Young Writers Society

Ariphi was mad. This wasn't unusual. The problem is, she hated being mad, since it did little but cloud her judgement. Ariphi hates a lot of things. This time, she was mad at whatever had made its way into her back trouser pocket.
She wore men's clothes most of the time since they were easier to put on than all those complicated corsets and petticoats and whatnot, which were especially difficult to handle when the person you live with goes to work at dawn and you can't properly stand for more than three seconds at a time without collapsing or looking like a fool. She was used to trousers, anyways.
After stewing in the anger for a moment, she leaned onto one arm of her wheelchair for an awkward moment as she retrieved the thing from her pocket. A letter? She very rarely got mail, and this letter didn't seem ordinary in the slightest. She opened it.

Well, this was convenient. Ariphi had been considering going to school, and a magic academy would be much more interesting than a traditional one for sure. One headed by Apollo Cartington, no less? This was a difficult offer to refuse. And... oh, supplies. That was quite the list. Hmph. Crackling sparks danced around her fingertips. If they really wanted Ariphi there, those would be handled for her. She'd be sure of it.

"Ego vadam ad Academy, magi ad me fiet."

Apollo Cartington was, in Sir Alfred's expert opinion, a fool.
A clever fool, certainly, but that only made him more dangerous. To organize schools in other countries was one thing; to create one in England of all places, well, that was just madness. England was already full of colonizing drunkards ready to swarm the rest of the world. Teaching the small percentage of those drunkards how to wield such a powerful tool as magic was as good an idea as sticking your head into the mouth of a lion.

That being said, Sir Alfred had been bored out of his mind since the War of 1812, and so when the invitation to teach at this academic monstrosity came, he was only too happy to accept. Besides, colonization and imperialism was none of his concern. Empires rose and fell, and even after six hundred years of watching the British government grow and change, Sir Alfred was certain he would be around when the karma caught up.

A few students had already arrived at the school, but Sir Alfred had yet to meet any. He had explored the place immediately upon his arrival, made a few jabs at Cartington and his little posse, then absconded to his room for the remainder of the time before the first semester began. The heartbeats of the humans present here had enticed him right away, but as per the headmaster's request he fed only from the streets. It would be bad for business if the vampiric professor of sermomancy began offing students.
Sir Alfred chuckled to himself, spinning the little glass pyramid suspended between two metal poles that sat on his desk. It would be fun to cause a stir, certainly, but there was plenty of time to find more entertaining ways of ruffling Cartington's royal feathers.

***

"Just try an' squeeze into 'em, Nige!"
"Over my dead bloody body! What happened to tradition?" Nigel Stoutbridge scrambled away from her mother and the tightly-laced boots being thrusted at her. "I'll go barefoot or not at all, that's final!"
It had not been Nigel's idea to attend the illustrious Apollo Cartington's school. Nigel had been perfectly happy right here, twisting Serafina's fine jeweled bracelets and melting her silly tiara to her hair. But her mother had insisted, and so today Nigel was being prepared.
The supplies had cost a ridiculous amount of money; Nigel's sisters had to chip in and even then her mother needed to ask for a few paychecks in advance. Nigel was still bitter over that. She'd known that this stuffy school and its headmaster would drain the whole family.
"You're so lucky, Nigel," her younger sister Euphemia, gushed. "I wish I could do magic so I could meet Mister Cartington!"
"I don't think that's his title," May said primly from where she sat sewing. "Anyway, I think it'll be good for you, Nigel. You'll learn some discipline."
"I have discipline," Nigel shot back. Both her sisters exchanged a dubious look.
"Look, you don't want people put off by your feet, love." Nigel's mother pushed the boots at her again. "Just wear 'em for a few weeks!"
Nigel glowered at her mother, then snatched the boots. She'd shed them the second she got to the school, along with these ridiculous stockings. It wasn't a halfling's way, covering up like this! Besides, the skirts would hide her feet just fine.
"Alright," she muttered, tugging them on. "Only for a couple weeks."
The pinching of the leather was worth it for the relieved smile on her mother's face. "Right, are we ready?" She whipped out the note and went to stand beside her pile of supplies.
"Keep a smile on your face, dearest." Her mother hugged her tightly. "And don't take smack from anyone but be polite about it!"
"Tell Mister Cartington I love him," Euphemia said eagerly. Nigel rolled her eyes.
"Fine, fine." She opened the note. "Alright. I'll see you on the holidays. May, make sure Serafina doesn't get cocky." May nodded, and Nigel cleared her throat.
"Ego vadam ad Academy, magi ad me fiet."

