbreaker trees. Mako tugged her into a hug and she kissed his blaze. Dane's graduation cap still in hand, her Doc Martens started for the undecorated grave. The Source knelt before Ryan's resting place, setting the hat there. "You're probably too busy drinking tea with Tomás and gushing over the Regency Romance aesthetic, but you should be here. Shrieking and jumping with Moonbeam and Carson, kissing Alex. I mean, you made your bed and now you're resting in it but still."

Ridley shifted to sit on the grass, indulging the cold wind in her hair. She closed her eyes feeling the silence fill her up. The song of the birds was sparce, the smell of the on-coming summer rain wafted in the air. Mako was muted too, allowing the cemetery's tranquility to be fully appreciated. The head stone of Ryan and the placard of Tomás and Sebatian in front of her, the windbreaker trees behind her: serene.

The June heat didn't bother her in her mostly black motorcycle jacket that hap purple contours. Underneath, a piece Dominique sneakily laid in Ridley's suitcase, was the black summer dress. The shade cast from the tree Mako was tied, barely missed Ridley and left her in full sun. She threw her head back, basking in the sunshine. She let out a deep hum before laying in the grass.

"What would you and Tomás do if you were me, right now?" Ridley opened her eyes to see Tomás and Sabastian's placard. "Happy graduation day, guys," she sighed.

Mako snorted in the background and the Source gave the two stones a weak smile. She hummed then closed her eyes, facing the sun. Mako huffed then sat down in the shade, also enjoying the tranquil. The Source dug around the N-Gen facility, searching for a break in the compound's silver barricading. They must have taken Viggo and Ankh's instruction to heart; Ridley couldn't even sense the kitchen and canteen, on the first floor.

The tight barriers could easily have been lined with rings, bracelets, earrings, necklaces and other jewelry figures. However, the bulk of silver goes towards use as ornamental utensils. Goblets, candelabras, cutlery, trays, dishes, and, of course, silverware; any and all of these could have been used to block her out. Silver shavings too. Ridley groaned feeling every nook and cranny completely out of reach; it made her head spin.

"Ridley?" She groaned from the pounding in her head from the silver. "Ridley," Strulovitch's voice called. "Ridley Axel."

The Source sat upright. In place of sitting on viridescent grass, she was on the sterile, white tiles. She stood and looked around Strulovitch's office. She looked around to see Strulovitch sitting with radio tags all over his head, with his tablet on his lap, looking at the images of his brain. Ridley folded her arms at him, without him looking up. The Source only arched an eyebrow at him.

She expected Ninsun to start on his regularly scheduled rant, but the silver bordering the office was evidence enough that the passe four were going to kept on mute a while. True to word, the silver wasn't just shavings; it was utensils, and jewellery, and household items that followed the skirting. A headache was forming in her mind from the silver warding her out.

"You're here," Strulovitch stated then scoffed a hearty laugh. The ever-present frown he wore, for the first time, was stretched upwards to grin. "As I theorised, vampire brains react abnormally when in direct psionic contact with the Source. The thalamus partially disconnects from internal and external signals. For the uninitiated, the thalamus acts as a gatekeeper to the cerebral cortex and disconnects it from most signals when sleep is called for. In conclusion, whenever Subject Supreme-1, alternately known as Ridley D. Axel, the vampire brain interprets it as falling asleep. Why the mind does not disconnect from the present and remains wholly aware is beyond me."

"Huh. This's faintly interesting," Ridley stated. She met with only silence. "Right. Silver."

Strulovitch ran a hand over his receding hairline, chuffed with his replaceings. "I can't believe this," he cheered then took off the EEG cap. "Electroencephalography... its metal electrodes against the scalp, it maps out the supreme psionic. This is what I've been missing!"

"What have you been missing," Viggo declared with Ankh at his side. "Ankh says you've taken down your silver protection."

"She's right there," Ankh stated, pointing right at Ridley. "Why did you take down the silver!"

"I did it! I know how to create the hive mind," Strulovitch stated.

"What! No, doctor, we've spoken on the matter. You are to do no such thing."

"How could you take down the barrier," Ankh pressed.

"I merely removed a link in the chain," he went on holding up two teaspoons. "This only proves another theory; wearing silver does nothing. How does SS-1 fare in a jewellery store?"

Ankh grabbed the two spoons from him, while scanning the skirting. "She knows where we are. D'you want to give them the added advantage of replaceing a way in?"

"You sound afraid," Viggo stated.

"You've seen her," Ankh countered, making for Strulovitch's desk. "She's as skilled a hunter as she is a pain the neck," the wolfen commented looking back to Ridley. "Stop breaking the wards," she stated then dropped the two spoons.

The clamouring on the ground made her skull split! She fell backwards into the grass, clutching her head. The pounding felt like a sledgehammer to her cranium. She rolled to the side, grunting endlessly. "I hope that hurt you as much, Ankh." She groaned, massaging her temples. "Ow."

She laid there, feeling her head crush. There was the faint roar of a huge gong ringing in her ears Ridley sighed, looking to Mako. The brown horse was leisurely just sitting in the shade. She moaned then closed her eyes, feeling the sun hurt her head more than help. The quiet was different after that; unsettling. Strulovitch made sure of that. The ringing faded out but there was still a throb. The Source inhaled sharply then felt a presence. Neither ampyra nor therianthrope.

Opening her eyes, Ridley came face-to-face with Alex. He gave a weak smirk and timid wave. "H-hey."

"What do you want?"

"Just visiting," Alex stated. "Visiting my girlfriend."

"Right," she sighed the stood up. She cupped her forehead and turned away. "You two have fun."

"W-wait," Alex called. "We heard you went to a hunter's reform school for... f-for, erm..."

The Source sized him up when he didn't finish his sentence. "School, no. Reform, debatable," she answered, leaving.

"E-either way," Alex continued, halting Ridley, "it's good to see you."

"Don't pretend we're friends."

"I'm not. It's just, we have something in common," Alex stated. He pointed his bouquet of yellow and orange snapdragons at Ryan's grave. "I miss her too. And I'm really sorry about Moonbeam and Carson being such..." he sighed "... Moonbeam and Carson about it."

Ridley looked to the grave then back to Alex. "Congratulations, Eliades," the Source concluded. Her gold-ringed eyes - that only goldbloods saw - looked to the bouquet. "I'm glad someone remembered her favourites."