"Academy Chronicles Ch.3" by H. Coyne

It was a cruel trick of the faculty, placing the one elective at the start of the day. Sleeping in was weighed against something that mattered to the student. If they passed the first two years of general studies, then the remaining two years would cover nothing but this elective of their choice.

Orelle's morning class in the Bardic arts was held outdoors, and always near water: fountains, lakes, pools, glorified puddles. The guitarists would complain of the humidity but the luminous beauty of their instructor kept them from any action regarding location. Shelsea was the only Siren instructor in the whole Academy.

"As you know, the season's final and biggest music festival is this evening." Her shimmering voice pulled at their ears with all the mystical force of a tide, "Bring your poems and music and some of the older student will incorporate a few into their performances." Her jade tail patted the water absently as she continued, "I won't promise a showcase for all of you but it's worth a try." She slowly blinked her glossy black eyes at the sun, checking the time.

"It's time I let you all go. You'll have to move fast to not be tardy. Til tomorrow." In a sinuous movement she slid into the water, vanishing beneath a single ripple. A few boys stared at the surface longingly, until being grudgingly pulled away by the girls. Class always ended as such, or some sop ended up sputtering and dripping water all over their instruments after an impromptu dip.

Orelle left other girls to guarding the boys from themselves and gathered up her harp and half marked sheets of music. She sighed, thinking the rest of the day was to be dominated by nonsense classes that shoved all your creativity in an iron box.

Solorya off by the training grounds felt the same way as she sheathed her sword, all her energy and passion was being put under wraps.

For Alyssum all her natural Glimmer magic was dimmed, it's sparkle and light doused, like a candle thrown into the ocean.

Mykalah lingered by the forest, it could no longer provide solace or adventure, the Scouting lesson was over and she was being shooed away by her instructor.

When each girl arrived in her next class, which they shared, they marveled to see a look so familiar in one another, but it was just for that instant, the day's monotony soon had them in its current again. Surprise morphed into a venomous look or a casual smile and wonder was pulled back into the recesses of their hearts.

Mykalah plopped into her lonely seat and joylessly said, "Another glorious day in Cultures class."

With a sickeningly sweet voice the teacher, a mousy wood-Eldar, raptured, "What an exquisite morning students! For an equally exquisite subject! The half Eldar 'incident'." Her gray eyes grew wider as she looked over the class. She could barely contain her fathoms of glee, "Lucky us!"

A few furtive looks of horror darted around the room.

The teacher, Ms. Brogate, continued, "Why were the half Eldar's part of an 'incident', class? Let's see who did the reading." She called on a copper haired Delfer, more absorbed by his biscuit than the class. "Mr. Minwin, tell us why."

The Delfer stuttered, a crumb still on his lip, "Uh. . . lack of food?"

Mykalah muttered, "That's your greatest crisis, not the Eldar's".

The teacher giggled and batted at the Delfer's knuckles with a slim willow sprig, "No silly!"

He dropped his biscuit with a strangled yelp, but the instructor was already moving on. She looked back at Mykalah, "Miss Duath, I bet you could enlighten us."

Mykalah looked mortified for a hot second. Of all the questions. She wanted to melt like an ice shard in her seat, but she was not foolish enough to plead ignorance.

"The half Eldar massacre happened when a small nomadic group of half Eldars were run out of both a human and an Eldar communities and the half Eldars were 'mis-treated' as a warning to others that," Mykalah opened her leather book with yellowed pages and recited, " 'Impurities of dubious nature would not be allowed to filter into 'quality communities' ".

Mykalah, a mixed Eldar herself, looked up at the teacher with cold eyes, the words she just said tasted bitter in her mouth.

The teacher didn't seem to notice and stared back with a vacant but happy expression, "Thank you Miss Duath. Now class, this incident could have been avoided if every race learned how they should live in regards to one another. Your next assignment will extend over your vacation and regards this."

