Young Writers Society

OOC: This is a private storybook, so please don't post if you're not one of the storybookers. To my fellow storybookers, all profiles and relevant information can be found here: Academy Wikia.

Welcome to the Academy for Heroes In-Training. This invitation has been sent to you specifically because we believe in your potential to become someone significant in the upcoming years.

The Academy for Heroes In-Training is an exclusive private school that caters to the descendants of famous beings with preternatural abilities. It's not at all limited to heroes' descendants, and has no qualms against taking villains' scion as well. All the staff asks is that you attend anti-villainy counseling, should you be a villain's descendant. This is not prejudice, but a safety precaution we’ve been forced to take.

Our academy offers a comprehensive academic program like no other, as well as rigorous training that would help you learn to control your powers and adapt to difficult situations. With us, you will grow to your full potential. Graduating from the academy will help you get a good start as a hero, and will earn you recognition among fellow heroes. Most of our alumni go on to become notable figures in the superhero field, and we hope you will follow in their footsteps.
Located right beside Luminescence City, the Academy for Heroes In-Training is perfect for students of all ages. Older students will be allowed off-campus on weekends, while younger children will be brought on supervised field trips to the city and forests surrounding the academy. The possibilities are endless with our academy, and we assure you that you will never find yourself too restricted. The staff are always easy to reach should you want special exceptions for yourself.

Our facility offers maximum security, and it's protected by the very best of our alumni. We have various facilities which students have access to, including but not limited to dormitories, coffee shops, tennis courts, a lake, indoor swimming pool, game room, a vast library, and a target practice room. When our students aren't occupied by their academic studies, we train them in the control and development of their powers, and they will go on field missions with their fellow students. These field missions will teach them to apply their powers practically, and will forge a camaraderie between the students. They are perfectly safe, and the students will always be accompanied by a member of a faculty, who would step in if things get too dangerous.

In addition to all that, the academy does not require any fees at all, and you will be fed three times a day and housed for free. Both rich and poor are welcome here, and we do not discriminate against anyone. If you have any questions, feel free to ask the agent who brought this letter. He will wait for your response, and should you choose to join us, will transport you to our facility. You will automatically be assigned to a residence, although arrangements can be made if you wish to stay elsewhere.

We understand that each individual has unique powers, and design course loads according to their strengths and weaknesses. A pyromaniac will not be required to take swimming lessons, for example. We know exactly what you need, and what you would be capable of. As such, we have been one of the most prestigious and recognized Academies to exist.

We hope to see you soon!

- The Academy Staff

Ephraim vi Britannia | 3:00PM, 09/28 | Britannia Palace, Pendragon, Texas |
He’d lost again. He’d lost the battle, he’d lost his men, lost his standing. Lost Chris and the fragile thread he’d forged between them—lost the Knight that was supposed to have stayed at his side for the years and years to come and could have been the one anchor he could rely on. All in a little more than a morning, and all he had to show for it was his battered KF and a battalion that had been near-decimated.

Ephraim vi Britannia had lost, and Charles zi Britannia, Lord and Emperor of the Holy Britannia Empire, has little patience or mercy for those who failed in their tasks, no matter how impossible they were or what treachery they faced, and even moreso when one of his own blood did.

Unworthy. Worthless. Thoughtless. Irresponsible.

The words echoed in his mind and he would have raged at the injustice of it, but there was no protesting, not under his Lord father’s heavy, lidded predator’s eyes. Head lowered in submission and fists clenched, fingers digging even through the cloth of his dress uniform’s gloves, he stood still and pale-faced as his chevrons were stripped off and his command taken away—all the work he’d put in, all those years fighting and striving for his position... all gone to ashes.

He could taste them in his mouth, thick and dry, and could not swallow down the shame or the helplessness or the rage, only meet the Emperor’s cool gaze one last time before bowing deeply and retreating back and away, stiff-backed and eyes front as he tried to ignore the weight of the looks shot his way. Nobles and their frills, their pomaded hands and their powdered wigs and their glimmering masks and lies, who could not survive as they did without the army behind them, around them, on the frontlines where the fight was.

Is he here, I wonder? Green eyes swept over the crowd, in search of—a mirror, a reflection, but there were only lights and masks, and the sneers, the murmurs.

Fine.

The great doors seemed silent as they opened, but when they shut behind him the sound was near deafening. “Your Highness.” He turned towards the two Knights flanking him, and inclined his head, resigned to what was going to come. “Please follow us.” Fighting now would be stupid and he’d learned when to shut up and follow orders, reckless as he was at times.

10:00AM, 09/10 | Britannia Palace, Pendragon, Texas |
Two days confined in quarters that were cells in all but name, left to marinate in the guilt and the failure, and then he was finally out. Where to, now? He didn’t dare ask; he’d know soon enough.

Alright, so he hadn’t expected being brought in to face his father again. Stance instantly shifting from dignified resignation to submissive, he eyed the third man in the room. Dressed like a noble, albeit one of the lesser ones, and looking at him with badly-veiled interest. What now?

He looked askance at the Emperor, and Ephraim didn’t like that half-smile at all. No choice but to listen though, and it was hard enough not to fly off in a rage as he listened to the man’s offer. An academy? What the hell? He’d graduated from the military academy years ago, what the—arrogant bastard trying to get him to—

Do not say a word, said his father’s smothering violet gaze, and he swallowed them back like he had swallowed the blood on his tongue back during that battle, when he’d felt Chris die from the other side of the battlefield.

Ephraim said nothing, and nodded at all the right places, and the day after that his meager belonging were packed and sent off and he was sitting shotgun on an armored vehicle, that strange man who claimed to be a representative of that academy, clad in full dress uniform minus his chevrons.

Where they were, he had not an idea, but he was stuck now, wasn’t he. Backing down, escaping... all of them would be admitting his defeat even more, and that he wasn’t about to let happen.

At least he was one of the first there: he inspected the residence critically (Coruscant, was it), had to admit that that was one sight better than the barracks. And whoever it was that was to be rooming with him hadn’t arrived yet, which meant he had free choice of the room.

Not that there was that much difference between them, but it was nice having some semblance of choice.

That was done fast though, and soon he was out again, sneakily loosening that pesky cravat they were apparently intent on tacking onto every single uniform in the whole country and marching into the forming tiny crowd as more people seemed to arrive. He raised a brow at some of the stranger ones—was that a bipedal talking animal, what—but maintained his composure as he could.

No more losing. Never again. (liar) There was a humming silence in his mind, like the calm that stole over you when the explosions had overloaded the audio receptors on a Knightmare, the seconds that took while it rebooted. It was starting, and he was there.

He was there, just there, and there was no leaving. Eyes over the campus, over the raised buildings and the open spaces all around, he closed his eyes and breathed. Chris’ laugh rang at his ears again, and he smiled.

And let go.

Don’t look back.

Time to win, Ephraim.

Leander vi Britannia | Britannian Court | September 29, 9:07 AM
The cameras rolled on, absorbing and transmitting every word His Highness Charles spat out. Spat, because there was no other way to describe it. The man running the strongest kingdom in the entire world saw no beauty in words, and only saw power in brute force.

Much like someone else… I wonder if he’s watching this right now. Must be. Everyone in the military is required to watch.

Leander stood beside his father, still as the quiet that had settled itself among the courtiers around them. He had been instructed to simply stay, that was all. Nothing more, nothing less. Their beloved crown prince’s presence was all the people needed to soothe their grief, and the prince gave them what they wanted. He stood there, smiling ever so faintly, eyes directed right at the camera so anyone watching would meet vibrant green eyes, and wonder why their prince tried so hard to hide his blue eye from view.

Then it happened. Leander’s breath wrapped itself around his throat, choking him, and he blanched as he turned to his father with a weak smile. This was not supposed to happen; it wasn’t scripted. Leander reviewed the script himself. His father said nothing, only continued to speak to the camera. Leander would not receive any attention until the emperor addressed him. A few courtiers sent adoring stares his way, not seeming to notice his pale countenance.

“Father?” Leander choked out, willing himself to remain calm. He could convince his father to let him stay, surely. He’d convinced his father of more difficult things before. Leander glanced back at the camera and smiled, doing his best to keep any remaining control he had over the situation from slipping away. Calm, stay calm. Your Grace. He cannot send you away.

The smug ruler stood up, and his eyes branded Leander a traitor once more, like that other day in court. Panic clawed itself through Leander’s veins, sending his heart into an erratic dance. A few whispers among the court as the Emperor turned to face his son.

Even the most talented Gracelings couldn’t eradicate hate from a man’s heart.

He could remember the argument, loud and clear in his head, replaying itself, tearing through his alarmed mind. He shouldn’t have touched that topic fuck it he only wanted to know the truth the truth was overrated, he should know that more than anyone else in the entire world he was the biggest liar of them all except maybe God if He existed –

“Leander? Your thoughts?”

And his father’s cool voice yanked him out of his daze. All eyes rested on Leander, none of them hostile. All of them expecting their beloved prince to say something magnanimous and wise, or something along those lines. Leander fought the urge to swallow and presented a smile to the camera. Smiled at the camera; everybody was watching him, and he could not fail now. He could not bear to ask his father to repeat whatever question was asked of him, in fact, the thought never crossed his mind.

Blindly, he forged ahead. “I’m honored to have received an invitation to the Academy,” Leander announced. The delighted faces of the people betrayed nothing; they’d have grinned even if Leander had told them they belonged with the pigs. Somewhere out there, he was laughing, though. Leander’s grip on the podium tightened, and with a clammy hand he gestured at his father.

“The Academy is where all great men start, even though there are exceptions, such as my father.” Flattery propelled peasants to nobility; why shouldn’t it work for Leander? He could not shirk from this opportunity, not after the way his father presented it. Besides, demurring the offer would only anger Father more, and that wouldn’t do, not if he wanted to be formally anointed as crown prince. Leander took a deep breath. “I regret that it will take me away from you…”

And he let the lies spill from his lips once more. These were the same old lies he’d told the county every time a revolution threatened to take place, disguised with different words. But they never got tired of it anyway, so he forged on, and let them drown in the sweet ideals they would never see.

The camera clicked, signaling the end of the broadcast. Father and son traded icy stares for several moments. Then Charles zi Britannia smiled, knowing he had won this round. He’d trapped Leander, and neatly at that. How could he have allowed this? He should have been more careful; the court was all about lulling others into a false sense of security. He’d been taught this from his childhood. He’d just never expected…this. Every single day ever since he’d come to the palace, he’d stood there beside his father as his father made his customary daily speech. The people had watched Leander grow up. Even when sick, their beloved prince showed up to present the nation with a smile and a dose of optimism.

Who’d have thought that one day Charles would use this against him? Once again, Leander learned something new from his father. Harshly. Leander’s throat constricted as his Father congratulated him on his wise decision, and nodded at the Knights, whose hands were yet on their swords.

Leander chuckled weakly. Checkmate, wasn’t it? If he’d refused, then the cameras would have blacked out and the knights murdered him, and when they came back on the king would be gone and one of his half-brothers would bewail an ambush. He’d dodged a narrow one there. Leander pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep breath, attempting to steady his frail nerves.

The courtiers slowly swarmed around Leander, fawning over him for his decision to enroll in the Academy and further his education. From behind the mob of faces, the prince watched his father’s retreating back, and in that moment he realized all he wanted to do was retire to his room and stuff Daedalus full of treats as he complained to the owl. So politely, he excused himself from the noblemen, telling them he had to pack, even though he knew he had servants for that.

Not as if any of them would question his word anyway. Worse than owls, the lot of them. At least Daedalus pecked him in consternation sometimes.

Leander vi Britannia | The Academy for Heroes In-Training | October 9, 1:28 PM

Silence. The limousine had been bullet-proof, and equipped with several dozen alarms that would notify the Knights in case anything attacked the prince. And yet, as he rode towards the Academy, the prince couldn’t shake the paranoia that had clung to him.

Who was to say his father wouldn’t murder him right now? His nails dug into his palms, where sweat mingled with blood. On his shoulder, Daedalus slept, waking up only to peck him behind the ear for a treat.

The vehicle pulled up to the Academy safe and sound. The agent’s breathing filled Leander’s ears, even though she sat opposite him. Lady Von Weller shifted in her seat, a contented smile on her face.

The door opened, and he let her alight from the vehicle first. “Welcome to the Academy for Heroes In-Training, Leander.”

He only stepped out after her, cupped Daedalus in his palms, and headed towards the dormitory without another word. The unspoken order was understood. His belongings would have to be sent after him.

In his hands, the little owl yawned. Sunshine filtered through yellowing leaves. At least the air here was fresh; Leander had almost feared polluted air and filthy surroundings.

“There’s a gathering for new students by the lake should you find yourself bored, Leander. Have fun.”

Fun. Tch. Only one comforting thought about the incident: for some reason kept a tight secret from Leander, Ephraim had been missing on the day of the broadcast, when their father had trapped him in front of the entire nation.

The lounge was empty as he strode into the elevator and slammed his key into the slot. The owl headed back for his shoulder, and Leander leaned on the elevator wall, a blank expression on his face. He couldn’t sulk about this. He shouldn’t. Instead, he ought to work on turning the tide.

The game had restarted. This time, he couldn’t let his father set up the conditions. Leander had to force the man into a retreat before he could attack. The elevator doors slid open, and Leander stepped into the room. The looming city on the horizon caught his attention first, and he appreciated the architecture of the residence.

A frown graced his features as he found several items scattered about in the kitchenette, and he sought to arrange them at once, putting them in proper order. He realized, with a touch of annoyance, that he would no longer have the first choice when it came to rooms, and scowled. But he wouldn’t be petty about that. Not the time.