Jenevieve
Jen blamed the letter. If it wasn't for that rectangular piece of evilness, she could have just enjoyed the lovely London afternoon in peace. It was even the perfect weather for roller skating! But unfortunately, it was not to be... because now she had to make decisions. Jen hated making decisions.
With a drawn-out sigh, Jen turned towards home, dreading the discussion with her family. As she walked, she read and re-read the message. Headmaster Apollo Cartington, eh? she mused. Well... I would like to see whether his schools are as good as they say... But why send this to me? I'm not remarkable in any way... am I? Jen tried to ignore the little voice of hope in her head, wondering whether this letter could mean that she... might actually amount to something. Oh stop it, me. For all you know, this letter could just be a prank. You should take it back to your family and... do whatever they tell you to. Jen frowned. The thing is, they'll expect me to ignore the letter and learn sewing or something equally boring instead. So should I just not tell my family?
Slumping onto a nearby bench, Jen read the letter for the hundredth time. Ughhh decisions, decisions. She took a deep breath. Okay, so the facts are that magic school is infinitely better than learning how to be a 'proper' lady. But I don't want to just leave my parents without a goodbye. So... oh! I guess I can write them a note? With a sigh of relief and a decisive nod, Jen got up and turned towards home. Pausing as an idea struck her, Jen gave a devilish smile and subtly conjured up a pair of roller skates. It's still the afternoon, and I did say the weather is perfect for roller skating...


Mariel
The decision was easy for Mar. Of course he wanted to learn more about magic! The only problem was what others would think. The Tefineri generally disapproved of magic, as they believed too much reliance on it made people lazy. But Mar was inclined to disagree-- he saw so much potential for magic to make lives better instead! The invitation to attend The Royal Academy of the Magical Arts was like seeing a phoenix-- it was rare and incredible. And Mar thought he'd better take the opportunity before it disappeared. After packing a few supplies, he snapped his fingers and declared "Ego vadam ad Academy, magi ad me fiet."

The bustling streets of London drowned out the steady clicking of Vlaktas heeled boots as she weaved through the many people rushing about. Her bright blue eyes gleamed in the warm sun, the golden edges of them barely detectable.

Skilfully weaving around a family enjoying a walk, she headed towards a row of neat tall houses. She quickened her step as she hastened up the wooden stairs, eager to sit down with a cup of tea and pour over the day's notes.

Midgarudians could be inherently stupid, but some of them were also annoyingly smart. A mix of both had somehow made its way to courtrooms.

Brushing a strand of raven black hair from her face she reached a tanned hand into the pocket of her Brown dress, fingers reaching for the brass key she always put there. The tips of her fingers brushed somthing.

Vlakta Paused, hand hovering in her pocket.
Whatever she touched had certainly not been a cold metal key.
Had she put somthing else in her pocket?
She reached her hand in again, wrapping her fingers around what felt like paper.
Paper? Had she put her court notes in her pocket, not her handbag? No, her notes were rolled up, this, this felt like an envelope.

Fingers gripping the mysterious item she brought it out of her pocket bringing it to her face.
It was an envelope, She passed it to her other hand and reached for the key again. Mindlessly unlocking and opening the door whist she examined the mystery item that has somehow appeared in her pocket.

Vlakta swiftly closed the door and swept into her small sitting room, sitting down in the nearest chair. Holding the envelope in both hands, she truned it over. Part of her hoped it was from Frigga, possibly summoning her back home. Or she had sent a description of a new shape-shifting trick. Somthing she'd never done but Vlakta had hoped she would.

She swiped the sword-shaped letter opener from the table beside her and cleanly sliced the envelope open, tugging out the letter.

Scanning the letter over she read the first sentence, brows furrowing together. Accepted at the Royal Academy Of the magical arts? Had Figga done this? Or had someone mewling midgaurdian found out she had magic and was trying to do her over? A quick swipe of the real version of the letter opener sitting in her room would solve the former. She read it again, Spotting a name she had read over in her haste, Apollo Cartington. She recognized that the name. She sat back, Pulling millions of pins out from the organized mess on her head.
Figga had mentioned that name. Somthing to do with him being a renowned name among the magic users of Midgard.