For once the students united for a moan of protest and fear. Ms. Brogate put up her slender hand, "Anymore outburst like that class and you all will be rewriting text book

pages. It's a simple assignment, unless, of course, you are chosen for one of the grander journeys." She brightened, "It will be good fun too! Five of your non- first class instructors will be a part of it, and it is worth quite a few marks. My part of the assignment is group choosing. You all must learn how to be around those of differing races, so until your upcoming vacation is over you must travel, share dwelling areas, and do the project with the people in your group. You will know your groups tomorrow."

The scope of the assignment grew grander with each class. The geography teacher would be choosing their destination, the earth study teacher wanted plants from that region, the physical training teacher was grading according to how long you took, and the teacher of lore wanted journals and investigation into the chosen area's local myths. The project was swiftly becoming more exciting and more daunting. They were being sent to a land they didn't know, with people they knew even less, to discover and survey, and a good portion of their marks were on the line.

The music festival was going to be a blessed release for the students after learning of the monstrous assignment, especially for Orelle, She read over her piece of music, composed for harp and voice and sang a few of the words. They were like luscious fruit to her mouth, and strummed the melody on her harp, each note seemed to bloom as they left her fingers. The song was perfume for the ear, and her path to Kennar. It was a song about him that offered up the contents of her heart without being cloying, or so she hoped. Now the important thing was to primp for a good hour, at least.

Solorya shared her living area with three other human girls, who she usually got along swimmingly with, but right now she was ready to barricade herself in her room to avoid them. She had stepped on a misplaced gold comb barefoot, tripped over stray shoes and had clothing deemed "unsuitable" for the festival thrown frantically towards her. Her area mates bordered on hysterical when in a hurry for a social get together. By the time they were done, Solorya was gagging on perfume and couldn't see the floor because of the mess. In preparation for the event, Solorya brushed her hair, put on her shoes and checked her smile in the mirror.

She called to the others, "Finished. Let's go."

Candlelight peeked through the heavy curtains of evening and bright paper lanterns diffused jewel tones across the crowd. Gaily colored ribbons fluttered from the poles that supported the lights and sconces, and the ground was coated in a myriad of color. Blankets of different shapes, sizes and textures encircled makeshift wooden platforms, as if the earth had decked herself in shawls. Bard students played their instruments or recited tales quietly from where they sat, sometimes drawing small crowds, until an older student took a place on a platform and performed much to the audienceÕs delight. Basking in amber light and sparks of color, the students listened to music or laughed with friends. The stars were endless and clear, and the waxing moon seemed low enough in the sky for the Glimmers to fly to.

Solorya was enjoying the time out and the company of Alyssum, who gushed about how splendid everything was the entire time. They watched as students began to hand pieces of music and poetry to the older students to be preformed. A beautiful, fair-colored hind seemed especially insistent that her piece be fished from the stack.

After a difficult aria, a nymph fished through the stack hoping for a poem, or something simple. She coughed softly before reading from the sheet she chose.

"Here's a little piece entitled 'To K.' by Ms. Orelle Doria." Kennar immediately blushed and stopped what he was doing to smile widely and regard the Hind. The nymph onstage read the poem over feeling for the unusual rhythm of the piece, satisfied she began:

"Once I had the will to wonder

And I wondered over you

But you've trampled my dream

With dirty hooves and reckless ways.

Wild horses tried to drag this heart away,

But here I am singing to say

I see you and I'm so unsatisfied

And for just once

My bruised hands will not stray

To you

So bang staves together

Play and pretend,

And my admiration like phoenix fire

On feathered wings

Dims, to let me aspire

To far better things."

A swell of pleased applause and murmurs rose, especially from the females. Amidst her acclaim, though, Orelle was too busy trying to snatch the piece of paper away.

"No! No! That's not it!"