“Leave my belongings in the unoccupied room, and don’t touch them,” he instructed the saps carrying his belongings. Hefty suitcases there. Leander did not pack light: one had to have clothes for every occasion.

He arrived by the lake just in time to be ushered to a seat. The principal seemed to be droning on about the school, and Leander, bored, let his gaze wander, and met blue eyes. Blue, just like the color of his left eye. Perhaps hers were a touch brighter, though.

“…And after you introduce yourselves onstage, you may feel free to roam the campus. There will be a live band playing the café, located in the M. D. Nia Building right behind us. We hope you enjoy your first night here at the Academy. Classes will start on Monday. Let’s start with the introductions, shall we?”

Alexis Nolvai | Chbosky Ward | May 7, 3:47 AM

Kara will love this, I just know it! The glass-eyed girl stared at the birthday card in her lap. The tiny head lamp she wore barely illuminated the words, but she had it memorized by then. Her fingers clutched onto a green marker and she popped the lid off, smiling as the smell filled her nose. Carefully, she painted more stick figures and faces on the card to make it look as perfect as it could be. And all-in-all, she was giddy with excitement. It was Kara's birthday and her last day in the Chbosky ward.

Alex's cheeks rose with a smile as she folded in the card and tucked it under her mattress. She could barely see a darned thing with her old head lamp, but the blue light was all she could risk using after bed time. Her head turned down and the light shone dimly on the linoleum floor. Dainty pale feet touched the cold floor and she skipped across her whitewashed bedroom to the window that overlooked a quaint stretch of grassy field lit softly by the moon and stars. She crossed her legs when she sat on the ledge and stared up into the dark blue air. Her eyes filled with wonder and hope for her friend and silently, she made a wish.

Shining star--I'll name you Naomi because that sounds like a sweet name--please watch over Kara. You're very high up in the sky and I know you can see her, so you probably know how forgetful she can be. Please keep her safe. For me? That's my wish tonight, Naomi.

With her earnest prayer said and with her pale green hospital gown drawn loosely around her waist, Alex laid down to sleep that night, May 7th.

When she awoke, the air was brisk and chilly in the ward and her blankets were strewn somewhere across the room. An orderly stood at the door, rubbing her hands with sanitizer. "You were screaming again last night, Alee."

Alex drew her arms around her chest and shivered, burying her chin in her chest. "I don't remember any dreams, Miss Donna."

The black-haired woman nodded and pointed to a set of clothes laid out on the foot of the bed. "Get dressed, hon. Therapy is early today." Donna put a hand on the door and looked back at Alex. "And don't forget your medicine."

Alex nodded and smiled to the woman, shivering as she hopped down out of the bed and into bunny slippers. The woman left the room as Alex got dressed and returned with a brush in her hand. Alex turned her head and drew her eyes wide when she saw what else the woman held: makeup and lip gloss. "They're letting me be special today?" The girl opened her mouth and popped three blue pills onto her tongue, chasing them with bitter tap water.

Donna smiled and pulled up a chair beside Alex in front of a mirror, opening a small vial of foundation. "They're letting you be special for Kara's party today, sweetie." The woman held Alex's face gently and smeared on the makeup until she looked like a porcelain doll. Alex peered into the mirror and smiled, her vacant eyes squinting at the unfamiliar girl staring at her. "She's pretty, Miss Donna. What's her name?"

Donna put a comforting hand on Alex's shoulder. "Her name is Alex, dear, and she is beautiful."

-- -- --

There were seven young women in the party room, all sitting around a round, plastic table. The room had white walls, white lights, and a fading blue carpet that had worn with age. In front of one girl with dark blonde hair and green eyes sat a small stack of presents--some wrapped in newspaper, others left alone as they were. The largest of the gifts was a photo album that had been gutted and filled with a scrapbook. The blonde girl smiled vacantly as she opened her presents, taking the most time on the large book. "There's a card," she exclaimed, and opened it slowly. "It's from Alex!" Alex, who sat right beside the blonde girl, smiled just for Kara's happiness. She figured that the last moments they had together would have to be the best.

The scrapbook contained bits an pieces of all of their memories together in the ward, from Alex's move-in day to then, and it all brought tears to Kara's empty green eyes. "You are so sweet," she said, hugging Alex tightly.

Alex closed her eyes and hugged Kara in return, breathing in her distilled aroma. "You deserve the world, Kara." Alex had never felt so honest in her life, but the time called for such a statement.

Kara let go of her as the orderlies began cleaning up things from the party. She leaned in closely and whispered something in Alex's ear. "What do you think will become of me?"

Alex's Valium eyes widened, but then stared ahead to Kara's face. "You will be free. You will be free as a soul, as a cloud in the wind." Tears came to Alex's eyes, but she nodded quickly and placed both of her hands on Kara's shoulders. "All that you know will change, and you will make new memories and feel new emotions. The nightmares will stop, and, and you'll be able to breathe easily." Alex's voice began to drown in her tears, so she stopped speaking, leaving only to embrace Kara tightly.

That was the day that Kara left the Chbosky Mental ward, her 18th birthday. And it was the day that Alexis Nolvai began to break down.

Alexis Nolvai | Chbosky Ward | September 19 | 4:32 AM

"Alex!" Donna's cold hands grasped onto thin arms, stopping the shaking from a nightmare. Alex, asleep, seized and fought against the restraint, screaming at the top of her lungs. Her voice rose and fell in sobs and shrieks, piercing Donna's ears and making her head throb.

"Stop!," Alex screamed, "She's my baby! Ah--No!" Donna's eyes rose to the table beside Alex's bed where a glass of water lifted off the table, flying towards the mirror across the room. The two collided and glass shattered across the floor. Alex's screaming suddenly fell eerily silent, just as her movements. And, just like nothing had happened, Alex was sound asleep.

-- -- --

"Please understand our reasons, Miss Nolvai," an old man in glasses and a brown suit leaned forward, placing his elbows on the conference desk in which he sat. The fluorescent lights filled his lenses and he folded his hands together in front of him. "Under mysterious circumstances, expensive items in your room have been broken, destroyed, removed with no hint as to their location... Your night terrors have been disturbing the other patients." He ran a finger up his nose, centering his glasses. "And, to be frank, Miss Nolvai, you're close enough to eighteen for us to let you go."

Alex, the thin girl with red-brown hair and glassy blue eyes sat in front of a board of officials, all of whom simply wanted her gone. The man who spoke, he was Dr. Roan Chbosky, the founder and proprietor of the clinic. Alex had sat idly for nearly an hour listening to their cases, but she had no defense. No one wanted to fight for her when they didn't know if a flying petri dish would slam into their skull or not. People feared sweet Alee. But she wondered if there was good reason behind the fear.

"So understand, now, that our decision will stand that you be removed from this clinic and placed in an academy for youths with your peculiarities." Dr. Chbosky nodded. "Have you anything to say?"

Alex stared at the floor, at her canvas shoes and at her dark purple skirt. She lifted her head and looked at Dr. Chbosky with soft eyes, shaking her head. "All I can give to you is an apology for the unknown." Her lips pressed together and she looked at each and every face in front of her. "I can't control what is happening very well and I understand your fear. And I think that it's natural to distrust me when I'm such...such an enigma to you." She gave off a soft breath and looked dead at Dr. Chbosky. "But there is only one Alex Nolvai in the world, Dr. Chbosky. Miss Donna showed me...all of the Alex's and all of the Roan's and all of the Donna's in the world, but there is only one of me, one of you, and one of her. So, we're all mysteries to one another, aren't we?"

The room was silent, then, and no one had the heart to say a word.

Alexis Nolvai | A. Jagged Lake | October 9, 1:50 PM

Alex wondered how the lake was so still, so calm in the wind. Weren't there fish in the lake? She couldn't be sure, and she wasn't going to go fishing for any, so she would have to sit and ponder the question a bit more. Everyone sat very isolated in the congregation by the lake. It was odd, at least to Alex. But she sat back and drummed her fingers together, humming along with the birds in the air. A man took the stage to speak and gave a brief introduction that Alex missed completely. Her eyes, though, scanned the crowd for anyone that may have looked familiar, even though she knew it couldn't happen.

A glint of bright green caught Alex's sight and she peered straight ahead into a queer hypnosis. For a moment, she lulled in thought and stalled, but snapped out of it as a tiny bug ran across her foot. Alex looked back to the stage and droned out the sounds again as a young boy zipped to the stage to give his introduction.

Midgar Farm, October 9, 7.30am
The letter was pinned to the notice board, next to the hand-scrawled notes detailing breeding habits and stock counts. Kumo’s eyes kept going to it, even as she ducked her head over her porridge. The mush was warm and somehow enjoyable even though it tasted like cardboard, as only porridge can.
“Are you sure you want to go, Kumo?”
Kumo looked up into her mother’s brown eyes and sighed. “Yes, I’ve told you this.”
“It’s just… you’ll be away for a long time.” A chair scraped back, Tifa sat down and traced her fingertip over the table, tracing random swirls in the wood.
“I know. I’ve been here a long time.”
“I guess…I’ll miss you.” Tifa sighed. “You’re my only baby and…”
“Mum.” No answer, Tifa’s head was ducked into her chest. “Mum! I’ll be fine. I’ll come home for holidays or something.”
“That you will, young woman. I want you to write home every week! No, twice a week! And if you get hurt you have to come home, and if you get homesick-”
“Mum, stop. I’ll be fine.” Kumo’s head came dangerously close to the table in frustration. She was sure that this conversation had already occurred, and it was painful every time. When Tifa didn’t reply, she saw her opportunity. “I’m going to go pack, okay?”

Leaving the table, Kumo dumped her bowl into the basin and walked straight out the door. Her bags had been packed for days now, since from about five minutes after the letter had hit the table after being read. What she really needed to do was pack up Pez’s stuff. If she was going to leave her home of seventeen years to go learn more about fighting, goddamit, she was going to bring some of home with her.

The stables were warm, as always. Kumo’s mother didn’t like it in here, saying it was stuffy, but to Kumo, it was where she was at home. Since she was old enough to walk she could be found in here, first irritating and finally breeding the chocobos, half of which she had hand-reared or caught herself. Pez was in the stall at the end, already warking for attention. He was the youngest of the birds, and she was intensely proud of him. He’d already won all the races she’d put him into, being incredibly fast even for a chocobo. But this wasn’t the only reason she had to take him in particular- he’d already attempted to take a chunk out of her father more than once. He just wasn’t his bird. She’d be forced to turn the rest of the stock over to her father- but that wasn’t really a worry, the rest of them loved him to bits.

Pez was stomping his feet by the time she got to him, clicking his beak excitedly. Kumo stroked his neck and opened the stall, allowing him to lean up against her. He smelt of dust and spice, and he weighed a ton, but Kumo didn’t mind. He still thought he was a chick, and threw his weight around without realising. She gathered up the tack and saddle, even though she normally rode without it, just in case.

She grabbed the cloth and wiped them down, checking the joints for rot. Satisfied, she threw them over her shoulder and wandered past the other stalls, taking a moment to say goodbye to each of the birds. They peered at her curiously, nudging in askance for greens, clicking their beaks and cooing, trying to sweet talk her into indulging them. She smiled and patted each one, sad at the prospect of coming back and being unable to name every one in the stable, as well what their condition was and the result of their latest race. They would grow, breed, and the eldest ones may even die before she got back. The thought made her hands tremble, and as she walked out of the stables, her eyes were shiny with restrained emotion.

Pez followed close behind, unrestrained, as Kumo knew that as far as he wandered, he would be back. She waved at her father in the fields, quickly wiping her face with her other hand. She piled Pez’s stuff next to her own by the front door of the farm house. She patted Pez, walked inside, grabbed her letter, went back outside to sat down and wait.

She saw the airship a long time before it grew close, as the air around the farm was clear and mainly unhindered by mountains. She pushed away the playful chocobo and stood up, squinting into the sun.

“Is that your ride?”
Kumo started, and turned around to see her father standing beside her, and smiled. “I think so. Can’t think of another reason that a airship would come this way.”
“I can think of a few reasons, but they are unlikely.”
Kumo smiled, and turned back to watch the approaching ship. She was surprised by a hand on her shoulder, but didn’t move as her father spoke.
“I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too, Dad.”
“Kumo, I want you to take this.”
Kumo turned back and gasped. In his hands was his pride and joy, his Buster Sword, complete with harness. “But…”
“Take it. You should have something you’re used to using, other than that bird of yours.”
Kumo nodded, taking the sword and strapping the harness on, settling it between her shoulderblades. “Thank you.”
Cloud nodded, and they both turned to watch the ship that would take her away.

Leaving was almost as bad as Kumo had been dreading. Not only was she leaving her home and her birds, but her mother would not stop crying. She’d found a wet patch on her shirt after she pulled back from the farewell hug, and couldn’t help but feel bad. She’d never really spent much time with her mother, and to see her so torn up about her leaving was something she was not prepared for. Hesitantly she kissed her on the cheek, tasting salt from her tears, and smiled a little. “I’ll be back before you know it, Mum. Relax, okay?”

The next challenge was Pez. While being curious about the giant airship, he really did not feel the need to get on it. Eventually Kumo had to put on his harness and coax him into the steel belly of the ship, and tie him into the stall set up for him. He was still warking in protest as she left to say he final goodbye.

Eventually she was saved from her mother bye the guide, who had been impatiently staring at his watch and tapping his foot. She was ushered into the ship as he straightened his suit, picking off golden feathers from the earlier ordeal. “I have another student to pick up. We’re late.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, just get in the ship.”

