Young Writers Society

Coryn Williams had always seen himself as normal, even if he was one of the most skilled students at the Imperial Academy and the son of one of the most influential Senators in the world. Was that his fault? No, but it seemed like everyone expected more out of him for it. And he had met their expectations and sometimes exceeded them-- even his teachers admitted that he could surpass them in some areas of magical ability. So it excited him when he received a note from the Headmistress that read:

Dear Mr. Williams,

I request that you come to my private quarters at once to discuss matters that are of the utmost importance to me. As one of my most successful students, I wish to speak with you regarding certain things that I believe may interest you.

Sincerely,

Sinestra Hopkins-Jones, Headmistress

Head of the Noble and Moste Ancient Houses of Hopkins and Jones

Immediately, he began sprinting towards the nearest staircase, his feet slamming against the granite floor with every stride. The Headmistress's private office was on the second floor, to the northern side of the Imperial Academy. He passed the dining room, the savory scent of tender rotisseries and steaming teas drifting out into the hallway, students laughing and talking as they ate their dinner. A few students that lingered in the hall saw little more than a giant jumping towads the staircases, a mop of ruddy red hair atop his head.

Two soldiers stood to either side of theHeadmistress's door; she often had protection provided by the government, though in truth she did not need it. Her skill and prowess was renowned across the multiverse. Coryn nodded to both of them. They were garbed in midnight blue uniforms with guns holstered to either side; the one to the right of the door had a wand holstered as well. The teenager that stood before them was gray-eyed and long-limbed with a diamond-shaped face. He wore a silver sweater vest with midnight blue trim and black pants. From his pocket, he withdrew a folded piece of paper.

"I'm here to see the Headmistress," he said to them. "I'm Williams, Coryn Williams. She sent for me."

The guard with the wand took the note and read it carefully. Then he withdrew his wand and muttered something to himself. "It's legit," he said. "Let him in." The other guard took a key and unlocked the door to the room, ushering Coryn inside before closing the door and locking it once more.

Coryn looked around the office he had stepped into. The room was a flawless circle with a hallway to his right leading deeper in. A perfect display case wrapped its way around the room, books and devices of intrigue filling up its shelves-- swords, wands, treasures, potion bottles. A red rug lay on the floor, a cedar wood desk and its chair centered at the heart of the room. Two more chairs sat in front of it; Coryn remembered that he had been in here once before, when he had first met the Headmistress. On that day, he, she, and his mother all sat in this very room some 10 years ago. He had not been back in here since.

"She's back here," a voice that was unfamiliar to him called somewhat snappishly. It was a woman's voice with some kind of odd, foreign accent. There was power in it, and anger, too. "Hurry up, boy!"

"Now, now," the raspy voice of the Headmistress replied as Coryn turned down the hall, coming to the door at the end. "You promised to play nice." As Coryn came inside, she waved her wrinkled thumb, and the door shut. "Good afternoon, Mr. Williams. I apologize for interrupting your studies."

Sinestra Hopkins-Jones was an ancient-looking woman that was wrinklier than a mastiff. Her skin was pale and her hair, which was normally wrapped in a tight bun, was pale white and tangled up. Coryn knew she was older than she had claimed-- officially, she was 202 years old, but that seemed a bit young for her at the very least. She was sitting up in her bed, several pillows stuffed behind her back. Sinestra was dressed in her proper attire, but nonetheless, it seemed like she hadn't left bed at all for the day.

"Yes, she's old, we're aware of that!" a voice snapped from behind Coryn. He turned and saw a woman sitting in an arm chair. She looked to be fairly young, maybe in her twenties or thirties, with long silver-blonde hair that reached down to her ankles. The woman wore black leggings, a ruffled skirt that was longer in the back than it was in the front, a white blouse, and a leather corset. Coryn could tell that he, a giant of 6'5", was taller than her-- as his best guess, she was a little less than six feet tall.

"Headmistress," the student said, not taking his eyes off the woman, "I thought Professor Dionysus was supposed to teach us how to make our minds impenetrable?"

He could feel the ancient woman smiling, but before she replied, she started hacking. When at last she could speak again, she mumbled, "Water, Deserae."

The strangely-dressed woman stood and rushed to the Headmistress's side, a glass of water in hand. "Drink, Sinestra... you've got to get through this."

After the old woman took several gulps, she weakly shoved the glass away from her thin lips, frowning, skin sagging beneath the sleeves of her dress. "Deserae... sit down, please." Reluctantly, the woman complied. The Headmistress turned her gaze to Coryn. "Mr. Williams... I'm... glad you've come."

"I'm glad to be here," he replied, green-gray eyes shining brightly. "It's always an honor to have a meeting with one so well-versed in the magical arts."

Sinestra smiled, her sea-colored eyes sparkling with wisdom and flattery. "Thank you, Mr. Williams... This--" she pointed one wrinkled finger at the odd woman in the chair-- "is Deserae Wintermere, a colleague, friend, and parent of mine. She has come to, eh... assist me today." The old woman too a deep breath and frowned. "Mr. Williams, the truth is that the rumors are true: I am far older than two mere centuries. My power has waxed and waned over time."

