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"Shade in the Mirror" (Lorenta) ---------------------------------- North Tower, Flenceburg Sorcery Academy - November 12 - Afternoon - ---------------------------------- '... I can't tell you how happy I am to leave Gerabellum. I swear to you, I think the council put me up to this job just to spite me for the expenses I've incurred. Not that I am innocent of their charges, but really - they've no evidence as of yet, unless you choose to tell them...' Lorenta smiled, hard-pressed to keep silent the laughter that bubbled up as she read Claira's letter. Her class was hard at work with their weekly essays, each bent over their respective desks with their parchments rolled out before them. The only sound in the room aside from the crackle of the fire in the iron stove was the steady skritch of a dozen quills on paper, interrupted by the occasional cough. Everything was finished - laboratory spaces were cleaned, ingredients on their shelves... just the way it should be. After a sweeping glance at the class - and a glare to Alisha, who seemed intent on taking her answers from the young man next to her - she turned her attention back to the letter. It had arrived just before class, and as there was nothing else to see to in the classroom while her students worked, she saw no harm in taking a moment to read it. Correspondence from Claira was a rare pleasure, these days. 'After a year in this country, with its fauning nobility and destitute peasantry, I'm not sure how well I'll fare in Artolia. Things seem to be going badly for them this year - Abella's death seems to have dealt them more than a glancing blow. I do not know what else has happened there, but if they have lost anyone else, I can't say I have much faith in their chances against Villnore. Luckily for them, Gerabellum is a more attractive target... I hear they've found gold somewhere to the north. Greed speaks more loudly than grudges, it seems.' A quick glance at the thick yellow candle at the corner of her desk persuaded Lorenta to put the letter down for a moment; the wax had melted almost to the dull brass marker, and that meant that class was nearly over. It was a welcome thought... Winter days were always hard, full of chill drafts and the dreaded trip from the tower - with no internal exits to the living areas of the academy - left to bear after the day's sessions were over. She didn't like it any more than her students did, but laboratory work was always done outside of the main body of the school, simply as a safety measure. She wasn't about the reverse that rule when it served such an important purpose, no matter how uncomfortable it was. It was only another month until the Winter Solstice and the end of the term - it wouldn't be that much longer before they could all wave good-bye to the unpleasantness of the season here. And she would wager money they wouldn't complain about the drafts once the weather started to warm up. "Please finish your sentences and place your quills on your desks," she called out finally, after another look at the candle. Her voice seemed unnaturally sharp in the relative silence of the chamber, and several students started at the sound. "Once the ink is dry, please bring your assignments to the front of the class and place them in the basket." The students did as instructed, some waving their parchments back and forth, some blowing on the ink to make it dry, others placing their quills neatly in cases and capping their ink bottles, determined to do something a bit more practical while they waited. Lorenta's eyes fell upon a girl in the very last row, as far back into the corner as she could have reached, and the rest of the class was reduced to a dozen masses of color, blacks and greys or roses and whites, as she focused on Alisha. The girl was a mess; her dress was on straight, but she seemed to have forgotten to brush her hair altogether, and her stockings seemed to be missing. Her shoes were mismatched, her robe looked as if it had been thrown on in quite a hurry. Disorganization wasn't a fault, here... Lorenta could remember rushing to classes after sleeping a bit too late, and hardly looking better than that. Other students had suffered the same misfortune as well - it happened to everyone at least a few times in their school careers. Unfortunately for this girl, her behavior was a bit too consistent to be overlooked. Other teachers had complained more than once of the girl missing classes altogether, her excessive tardiness, being caught out on the grounds after she was supposed to be in the dormatories with the rest of her classmates... "Alisha," Lorenta called, as students began filing to her desk to deposit their reports before they rushed out the door. The girl looked up from her bag, report still spread upon her desk. "Please remain after class. I will accept your report after the others have left." She turned her attention back to the other students after she received a confirming nod, but she didn't miss the flash of dread in the girl's eyes. And she was right to be worried. From the sound of her performance in other classes - let alone Lorenta's own - she should have been suspended or otherwise punished weeks ago. However... Her eyes strayed again to Claira's letter, but rather than the rosy stationary that contained her words to Lorenta, she glanced at the shorter, but no less important note that she had written to the 'Headmistress' instead. As if she were two different people... 'I regret to inform you that Tristan and Eliza Spiret have fallen into a rather unfortunate accident, and are no longer with us. Their belongings have been gathered from the family dwelling in the lower district of Gerabellum, and have been sent to the care of Alisha Spiret in accordance with their wishes. Her sponsor wishes to continue his funding of her education, and asks that she remain in Flenceburg until further notice.' Alisha was, according to her letter of introduction, the daughter of a low class family employed by a lord in Gerabellum's capitol. That lord was uncharacteristically generous, offering to fund her education and any other needs until she was ready to return to him. There was no doubt that he intended to use her for his own purposes; Flenceburg-trained sorcerors were known the world over as the best, and he could only stand to gain from allowing someone in his service to learn here. It was quite possible they were slaves... The last student - a bright boy by the name of Louis - placed his essay into her basket and hurried out with a sympathetic look for Alisha, and the heavy door boomed closed, louder than it should have been in the fearful silence that followed