After a quick glance around the ship, she made her way to the deck, and ran to the rail, waving out at her parents. The engines roared and she watched her home, her life, drop away beneath her. She felt tears come to her eyes, and this time, she did not bother to hide them. She was soon ushered inside, being told it was not safe on deck on this particular journey.

The flight did not take as long as she thought it should, and sitting in the lounge room with her feet kicked up on the sofa, she was surprised to hear the engines power down. “What’s going on?”
“I told you. We have another student to pick up.”
“Oh. Should I come with you?” she added as she watched the guide stand and make for the door.
“No, you…you would not fit in here.”
Kumo sighed and sat back down. She didn’t like sitting down, but the various crew members always ushered her back here when she tried to wander. She didn’t even have a window to look out of.

After what felt like an eternity, the door opened and a woman strode in, settling her bags down and taking a seat. Her hair was white, and her skin dark, and she was wearing very little. Kumo swung her feet down to the floor quickly, and tried a smile. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
A silence followed, and Kumo looked her new companion over carefully as the darker girl lay down, and started breathing deeply. She came from somewhere very hot, judging by her clothing, which covered the offensive parts and not much else. She was tall and fit, and her hair was styled short, and was as white as her own.
Kumo waited for her to say something more, and when nothing came, she settled back down for the flight.

----

The Dorm- Townsville Hall, 1.30pm

“What the hell is this?” Kumo looked around Townsville Hall, her bags at her feet. Everywhere she looked, green, blue, and pink. It was like some six year old’s bedroom, one that was obsessed with all things Girly.
“Excuse me.”
Kumo started, and then stepped aside, running her hands through her hair, a bit embarrassed with her outburst. She’d been put in the same room as her flight-mate, and still didn’t know her name. The other girl had never spoke, so neither had Kumo.
Kumo sighed, and put her bags on her bed, and turned around. “We have to go to the lake, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Um. I’m Kumo.”
“I’m Caroline.”
Kumo nodded, and grabbed her bag with what she had packed for the day. “You coming?”
“Anything to get out of this room.”
Kumo laughed, and was still grinning foolishly as they left for the lake.

Jagged Lake, 1.52pm

The lake was a clear blue, and nearby were the stables where Pez had been put on landing. Kumo’s fingers twitched as she fought the instinct to go see him, to see a part of home. The only thing that stopped her was the staff standing around and the comforting weight of the sword strapped to her back. She blanked out for most of the talking on stage, more interested in looking around at what she guessed were her classmates. One guy caught her eye, with blonde hair, and ridiculous clothing. He even had a cravat. He didn’t looked too happy to be here. There was a dark haired girl already looking him over.
There was Caroline, over the other side of the small crowd, a small turquoise hedgehog, a twitchy boy, and- kumo blinked, looked back at the boy standing near her, and then back over at the guy near Caroline. He looked almost identical to the boy near her, but with no cravat, and overall, less frilly clothing. Twins, she realised. Boring. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the stage.

Caroline. Wakanda. October 9, 9:50am.

Caroline craned her neck to look out across the river. The water rippled in the breeze and nearby leaves on the trees rustled. Resting her head back on the grass, she closed her eyes and smiled. For a few moments, all she could hear was the sounds of nature around her.

“Have you packed everything you’ll need?”

Without opening her eyes, she said, “What everything? I own nothing.”

The leaves rustled again as her mother sat down beside her. Caroline sat up and opened her eyes. “I just thought there might be things you wanted to take along. Sentimental things, maybe.”

“You didn’t raise me to be sentimental. You can relax, though. I’ve packed everything I need.”

Storm smiled at her daughter. “I’m sorry. Just ignore me. I’m just jealous it’s not me going instead of you. I’ll just pretend that you’ll be there to represent me.”

Caroline grinned at her mother. “Being part of the X-Men and a Queen isn’t enough for you? How greedy can you get?”

Storm rolled her eyes. “You think being a Queen means anything here? I’m nothing more than a figurehead, here to watch over their festivals and approve of all the decisions your father makes.”

“Oh, love,” Caroline said. “The things it makes us do.”

Storm turned to her daughter and smirked. “Are you mocking me, Caroline?”

“What if I am?”

There was silence for a few seconds. Storm continued to smile, but Caroline noticed that her mother’s eyes had gone white. “What are you doing?” She stood up and turned to run, but a funnel of water spun out of the ocean and surrounded her. Caroline froze. “Come on! This isn’t fair. Stop!”

Storm shrugged. “As you wish.” The funnel collapsed inwards, saturating Caroline. She shrieked. “Just remember, Caroline. No matter how much they train you at this place, I will always be your mother. And that means that I will always be able to best you.”

As she stood up, Caroline wrapped her arms around her causing Storm to exclaim in disgust. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too. This is probably for the best, though.”

“I guess you’re right. There’s nothing to do around here except get chased by boys.”

“When you come back, you’ll be able to teach them a lesson.”

“I intend to.” Caroline turned back to the river. “I’ll miss the place. Do you think it’ll be like this there? We don’t know anything about it. Will there be a river I can swim in, or trees to climb? I’m afraid I’m going to end up trapped inside all the time. Classes. Who needs them?”

“You do,” Storm said, putting a hand on Caroline’s shoulder. "We can’t have another incident like last winter. You cooked our entire winter store in a night. Once you have your powers under control, maybe you’ll get to be Queen.”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I want in my life.”

“You’ll want to settle down when you’re older. Just look at me.”

“You are the worst example.”

“It didn’t occur to me until I said it. Look at someone else.” Storm shook her head and her long her flew in all directions. It was the one concession that she had allowed herself since “settling down.” She had maintained that her daughter keep her hair short, though, and had proved her point by ordering every one of Caroline’s opponents to incapacitate her using her treasured locks of hair. Caroline had conceded the point and cut her hair. Now it didn’t even reach her shoulders.

“Do you think Dad’ll come say goodbye?”

Storm smiled thinly. “Your father has had a lot to do lately. He’s out meeting a group of diplomats from some nearby – place. I don’t even keep track anymore. There’s only so long I can interest myself in the pleasantries of a place that isn’t my own.”

“Let’s just hope that a lot happens in the next few months to keep you away from here.”

Storm nodded. “It seems wrong to hope for bad things to happen, but I do. I miss Xavier. Sometimes I even miss Scott. I still say that it could be better to send you to the Institute. But your father insists. This place must have something going for it.”

“Mmm. I’d better get back. They’ll be picking me up soon.” Caroline started to walk away.

“Wait!” Caroline turned around. “You look terrible. Let me dry you off.” Before Caroline could respond, Storm waved a hand and a gust of wind sprang from nowhere. It almost knocked Caroline from her feet. She stood against it until Storm was satisfied with her appearance.

“There. Let’s go back.” The two of them walked across the fields in silence, preoccupied with their own thoughts. Caroline frowned and stared at her feet. Storm noticed her expression and wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “You’ll be amazing.”

As they rounded a bend and Wakanda came into view, Carolina saw a group of people standing around. When they saw her, they began to cheer. She couldn’t suppress a grin. They drew closer and she began to make out her name among the things they were chanting. She kept the smile on her face, keeping up the appearance of happiness just as her mother had taught her to do.

They had prepared a celebratory roast for her. Obviously her destruction of the winter store had been forgotten, she thought. Either that or they knew there was no more risk to their food if she was leaving.

An hour after their feast began, someone spotted the first sign of Caroline’s transport. It was still a speck in the sky, and its sound seemed to approach faster than aircraft itself did. More and more people gathered to watch it draw near. It didn’t take them long to become bored, though. It was close to midday, the perfect time for hunting. As they gathered their weapons and discussed the day’s hunt ahead, she felt a twinge of jealousy.

The ship came closer, and its appearance became clearer to them all. “That thing is a monstrosity.”

Caroline started. She hadn’t noticed Storm approaching. “It is. Luckily I won’t have to be in it for long. At least, I hope I won’t have to be.” Her stomach coiled itself into knots and she let out a breath.

“Relax. It looks like there’s room enough inside that you’ll hardly even notice. Just try to sleep.”

“Uh huh. Thanks.” As she spoke, the ship landed. The people who remained paused to watch the ungainly descent. A man emerged from the ship. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Want me to help carry your bags?”

“I can do it. I’ll be back soon, I swear.”

“You’d better be. I’ll go insane without someone to talk to.”

Caroline just smiled and turned towards the ship. It felt like she was growing heavier with each step she took. She tried not to focus on it, but her mind filled with images of cramped spaces. The man opened his mouth to greet her. “I’m Caroline. I’m sure you’ve got a busy schedule. Let’s get going.” She continued past him and into the ship.

It wasn’t as cramped as she had feared, although still enough to disquiet her. There was another passenger sitting on a couch. The girl had hair almost the same colour as Caroline’s. She seemed to be staring at Caroline as she entered, and Caroline looked down at herself, wondering if she had done something wrong. It was true that the girl’s clothes covered more of her body, but Caroline didn’t know how she could stand the stifling heat. There was silence.

She was struck by the ship’s size once more, and put her bags down. There was a rumbling under her feet as the ship began to move. Caroline rushed to a couch and settled herself down. “Hi,” the girl said.

“Hello.” Caroline lay back and closed her eyes, trying to prevent her deep breaths. She cursed herself, knowing that the other girl would think she was weak. The first thing her mother had taught her as a child was that she should never reveal her weaknesses to others, and she had already failed. As the ship lifted from the ground and her home disappeared, Caroline tried to measure her breathing and calm herself down.

Zeke
Angel Island, Mobius
3:15 pm

Angel Island, the airborne anomaly that roamed Mobius. Now how the hell am I supposed to get up there?
Hmm. There was something on his head. A tiny blue bird peered down at him. A Flicky.
“Any ideas?”
The Flicky let out a peep and began flapping its wings. It lifted itself off of Zeke's head and fluttered around him. Zeke grinned.
“Not an option, I'm afraid, my avian chum. I'm gonna have to do this supersonic style.”

Running across the grassy plains of the Green Hills Zone, Zeke spotted Gimmick Mountain looming up ahead. And by the way Angel Island's shadow was creeping up the face of the mechanical peak – Zeke began pumping his legs as fast as possible – that the two would be very close in a few minutes, and he'd have a matter of seconds to make the jump. A fluttering sound by his ear told him the Flicky was having little difficulty keeping up with him... definitely something to remedy. More running, more proteins and energy supplements and he'd be the fastest thing since Gramps.

From the bottom, Gimmick Mountain looked mysterious, looming and, above all, intimidating: considering it was a former Badnik factory for ol' Eggman this wasn't much of a surprise. But for years now it was simply a mechanical tower devoid of traps and renegade robots: in fact, the only hazards left were the spikes that jutted out along parts of the tower. They left a visible path up to the summit, where Angel Mountain was closing in. Zeke had traversed this path at least one hundred times in his life – possibly over nine thousand times.

The Flicky had a head start, flying straight upwards over the spiked walls as Zeke zigzagged around them, darting from sunlight to shadow and back again. The island would soon blot out the sun from Gimmick Mountain entirely – that would be his chance. He leaped over the last wall and stood at the peak of the metal tower. The Flicky perched once again on his head as he waited. He could see the top of Angel Island now: the river from which the falls cascaded over the side to the Green Hills below; the jungle with the hidden chamber that, once upon a time, contained seven super-large and super-powerful Chaos Emeralds; and the mountain, at the foot of which his home and his parents awaited his return.

Here it comes -
He backed up a few steps.
3...
Kneeled on the ground.
2...
Lifted his back leg.
1...
Pushed off and began running towards the edge.
Now!!
And launched himself at the floating greenery that was now only mere feet in front of him.

For the first few seconds it seemed as if he would fall several miles to the ground below. The Flicky, having left Zeke's head when he began his run-up, chirped anxiously as the hedgehog seemed to drift on the air for a split second, and then began to drop. Just in time, the island, still moving, provided an elongated platform that caught him neatly. He climbed to his feet, sighed in relief and turned around to look at the scenery below. Green Hills Zone was now just a small tropical blob in the midst of rocky plains.

The Flicky squawked, clearly to get Zeke's attention, before turning and gliding down, back towards the green blob where its nest must have been.
“I guess this is where we part ways, little bro,” Zeke said, flicking it the peace sign. “Take care.”
He turned back towards the mountain of Angel Island and began to stretch his legs. Eighteen minutes, thirty-six seconds, he thought. Time to break Dad's record.


Rose Cottage
3:42 pm

Twenty-two minutes, fourteen seconds, Zeke recorded mentally as he skidded to a halt outside a small wooden house with pink roses adorning the door. Beat my own record, at least.
“Yo,” he called. “You guys in here?” He didn't have to wait long for an answer: the voice of a clearly ecstatic woman called “Ezekiel!”
“Hey, Mom,” he smiled as a green porcupine in an apron ran in from the kitchen, nowhere near Zeke's running speed, and threw her arms around him.
“It's so good to see you, Zeke! How long has it been?”
“About three months,” another voice said as a taller blue hedgehog stepped into the room. “What have you been doing with yourself, son?”
Zeke shrugged. “Checked out a few places around the planet, helped out a couple of people. Y'know, deliveries and crud. Then I ran into Shadow at Station Square, so he spent a little time demonstrating Chaos Control and stuff.”
“You've been having a good time, then,” his mother said. “My little hero.”
“Little is a bit much, Jade,” chuckled Zeke's father, “he is taller than you.”

* * *

“Manik,” Zeke heard his mother call, “are you going to tell Zeke about the letter he received yesterday?”
“Oh yes!” Zeke's father exclaimed, climbing to his feet. “Zeke, you received a letter yesterday.”
“So I've heard,” Zeke smirked. “Anything more specific?” His answer was handed to him in a brown envelope.
“You know what's in here, huh?” he said, stifling a laugh as he saw the broken seal. Manik nodded, though Jade's voice carried in from the kitchen an indignant “No!”