Vlakta's eyes returned to the letter now laid on her lap as both hands worked to free her hair, scanning the list of supplies and equipment.
Her eyes returned to the sentence " To reply, snap your fingers and say "Ego vadam ad Academy, magi ad me fiet."

Here in fount of her was a letter beconing her to learn magic. She could learn proper full shapeshifting. More than shapeshifting. Magic of all kinds

But would Odin and Frigga let her go? She signed, did she even had the money to get the supplies? She stood, Not caring at the rain of pins that tumbled to the wood floor.

She held the letter in between her teeth as she used both hands to pry a piece of the brick fireplace out. Tugging the heavy coin purse from its hiding place and replacing the brick.

Another quicked few steps had her brewing tea, the letter sitting on the counter along with the purse. She had money, She had a want to learn magic. She could go. Maybe this was Figgas doing. If she learned to wield magic properly she could better fight the Laws trying to kill it.

A few minutes later she was sitting in her room at the back of the house. A white china cup sprinkled with roses sat on a similarly decored at secure, the letter lay beside it with the coin purse ontop. Tugging at the corset ribbons, she stood barefoot in the pile of brown dresses that had piled on the floor. Finally, she was able to wiggle out of the corset, arms feeling like noodles from working behind her back, Not matter how many times she laced and unlaced it. She always found her arms making her feel she wasn't one of the most elite warriors on Asgard. She closed her eyes, Breathing in and letting herself fall back into her. she breathed out and opened her eyes, a weight sprouting from her shoulder blades, The altered and lowered back of the chiffon allowing her to shift without ripping the sheer piece of underclothes She smiled brushing a hand down the soft raven-like wings she now had. Looking back at the mirror she bent her knees, now too tall to properly see herself in.

A smile. She was herself again. Good

after once more glance at the letter and coin purse and she slid onto the narrow mattress. It would be decided tomorrow. Wrapping her wings around her she stared at the letter. Imagining what she could do if she simply said those words and snapped her fingers, Till her golden-rimmed eyes closed.

Tibby Curtis leaned against the wall of the alleyway, gasping for breath. He had quite the close call with some constables back there. He shuffles into a dark corner, just in case, than he reaches into his oversized, dirty coat and grabs his bread. As he's grabbing it his fingers brush against something, a sheet of paper maybe? He pulls it out, it appears to be some kind of letter. Maybe it was from one of the constables? Or an angry shopkeeper? He was tempted to throw it on fire or watch it burn, it would give him a few minutes of warmth and light. Whatever, he could worry about these things later, for now, food.

After he had eaten his bread Tibby reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the letter. He started to read.

Dear Sir or Madam

Well that was a good sign. At least it didn't start with pig or something of the sort. Than again the police would probably also start a letter like that. He read the rest of the letter.

He scrunched his face up. Ugh. Really? A magic school? And he thought the shopkeepers were lame and stupid. Than again, he had never been to school before, unless you count getting beaten, than thrown in jail for "trespassing on school grounds" going to school. Based off of what Creed had said, school could be fun. Tibby had always wanted to attend a real school, but still, a magic school would definitely have it's problems. Nobody should be taught magic. Bet one of those high and might aristocrats made this school. Of course, that would make sense. They didn't know what it was like, living on the streets, fending for yourself, watching magic used on innocent people. Seeing magic be used in those terrible, terrible ways.

But, if he went to school, he could get away from the streets, from the cold, from the darkness. School had to be safer than the streets right? That was it, he had made his decision.

He snapped his fingers "Ego vadam ad Academy, magi ad me fiet" he muttered.



Meanwhile elsewhere:

"Morning Amy" Sienna grinned. Amy looks at Sienna "morning" she smiled. "I made you breakfast" Sienna smiled. Amy raised her eyebrows "what's the special occasion" she raised her eyebrows. "It's a surprise" Sienna whispers "come on get up!" Amy nods "OK, OK I'm getting up!" Amy slid out of bed and got dressed.