"Headmistress, what are you saying?" Coryn asked, concern flooding his voice.

The old woman offered him a comforting smile. "I realize that you have not known me outside of your divination and history classes since you were but a lad of seven years, but you understand what Master Lilo taught you, what the Professor taught you, what I taught you. At some point, all life must end: that was the lesson learned from the Long Winter. My time nears its end, Mr. Williams. But I have not yet finished teaching y--"

"He's not ready," Deserae snapped suddenly. "You can't just stop fighting. You have to live. Have to!"

Sinestra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Deserae, my fighting days are over. I can hardly walk or lift my own cane, let alone take up a sword and fight. I haven't held one since '76. I've been spending these final years teaching what I know to the next generation. Now, it's time for the best of the next generation to take up my own tasks."

"You're dying?" Coryn blurted out suddenly. "You can't die! We need you, Headmistress! The Dragonhearts need you, my parents need you! The world, the multiverses need you if half of what you've taught us is true. You've saved the world a million times over."

"Never alone," she replied raspily, tone a bit rough, though her eyes sparkled with amusement, like a kitten pawing at a butterfly. "As I was saying, however... There is more for you to learn, Mr. Williams, but I cannot teach you. Lilo and Dionysus have neither the skill nor the ability to train you for what I have in mind. Deserae has neither the patience nor ability to survive as you scribble notes in the margins of books."

"...I take offense at that," the Wintermere woman mumbled from her seat. Sinestra shot her a death glare before continuing.

"There's a task I want you to take up, Mr. Williams. But I have my doubts... The blood of kings runs in your veins. Some are good. Many were not. The most recently of these was a ruthless tyrant killed by his own wife who was in turn murdered. I don't want you to be like them, Coryn. All I can offer you are these departing words." She allowed him to hear her voice in his mind, saying, I will be on the beach at sunset. Hide behind a rock and watch closely. If Deserae sees you, do not run; accept your fate. Remember these words: Seek the orange blossom and the hibiscus within, these words shall help you for you have trials to win; if you pass them when the clock strikes three, free at dusk on the solstice will you be.

Her presence left his mind, and he gasped for breath. Sinestra showed neither concern nor confusion on her face; rather, she was sad-- but why? What exactly did all that mean? Hibiscus? Orange blossom? It made no sense! But she had told him what to do-- what would he learn from the beach, though? Would Deserae attempt to train him in-- whatever he was supposed to do, despite what the Headmistress believed?

"You are dismissed, Mr. Williams," the old woman rasped before he could ask her anything. "Rest easy."

----------

It wasn't uncommon for Coryn to stay out late, even on school nights. While Liam would rather die than break a federal law, let alone one of their family rules, Coryn was more responsible and trustworthy than his older brother. He was trusted to be able to stay out after dark, whereas in all likelihood Liam would use his magic to prank someone. This evening, though, Coryn needed no magic-- he needed a rock, and he figured he'd need to hear the old woman speak. Why was she out here, anyways? The Headmistress seemed to provide more questions than answers.

Coryn waited in silence, hidden behind his rock as he waited for the old woman to appear with the Wintermere woman. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her, but he thought that she was a bit odd. Then again, Sinestra had said that she was close with the other woman-- maybe they were related somehow? It couldn't be blood-- Sinestra was far too old to have a living, breathing mother, let alone one that looked so--

"I do not fear death, Deserae," Sinestra rasped. "I have no reason to. These sands... Do you see them?"

"I do," the younger woman answered glumly. "What about them?"

"Each grain," the Headmistress replied, "represents one person, one life, past or present. That one there--" Coryn assumed she pointed a finger at the ground-- "represents Avanya. And those there are you and me. I can see Michael, Natalia, Honorine, all of my parents, Americans, Belecthorians, everyone. All of them are on this shore and beneath the waters of the ocean."

"Your point?" Wintermere asked rather hawkishly.

"My point," Sinestra murmurred quietly. Coryn stuck his head up just a little bit so that he could see her. She released Deserae's hand and start to walk deeper into the water, unaided by anything other than her cane. "I suppose that my point might be interpreted by anyone that heard me make it. If you are asking instead what I meant by it, well... That's a lesson you must learn on your own."

The Headmistress turned around and looked at Coryn-- or maybe his rock, but he felt she knew he was there-- before looking at Deserae one final time. Silently, she removed her hand from the cane and it drifted back to shore.

"Now," she rasped, "I am free."

Sinestra Hopkins-Jones disintegrated into silver dust, the ocean scattering her ashes as the waves moved back and forth. Wintermere cried out in pain like am injured beast, wailing like a banshee.

"No!" she hissed. "No! You will not take my daughter from me!"

Daughter? thought Coryn silently. He started to lower his head again, but then he saw the Wintermere woman look directly at him. Not in his direction, but at him. And then she charged.

"You! You aren't supposed to be here!" she snarled. Her hands began to glow, and a hole opened in the sand beneath his feet. Coryn was falling, falling, falling, and then he heard and saw no more.