Welcome to the Academy for Heroes-in-Training.
“The Academy for Heroes-in-Training?” Zeke read out loud in confusion. He read the first paragraph; it was mostly some fluff about learning, becoming a hero, villain children taking extra classes... Zeke yawned, but quickly stifled it and held the paper much closer when he reached the second half.
Indoor swimming pool? Game room? Target practice? Fed three times a day?
“Wow, nice!” Zeke exclaimed with renewed enthusiasm. Manik grinned.
“Hey...” Zeke looked up at his father. “What's this about an agent? Who delivered the letter?”
“An old friend,” Manik replied, clearly trying to be mysterious.
“Ok...” Zeke reread the letter. “So I'm invited to this place where they'll teach me to be a hero?”
“Looks that way.”
Zeke looked up.
“What do you say?” Manik asked with a hint of a smile. Zeke nodded.
“I'm in.”
“I'm glad to hear that,” a fourth voice said from behind Zeke, who spun around. There, on the balcony, stood Shadow the Hedgehog.


Outside Rose Cottage
1:44 pm (the next day)

“Have you got everything?” Shadow asked.
“I guess,” Zeke responded, indicating his backpack.
“That's it?”
“I don't need much. Just a change of socks and a couple games.”

Jade's eyes were brimming with tears.
“My boy only came back to us yesterday,” she sobbed, “and now he's off on a new adventure...” Manik put an arm around his wife.
“I'll be all right,” she continued, pulling herself together. “You were never content to stay at home, Zeke... This is really what you were born to do.”
Zeke smiled and gave his parents a quick hug before he turned back to Shadow. “So how's this work? Do we get to ride in a cool airship or a limo or something?”
“No such luck,” Shadow said, one eyebrow raised. He reached into a pack of his own and pulled out a glimmering blue gem. Zeke gaped.
“Is that -”
“A Chaos Emerald,” Shadow said. “Our ticket to wherever I choose.” Without even a pause to breathe, he took Zeke's arm and shouted, “Chaos Control!”


A. Jagged Lake
1:47 pm

A luminous green flash blinded Zeke for a second. When his eyes had readjusted he saw that he and Shadow had relocated to somewhere that was completely unfamiliar to Zeke. An expanse of lake reached out to the horizon in front of them, towards a range of tall brown mountains. In the distance a waterfall crashed down into a river, which Zeke could see led into the lake.
Behind them was another story altogether. Four buildings sat clumped together; two identical from the outside, the only visible difference being that one had a red roof while the other's top was blue; one tall one whose doors were open, through which Zeke could see tables set up; and one more, shorter and squatter than the open one, and from the looks of it the main facility.
“This is the Academy,” Shadow said. “Any questions?”
“Just one. You work here?”
“Not officially. I've been to this world before on G.U.N.'s orders. They recognised me as a Mobian and told me you'd been selected for training, so I offered my services to get you here – should you choose to accept.”
Shadow looked down at the gem in his hand. It flickered brightly for a moment, then faded.
“What was that?”
“Just extracting enough energy to get back to Mobius,” Shadow replied as he tossed the Emerald to Zeke.
“You're giving it to me?”
“It's yours. Sonic had it last... but after the last fight with the doctor, both of them, and the other six Emeralds... well, none of us know what exactly happened.”
Zeke nodded. This was a familiar story to him.
“Anyway. Keep it safe.”
And with another brilliant green flash, Shadow was gone.

“Let's start with the introductions, shall we?”
Oh crap, Zeke thought, and sidled across to the nearest people: both white-haired teenage girls; one light-skinned and sporting an enormous sword on her back, the other with much darker skin and no visible weapons.
“Psst,” he hissed. “Have I missed anything important?”

(Word Count: 1638)

Academy for Heroes in Training, Parking Lot| 12:30pm

Emmet twitched in the back of the car, and for once it wasn’t from his powers. It had been the day Emmett was waiting for the day where he got a chance for redemption, a chance to be a hero. The Academy for Heroes-In-Training. The Hero part didn’t bother him; he knew if he trained enough he could get there. It wasn’t the training part, he did a lot of speed training when he could. It wasn’t the The or the In, those were fine. It was the Academy, the school part of it. His social awkwardness was bothering him, he knew he would be getting grouped up, living with other kids, and having to deal with them.

Before he could run away, if he failed he could move on, and he always had to. Based on his track record this would be a train wreck, or in his case an explosive electrical discharge. Emmett took a deep breath, closed his eyes and began to breath. ‘There is no need to worry’ he told himself. “1) Hey, this time you get a second chance, you screw up you can just try again. 2) Eventually this…tweaky-hyper-twitchyness will go away, just let time pass and 3) you’re here to train, so if you don’t have too many friends it doesn’t really matter. You can do this, right?” Wrong. Emmett failed at calming himself, twitching again from his nerves. He panted heavily, and began to ruffle his hair in stress.

The car came to a stop, the door opening automatically. “You have arrived, Mr. Allen,” The driver stepped out and grabbed Emmett’s bags. Emmett gulped, being around him was just as bad, after his ‘recruitment’ he wasn’t to found of the agent. In his stomach there was a squirm, as Bolt woke up; the reptile squirmed out and into his pocket, making a strange yelp of joy. With one more breath Emmett started toward the building.

Whales, United Kingdom, The Pier| 10:54am
The boat rocked itself into the port, the waves bringing it in slowly. Below deck Emmett flipped through an old Playboy, one hand blocked by the covers. Passing time on the sea was hard; there was no wireless, and a lack of useable electricity, so he mostly kept to reading and ‘reading.’ They rarely landed at ports, so most of his time was alone, him and his nanny had nothing in common, and even less to talk about. So whenever they docked Emmett loaded up on books.

“Emmett, are you ready? We’ve docked, so we have about an hour,” Kimberly called from above.

“One second!” Emmett yelled back, scurrying to finish his business.

“Emmett, if you want to get some books, then let go of your dick and hurry up!”

Blushing furiously Emmett did let go, and in a second was changed and ready to go. “I don’t think America heard you that time, you’ve lost your touch.”

The two of them jumped off the ship, a crew ran over to tend for it, they had called in, and the two of them hurried into town. “Now, I have the list here, we’ll get what we need and then meet up at the Bookstore, the addresses are all down- oh you know the drill.”

Emmett nodded and grabbed his list, taking off in a flash. First thing was first, he needed candy, lots of candy. The worst part about the sea was not the boredom, but the sleep inducing boredom, sleeping all day and night was not good, he needed to stay awake, even if it meant never sleeping. He also hopped they had Monster, he needed his fix.

He searched his map for Kimberly’s loli-pop sticker; she used the grisliest key, and sped up. The winds burst around him, causing mild chaos in the streets, he hated it, but he smiled a bit. The look on someone face as a trashcan suddenly vomits on them is priceless.

As soon as he reached the store he was met with a mob of pre-teens. “Great, school lets out as soon as we get here.” Emmett checked his watch and sighed, he would come back at the end. He canned the map, trying to hide the childish fairies, smiling burgers and other ridiculous things. Emmett could sweat Kimberly wanted him to be embarrassed. Next he had to pick up some batteries, big and small, so he followed the map through the city-mze, right to the smiling hammer that marked the spot.

Academy for Heroes in Training, Reception Desk| 12:55pm
“Hello, Mr. Allen,” The ancient lady behind the desk smiled. ‘Great,” Emmett thought. ‘This will be awhile.’ He twitched once more, and a spark erupted from his finger tips. “Emmett, is that with one T or two Ts?”

“Two,” he replied, and then took a preemptive strike. “And it’s Allen with an E.” She smiled again, and then to creep towards the keyboard. A flurry of taps came at once, and she handed him a sheet. “There you go honey.”

Emmett starred for a moment, but creped away. “Coronet Residence….” Emmett said aloud. “Crown Suite?” he asked himself. That would be cool, he thought. But then he looked to the right of it, “Roommate” Emmett took another gulp and moved his eyes over.

Whales, United Kingdom, Barns & Noble| 11:33am
Emmett collapsed onto the bench, taking long breaths. His errands were done, so until Kimberly came he had some down time. It wasn’t even the running around, and lugging around all the crap. It was plain trying to understand the nuts in the place. Their accents were like intentionally confusing, within twenty minutes his voice was sore, and his head was throbbing from all the yelling.

He allowed his eyes to close, using the food as a pillow. Holding onto the bags tightly he dozed off, some needed rest. His dream was brief, he was running, he felt a sense of danger, as if he was being watched, and he awoke instantly. Over him was the bronzed face of his nanny, her curls bobbing in the sea breezes. She was nudging him awake.

“I got it,” Emmett yawned, grabbing Kimberly’s few bags. She didn’t have as much to do; she didn’t have the speed for it. His arms full, he took a fast sprint towards the pier, only a short five seconds, and jumped into the boat. He considered just staying on the boat, falling asleep. He could re-read a bit, he had been planning on it. His bed just called for him, like a spell.

Emmett rubbed his eyes, no sleep could wait. He quickly slapped himself, a small shock erupted, and he was awake. Now back to normal, albeit still, a twitchy mess, he walked over to the stars, he would have to walk off the pier, too many people around.

“Excuse me, Mr. Allen.” Emmett felt his body get cold, fear instantly came over him. Allen, his real last name, no one knew it. Even Kimberly thought his last name was Harper. If someone knew his real name, and was some how able to find him. Emmett didn’t dare think it. Slowly he turned his head.

The man behind him looked innocent enough, if not for what he just said Emmett never would have noticed him, he had a feel that he could just blend into the background, it was eerie. “Screw it,” Emmett thought. He was gone in an instant.

Academy For Heroes in Training| Elevators| 1:25pm
‘Roommate,” Emmett read. He knew he would have a roommate, hopefully his name might help. He was wrong. “Zeke the hedgehog.” Emmett’s jaw literally dropped, a pure expression of confusion plastered on his face. The hedgehog? There were animals at this school? Emmett wasn’t sure to be glad, or sad, or just plain dazed.

He put this out of mind, and went to the elevator. At first he just starred at the side. Where were the buttons? All there was was a small little hole, that didn’t help much. He searched it some more, and again checking the same spots ten times. At one point he tried putting a hair in there, then his eye, any of those Spy-movie tricks. Nothing.

He sighed and walked outside. He was going to walk back to the desk when he saw the receptionist sprinting towards him. For an old lady she could run like an Olympic track star. “I am so sorry Mr. Allen; I forgot to give you your keycard. And by the way, after you get to your room you should go to the lake for orientation.” She gave a pleasant smile and took off again. Emmett wasn’t sure he would adjust to this school.

With the key card he reentered the elevator and punched it into the elevator. There was a lurch and the box blasted upwards. Dizzy, Emmett stumbled into the room. He was taken aback by the room. Crown Suite did not begin to describe the room.

The room was empty, but Emmett clearly saw a door marked “Bedroom.” Even without much to see, the room was architecturally brilliant. The floor was a shining, glimmering marble, so perfect he could even see the ash in his hair. Around the room were brilliant, magnificent pillars, on the bases decorated with pictures of chariots racing. In the center of the room there was a large, circularly, area, the floor was tiled to show a godly face, small yellow tiles making it seem to glow. Underneath it was “Hermes” Spelled out in bright blue tiles.

On the far side was a pure glass screen, leading out to a balcony. Even that was made brilliantly, with the ceiling showing a brilliant battle of the gods. Three figures standing tall over a defeated titan.

He took it all in. He had always like the Greeks, they mythology was brilliant, and their architecture breath taking. He opened the first door; the bedroom was shaped like an ancient temple, the beds below statues of Zeus and Hera. The rest of the room had the other Olympians, all of them facing the center. It was both creepy and wonderful.

Even the beds were shaped to look like drawn out thrones. Emmett collapsed onto the left one, the mattress wrapping around him. His body felt like rubber. F he hadn’t been drinking Monster all day he would have passed out right then and there.

“I think I’ll like it here.”

Whales, Unite Kingdom| 11:43am

“Fuck, just plain fucking fuck fuck!” Emmett paced up and down the ally. He was swearing like a sailor during a tsunami on a Saturday is September who was taking a shit. His body was twitching like never before, he could feel his rubber soles heating up as his body shook. To the normal eye he looked still, but his body was just moving too fast. He took a look at his watch, Kimberly would of given up and gone to look for me now, she would go to the boat. To the guy. Emmett could only hope the mystery man had gone after him, as weird as it sounds.

Bolt began to squirm, popping out from his side. The lizard smiled, ignorant of the situation. He took a spot on top of Emmet’s head, gnawing on his nerve induced, electrically charged, hair. He began to swear again, he had to go back and see. He had to dive into the snake filled plane.


Emmett took off, he could feel his body running low, but he had to keep moving. Pumped with adrenaline he was unable to feel his power draining, he just kept going. He slid through the streets, the fresh puddles of a London rain splattered at every inch. Every now and then he would come into sight, as he slammed into a wall. With a final hurdle he jumped into the bookstore, Kimberly was waiting in the front, eying her watch.

“Emmett, what took so long?” Kimberly pushed a bag to him. “Hurry up, we have ten minutes.”

“Qiwanudtamoorino,” Emmett was pumping out words too quick to understand, the sound waves clumping together, making a jumble of gibberish to Kimberly. She automatically saw his panic and grabbed his shoulder. See there is a reason Kimberly was hired as a Nanny, why she could be trusted with his powerful secret (no pun intended). She looked at Emmett and whispered soft words.