Amy walked slowly down the stairs, Sienna covered her eyes. "Are we there yet" Amy complained. "Not yet, be patient" Sienna frowned. Amy was led into the family room and only than did Sienna remove her hands from Amy's eyes. Her mother and father were sitting in the couches. They looked so happy and proud. "What's this all about" Amy asked. Sienna ran over to the table and grabbed two letters, she shoved one into Amy's hand. Amy looked at her " a sheet of paper? We have plenty of those" she said skeptically.
Sienna smacked her on the back of the head lightly "open it" she giggles.
Amy laughed, opening the letter.

Once she finished reading she gasped. "I-"
Sienna showed Amy the second letter "we're both going" she exclaimed excitedly.
Amy looked at her parents in shock "is this real?" They both nodded. "Come on Amy let's do the thing!" Sienna pointed to the last line of the letter, Amy laughed "OK, sure thing." They both snapped their fingers and shouted "Ego vadam ad Academy, magi ad me fiet!"

Sosie woke up in a start. She heard something. Something bad.

"SOSIE! Come downstairs now!"

Sosie shook her head. Aunt Matilda certainly had no way with words. They both knew what was downstairs for her. But there was no way Sosie was going to fall for that again. Not with her hearing abilities. But where could she go? She sighed, and hurriedly got dressed.

Now to- wait. What is that in my pocket?

She reached in and pulled out the envelope and quickly scanned over its contents. No time to think about what was waiting for her there. A house like this, with her cruel Aunt...anything was better than that. Footsteps. About 6 steps away

1,2.

She had to hurry.

"Ego vadam ad Academy,"

3,4,5

She blurted out the last few words. "magi ad me-!"

A mist went in front of her eyes, and she looked at what happened. A man was there, holding her down, squeezing her throat. Spit fell on her face and he shook her yelling,

"Be quiet!"

She ignored him.

"fiet." she choked out.

Just gonna help this move along a bit, I'm sorry if you haven't post T-T

One by one, the newly arriving students appeared in a brightly lit room, each sitting in their own chairs about three feet apart. An old woman in dark blue robes stood at the middle of the room, dark hair wrapped into a tight bun.

"My name," she said sternly, "is Alexia Torignoton. I am the Undersecretary to Headmaster Cartington. Please be patient; the Deputy Headmaster will see each of you shortly. Please get to know one another and refrain from being too loud. The use of magic by pupils or potential pupils is not allowed in this room. Thank you."

The woman took one step forward and disappeared in a flash of blue light.

TIBBY:

Tibby looked around the room, realizing just how underdressed he was. He had dirty, oversized clothes. Probably should have stolen some fancier clothes he thought. he looked to his left where someone had just appeared. It appeared to be a girl with blonde buns. He noticed the bandaid on the cheek, the markings on her neck. She had recently been choked. "Are you OK" Tibby asked with concern.

AMY AND SIENNA:

The two girls both appeared in the room at the same time. They were in seats right next to each other. "Wow" Sienna gasped "this is so exciting" she squealed. Amy chuckled "yeah" she nodded. She looked around, there was another student next to her. "Hey" she waved, a smile plastered on her face.

There was a letter in her pocket, and Hazal didn't remember putting it there. However, she couldn't take it out to read it, because her hand was already busy doing something.

"Pleasure to have you here," she said, accepting payments from a patient, letting their hands touch very briefly, just enough to work a memory from the patient's mind. He'd come in, recovering from a bout of smallpox. According to him, it had been one of the worst moments of his life, and Hazal figured it would be doing him a favor to be rid of it. Plus, she didn't have any smallpox memories yet, and figured it would be nice to have it in her collection.

She felt the memory form in her hand, a slightly warm, shiny globe of what looked like glass but felt like fabric filled with dark smoke.

"Have a lovely day," she said, sliding it into her pocket and withdrawing the letter instead. The patient looked confused. It was a look she was all too used to getting.

"You were just leaving," she supplied. He faltered for a moment, before nodding and leaving the druggist's.

She slit the top of the envelope open and withdrew the cream colored stationery. She briefly read over the contents.

A school for magic, hm? Hazal smirked. It wasn't like she needed much more education. She'd done very well for herself on her own. But it would be nice to stop maintaining a glamour everyday for her wings.