the others' departure. Lorenta sighed. Gerabellum was a country at war, and Alisha had only been at school since the beginning of term. It was expected that she would be worried and distracted by news that reached the school about her homeland. But it was also expected that she live up to the academy's standards, and that... she was not doing very well with. "It seems you've had an unpleasant day, Alisha," Lorenta began softly, taking the small square of parchment and folding it between her fingers. There was nothing to do for it; any other teacher could have passed this on, but as Headmistress, it was her job to take care of it. All of it. "I hope you have better luck with your next class, today." Alisha chewed on her lower lip, lowering her eyes to the essay in her hands before standing and approaching the desk. It was placed into the basket with a shaking hand, and though she remained, stance stiff and face downcast, she did not say a word in response. Was she afraid? She knew very well that cheating was not tolerated under any circumstances. But usually, students of that sort had explanation and excuses enough to give a politician a run for their money - this one was silent. "I do not want to add to your troubles, young lady, but I'm afraid I cannot let your behavior in my class slide. You know the rules, and there is nothing that will convince me to excuse cheating." The words sounded cold even to Lorenta, but she spoke them anyway, hardly bothering to curb the icy chill of her tone. "Have you anything to say for yourself?" The dark head shook a silent 'no', and the girl wrung her hands nervously, face hidden by her bangs and dark falls of hair. Nothing else seemed forthcoming. Lorenta reached into the basket and, careful to grasp only Alisha's paper, pulled it out of the pile and placed it upon the desk in front of her. "I will not accept this essay. As a reward for your ill-advised decision, you will be scheduled for ten hours of detention next week, to be served during your meals. I cannot have you missing your other classes, and it would be a shame to interfere with your study schedule. However..." The girl seemed to shrink a little, as if she was trying to disappear and not having very much success. She clutched Claira's message more tightly, hiding her hand in the folds of her skirt as she continued. "Because of your circumstances, you will be allowed to rewrite this assignment at a later date. I will choose a different topic, so I advise you to study /all/ of your reading assignments this time." "Yes, Headmistress." The reply, heavy with exhaustion and on the verge of tears was so unexpected that Lorenta halted her flow of words for a moment in surprise. "May... May I have the assignments again, please? I don't remember..." The girl didn't look up, or really do much at all. She might as well have been a stone statue for all the expression she was displaying - she hadn't moved at all since turning her paper in. No fidgeting, no looking away, no protesting... For a child so young, she was showing remarkable fortitude. And it was such a waste - Alisha had so much potential, maturity beyond her thirteen years, everything she needed to really shine in her class. Why wasn't she using it? "Your assignment was to read chapters five and six," Lorenta said, taking a moment to check her list for the class and make sure she was correct. "I expect you to have chapter seven read as well, when you report in after the weekend. Don't fall behind, if you can help it." Alisha nodded and, when she finally raised her head and met Lorenta's eyes, she jerked down again in a bow and snatched her essay from the table, walking away as quickly as she could without breaking into a run. She tugged the door open, and was gone into the chilly afternoon, leaving the door to drift closed behind her. Parchment crackled in her hand, and Lorenta looked down. It was Claira's note about Alisha's parents, crinkled at the center where her fingers had clenched around it. What good would that have done for the girl? She was already pathetic enough as it was, barely making it by in her classes, slipping up as she had today with the essay. Despite the supposed generosity of her benefactor, he seemed to make an effort to spend as little as possible on his little servant girl - she had the bare necessities, nothing else. Secondhand materials, battered clothing. It wouldn't be a stretch to imagine that the girl's parents were all she really had in the world... and now they were gone. What luck. Not for the first time, she found herself grateful that she had severed connections with her family. What she did not know, she could not miss. But sooner or later, the girl would have to be told. It wasn't likely she knew yet; Claira would have had to send the package containing the Spirets' belongings by land, and if it had taken the pigeon bearing the letter more than a week to get here, Alisha's inheritance would not arrive for another month, assuming storms or other misfortunes did not befall the messanger. It would be a long while before she would have to face the truth of what happened. But... Lorenta sank back down into her chair, smoothing the note out again on her desk. She would have to tell the girl some time, and it would be unkind to wait until she received Claira's package. No, cruel was a better word for it. But how would she do it - and after pushing such a burdensome punishment on the poor child's shoulders? She hadn't been able to make herself say anything about it at all. One blow was bad enough, but two? Sometimes she couldn't stand this job. So many responsibilities, so many bundles of feelings in her hands, waiting to be bruised and broken. She'd done it before, and she never wanted to see that expression in a child's eyes again. Ever. There had to be another way. And then... 'I've taken your advice, and sent a letter ahead to Artolia to assure my appointment in the palace. If you're truly up to this, dear friend, you'll have your wish, and probably more than you bargained for along with it. Prepare yourself, and prepare the school - when our plan begins to unfold, I imagine you'll have more work on your hands than I would ever want. And in the mean time, good luck. I will send another letter once I've finished my dealings in Artolia. - Claira' Lorenta closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips into her temples to stave off the headache she knew was coming. So much to think about, so many things to accomplish... She'd be lucky to survive until the end of term without a disaster. 'Good luck' indeed... ------------------------------------ "Shade in the Mirror" (Lorenta) By Amber Michelle ------------------------------------ |