Emmett’s muscles relaxed, his pulse dropped, the adrenaline disappeared, even Bolt relaxed inside of him. With one big gulp of air Emmett started again. “We need to move, a man found us. He was at the dock, he found us.” Kimberly nodded, she knew what they had to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emmett saw the man, still there, waiting. They had a plan for it, it was simple enough, but Emmett still felt like his heart wanted to tear a hole in his chest. He saw Kimberly jump onto the boat across theirs and he took off. He blasted towards the man like a cannon, quickly circling to grab his attention. He just stood there, though.

Emmett kept circling, trying to get his attention, and finally he reacted. The man disappeared for an instant; Emmett couldn’t react before ramming into him. Dazed Emmett backed away, running down the pier, the mystery man somehow appearing in front of him every time Emmett blinked.

“Time to kick it into high gear, Emmett mumbled. Bolt dove back into Emmett, and sent a high jolt through the speedster. He felt his body ache, but the speed was picking up, so Emmett ignored it. Even with the boost the mystery man kept his creepy-teleport thing, but he never made a move. It was as if he was waiting for something.

Emmett had gotten about nine blocks when finally it all stopped. He slip to a stop, panting. His body was aching, and he could feel the electricity bubbling up inside him. His head began to pound, and finally he collapsed. The pain was overwhelming. Emmett prayed something he had not done since he ran away, that it would end. He prayed for all of this to end. And it did.


“Stop already, you idiot,” the man brought a hand to his temple and Emmett felt his body freeze. The pain never left, but it felt worse in this state. Emmett could move, but everything was in slow-motion, the pain dragging out into a dull feeling, as if he was being bludgeoned by a bat. The mystery man across from him smirked. “Now that I have your attention, you are about to feel like a fool.”

The man grabbed an envelope from his back pocket, tearing it open for Emmett. In large, bold font it said “Academy for Heroes in Training.” He kept reading. “Dear Mr. Allen, we invite you to join the Academy, where you will, as the name suggests, learn to be a hero. An associate will be sent to explain in further detail, or has already delivered this. The rest will be up to him.”

If he could, Emmett would have slapped himself.

His electricity finally hitting the surface, making an explosive discharge, and a scream of relief and agony would have to do.

Academy For Heroes in Training- 2:00pm

Emmett busted into the crowd, at full speed. Sadly, the mud around the lake made it impossible for him to properly stop. He could see a few glares, but for the most part people didn’t acknowledge it. He found it weird, but didn’t question it. If his oh-so bad first impression was ignored he was more than fine with it.
The teacher, or dean or whatever, started talking about introductions, and how they would all need to do this. He wasn’t really paying attention to it, he was mostly scanning the crowd, trying to get a read off some of them. He also wanted to see if he could find his roommate, which was not a hard task. It took him all of two seconds to find the bright-blue ball of fur two yards from him. He was about to go introduce himself when he was drawn out of his deaf-state.

“I repeat, will a Mr. Allen, please come to the stage. Emmett Allen.” Oh crap. Of course he was first, stupid first letter name.

Emmett nervously walked to the stage, but after he felt the beading eyes of a few on his back he sprinted up. What was he supposed to say? He twitched, five times in a row, and smelt smoke rise from below him. He took a breath and began. No words came out, or at least no audible sounds. Instead a thick blast of sound, making a high pitched, ear splitting screech from the microphone. All of his words had erupted at once` in a massive cluster. His eyes began to sting as sweat leaked into his pupils. The dean tapped his shoulder, and Emmett took a deep breath.

“Sorry, I’m just really nervous. Well, my name is Emmet, Emmett Allen, I’m a descendent of two of the ‘famous’” Emmett really did use air quotes. “Flashes. My father, though, isn’t really up there with him, I guess he could be a villain; well he is a criminal, why am I saying this? No clue, but I’m not a villain, so I won’t be killing you. Ha-ha.” Sweat stung his eyes again. “Um, my mom is Elle Bishop; I never met her, though. I have no idea what she looks like, where she is, or any of that. So, um, yeah. Yeah.” There were a few second of dead air, Emmett tried to say something, but he was too busy trying not to shake. Finally he figured there was no need to be up there. Emmett was gone in a blink of the eye, dashing behind the stage, cursing to himself.

There was one good thing, though; he didn’t make it hard to beat his speech. Emmett took another breath and ran back to his room, he needed some time to calm down. Plus he was in no rush to show his face right now.

Leander vi Britannia | 2:03 PM | A. Jagged Lake

The boy stumbled all over his words, swallowing some and tripping over others. A surge of sympathy, a surge of amusement. Would the world find him guilty of being cruel for amusing himself with others’ struggles? Never.

A faint smile graced his lips at the prospect of being able to introduce himself, for once. For years, courtiers robbed him of the opportunity to say his name, and meet people as other children met their peers. The owl on his shoulder bounced, as if excited for his owner. Lee laughed and met the gazes the owl attracted with a friendly smile before taking the owl off his shoulder and cupping it in his palms instead, his fingers glossing over the smooth gray feathers of his pet. He shifted in his seat, crossing his legs, eyes still locked onto the speakers onstage.

Perhaps this experience in the academy could serve as a lesson. Prince Schneizel would never allow an opportunity to learn to slip past; why should he? Lee relaxed and eased into his seat, unperturbed by the upcoming speech he’d have to give. It wouldn’t be long until his name was called either, so all he had to do was wait, let the seconds slip past his fingers.

How many letters were between A and B? None.

The principal’s laugh rang through the air, high-pitched and tinny. He scratched the back of his head as the person he called refused to come up. Or perhaps hadn’t shown up. Who knew? The prince’s eyes flicked from left to right. No one cared for these introductions anyway. Most people chatted amongst themselves. Not a distraction he couldn’t overcome. He’d captured people’s attention during harder times, like say a war happening in the next region. Granted, that wasn’t easy, but it had been what earned him the respect of his father, and officially marked him out as competition for the throne.

“So, it seems as if she hasn’t arrived yet.” He ran a finger around the collar of his shirt, as if attempting to loosen it. Leander’s expression twitched in disapproval, and his grip on D tightened. The principal of the school was supposed to be a leader. Lee had expected someone more like his brother, Schneizel, if not someone like Charles himself.

This Dominic Kent proved himself a disappointment. No matter. Perhaps it was first day jitters. Some people had that, didn’t they? Ideally, leaders shouldn’t, but everyone had their faults. Lee only wished the principal didn’t make it so obvious.

“Let’s move on to the next, shall we?” The principal waved the cards in his hand. Prompts. How pathetic. The public saw no prompts, only insincerity. The best speeches were known by the heart; each word, each comma, each period counted. Then, even if one was nervous, the words would still spill from one’s lips.

But who was he to start criticizing everyone and everything under the sun? He provided the speaker the polite attention the man so desperately and obviously wanted.


“Would an Ephraim vi Britannia come onstage?”

And bang - Lee’s breath caught in his throat, held there by some miserable, inhuman grip. Daedalus squeaked in pain as fingers clenched around him, digging into his feathers and perhaps even the soft skin beneath them. Could he have heard right? Ephraim, not Leander? Perhaps it was some sort of mistake; maybe Leander had never been invited to the Academy, and Ephraim had been the one chosen, yet again. Just like when they were kids. Ephraim had gotten chosen again, and Leander had only arrived by some mistake.

Or perhaps, perhaps the school had mistaken them for one person, or perhaps his father had delivered him to this place specifically because Ephraim was the one invited, and not him. As a shot to his ego. He blanched, pale skin starkly conflicting against the warm colors of his surroundings.

Or maybe he’s here too…His mistake murdered an entire platoon, did it not?

That one thought terrified him more than anything else, and the owl in his hands finally cried out in pain. He snapped out of his reverie and raised his gaze as a familiar face stepped up to the microphone. Lo and behold, the face he saw everyday in the mirror, in the bath, in the sparkling surface of the sea – it stared right into the crowd with bright green eyes. The build he recognized as his own stood contorted, mutated almost, the posture so straight it appeared stiff, and clothed in a horrendous military uniform.

Behold, ladies and gentlemen. Ephraim vi Britannia, third prince of Britannia and twin brother to Leander vi Britannia. He could hear the soldiers announcing his brother’s entrance, hear them hailing him as the third prince, as if Leander did not exist, hear the screaming of the drums and the parade hailing his brother as a hero.

Ephraim vi Britannia, wielding the Power of Kings, stood, poised to steal the throne from Leander’s grasp, as the final act of betrayal in a long line of many. This humiliation? It was nothing but a small scratch on the shattered surface of their relationship.

Leander let go of the owl suddenly, and it flew into the air with a soft squawk. Eyes around Leander never left him; his brother did not have the same presence he did. A few whispers about the existence of twins in the Academy. A forced smile from the prince of the masses.

And he slipped out, noticed by many, but seemingly ignored by his own clone. Not that Leander had expected his brother to do any less, or any more. He caught the principal’s eye, and the bespectacled man tilted his head slightly to the side, as if wondering why Leander was leaving during his twin’s speech.

Then that means…Father sent us both here on purpose. We’d both gotten an invitation. A sardonic smile appeared as bitterness threatened to bubble out. He alerted the principal to his departure, lest the man call out Leander’s name for ghosts to respond to.

Charles knew about how Leander felt towards Ephraim, and how the feeling was mutual. Hell, the whole court knew. But some monsters, all they wanted was to see their children murder each other. His shaky legs provided little support, and soon Leander found himself leaning against a tree, his breathing heavy, and his mind buzzing. Fear manifested itself as nausea, and he sank to the grass, closed his eyes and attempted to steady himself.

What was that his doctor told him to do? Breathe in breathe out breathe in –


And I was so….selfish….






Fireworks, firing, singing, dancing, playing in the air. The boy with the blue eye awoke with a start, breathing heavy and blanket clutched close to his chest. Screaming, plenty of it, overwhelmed his ears, and he clamped his hands over them in an effort to get rid of the sound.

Fireworks, this early in the afternoon, this late in the year. It was unusually loud too. Leander grit his teeth and curled up into a ball, unhappy. Then, a light dawned in the boy’s eyes.

Ephy was afraid of fireworks, he was. Mom had to hold him, pull him into a tight embrace every time New Year’s rolled around. But this year, and last year, yes, this year and last year Lee had to hold his hand because Mom wasn’t around.

Because Mom wasn’t coming back, and though Lee always told Ephy she’d return one day, he knew in his heart Mom had left them for good.

Groggily, he dragged himself out of bed, pulling his blanket along and letting it trail behind him. Yawned and rubbed his knuckles against his blue eye before padding away from his bed with a self-important stride, ready to head for Ephy’s room.

Maybe Ephy hadn’t woken up – the other prince slept soundly through almost everything. Hopefully, Ephy hadn’t woken up and Lee would be able to watch the fireworks outside, enjoy it with the servants. And even if Ephy had woken up, Lee didn’t mind. Maybe they could play Final Fantasy. Or Monopoly. Or chess. Chess was always good.

The moment he stepped outside, however, his blood ran cold. Knights in front of him smiled, even with their ketchup-stained armors. Lee froze, clutched his blanket a little tighter. He’d seen them when their first house burnt down too. His breathing quickened. In out in out in out in out in out in –

“Don’t worry, darling. We’re just taking you to your father,” murmured the lady, reaching out to take him. Lee shrank from her, eyes wide at the bright flashes behind her.

“Ephy,” Lee breathed. Servants downstairs gazed up at him, chewing their lips nervously. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“We’ll take you to your dad and it’ll all be –“

“No.” His voice cracked.

“Why not? Your father has a nice palace –“

“No, I don’t want to go.” Lee tried to keep calm and headed past the two knights towards his brother’s room down the hall, still barefoot.

“You tried talking to him; now let’s try it my way.” And strong arms picked Leander by the waist. A resounding shriek echoed through the house, and perhaps somewhere, a god regretted blessing a child with such a strange talent.

LET ME GO HELP ME DON’T LET THEM TAKE ME I WANT TO STAY FATHER IS SCARY I DON’T LIKE FATHER LET ME STAY LET ME STAY I WANT TO SEE THE FIREWORKS I WANT TO SEE EPHY I DON’T WANT TO GO WITH YOU

Hell stumbled up the stairs and the lady knight fired at the crowd, surprise disappearing after the first reflexive shot. “What the –“

In the midst of it all, the loudest sound was a door creaking open, and a soft voice saying, “Why are you shouting?”






If I’d gone with you without a fight…would things still be the way they are?

No, he couldn’t do this. He gagged, ready to vomit, and strode away from the lake, maintaining his dignity to the last despite his quivering hands.

--
Leander vi Britannia | 2:23 PM | Coruscant Residence

Skin pale and still shaken, Leander gazed at his own reflection and, for the first time in a long time, took comfort in his blue eye. He’d been eight years old the last time he looked at himself in the mirror without contacts on; his blue eye was an imperfection, a blemish to be destroyed. But when he was seven, when he was eight…his blue eye was an anchor. A reminder from any supernatural deity that may have existed: Leander vi Britannia was, at his very core, different from Ephraim vi Britannnia.

Drip, drip, drip. Droplets of water ticked down to the sink, steady and unforgiving. He’d washed his face, and hadn’t toweled it dry yet.

The smooth zip of the door opening caught his attention, and he tore his gaze away from the mirror. He stepped out of the bathroom tentatively, then out of his room. His roommate – or rather, fellow resident – stood crouched over a suitcase, as if searching for something. In front of the other teen, the clear glass wall offered a magnificent view of Luminescent City…and betrayed Leander’s roommate for who he was.