Her smirk turned into the more malevolent shape of a frown, angry at herself for considering it. But there was still a niggling doubt in the back of her mind, a careful what if that urged her to find out more.

Hazal sighed, glancing back at the druggist's office at the back of the store. What did she have to lose? She already knew the answer was nothing.

Taking a deep breath in, she snapped. It wasn't anyone would be here to miss or remember her, anyways. She'd make sure of that.

"Ego vadam ad Academy, magi ad me fiet."

Amoku glared at the paper. Then, he glared some more. He continued glaring, wondering if his glare alone would be enough to set it on fire.

Maybe. Maybe not.

Some things in life, you just won't ever know the answer.

Amoku didn't want to go to some school. He'd been to numerous schools over the centuries and had no love for magic, schools, or horribly annoying letters.

Also, he had no love for magic schools that sent horribly annoying letters.

Maybe he could jump into the school and yell at them. That would be a great idea! He smiled.

"Ego vadam ad Academy, magi ad me fiet."

Sosie looked at who asked her that question. Her eyes rested on a dirty boy, a street boy most likely. But what stood out to her was his face, and she thought it to be the most beautiful thing at the moment, because of his kindness. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. After a few moments, she faced the boy and offered him a small smile.

“I’ll be fine, thank you for asking. What’s your name? My name is...”

She stopped for the slightest moment, wondering if she should disclose her name to these people. But after the briefest pause, she said,

“Sosie.”

Alice looked around the room she had suddenly been transported to and took it all in.

The bag - the one that had been beside her in the corner of her kitchen - had appeared right next to the legs of the chair she was currently sitting in. Maybe she should have expected that the words and the snapping would magically transport her somewhere else. It seemed like the kind of thing that would transport people; she even vaguely remembered reading about a similar transportation spell, once.

She got to her feet.

It was a good thing she hadn't been using any kind of spell earlier - it would have probably been bad if she suddenly had to stop an experiment for this. She glanced around the room again, trying to get a good look at her future classmates. They seemed to be different ages and from different backgrounds. Her gaze caught on one that didn't look human. She was sitting in a wheelchair and wearing a pair of trousers, too.

After a moment of hesitation, Alice picked up her bag and walked over to her.

"Hi," she said.

Jen blinked. One moment she'd been in her family's modest home, and the next she was here... in a roomful of magic students. Noticing the others starting up conversations, Jen put on her best smile and turned towards two girls who were sitting side by side. "Hi, are you both siblings? You look so similar!"

Some were probably here already, and more were on their way! A rather tall satyr excitedly clopped around their classroom, making final arrangements and running through lesson plans in their head. Nashi couldn't contain their excitement very well, so they used the extra energy to make sure everything was as close to perfect as possible. Books sorted themselves and a star chart floated through the air and pressed itself against a wall as Professor Sterope fiddled with their jewlery and supervised every movement. Professor Stereope sounded so impressive! Professor, professor, professor. It was so nice that they repeated it a couple times out loud as a large stack of papers tucked itself into a drawer

The students likely wouldn't see their classroom today, but they wanted to be prepared. Who knows, someone might stop by, and you only get one chance at a first impression. Nashi was looking forward to teaching here, for certain.



Ariphi immediately stood out amung the other students-to-be. She was a tiefling, first and foremost, which almost always drew some unwanted attention. It definitely wasn't an easy trait to hide, what with her horns, skin, tail, and ever-ferocious eyes. She was also the only one to bring their own chair, which seemed to be calculated for, since there was no other chair in the space she occupied.

Two things in particular about her chair were of note: the large wheels on the sides, and the red military coat hung on the back of it. Of her few posesssions, that was the most prized, and she displayed it with pride. So what if she was sent home just after finishing training? The fact she had become a soldier at all was impressive.

On the subject of clothing, though she was clearly female in body, she dressed as a man, similarly to the girl in front of her. It was unclear what combination of Ariphi's notable differences had drawn her over, but they were surely the reason.

She met the greeting with a sharp response. "What do you want."

Alice faltered.

She knew it was naive of her to hope that a stranger - who probably knew more about magic than she did - would want to talk to her, but she hadn't expected a reply like that.

"I thought it would be nice to talk to one of my classmates," she said, giving a shy and hesitant smile.