Over her shoulder, Kennar was skulking away. Distressed, she looked between the piece of paper and the Centaur. With a quick huff of frustration she darted through the crowd after Kennar, chasing him to the outskirts of the crowd.

"Kennar! Kennar!" He finally turned to regard her. "That's not what I wrote. I don't know how it got up there. I mean I don't know how my or your name was on it. It's some cruel trick."

Kennar sighed but his look turned steely, "It was a cruel trick, but now you're adding a lie to it. I thought you were different, Orelle. Just leave me be."

Her strained protests were to Kennar's back. "I am different. I promise!"

When hand patted her back, Orelle was ready to break into tears. She turned her head to see Mykalah smiling beside her.

"You know, Orelle, after such positive debut as that mayhaps I should become a minstrel of sorts. Don't you think? Or maybe I'll just write your poems more often. Avoid the public eye and all."

Orelle shook Mykalah's hand off her and backed away, seething with emotion. She finally managed to speak through a mouth clenched so tight it pained her jaw and wore down her teeth.

"You!"

Mykalah feigned wide-eyed innocence, "Yes?"

That was the breaking point, Orelle seemed to almost growl and made a lunge for Mykalah, "You mixed brat! I'll kick you senseless!"

Mykalah sidestepped and laughed as Orelle reared past her, "You must catch me first."

Mykalah made a mock bow to the now gathering crowd.

 "Thank you it's been a rich musical experience." The mixed Eldar, knowing hinds were a good deal speedier than her, darted down the path towards the forest hoping for a head start. Orelle's amber eyes followed the Elf for but a Dragon's breath before the chase began.

And soon ended, at the border of the forest just outside the western wall of the Academy. Mykalah was reclining quite comfortably in a tree, while Orelle stomped below and made scalding threats that would offend even venerable drunks. Mykalah just laughed spitefully and commented, "Well my dear four legged friend, last time I checked you can't climb trees and you can't change your shape this close to the Academy's barriers." She teasingly peekd her head down.

 "I am prepared to spend the night here. Are you? I don't think you are, you're used to your soft pallet. Go home, Orelle, we have classes tomorrow." Mykalah recoiled her limbs and closed her eyes

Orelle was stubborn, though, she sat at the trunk of the tree and crossed her arms obstinately. Muttering about all the wicked things she could do when Mykalah awoke to find her here, alert as ever.

When Mykalah did wake, the sun was pushing through the leaves of the trees so a million tiny circles of light filled the forest. She hopped down from the tree, knowing she had very little time to run home and get ready for classes.

Most students shared a house with three others. Mykalah had a tiny three room hovel: bathing room, bedroom, sitting room. She couldn't find any area mates to get a normal dwelling are with. Even though it was minute in size, she liked that it was all hers and was fond of it, save that fact she always had to eat in the common dining hall.

As Mykalah was getting ready to run off, she was startled to find Orelle still at the base of the tree, folded into a golden hill.

"You are a stubborn one." She lightly tapped Orelle's side with her foot, "GET UP! Or you'll be late for class."

Orelle awoke to a silhouette of Mykalah over her. Morning grogginess clouded her thoughts, so she didn't realize her enemy was in her grasp until it was too late. She was already speeding away.

~*~

Three voices responded in unison, "Impossible!"

Orelle, Solorya, and Mykalah stood before the Culture teacher's desk, pointing at the sheet that assigned their new project and area mates. Alyssum only giggled, "It's interracial party time! Oh what fun, such different girls."

Orelle was first to state her case, "Look at her," meaning Mykalah, "She's part-" The hind lowered her head and spoke quietly as if saying an oath, and to most, it was.

"Poison Eater. We would be massacred as we slept."

Mykalah rolled her eyes, "Yes, I love to massacre at random intervals."

Orelle pointed to the Eldar, "She said it."

Solorya came next, "These two do not get along. How can I possibly finish the mission successfully when I'm playing babysitter for these children?"