Startled, he retreated into the safety of his room, landing on the carpet with a barely inaudible thud. Shit. Ephraim was a trained soldier, and Lee didn’t doubt Ephraim heard him. He tensed, waiting for his brother to come in, and maybe fall backwards in shock. Or had Ephraim been warned ahead of time? Lee couldn’t tell. Even if he hadn’t, he’d surely know Lee was around by now. Daedalus was outside, and surely Ephraim recognized the bird?

The footsteps paused. A soft chuckle. “Heh. What kind of stupid owl are you? So small. Kinda useless, actually.”

Footsteps faded as the snicker did, and Lee heard the distinct sound of the elevator opening and dinging.

And Leander couldn’t place it, but an odd feeling of disappointment settled inside of him instead of relief. He stayed hidden in his room for a few more hours, then finally emerged, better, once more composed and self-assured, and both eyes green once more.

He left the dormitory and headed towards the lake, away from the loud festivities in the recreation hall. He hadn’t quite figured out what he’d say to Ephraim yet should he meet his twin, and perhaps some peace would help him figure it out.

The charming prince at a loss for words. How ironic.

A dark-haired girl with familiar blue eyes stood there, dressed in a dark color he couldn’t discern in the dim moonlight. The sun had set a quarter of an hour ago, but the leaves marked by autumn stayed vivid as ever. She turned to him, and her eyes almost appeared glassy in their serenity.

Then, she turned back to the lake. And he stayed beside her quiet, knowing his presence wouldn’t shake her, no matter what. Familiarity was what he brought, always. He’d never worried about awkwardness.

She shattered the comfortable silence first. “Do you think there’s anything fantastic in the lake?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

She continued to stare at it for a few moments. “You know. Creatures aside from fishes. Not that they’re not incredible but…” Her voice was quiet as the wind.

A pause. “Perhaps.” Such a strange question. He stared into the surface of the lake.

And another comfortable silence blanketed them after that.

Alex Nolvai | Chbosky Ward | 9 Jan, (-4 years) 10:42 AM

Alex remembered the sky falling.

She heard a hollow clink before the torrent fell. The little girl held onto her naked shoulders as boiling water blanched her skin. She trembled and dropped her head, shielding her face with dark brown hair. The steam rose from the floor and Alex cried until her voice was as quiet as mist.

The chaplain in front of which she sat gave her a kind smile. “It’s like scalding your sins away,” he soothed, placing his folded hands on a worn bible. “Anything we can do here to better your view of the world,” and he widened his smile, “we will do.”

Alex watched the rain fall outside the window--the subtle, dappled play of light and shadow--and gazed beyond the chaplain and his bible. “Does it rain often here?” she asked, pondering to herself.

12:47 PM

“I’ll be your caretaker.” A young woman placed a stack of colorless sheets on Alex’s bed and gave her a kind smile. Alex put the sheets in her hands and folded them in and out, as though looking for something precious.

“There are no colors here,” Alex hummed, placing the sheets back down carefully. “This place will hardly seem happy if there are no colors.”

The orderly placed her hands on her hips and gave the sheets a short once-over, pursing her lips. “I suppose you’re right.” Her dark eyes met Alex’s. “Would you like for this place to seem happy?”

Not paying attention, Alex nodded, touching the sheets again. “I think that it would be the only happiness I have right now.”

The nurse gave her a fragile smile and picked up the sheets, folding them into her arms. “We’ll make it our first project, then.”

Alex lifted deep blue eyes to the nurse and released a reassuring sigh. “Creating joy.” She peered down at the woman’s name tag. Donna. “That sounds wonderful.”


Alex Nolvai | A. Jagged Lake | 9 Oct, 6:57 PM

“I wish my name was beautiful,” Alex hummed into the twilight. “I wish that I could waltz on the water and tango with the fish.” She smiled and laid with her back against the wooden dock, stroking a finger across the fading sky. A light, airy giggle left her lips and she took in a deep breath of fresh air that smelled of evening dew and fresh grass. Her arms stretched out and she tapped her knuckles on the wood of the dock beneath her, keeping rhythm with far-off crickets. “And I like you, Dock A.” She turned her head, pressing a cheek against the hard grain. “If we were in science class together, we would be partners!” She giggled and sprung to her feet, spinning like a ballerina on her new friend.

As she ended her big number, Alex gracefully sat in the shoreline grass, gazing into the deep waters with astonishment. “You are beautiful, Lake.” The tiny girl leaned up to her knees and peered down into her reflection, making a silly face as if trying to make the water laugh. Far away, a fish perched and splashed on the surface, so Alex giggled in reply. “I think that, if I ever had to name my favorite place in the world, Lake, I’d say your name.” She sat back down on her calves and let her eyes wander across the surreal images on the water. The perfect blues and purples were blended as if painted by hand. And the fading gold near the edges told her a thousand stories from its lifetime. It was as if Kara had come to the Academy just for Alex with her big art kit. Like the two were sitting together and Kara had painted Alex a picture, just like she used to...

Alex brought up a sleeve to her eyes to dry up her tears. “There, there. No use for those.” The girl smiled to herself longingly and gazed back over Lake and nodded. “You’re just as pretty as she said you were.” Alex smiled very softly and leaned forward again, tracing a finger across the sky’s reflection to write her name. “There. That’s my name, Lake. Do you have a good memory?” She looked up and awaited a response with eager eyes. When the Lake didn’t reply, she pretended to pout and patted the water softly. “That’s fine. You’re probably sleepy after such a busy day with everyone.” She plucked a daisy from the grass beside her and set it adrift on the still waters. With a whisper, she said, “Goodnight,” and stood up. As she walked, she sang simple songs to herself and watched the sky for the first stars of the night.

She thought of Kara again and made another spin in a patch of daisies before gliding down to her back; her dress flared out behind her until she stopped, calm and still in the flowers.

Her empty eyes peered into the sky, into the woven blanket over the grass and Lake and flowers. Alex’s eyelids closed and she imagined flying over this brave new world of hers. She imagined diving from the golden clouds into the living waters below and feeling as one with the creatures all around her, with nature and with the spirits...and as she opened her eyes, she rose above herself, dancing on the leaves in the air. She breathed in a new air, a new freshness as she watched herself below sleeping soundly. I wonder how this could be, she said aloud, and her voice echoed around her head. Her spirit felt warm, then, and she began to feel tired, as if she had danced for days on the breeze. And so she laid down in her body, suddenly feeling confined again to her own self, apart from the wind and the water and the sunlight.

When Alex opened her eyes, she peered up into the sunlight she had felt just seconds ago. Sleepily, she reached a finger up and imagined herself smearing finger paints over the sun to give it rest. “Dying sun,” she hummed, “you should rest now.” The girl laid her hand on her chest and breathed out the colors of nighttime, feeling alive in the new moon’s arms. “We are safe until morning, dying sun.”


Alex Nolvai | Chbosky Ward | 4 April, 3:19 PM

“It’s as simple as moving your fingers,” Kara said. Slowly, she guided Alex’s pointer finger across the canvas, slurring vibrant pinks and reds onto the surface. The blond girl nodded slowly as Alex spread the colors, creating her first liberation. “And just like that, you’re creating your own world.”

“It’s like I’m a goddess,” Alex murmured.

“Yes,” Kara agreed, “Like a goddess.”


Alex Nolvai | Jagged Lake | 9 Oct, 7:29 PM

Delicately, Alex pulled at the pedals of a Daisy. “I’m a heroin.” Pluck. “I’m a damsel in distress.” Pluck. “I’m an icon.” Pluck. “I’m a girl in need of rescue.” She held the flower up to her nose and sniffed before pulling the last pedal. “I’m ambivalent.”

Suddenly, Alex felt the weight of her new world around her. She suddenly understood the burden of becoming a heroin instead of just some poor girl with gifts. She just wished she understood where she belonged in that Brave New World of hers.

Slowly, she rose to her feet and stood alone by the sleeping waters. Just beyond her reach could be worlds of vast imagination and unthinkable adventures. If she could just step out onto the waters, she knew she would find the wonder of a story book, of her favorite fairy tale. But Alex wondered if she had the strength to endure the price of a happy ending.

Slowly, footsteps approached her in the leaves and just stopped. The moon’s breath eased down on the two there, together, and she could nearly feel his breath and his heartbeat, all from the connection of the moon. Alex wondered if he knew. If he would understand the vastness of the unthinkable. “Do you think there’s anything fantastic in the lake?”

For a moment, he ceased to exist. The stranger halted his breathing and missed a beat of Alex’s rhythm. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice just another leaf in the breeze.

But the waters consumed his arrhythmia and kept Alex from wondering more. She focused then on the stars in the water. “You know...creatures aside from fish.” There was another distant splash in the water. “Not that they’re not incredible but…” Alex brought her arms together to cross her chest, turning her head to view his face. He seemed like a part of the sky, of the hills and trees and the moon. And Alex smiled to herself in awe of the way everything was connected. She wondered if Kara had painted his face as well.

“Perhaps.” His arms were folded as well and he peered out into the lake, but Alex did not think he saw what she saw. He didn’t seem to see the possible instead of the definite.

“I do not know you,” she whispered, turning her vacant eyes to the lake. “I know your face and I can feel your humanity, but your name escapes me.”

“What?” he asked, seeming to intentionally keep his answers short.

Alex turned her head to the side so that he could see her left eye just barely. “I mean that you are here and you are breathing,” Alex turned completely around, spinning on her toes, “but you are a stranger to me.” She placed two fingers to her lips to feel warmth on her face. “It confuses me that I can feel as though I know you, though you are as unfamiliar to me as my own mind.”

“Your mind should be as familiar to you as anything in this world.” the boy dropped his hands to his side and slid them into his pockets, uncomfortable with Alex’s questions.

“But the world is so alien!” Alex spread her arms wide, staring ahead into the stranger’s eyes. “It’s so huge and unfamiliar and scary...” She pressed her lips together, averting her eyes from his own. “And we’re both parts of it. Tiny...tiny little lines on this great sketch of a reality...” She smiled, caught up in her own wonder. “And reality is just one color on the canvas...with all the fantastic things out there,” she mused, looking up at the stars. “All the alien things like my mind and your name...”

“You’re very odd,” the stranger noted, “but interesting.” He took a step forward towards the lake’s bank and made the sudden motion to nudge the water with his foot.

“Stop!” Alex tugged him back from the lake’s edge by his shirt tail, bringing him awkwardly near her. “The Lake is sleeping...”

The strange boy gave her an incredulous glance, but then stared back at the water. “Sleeping?”

Alex nodded and let go of his shirt, stepping around him to stand firmly in front of him, her hands folded together in front of her. “All things need rest in the world, stranger. You and I, we’d die without sleep. So we can’t ask the Earth or the water or the sun or gods to go without sleep,” she said. “That would be cruel.”

“Where do you get these ideas?”

“The Lake told me.”

“I never knew lakes could speak, really.” The stranger’s green eyes flashed in Alex’s vision and she skipped up to him, shaking her head.

“Everything speaks with color, stranger.” Alex nodded and took the boy by the hand, pulling him over onto Dock A. “See, the sky speaks very softly at night so not to wake up anyone sleeping below, so he speaks in blues and purples.” She smiled and knelt down on the edge of the dock, peering into their reflections. “And you, your eyes speak in an ambivalent green.” She looked away from the copy and into the two originals in front of her. “And so you either don’t know what you’re looking for, or you are trying to hide something.” She giggled and let go of his hand, placing both of her hands in her lap. “So what do you see in my eyes?”

The boy stared into her eyes for eternities to the stars. And finally, his thin, pale lips opened and his breath came out to speak to her. “I see a lost desperation.” He squinted a bit and Alex suddenly felt warmth inside her lungs and eyes. “And I see this childlike fascination with what can be...and not necessarily what i--”

Alex shirked back as a splash of water rocked the dock beneath them. She opened her shielded eyes and suddenly lost her friendly stranger. Shirking her eyes around, she searched for any sign of attacker. “H-hello?” she asked the darkness, but only got a bit of laughter from behind the bushes. Behind her, the water roiled and her stranger surfaced for breath. Alex got up and ran to his aid, offering a hand to help pull him from the water. After much straining, her poor dame in distress was free from the awakened water.

“Damned speedsters,” he quipped. Alex peered over her shoulder at the bushes before he began shaking his head dry. “Did you see who did that? Or where they are?” Alex turned back to him, wide-eyed and nervous and with every intention of denying for the sake of peace.

“N-n...” Her muscles suddenly relaxed and she tilted her head to the side, entranced by something curious in his eyes. “They’re in the bushes.” Alex stepped back a bit and just lulled as the stranger unbuttoned his shirt and removed it to wring it out.

“They’ll get theirs eventually, then.”

Alex slowly nodded, but looked away, into the waters. “We...We should get you back to the dorm...” She peered up at him and nodded, taking him by the hand. “You cannot be sick until I know your name.”

2354 Words.

Ephraim vi Britannia | 2:10PM | Jaglake
Well, Ephraim thought as the speedster fumbled his way on to the stage and his introductory speech before blinking out of sight with a burst of speed. Looks like I'm not the only one to fail at that sort of thing. He was still faintly puzzling over the apparent fame of the guy's parents--sure, the air quotes were a nice indicator not to take it too seriously, but was he supposed to know who those "Flashes" were? A look around yielded a couple other blank faces, which reassured him that he wasn't the only one out of the loop. At least one small good thing in this whole situation. Of all the places Father could have sent me... Better than exile, he supposed, though the difference between it and this were growing thinner by the minute.

How long since he had been around people other than soldiers and nobles? The lack of finery and uniforms as he cast his eyes over the tiny crowd was strangely foreign. It wasn't that he minded it, oh no, not when some part of him--the easily pleased, always opportunistic part--was already reveling at the thought of not having to worry about his image. What would it matter here, when there were such an odd assortment of people? Just that summary glance had confirmed he hadn't been hallucinating earlier and yes, that was some sort of... teal colored talking and walking animal over there. Ephraim blinked, then diplomatically decided to stop staring. For now.

