Chapter 2-Initiation
The dark elf looked at the group, a smile on her face. “My, but we have an excellent group of young minds this year. I can’t wait to see what you do.” She gestured toward the blocky building behind her, and the group began its migration into the admissions building.
Michael stood for a moment, looking at the complex and the elven woman before he felt a small tap on his thigh. He looked down, seeing a face with large, violet eyes and shoulder-length pink hair looking back at him, her face framed by large, pointed ears with multiple hoops and crosses dangling from them. She was wearing a tight black t-shirt that stretched around her modest chest, emblazoned with “Super/Natural” in red letters on the front, and torn black jeans.
Whether those were a choice or she just couldn’t get new pants was anyone’s guess.
She pointed at the group. “You don’t want to be left behind.” Her face didn’t betray much emotion, and he couldn’t blame her.
He looked up, seeing the group heading in, the woman waiting patiently. “Right. Thanks.” He smiled, offering his hand, “Michael. Mike to friends.”
She looked at him, at his hand, then smirked. “Heather.” She answers, taking the hand. Her fingers ended in long, black claws, and on her wrists were an array of bracelets full of beads and charms.
He gestured towards the building. “Shall we, Heather?”
With a smile, they walked toward the building, much to the evident pleasure of the admissions advisor.
They entered the building through a glass door.
The room they entered was long and rectangular, with large windows that let the morning sun in. To the left was a large lounge area, a coffee shop, and a library. To the right was a food court. In the center, a large, C shaped desk, behind which sat a few receptionists, staring at small standing mirrors with wooden frames, text and images flashing across the glass. The receptionists pointed the new students toward a wide-open double door behind them, a large sign reading “intake” next to it.
Behind the door was a multipurpose room. Curved seats lined the side closest to the door, each one slightly higher in a stair-step pattern, each with its own desk. The focus of the room was a raised platform carved with a permanent magic circle. At the edge of the circle, inside its own, was an altar, and on that altar is a crystal ball.
On the stage stood a tall high-elf woman in long white robes with gold edging. Her eyes were of a deep blue, her hair long and platinum, her ears sharply pointed and lobeless. She had a staff in her left hand, capped with a large gem and slowly shifting colors. In her left, she held a scroll.
A softly murmuring crowd of students gathered in front of the stage, looking at the circle, the altar, and the woman. The woman stepped forward, her staff thunking on the ground, and smiled down at them.
“Welcome, believers and future believers. I am Lady Cecilia, a priestess of the Light. Here, on your first day of adulthood, your future will be decided according to the Light’s needs, and together, we will make the future a better place. I am here to oversee.” She held up the scroll. It unrolled, levitating gently in front of her “When I call your name, touch the Altar of Fate and be placed.”
The tension mounted as she spoke. This was not because they were wowed they would not be accepted; no, it was about where they were going. Each student would be trained based on their strengths and weaknesses.
He looked down at his goblin friend. She had hope in her large, violet eyes.
“What are you hoping for?”
She looked at him. “That’s personal.”
He shrugged.
One by one, their names were called. They stepped up to the stage and were guided to the altar, laying their hands on the crystal ball. It lit up, and something flashed in front of their eyes. Each walked away looking satisfied, disappointed, indifferent.
Finally, it was Heather’s turn. She approached the altar, slightly taller than she was. Her green hand reached up, tentatively closed, then touched it. It flared to life. Her eyes danced across an invisible screen, and she grinned, baring sharp teeth. She practically skipped down from the stage.
“I take it you got it?”
She nodded.
“Good job.” He smiles, reaching out and laying a hand on her head.
She leans into it for just a moment before slapping his hand away, looking at him. “Don’t ever do that again.”
He raises his hands in surrender, still smiling.
“Michael Hunter.”
He went up to the altar, placing his hand on the crystal. It flashes.
Intuition: S
Logic: D
Spirit: A
Magic: Null
Strength: C
Endurance: B
Reading those scores, he knew. This was the end. He could feel the tears start to form in his eyes. He walked off the stage, trying not to look as heartbroken as he felt. He walked past the crowd, ignoring them.
Walking out of the building, he went to an out-of-the-way bench and quietly wept.
***
The ride home was long and quiet. He got on the transport and rode that wooden ship through the sky, watching the forest pass through the porthole by his seat. It didn’t seem nearly as enchanting this time. Heather was absent; she was taking a different route back to her clan.
When they arrived, Michael disembarked from the ramp, trudged his way along the stone path to the front door, and entered through the front. He walked past the living room, where his father, David, and his stepsister, Angela, looked up from their conversation. The enchanted mirror behind them displayed a dwarf crouched over a murdered pixie about to make a very inappropriate pun.
Father looked up from beneath shaggy brown hair, peering at him through brown eyes. He was a large man; broad of shoulder, arm, and build. Everything about him spoke of a past muscularity that had long since softened, leaving him with a round belly and arms the size of tree trunks. He was wearing slacks and a polo shirt.
His older sister was the opposite; taller than him, skinny, with long, curly, strawberry blond hair, she had green eyes and was covered head to toe in freckles. She was wearing a pale green dress that came down to her ankles. She smiled upon seeing him, her eyes sparkling, but that quickly faded after seeing the look of melancholy on his face.
“How’d it go?” His dad asked, the concern apparent in his voice.
Michael didn’t answer, walking up the stairs and to his room, collapsin on the bed.
After a few minutes, there was a quiet knock on the door.
“Can I come in?”
The voice was Angela’s. When he didn’t answer, she let herself in.
When she entered, she found him face down on the bed. He didn’t acknowledge her, though he surely knew she was there. She laid down next to him, putting an arm across his back. She didn’t say anything. Nor did Michael, feeling the warmth and comfort of his older sister. After a time, he put an arm across her, pulling her close and enjoying her company.
“What happened?” she asked, looking at him.
“Failed.”
She frowned, stroking his hair like she had been doing for years. He turned, looking at her, their faces almost touching. His eyes were red-rimmed and moist, but he wasn’t crying.
“What can I do?” She asked, finally.
He shrugged. “There’s nothing you can do. I can’t either. Only thing we can do is keep trying.”
She nodded. They lay there for some time, just enjoying the moment.
Author’s notes:
How about that stepsister, eh?
Around this point, I made a few changes. Like, yes, the ship being wood.
In the following chapters, things will change because I started outlining more. I have a better grasp of the story, and I hope you will stick around for it.
Next episode: We will be getting to know Angela and talking more to le dryad, and you will finally get to know her name and how she ties into the story, yay!
A writer and a dad trying to make a living. You make that dream come true.