Orelle came in, "Don't flatter yourself, human, I need no babysitting from your inferior kind."

Alyssum said quietly, "Ah, the plot thickens."

Mykalah overheard this and could not help but smirk.

"What are you laughing at, mix, at least I'm pure," Solorya stated hotly. She would not be called inferior. "And if humans are so inferior, Orelle, why does every creature here, save a few, have a human disguise?"

Ms. Brogate clapped her hands, "Oh perfect, you all are getting along splendidly. Such high amounts of interaction! Good work!"

They grew silent and agreed among themselves: she had gone rummy.

 Things went from bad to worse. Due to their high marks in Geography, they were given one of the harder if not the hardest assignment.

"Now girls," the geography teacher explained, "You all, of course, will be given extra time and credit for this. As a matter of fact, you four will be leaving in two days. I know Wyvernia is a good distance away, but all your parents have agreed to let you take the trip by gate. I wish you all luck, and oh a word of advice. If you have human forms I suggest you use them at certain points, some of the native peasants are a little, how do you say, 'unfriendly'."  He grinned broadly, "You all are so fortunate to be given such an opportunity."

Mykalah quipped, "Yes, I must be the luckiest girl in all Kinath."

The teacher patted her shoulder, "That's the spirit Mykalah!"

The four walked into their lore class late only to have the teacher wave his bright blue quill at them and exclaim, "Doria, Aranon, Thistle-velle and Duath don't think I don't see you!" He chuckled to himself as he scrawled on a piece of paper on his desk, "That's markage, girls."

In a sudden thrall, he fixed his sparking blue eyes on them, "Wait, you're the lucky ones aren't you?"

He rubbed his hands together, "Oh, I have a treat for you." All but Alysum's face fell. What teachers considered "treats" were pretty twisted.

"Wyvernia is, as we all know,  is known for its dragons. I want you girls to explore the gold dragon myth." He pushed his white beard over his shoulder in preparation for an animated lecture. "Alright then sit down now, we have a galvanizing lesson today." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and began to read from his book in an array of curious and odd voices.

 Mr. Therman laughed a belly laugh at the girls once he had gathered them after school, "My it's the- " Orelle interrupted Mr. Therman, "Yes, we know, 'the lucky ones'."

He raised an eyebrow and gestured to his axe, "That better not be sarcasm, Doria, there is no sarcasm in Therman land."

Orelle gulped hard, while Theman laughed and continued, "You all are supposed to fetch a specimen of climbing yellow sucker flowers. Make sure to watch your hands and shiny objects." He displayed a picture in a book of a good -sized flower leeching itself onto a person's necklace. "It truly is a fascinating plant. A favorite of moneylenders."

Alyssum, being nothing but a shiny object exclaimed, "What? I don - " but was soon muffled by Solorya who whispered, "No whining in Therman land either." Solorya then gestured to a jar on Therman's desk and explained, "Mortimer. A bit of a whiner. Eliant rest his soul."

Mr. Therman rose and started leaving but not before telling them, "That was pleasant. Now OUT!"

He didn't have to ask twice, the girls were out in less time than it takes a fire- breathing dragon to barbecue.

Once outside the second year's building, Orelle turned to the others, hating every moment she had to speak to them, but they were unified in their desperation to get out of this pairing.

"There's only one option now. We've got to see Superior Squamose."

Mykalah scoffed, "He rarely sees anyone, let alone second years."

Solorya gripped her sword, as if preparing for a battle, "Oh he'll see us if I have to charge the door down."

"That's a little extreme, doncha think Sol? I don't see what's so wrong. I like new and different people. And you are all different. Really different." Alyssum glanced around at the trio, "Really very different. Very, very, very . . ."

"That's enough, Alice" Mykalah interjected, "We're going to salvage this assignment. Squamose it is."

Squamose was a busy man according to his assistant. The human seemed off put by the very suggestion of bothering him.

"Sorry, girls appointments only."