Ooh, that was one nice-looking sword glinting just there. The girls weren't half bad either, he decided after a good look, and he'd just been about to stroll over and perhaps introduce himself, get their names and all, when he realized that it was his name they’d just called up to the podium. No one else between his name and the first, really? He rolled his eyes and changed directions mid-stride, until he’d joined the principal and his annoying laugh. A polite nod to the man and he turned to face the rest of the crowd, smiling down at them. He knew how to do this: it was part of being a prince.

“As you’ve all heard, I’m Ephraim vi Britannia, third prince of the Holy Britannian Empire.” Charming grin, hey there. Ladies, you watching? “I like weapons and winning. Also mechas.” A bit of strained silence choked the air. Fuck, he wasn’t Leander. What the hell were they expecting? He couldn’t just stay smiling here...even if it did earn him some rather appreciative stares from the ladies. He forced himself to not tug at his collar before speaking again, trying to relieve the pressure. "I'm an empath. No, I can't read your thoughts. Yes I can kick your ass." Cocky smile, threaded with enough roguish charm to take off the edge.

There, speech done. Granted, it wasn’t the best, but he didn’t think it mattered; most people weren’t paying all that much attention to what going on up front, really. He tugged at the collar of his uniform again, eyed the assembled, and decided that screw proper attire; no one was being all that formal anyway. Time to dispose of at least the constraining coat; he slipped away while the next person was being called up, undoing his cravat and removing his gloves on the way so that by the time the Coruscant residence’s shiny metallic doors slid open before him all he really had to do was to shuck the outer jacket off and unbutton that annoying vest to finally be able to breathe properly.

I wonder how the others can survive wearing this all day long. Had he ever seen Cornelia out of uniform? He struggled to recall, even as he absentmindedly folded the annoying vestments and stuffed them down in his suitcase, somewhere he wouldn’t have to see them again unless it was absolutely necessary. Cornelia--the only one of his half-siblings he’d ever felt more than a wary respect for. At least she knew how to fight, wasn’t one of those smiling liars the politics bred, like Schneizel or Leander.

He snorted at that last thought. Where was brother dearest right now? He hadn’t been there when Ephraim’d been demoted; strange when he was supposed to have been staying over in Pendragon at the time.

Bastard missed his chance to come and laugh at me. Why am I even surprised? He’s never where you’d expect him to be. Small mercies, he supposed, that he’d been spared at least that humiliation. Leander only ever paid attention to him when he was at his lowest, ever since that night twelve years ago.

Sometimes he laughed, on the rare moments where he thought about it. People tended to shirk away from that sort of laughter, the bitter, humorless one. He’d been so pathetic back then, incapable to protecting himself or anyone else.

“Why are you shouting?” So much noise outside, and the lights tearing through the curtains and across his face as he tried to sleep. Fireworks were too bright and loud, they burned at his eyes even as the flames and the colors called to him, and when they roared they always took him by surprise. Ephraim didn’t usually mind surprises, but that one he did.

And the voices outside he didn’t like either: he didn’t know them, and the way they broke in through the door to him was too ugly and harsh, screeching like nails on metal. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He couldn’t sleep, and he wanted his brother, so he rolled down from bed, pushing the soft duvets aside and padding to the door, gently pushing it open. He brightened up on seeing Lee, but then the knight was moving towards him, red spots drying dark over the white of his uniform and gun in hand, and Ephraim took a step back, eyes widening. “What--”

Gunfire rattled across the hall, and it sounded too much like fireworks and the faces of the servants were twisted like he’d never seen them before and they were keeping Lee away from him, they weren’t supposed to do that either, mother had always said they should never stay apart because they were more than just brothers they were twins and Lee looked so scared, he shouldn’t ever look like that--

“I DON’T WANT TO SEE FATHER” Lee was yelling and Ephraim was clenching tiny fists and glaring up at the knight for daring to upset his brother like that, and because he never wanted to see Lee like that, ever, herather stupidlycharged the man. Seven year-old versus battle-trained adult--the only vague advantage he had was that the man was obviously trying not to hurt him and that he had his hands full, literally, of flailing, frantic Lee. “Let him go let him go let him go!” and Ephraim’s voice was getting hoarse, while outside the fireworks kept exploding and painting the world crimson and green and blue.

Stand down, the knight was telling the servants, and it seemed to be starting to stick; they were slowing down in their assault and looked like they were actually thinking about what they were doing and looking down at themselves like they were unsure what they’d been doing. The injured were pulling back and stepping over the bodies of those who’d been gunned down, and it was giving the knights some breathing room again; enough for one of them to realize there was something suspicious about the whole thing and remembered--”The kid’s doing it!”

The man holding Leander took a second to register, but then he didn’t waste his time, knocking Lee out with a blow to the head and completely ignoring the kid kicking at his shins. That was enough to make the still-fighting servants back down completely, and the knights pulled back, grimacing and glaring at Ephraim, who, stubborn as ever, was still flailing around. It didn’t take much to force him to settle, crying and trying to reach for Lee’s hand even as he was being carried away and away, incapable of doing anything.

That was the last he saw of his brother for nearly two years.

In the glow of the city lights he shook his head. He wasn’t like this anymore, and his brother wasn't much of one. Home... was gone. Let go, he'd been taught, and he'd learned that well. Really, those weren't regrets he was feeling right now.

A dull noise behind him made him turn, brow furrowing. Was Mr. Roommate finally there? He closed the suitcase and rose to his feet, walking out of his room to investigate and y’know, say hi, but there was no one there. Well, someone was shy. He blinked at the little ball of ruffled feathers that fluttered up to him, laughed at it and strode out, uniform-free and shirt untucked for the sheer hell of it. He could talk with the other guy later. Though really, if he had that owl for a pet, he mustn’t be much to worry about.

Under the evening sun he squinted at the crowd, satisfied that most presentations had been done over with, and crept closer. Time to get to know his new teammates.

Now, where were the ladies? Maybe if he could locate that humongous, awesome sword again...

Jagged Lake, 2.00pm

Kumo looked down, and almost took a step back into the person beside her. She blinked, and coughed slightly, shaking her shock out of her shoulders. The speaker was not only a hedgehog, but he was turquoise. He looked at her expectantly, and politeness made her speak through her surprise. “Nothing, I don’t think. I haven’t been paying attention, so anything you’ve missed, I’ve missed also.” She tried a smile, and glanced at the stage. The jittery boy who had been speaking zipped off, and Kumo raised her eyebrows. That boy could run fast, faster than Pez she would wager. She looked back at the hedgehog, and by the look on his face, he had noticed too.
“Fair enough.”
“Um. I’m Kumo.”
“Zeke.”
The hedgehog smiled, and Kumo grinned back. She noticed his eyes go up to the handle poking up from her shoulder, and she quietly shuffled around, trying to tell herself she wasn’t showing off. Regardless, when he could see what it was, she got the reaction she was looking for.
“Hey, nice sword! Looks kind of heavy, though.”
Kumo grinned. “Thanks. And it is, but you get used to it.” She looked around, and laughed a little. “I would show you it better, but I don’t think this is the kind of place to draw your weapon.”
Zeke grinned. “I wouldn’t know. My weapons are these.” And in demonstration, he ran a hand over the sharp quills running up his back.
“Oh, are they sharp?”
“You seem nice, so I’ll tell you yes rather than let you learn from experience.”
Kumo laughed at that, quickly stifling it behind her hand as people turned to look at her. Once she calmed down, she dropped her hand, and grinned at Zeke. “I think I’ll like you, hedgehog.”
Zeke flashed a grin and gave her the thumbs up.

Kumo smiled a little before turning back to the stage. She wasn’t going to forget this guy in a hurry, she was sure. She’d seen a lot of things, back on the farm, but not a turquoise hedgehog. Kumo reached behind her and settled her hand around the handle of her sword, as she had many times before, remembering the fights played out on the plains around midgar. First it had been sparring with her dad, using logs and later carefully carved and weighted wooden dummies. Kumo remembered the wood would rub her hands to blisters, and the handles went shiny with use, and soon she had been biting at the bit to get her hands on cold hard steel. Her father refused for a long time, until eventually she took one down from the wall herself. It had been the one that was now strapped to her back, she had unwittingly chosen the family’s honour off the wall on a whim. She was twelve at the time. Now she carried it with pride. Later, she had been fighting monsters that wandered the farm’s outskirts, and sometimes broke in to eat the greens her father had planted for their birds. Tifa hadn’t liked it, but Cloud had allowed it, standing to watch her fights and stepping in when it looked like she was struggling. By the time she was fifteen, she was doing her own rounds around the farm. Kumo closed her eyes, imagining the grass swishing around her calves, the distant ‘wark’ of the chocobos, the sun on her face, and smiled. Even better was riding with her various chocobo, and most recently, training pez to not only carry her but carry the weight of her sword or other supplies. There was nothing quite like eating up the miles on the back of a chocobo. An itch to stride over to the stables that had been a mild annoyance until now grew. She missed her bird.

Another name was called out while she was remembering home, and she sighed and looked up at the stage. She’d missed who it was, but she recognised one of the twins she had spotted earlier. It was the one in the slightly less fancy, and at first he looked confident. Kumo’s eyebrows rose as he declared his princedom, and she glanced over at the other twin. I guess this means he’s a prince too. He doesn’t seem to be too pleased to see his brother. In fact, the twin on the ground looked shocked, and Kumo rolled her eyes. Either he was shocked at the big lie his brother told about being a prince, or he wasn’t expecting to see his royal brother here too. Maybe both, although, being royalty would explain their stupid clothing. The rich and famous back home were no better. Kumo ran the fingers of one hand over the palm of the other, feeling the calluses from farm work, controlling chocobos at top speed and her sword. Her hands were almost one big hard lump of skin by now. She stared at the prince’s face, and then at his hands, wondering if they showed any sign of work.

He did have a nice smile, she decided, and glancing around the crowd, some of the other girls seemed to think so too. She rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly in disapproval. A nice smile usually hid some kind of sly cat of a person, she found. Her father smiled rarely, and her mother smiled with her eyes. People that smiled with their mouth and didn’t let it touch their eyes usually wanted something, like that slimy man that tried to underpay for her father’s finest racer.

Kumo watched as he finished his speech, and clapped vaguely along with the rest. She guessed she had a while to wait before she would be called up, and decided that she couldn’t take it any longer. She was in the ‘S’s, and she probably had a good ten minutes before it looked like she needed to be back. A quick drop in to make sure Pez was looked after wouldn’t matter, would it? An owl caught her eye, released by someone on the crowd. Maybe she could even bring him back, let him stretch his legs... if someone could have an owl with them, why couldn’t she have hers? She paused, undecided, then shook her head. It was unlikely she would be allowed to take the much larger bird out of the stables, but that didn’t stop her going to see him.

Besides, what if they weren’t treating him well?
“Zeke, I’m going to go check on my chocobo. I’ll be back in a minute, it won’t take long.”
Zeke looked confused. “What? Count Chocula?”
“Um, no. A chocobo. You don’t know them?”
“Never heard of ‘em. Can I come see?”
Kumo smiled and nodded, pleased to be able to show off her prized bird. “I’ve got to teach you sometime, I guess. Chocobos are only the finest mounts, of which mine is the finest around.”
“A mount, eh?” It was here that Zeke’s interest seemed to spike. “Is it fast?”
“Won all the races I put it in.” Kumo beamed with pride. “She reaches speeds up to 187 mph.”
Zeke whistled in approval, and Kumo grinned even further.

Kumo waved at Caroline, who didn’t seem to notice, and was instead staring at the stage. Kumo shrugged, wondering what her roommate found so fascinating, and slipped out of the meeting with the hedgehog. The walk to the stables was a short one, and when Kumo slipped inside, a feeling of warmth and home brought a smile to her lips. The stables were warm and clean, she was pleased to see, and what pleased her even more was the welcoming ‘wark’ from the nearest stall. She strode over to the massive bird and grinned, reaching out to touch the golden bird’s beak. Pez nibbled at her fingers happily, stomping his feet and demanding to be let out. Kumo petted her partner for a moment, smoothing a stray feather on his head, before remembering Zeke.
“Oh, um. Zeke, this is Pez.”
“It looks like a really big flicky.”
Kumo frowned a little. “I don’t know what they are, but this is a chocobo. A prizewinning chocobo, in fact.”
Zeke nodded. “Okay. But it still looks like a really big flicky.”
Kumo grinned. “Remind me to show you what this ‘really big flicky’ can do one day.”

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Alex | Coruscant Hall | 9 Oct, 8:00 PM

“You know you don’t have to wait on me,” the boy called from the bathroom. Alex sat alone on a small bench in a dark corner, just tapping her feet on the marble.

“I know,” she chimed, “but our talk was interrupted.” She grinned and closed her eyes, trying to remember the smell of the daisies. Or had they been roses? The tiny girl stretched out her arms and breathed in through her nose, trying to reanimate the sensation of feeling at one with the flowers. In her spirit, she felt certain. The daisies had blanketed her and kept her company in the dying twilight. Their memory made Alex warm.

“Well, I’m almost finished up in here,” came his voice, and the pouring water ceased to echo within the large room. A few more moments passed and the blond stranger walked out of the bathroom with a black towel around his very pale waist. “I’m surprised you waited.”

“Why is that?” she asked, standing to meet his meadow eyes. “It wouldn’t be very kind for me to walk away so suddenly.”

“That’s very sw-...” His voice trailed off as he turned to the sound of flapping wings.

