%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  The Legend of the Eyebright was thought to be just a myth... |
Eunae sat in the back of the classroom, listening to the soft drone of the teacher, Mr. Jamien, and the scratching of Calixte’s pen. Faint sunlight and a sultry breeze streamed in the open window. The teacher scribbled on the board, still talking, and Eunae wrote a couple notes down in her notebook. Her classroom was one of many in the PAB, where most of the basic academic courses were held. She sensed her name in the tender lilts of classroom thoughts, and pinpointed the two girls across the classroom gossiping about her. Eunae had been enduring the gossip and the stares patiently, entertained by the rumors: that she was a spy sent to destabilize Irinifa; that she was a princess in hiding; that she was an impostor, a professional Sensorist, smuggled in to give Sylph another extra edge, as if they needed one. Sylph had recognized her sensory abilities, and her favorite teacher, Miss Phaetra, who taught sensory, wanted to get her tested because she thought Eunae might be good enough to be a Master. Though Eunae had never heard of such labels, she submitted to all the mind-reading tests and kinesthesia exercises with amusement. During the day, Eunae was busy with a plethora of classes, Cloud exercises, and of course, contests. There were many contests, ranging from music to art to academics, and of course, battle, the most important contest of all. Each Cloud gained points for winning contests, and lost points for losing. The rumor that she was a professional secretly helping Sylph originated after the last sensory contest, which she had won easily, beating all the other Clouds almost single-handedly. “Miss Sun?” asked Mr. Jamien, interrupting her thoughts. It was Origins of Magic class, and Calixte, next to her, was avidly writing something. “The ancient Orbs,” Eunae answered, divining the correct response through quick sensory, for she had not even heard the question. Mr. Jamien was incompetent at sensory; he would feel nothing. “Thank you, Miss Sun. As I was saying, the ancient Orbs are an important part of the folklore of Magic, and even perhaps the origin of magic. Who can tell me something more about the Orbs?” “They’re supposed to give an amazing power,” a girl in the front row volunteered. “That’s true,” Mr. Jamien nodded. “Although no one has ever classified that power. The only living proof we have of these Orbs is fragments found in mysterious places, such as the piece found in the tombstone of a Smortasgaan emperor, another buried in a palace wall in Seoras. Many have tried to recreate the Orbs, but to no avail. Can anyone tell me from last nights’ reading the latest attempt?” “Belay Company owns the premier research lab on ancient power,” said the boy in front of Calixte. “Correct,” the teacher replied. “The researchers at Belay have figured out that the Orb fragments have giant amounts of magical residue, which is remarkable considering how ancient they are. Calixte, how do they speculate the Orbs were created?” Calixte looked up from her scribbling. “Some say they were made through a potent brand of magic long-lost. Others claim we never had the power to make them and that they came to us from a different dimension, although the first theory is more probable.” The teacher nodded and continued his lecture. Calixte poked Eunae and passed the piece of paper to her. Resectioning is next week. You’ll definitely be in. Look at my list. Eunae scanned it quickly. She knew Lander, a bright third step, and Synnove, who was also a third step. A couple other names sounded familiar, but she wasn’t sure. There were stars next to Lander, Synnove, and her name, marking them as Unit Leaders. Their Cloud was divided into six parts—two Ground Divisions and two Aerial Squads that made up the core army, one air patrol team, and one ground patrol team. Within each of these larger divisions, there were units consisting of three students each. The bell rang, and the shuffle of students rising from their desks and collecting their things filled the room. “What do you think?” Calixte asked over the noise while gathering her books. “I don’t know anyone,” Eunae replied. “You’re actually making me a Unit Leader?” “Come on, Eunae,” Calixte consoled. “You can handle it. You’ll probably get Darin, if I still get to keep him. He’s completely docile. Rissy’s nice, too. Besides, you can read minds. How hard could it be?” Eunae shrugged. “Sensory is a bit more complicated than that,” she replied in a noncommittal tone. “Are you heading to the Dwelling?” Calixte nodded. “I have a Council meeting.” They exited the building, jostled by other chattering, laughing students. Eunae took a deep breath as an impish breeze whistled through the Centre Quad. A group of Salamander Cloud third steps ran around on the lawn, and a throng of Python upper steps chatted under the large willow tree in the right corner of the Quad. Eunae overheard a disgruntled seventh step mutter, “Chimera never has any manners,” as a Chimera student flew over them and across the Centre Quad. It was generally considered rude to fly in public places. Eunae knew that if a Sylph student committed such an offense, he or she would be on dishes duty for a month. Eunae and Calixte took to the air once they were far enough from the crowded medians, Calixte looping in the air, Eunae lagging behind, switching air currents. The Sylph Dwelling was fairly deserted, albeit a gaggle of first steps bickering in the gnarled tree grove east of the Dwelling itself. “I’m early,” announced Calixte, her eyebrows raised in surprise, as they entered the octagonal den. Eunae sensed toward the mailbox, and, feeling something for her, called her letter to her hands and collapsed onto one of the plushy cushions in the den. “From your mother?” asked Calixte. Eunae nodded and tore open the letter, her heart beating quickly. Darling Eunae, We’re moving out of the palace. We’ve been given a small estate in a shoreline village, praise the Emperor’s grace. Mother Eunae read the letter once more, disappointed by its length. But her mother and sister were moving out of the Palatial City. That was good news. “Bad news?” Calixte asked, studying Eunae’s face. “No,” Eunae responded. “My mother and sister are moving. To a shoreline village.” “How old is your sister again?” “Ten.” “I haven’t seen my sister in years,” Calixte murmured thoughtfully, more to herself than to anyone else. “You have a sister?” Eunae exclaimed, surprised. “I had two sisters,” Calixte said, short all of a sudden. “One died when I was really little. The other—she might be dead for all I know. She came to the Academy, too.” Calixte hugged her knees to her chest. Her eyes contained an iron steel that glinted in the sunlight, and made Eunae shiver. “I haven’t talked to her in years.” Eunae stared at Calixte, reeling with the information. She didn’t know anything about Calixte’s family or her past. She was Middle Cé—noble, both parents deceased. But having a sister that attended the Academy? Who knew about that? Eunae couldn’t help but wonder what Cloud her sister had been in. For a fleeting second, the temptation to break into Calixte’s mind and delve out that information hovered over her, but she met Calixte’s taut, beseeching gaze, and realized she couldn’t do that. “I’m sorry,” Eunae answered, “about your sister.” “Don’t pass it around,” Calixte muttered as the rest of the Council members came into the Dwelling. “We don’t have the same name. She was adopted by my Uncle on my father’s side, and I went to my mother’s cousin.” Eunae nodded numbly, and Calixte squeezed her hand twice and left for her meeting, leaving Eunae behind on the cushions, clutching her mother’s letter in her fingers. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