"This is of the utmost urgency," Solorya insisted, "Look at those two. They might tear each other apart in mere seconds. He is duty and honor bound to see us in this our hour of need."

Orelle pressed her face near the assistant's, "And what is the Academy apart from its students? Us? We need help." Her expression turned peevish when this entreaty failed to move the human. "I'll write my father. I swear it!"

A creaky voice came through the door the assistant was trying to block bodily.

"Heh? Hum? What's all that Ms. Black?"

"Students. I'm trying to steer them away."

"Such a fuss out there, send them in, send them in."

Orelle looked at Ms. Black smugly as she sauntered through the door, "Let's go, ladies. The Superior beckons us."

The crusty old man to whom the voice belonged sat behind a large desk, displaying a hoard of shiny and precious objects. The shelves surrounding the room were a cacophony of light and color, cluttered with bottles, bones, scrolls, books with papers stuffed in them, and bric a brac they couldn't even begin to classify. Alyssum was immediately distracted and floated off into some especially festive looking corner.

"What to talk about today, Hmph?"

Solorya pushed forward before the others could begin to form a response, "Superior, Sir, we request a different group selection for our second year project. We are having a great deal of strife and we have not even left yet. I don't know if I can protect a group intent on destroying itself."

"Hmph."

"Please could you intervene?"

"Hem hm Hmph. Paperwork. Great amounts."

Solorya's expression quirked. He was every bit the 500 years old they claimed him to be. "Paperwork? Well, where can we find it?"

"Research the problem, and seals of permission too."

"Where do we research?"

He shook the handle of his spectacles, "Many places. Hmph, resources, high output level."

"What do you mean by output?"

"Ahemph. Output. Giving back to community. Hem. Shaping young minds."

"Excuse me, Sir? I don't understand."

"We are paving pathways. Teach a man to fish and all."

"Ah, um, yes?"

"We are in agreement. Like minds, forged together."

"What am I agreeing to?"

"Hmph, hem bluster bluster."

Mykalah was indignant, "What? Did you just answer 'bluster, bluster'! What in depths does that even mean!"

"Diversity, bluster, progress, hmph."

Mykalah's eyes were black as she placed her hand on the desk, "Is that Common Speak, Sir?"

"Common goals. Hemph. Moving forward. Harumph."

Mykalah grew sharper with each muttered word, "Common tongue please. I don't speak incompetent!"

"What's going on here!" the voice boomed as a window slammed, freezing every girl. Even Alyssum thumped on the floor as her wings stopped.

An Eldar looking young man stood beside the window. He had bronzed skin and pale gold hair cut short but rakishly passing in front of bright violet eyes. And his attire was that of an adventurous aristocrat with a touch of the scoundrel.

Orelle was immediately intrigued by the handsome stranger. Her charm turned on with a soft smile, "We're damsels in a bit of distress. And you?"

The young man tapped Squamose, making the man fizzle away in a cloud.

"Superior Squamose. I see you met Mr. Bureaucracy and yet you remain. I keep him out for the local politicians. I was expecting some today." He smiled, "You're a determined bunch to last so long."

He folded his hands on the desk, "And what brings a pack of second years my way?"

Orelle was blushing too much to answer, so Solorya did, "The group project."

"Ah a source of great consternation and excitement."

"Yes, more consternation for us. We need to change our group members."

"Do tell. You all look healthy to me."

"Yes but we have some great hostility within the group already."

Orelle pointed to Mykalah, "She's cruel."

"She's ignorant."

"They're childish."

"She's stuck up."

"I like pudding."

Squamose grinned at Alyssum, "I do too. Especially chocolate. As for the rest of you, I think this project is exactly what you need." A strange, perceptive light entered his eyes, "I know who you all are, where you come from and a little bit of where you're going, and I think you may surprise each other on the way. You have the ability to get high marks for this project, but whether or not you learn anything is up to you."