“What was that?” Alex lightly touched his arm and backed further into the shadowy corner.

His head turned to her, a calm smile on his lips. “It’s my owl, Daedalus. He must have gotten free, somehow. Nothing to fear.”

“Heavy philosophy, that fearlessness.”

“You seem to be handling it well.”

The two trekked into the larger rooms, the stranger leading the way and Alex just a half-step behind. Whenever the bird’s wings fluttered, Alex would cling to his black towel until he smiled her into her bubble once more. For moments, everything rested on the crest of Alex’s sharp breaths.

“What’s your name,” she whispered, still close enough to smell the conditioner on his bangs.

“Leander,” he replied, just as softly.

“Good. I didn’t want to die with a stranger.”

“You won’t die,” he assured her. “I promise. Nothing’s going to harm you.”

Alex breathed out easily and finally let go of the onyx cloth around Leander’s waist, taking her own distance back to look for the bird. Slowly, she turned her head up to the high ceilings and shrieked--loud and quick like a banshee--as the fat Daedalus swooped down from his lofty haven and into her dishevelled brown hair.

The girl tossed madly to and fro with the bird as strands of hair and mahogany feathers flew out around the duelists.

Lee ran from his corner of the room and pulled the bird into an eerily still ease in his hand, leaving Alex, wide-eyed and manic, to fall to the marble floor. “This is Daedalus.”

“Coo,” cooed the bird.

“Pleased,” she deadpanned; she looked up to Leander, who extended a hand to help her up. She half-took his hand, seeming to hover to her feet before arranging her clothes and hair into their normal haphazard charm. She peered up from herself and into his eyes, heavy and full with their lush summertime green. “I’m...I’m Alex.”

Leander smiled once more and ventured idly to his bedside, placing his bird in its cage. “I’m overjoyed to meet you, Alex.” His hands, now free of the bird, tightened the towel around his waist and he mustered a polite cough. “Mind if I change?”

“Don’t go changing just to suit my tastes, Mr. Leander,” Alex laughed. “You’re such a gentleman.”

“I meant my clothes,” the boy murmured, letting his eyes drift to the dried clothes laid out perfectly on his bed.

“Oh!” Alex gathered herself together and nodded, skipping lightly from his bedroom. Quickly, she poked her head back in with a slight cough. Leander looked up and met her eyes, waiting in the stillness. “I’m, er, going to go to the banquet hall for dinner.” She kept her eyes strayed, conscious as Eve clothed in leaves. “Maybe I’ll see you there?”

Leander pondered for a moment and slowly shook his head. “I think I’ll stay here, if it’s all the same.” He gave her another smooth, moonlit smile. “But we’ll meet again, I’m certain.”

“Yes,” she hummed half-conscious. “Certainly.”

Anon Dining Hall | 8:29 PM

“Welcome, Ms. Nolvai,” the attendant at the door flashed Alex a kind smile, his glowing yellow eyes creeping her out slightly. She slid into the cafeteria--which really seemed too classy to be called a cafeteria--and found a seat near the back left, away from the stage up front and away from most of the students with parents. Distance. Safety in distance.

The room, Alex noticed, was very...flowery. The walls were painted in chalky tans and browns with flowers stemming from abstract places. Alex’s favorite stemmed from behind the president’s head as he spoke at the podium, making him look like a Who from Kara’s favorite movie. She giggled to herself and hummed quietly to herself, folding up and down on her cloth napkin in front of her. When she had a swan--or at least it could be called a swan, maybe by a kindergartner--she placed her hands in her lap and smiled at her creation. “I’ll name you Belle because you are beautiful and spotless.”

She carefully placed Belle to the side and began folding more swans, though none competed with Belle. She smiled when she had a full family of four--a loyal husband for Belle, a daughter swan, and a son swan, all beautiful in their own unique way.

“Are you the lake?” Alex’s finger slipped off of her father swan as the familiar sound of animate nightfall filled her ears.

Startled, she turned and peered up at her friend from before, grinning slyly and leaning against the wall behind her. “What do you mean, ‘am I the lake’? I’m Alex, silly.”

“Well, you’re surrounded by swans, and you’re not a swan.” He grinned and pulled out a chair beside her, seating himself very comfortably. “So that must make you a lake.”

“Well that’s just silly,” she giggled and looked back to her family of swans. She held out the daughter swan carefully and smiled up to her blond friend. “Do you think she’s beautiful?”

“I think she’s shadowed by her company of choice.”

Alex lifted a fragile smile to him and shook her head very slowly. “I think that beauty is just the ability to shine in the midst of all of the whatevers.”

“All that glitters is not gold,” he shrugged.

Alex giggled and nodded. “I guess you’re right. Anything can glitter if it has glitter on it...”

“Glitter’s not always the best idea, or the most effective. Trust me,” he winked at her, loping his arm over the back of her chair and leaning closer, fingers brushing over shoulder, “I’ve tried.”

Alex sat her swan daughter in her lap and looked back up to him, her right eyebrow raising slightly. “You haven’t really struck me as the arts and crafts type.” Her eyes meandered across the room to the flowery president standing in front of the starving congregation. “Do you think this is a prison?” she asked, her empty eyes staring off beyond the flowers and swans, almost into the soul of the moment. “Maybe not a dark prison with bars and chains, but as if we’ll be held captive; our minds and bodies and souls all alike...all in bondage.”

Gone was his smile, and so was the summertime in his eyes, replaced by chipped, cracked jade. On the back of her chair his fist clenched. “What would this be, if not a prison? It lies, of course--you’ve seen the fences, haven’t you, the fine-wrought curls they thread the bars with as though to convince us it is for our own good.” He smiled, and looked as though he’d tasted something bitter. “We all have our leashes; this is just another clipped to our collars.”

She saw things in blue in that moment, beneath the gurgling tide heaved up by the boy’s words and beyond the faces and the flowers, she felt as though she began to float. And as Alex lifted from her weight, her inner self--the piece of her exempted from the white noise of reality--she peered into his identity. “You’re not Leander,” she murmured, dazed.

He froze, eyes going wide before he caught himself. “You know Leander?”

Alex’s head dawdled to the side, her pupils dilating as she peered at the manic-faced boy in front of her. “Apparently, I do.” She closed her eyes and placed a hand on her forehead. “I need air.”

“Want to go out? This sort of dinner leaves little in the way of oxygen, I find.”

Without another moment, Alex rose to her feet with her new not-a-Leander, staying under his arm as they stepped from the table.

“Would you like to take your swans?”

“They are free to do as they please,” she nudged her friend away from the table and glided beside him as they drowned in solitude and fresh air.

Ephraim vi Britannia | Academy Border | 9 Oct, 8:45 PM

“I met him by the Lake, with the daisies and the dandelions.” The girl’s arms hugged her ribs more tightly as a tiny breeze rolled over her shoulders, and he looked at her sideways, vaguely creeped out and not exactly sure why, as well as rather curious. Angry, also, though not at her.

Leander was here. They hadn’t seen one another for several months now, which he’d been just fine with, and it seemed like now they’d be seeing each other every day. The only question was why--why on earth that idiot was here. To gloat? Ephraim wouldn’t have put it past him, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out not even he would inflict a year of this... Academy shtick on himself just to lord it over him. That left what... punishment? Had that snobbish prick finally done something dumb and gotten what he’d deserved? It would make sense... as did the fact that they would both be sent at the same place. Father had always had a most twisted sense of humour.

Fuck, Leander was here. What to do, how to deal with the goddamn pompous jerk, how to not snap and strangle him with witnesses present pretty much 24/7 and no reliable way to dispose of the corpse...

This year was going to be worse than he’d expected, the calculating, not-panicking part of his brain informed him, and it promptly made the rest shut up, stop hyperventilating and remember there was an interesting young woman along and perhaps conversing would be more productive, not to mention more dignified.

“How did you know I wasn’t him?” They’d tricked people who’d known them for years before; that a complete stranger would have picked up on the difference was surprising. (And maybe if he knew he could fix it so he could pin the blame on Leander when he fucked something up, as was bound to happen eventually.)

“It’s the mystery of revelation,” she said, her mahogany hair guarding her cheeks from him. “I don’t quite understand it, but my doc-...friends used to say that it was just coincidence that I knew things.” She feigned a solemn smile and turned her eyes on him. “So either I’m as crazy as people say I am and this was coincidence,” she peered up at the stars. “Or I’m more unique than the Earth among her sisters.”

He thought of fireworks and gunshots and his brother crying out, a mirror seen through a film of running water; of plans that should have been perfect crumbling like sandcastles under the waves, and managed a smile, inasmuch as the splintered mess somehow imbued in that curl of his lips could be called a smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve believed in coincidences.”

The girl breathed out a silent laugh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve believed in reality.”

He could get behind that. “It must make life interesting.” And she certainly seemed the interesting type; that blank stare she’d had earlier had been rather unsettling, but one, she didn’t look like she was going to try to kill him anytime soon and two, she didn’t look half-bad, which was all he really asked for. “Reality does grow a bit heavy at times, I’ve found.” A shrug, like he didn’t mind it so much. She could probably read through it--he’d never been the most opaque of people, but it was the gesture that mattered.

Speaking of gestures, it probably would be good manners to introduce himself. “I’m Ephraim, by the way.”

The girl came to a slow stop, her eyes fixated, still, on the stars. “Ephraim,” she half-sang in a teetering alto. “That is a beautiful name, I think.” Her supple lips curved upward very slightly and she brought her head down to gaze at him, feigning relaxation and apathy. “Alexis Anastasia Nolvai.” She peered back up at the stars, seeming to single one out of the bunch. “But my friend calls me Alex.”

He inclined his head. “Would it be presumptuous of me to call you that, then--Alex?” He offered the patented Ephraim smile, the one he reserved for the times when he was putting actual effort into being charming. He’d never been one for formalities, but he’d learned rather painfully that prudence was recommended when it came to proper forms of address. And really, it’d be a shame to annoy her so soon; he rather liked her, so far. She shivered, suddenly, and ran a hand through her hair, casting a brown feather to hang breathless into the air between them.

The girl’s eyes stared, wide and confused as the feather drifted down, as did Ephraim’s. It was tiny, fluffy and brown and stuck somewhere it had no business being. Huh. That rang a bell. “Did that come from a particularly cheerful and annoying owl, by any chance?”

“Fat. You forgot fat.”

“Apologies. Cheerful, annoying and fat.” He smirked.

“Then yes,” she grinned and centered in on his irises, the color of daisy stems. “This feather came from a cheerful, annoying and fat owl that likes to scare poor girls to death.”

He quirked a brow, amusement bubbling up at the mental images that popped up in his mind. “It must have been rather more excited to see you than it did me, then. An annoyance, but it wasn’t quite up to ‘scary’ at the time. What kind of person would be masochistic enough to keep that little pest around, I have no idea.” He would soon enough, he supposed, but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. Except to mock. Mocking was good, when in doubt.

Though maybe now was a good time to get intel on Mr. Roommate, so he had an idea what to expect. “I suppose you had the immense pleasure of meeting its proprietor?”

“I did,” she hummed, her voice trailing off as she gazed back into the stars. Once again she smiled, slowly, stepping closer to Ephraim and pointing at the bejeweled onyx sky. “Do you see that star between the three stars that are just north of the eight stars in a circle?”

Well, so much for info. Ah well, anything for the ladies. He looked up, rather nonplussed by her sudden non-sequitur; nonetheless followed the steady line of her tiny arm, her thin finger to the black-and-blue of the sky above them, to the dot of light she sought. “I...suppose?”

“Her name is Naomi; she is my wishing star.” She looked down, breathing cool air into her nose and drawing in his faint lavender-and-throneroom cologne. “And I’d love for you to call me Alex.”

Wishing stars, huh. All he saw was trembling firefly-lights and the darkness encroaching, a conquering army around an ever-wavering resistance. Wishes were what you did when you had nothing left, and he’d made a point never to be like that. But if there’d ever been a time... sometimes ignoring the remnants of laughter still ringing in his ears was too difficult a task, and maybe wishes would be good company to the blood on his hands.

Alex continued to gaze at the sky for moments beyond silence before lowering her vision to the lawn where the feather lay. With a very faint light in her eyes, the feather lifted from its home and danced on the light breeze into her fingers before Ephraim’s lips. With a giggle, she brushed it across his nose. “I think we all need something to wish on. Wishing stars and gods and goddesses, they’re only as silly as our loneliness makes them.”

Such a strange place this cage was, and the people in it--how unlike anyone else did Alex seem to him, in that moment. He smiled, and his eyes were on her hands, not on the feather, suspended though it was in a grip that surely was too light for physics to approve of and that yet still held. “Perhaps you’re right.” One didn’t feel loneliness unless it was sought for, he’d found. Sometimes it snuck in and hid at the bottom of your drink or in the shadows of leaves falling through a window, but then it was almost a friend, and Ephraim had a longstanding dispute with the skies, and Britannia sang for none but her king. Still, he raised his own hand, brushed hers, and though he didn’t bring it to his lips it was a close thing. “Would it be silly, then, if you were to be mi--...”

“Obstacle at twelve’o’clock slow down, slow--!”

“Whooooa get outtatheway ohcrapfffffffff---” CRASH

Ephraim usually prided himself on his reflexes. They were visibly no match for small-tank-sized poultry or bipedal spiky... people, as his current trying-to-keep-dignity-after-being-almost-trampled-over state was testament to. “Alex, are you alright?”

“I’m not dead,” she said, and the stars were still in her eyes. Good enough, he supposed.

Now he could whirl about and glare at the interlopers properly. “What the hell? Your parents never teach you not to interrupt a conversation? ”

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